Forgiveness

Yesterday I came across this idea:  "forgiveness means saying thank you for giving me the experience."  I thought that was an interesting thought.  It stopped me, in fact, and I have been thinking much about it.

First, I considered the idea of forgiveness.  I have come to believe that forgiveness is acknowledging one's past and letting go of the pain by deciding to give up any grudges.  Only by taking away the power another has over me--to continue to cause me pain as I reflect on my past--can I truly move forward in peace.  If I do not forgive, then those who have caused me pain continue to have power over me.  Forgiveness means taking the power for oneself. 

I also considered for what one might ask forgiveness.  I considered the idea of divorce, for example.  Marriage usually means that some positive relationship exists in some way.  Maybe enough that is positive does not exist to sustain the relationship, hence divorce occurs.  In this situation, the idea of saying "thank you for the experience" is perhaps appropriate.  To acknowledge that one has learned from marriage and then divorce can mean a genuine sense of relief.  "I learned from this and now I can move forward."  In most divorce situations, there is pain.  To say thank you, even for the pain, which has allowed for learning that could not have come another way, seems a true way to forgive.

But then I considered Elie Wiesel.  If one survives something that is only about pain, such as the Holocaust, can one then say thank you for that?  Does one need to say thank you in order to forgive?  I suppose I cannot know, since my life has never held such pain.  Saying thank you to someone who has killed the ones you love, who has tortured you and taken away what joy you had in life--that may not be appropriate.

A couple of days ago I listened to Terry Gross's Fresh Air program.  She was interviewing Ishmael Beah, who was a child soldier in Sierra Leone's civil war, and who ultimately made it to the United States, got a college degree, and now tells his story to others.  In the interview, he did not have hatred for those who conscripted him;  he did not blame anyone for the pain he experienced.  He still has nightmares, but he now lives and works to avoid such pain in others.  His is a powerful story of suffering.  (His book, by the way, A Long Way Gone, is worth a read if you can handle reading about suffering and overcoming it).

Would Ishmael Beah say "thank you for giving me the experience?"  I do not know.  But he has been able to forgive.  Would he be where he is now without having had those experiences?  He would not.  He might have a life that is equally full, however, of joy, of learning, of happiness, perhaps even more so.  Did he need those painful experiences?  He did not.  To accept them, to learn from them, to acknowledge how they have shaped his life--all these are important, because they shaped who he is and because he cannot change the past.  But to say thank you seems too much.

I admit the phrase with which I began this entry was out of context.  I have little more than that phrase, not what was meant by it.  It did get me thinking, however.  Perhaps I misunderstood.  Perhaps I am defining "thank you" in the wrong way.  Perhaps it referred to forgiving only some things and not others. 

Forgiveness is vital to everyone.  We all feel pain.  Those of us who cannot forgive can become trapped in cycles from the past.  We need to live now, to embrace our lives as we have them, to accept what we have experienced and to carry the learning from our experiences forward.  It does not matter in the end how we come to forgiveness, or how we define it.  It matters simply that we do it.