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The Practice of Forgiveness

Joanie Madsen

“Forgiveness isn’t something you do for someone else. It’s something you do for yourself. It’s saying, ‘You’re not important enough to have a stranglehold on me.’ It’s saying, ‘You don’t get to trap me in the past. I am worthy of a future.” ~ Jodie Picoult


Sometimes I feel as if forgiveness and I are in a flow state and at other times it resembles my early years learning how to drive a stick shift. Grinding, halting, jerking my body all around and sensing those gears are going to be stripped and ground into nothingness.


In my early career as an elementary school teacher when something was said and or done that required an apology I was all over it. Expecting an “I’m sorry,” to be uttered often before the enormity and sorting of the feelings had adequately been felt and explored. I soon learned that our class didn’t need me to insert myself and they knew I was nearby if they could not find a resolution. Almost always they could and if not, what I found they benefitted from was to hear themselves into their solutions which was an added set of ears that I could offer. I soon stepped all the way back and understood I was now the student learning from these masterful teachers who innately knew what they needed to do. It was up to me now to be taking note of what was happening right in front of me as I became the student to these masterful teachers on the practice of forgiveness.


Some acts are simply unforgivable and it’s okay to allow them to remain just that. Where I believe the forgiveness needs to begin and take root is within myself. Am I able to not remain mired in self-blame? Can I pause instead and become the observer to the narrative without becoming a harsh judger of it? I might be hearing utterances that sound like, “Well, if you were a good person, if you were spiritually evolved, if you were loving and kind,” and the inner monologue continues. Maybe I simply am not there in this now moment and can I truly be accepting of it? This becomes the question, resembling a balance beam that I may find myself teetering on.


“In order for forgiveness to happen, something has to die. If you make the choice to forgive, you have to face the pain. You simply have to hurt.”


Perhaps when forgiveness feels elusive, an impossibility, like a remote island I do not choose to travel to, it may be because it has become a protective armor shielding me from sitting with what is, the sorrow, anguish, pain and the overwhelming sadness.


What I do know for sure about the practice of forgiveness is that it is as necessary as breathing oxygen in order to live. As a parent who has lost a child, self forgiveness is something that I have had to learn how to be with. I’m not sure it’s ever a goal, an arrival, yet it has become a conscious path I find myself on. There were so many things that I missed with my son, the denial of an insidious disease, a disease I did not understand and one that I found I had absolutely no control over. As mothers we are given the memo at the births of our children that we are the ones who are responsible to keep them safe, protected and alive on the planet. When this does not happen, feeling like an empathic failure and wondering down to the seconds before what could have been done to change the course of events is a hamster which can spin us like an uncontrollable top. What I am discovering is that I was never that powerful and tragic things happen to amazing and wonderful children and have since the beginning of time.


Also, forgiving our child for their choices may find its way into our forgiveness practice as well. It is multi faceted and contains numerous layers. This is not a one size fits all practice and what may work for me might be something that makes you want to run for the hills. That’s to be expected, because we each must find our way.


I’ve had to wrestle, shake, rattle and roll with forgiveness and meet it face to face on my mat. I am reminded of what Glennon Doyle shares about remembering that my job is to remain on my mat. Even when the sense of wanting to bolt comes rushing in, just keep my backside glued to it. On the mat is where I may meet forgiveness, not in the running away. It can feel impossible, like the hardest thing to even consider, yet it has become the key to a locked door that may have been keeping me captive for far too long. Freedom awaits if I can allow this to happen and it cannot be rushed, it can only be inched closer to.







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