dear friends,
The well-known Buddhist psychologist Tara Brach has an interesting take on the Nachiketa story from the Upanishads. In her retelling, the young protagonist asks Yama, the god of death and final judge on the destination of souls, for three wishes: (1) the freedom of a forgiving heart, (2) purpose and drive for wholesome action, and (3) the wisdom of self knowledge. Brach’s interpretation is certainly not the only one for this parable, but it’s one that I like. And I’ve always been struck by the first wish. When I first came across Brach’s reading, though, I struggled with the idea that there could be freedom in a forgiving heart. I didn’t get it. Then I didn’t like it. And now, I want to practice it.
I’ll start at the beginning: not getting it. I grew up in a conservative Christian religious environment. There was a lot of talk of forgiveness, but the concept was centered on right and wrong. If you were wrong, you asked for it; and if you were right, you gave it. Looking at forgiveness through this lens led to all kinds of questions about who was worthy of forgiveness.
Which is where my second response comes in. My understanding of forgiveness was tied up with the idea of justice and worthiness. I bristled at the thought that those who were unworthy of forgiveness would be forgiven … even though, on some level, I understand that I am a person who is often wrong and in need of forgiveness. The prodigal son parable in the Bible gets at this point precisely: the father who welcomes his prodigal son back has the freedom of a forgiving heart; the older brother, focused on his brother’s worthiness, does not. I understand the older brother. It’s hard to let go of the idea that the person in the wrong needs to be worthy before being forgiven.
So, let’s look more closely at the idea that forgiveness is forgetting and condoning bad behavior. If you’ve ever forgiven yourself for saying or doing something that hurt someone you love, I’m pretty sure you haven’t forgotten the details. I’m also going to bet that you didn’t say to yourself, “Well, because I forgave myself for that angry outburst, I now think angry outbursts are the best!” That’s nonsensical thinking, and yet when we contemplate forgiving another person, it’s common to think exactly along these lines. A forgiving heart is a wise heart. You don’t need to forget or condone bad behavior in order to forgive, you only need to see clearly and intentionally let go of your own suffering.
The reason both the Upanishads and the Bible contain parables about forgiveness is that it really does have the capacity to free the heart. When we shift the focus from justice/worthiness to what causes us suffering, we can see forgiveness as a source of freedom. A person with a forgiving heart isn’t tied down by blame, anger, resentment or self-righteousness. Like the father of the prodigal son, you celebrate instead of seethe. We simply feel better when we’re not holding a grudge or nursing resentment.
Which is why I wanted to come up with a practice for cultivating a forgiving heart. I’ve just taken this up, and I can’t pretend that I don’t struggle. But, the effort has already proven itself worth it.
Here’s how I’m trying to cultivate a forgiving heart in a gentle way:
(1) Step one: Imagine the boat is empty. When we take agency out of the equation, it becomes very easy to see the impact of resentment and blame. Here’s the thought experiment: if you’re out on a sail boat and another person rams their boat into yours, you’ll focus on all the things that other person did wrong. You’ll have plenty of fuel for blame and resentment. But, if an unmanned boat rams into your sail boat, you’ll tend to your boat (and probably alert the coast guard about the empty boat). You have the same damaged sail boat in both the first and second scenarios, but in the second, you don’t have all that anger. I’m not suggesting that you pretend there isn’t agency, I’m just suggesting that it doesn’t do you any good to focus on it.
(2) Step two: Fix your boat and sail on. See the facts clearly so you can tend to them. If someone said something hurtful, for example, acknowledge that to yourself. The more specific you can be the better: more like “Ouch! Not acknowledging the graduation gift I sent made me feel insignificant and not included in the family.” Understand that this step is not about trying to understand what the other person did or did not intend. This is only about how you feel. Once you know exactly what hurts, you can create a plan to help yourself heal. “Hey, I get that it hurts to be ignored, but you sent that graduation gift because you’re part of the family, and you’re the kind of person who sends graduation gifts!” Sometimes, simply acknowledging what hurts and widening your focus to include other statements that are both true and relevant is enough to fix your boat.
(3) Step three: Practice, practice, practice. Most of us deal with trivialities when we’re contemplating forgiveness, which is great because that gives us plenty of opportunities to practice. What I’m discovering is that the more I practice, the fewer things rise to the level of needing my forgiveness. I’m becoming more even-keeled. (Please forgive another sailing metaphor, but it was too good to resist!) The little slights and missteps don’t irk me as much any more, and I’m becoming more skillful with letting the bigger things go. Whether the other person or people are worthy of forgiveness is beside the point.
That’s it for this week! May you all feel the freedom of a forgiving heart.
warmly,
alison
