Mark Twain’s words and imagery, as is often the case, capture the essence of this daunting word—forgiveness—and takes me to the truth of what lives in my “closet”: “Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”
Beautiful!
At the end of the day, when my shoes are removed, if heel-crushing events have occurred and opportunities to give and receive forgiveness presented themselves I’ve too often met them with the odor of indifference rather than the fragrance of forgiveness.
I put more time into enjoying a few beers and a televised Cubs baseball game (and forgive them annually for underachieving) than I do into reflecting on missed opportunities to give and receive forgiveness.
And now, while writing my brief thoughts on the elusive act of forgiving, I feel distracted, and a powerful urge to procrastinate is seeping into the tapped vein from which my thoughts have been flowing. I’m squirming at my desk, uncomfortable and restless. I feel myself wanting to run – to go clean the toilet, scrub the shower, or vacuum the filthy garage floor, mouse droppings included – rather than delve further into this subject.
What is nagging at me, you may wonder. Well, I haven’t told you the entire truth. I’ve made it sound as though I’m miserly when it comes to forgiveness. But there are times that I do forgive, and forgive easily. I can be and often think of myself as being very tolerant; so, which is it, withholding indifference or generous forgiveness?
And herein lies the tough part—it’s both.
I embrace the virtuous part of my soul, the forgiving part, but I am impatient and unforgiving with my resistant-to-forgive self—a bit of a ruse to disguise the truth that lies behind my conscious and unconscious withholding.
Freud doesn’t write about forgiving, or receiving forgiveness. Perhaps he didn’t view those actions as important factors in psychoanalysis. He did, however, describe a way of acting that is relevant to my giving and receiving forgiveness. He believed that when we struggle against something there is a corresponding attraction to it, even when the latter is unconscious, out of our awareness.
My resistance to offering and receiving forgiveness, and attraction to its expression embody both conscious and unconscious factors. The striving against something while being drawn to it is a complex dynamic. On the one hand I freely dispense forgiveness in certain situations, and on the other hand, in similar circumstances, I withhold it.
Freud’s assertion that struggling against and being drawn to the same thing (one or the other being out of sight and mind, but not operation) is consistent with my behavior. A more forgiving and patient approach is warranted by me—toward others as well as myself.
I believe that civil and equal rights apply across religious, ethnic, racial, and gender lines and differences. I’ve not always been a “quick study” in these areas, biases and prejudice have had their way with me, but I have learned, and do my best to put these new and evolving beliefs into practice.
However, in that process I have also withheld forgiveness from those who practice discrimination, as perhaps is true for many. How willing am I, or you for that matter, to forgive those who commit violence against others? Should we look at our inability to do so as pigheaded self-righteousness? Are we not brutal at times too? And don’t we hope that those we’ve “harmed” verbally or in other ways will forgive us? Does self-righteousness not serve to mask the residue of our own unexplored prejudice?
I seek and offer forgiveness, but frequently shy away from either expression because the act of giving or receiving arouses a feeling of vulnerability, losing control, or touches on some aspect of who I am that remains hidden from me.
Norman Cousins said, “Life is an adventure in forgiveness.”
Twain, Freud, and Cousins are correct. Life can be an adventure in forgiveness, but the fragrance of its expression requires honest reflection, and insight coupled with a willingness to acknowledge uncomfortable truths.
I work hard, and pray with discipline that my strivings toward and resistance against something will be genuine, and if they mask opposing thoughts and feelings that those too will be exposed. And when I squirm, then find myself in route to the pantry for cleaning fluids and utensils, it will be because it’s time to clean rather than avoid discomfort.
by 
I have read this three times. It is a complex and deep piece of writing.
I could have used more concrete illustrations of confronting or not confronting the act of forgiveness. I was struck by the amazing acts of forgiveness shown by the families of the Emmanuel Nine when they addressed Dylan Roof. Stunning. To get to know your struggle in an applicable way, can you cite examples in your life of forgiving?
Mary, You have raised two good points; opening up to my experience, and more importantly addressing how deeply wounded and aggrieved people find their way into forgiveness–Emmanuel Nine and Dylan Roof. I think of the Truth and Reconciliation Committee, and an article in The Atlantic Monthly by Ta-Nehisi Coates on the case for reparations–a troubling statement of our ongoing racism, and to me, how reparations might be a tangible move into deeper forgiveness. My struggle in life, as a white male, a reluctant disciple pales, however real it is to me, with the Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church’s experience. You have moved me, in a time of percolating ideas about writing, to a place of more heart and soul felt reflection. Thank you for persisting in getting your words to me and the website.
Roger
Mary,
I’ve read over this post on forgiveness, your reply, and my response [in addition to the previous reply] is that “more concrete illustrations of confronting or not confronting the act of forgiveness” is not only a constructive critique, but indicative of my resistance to giving and receiving forgiveness–even as I write about it. Thank you for stirring my unconscious. Roger
Your thoughts and words about forgiveness have caused me to contemplate those conflicting complexities of striving towards and resistance against something, anything , everything. We all share that simultaneous struggle of being drawn to and pushing away from. I wonder if I can truly forgive myself some of the wounds I have inflicted upon others, however unavoidable my acts may have been. Guilt lingers as I strive to release it.
The rare stories of those who are able to forgive those who have killed their loved ones are unimaginable and astounding to me. I pray I may never need to confront such in myself. Thank you for raising these questions and truths.
I googled forgiveness and a mountain of stuff came up. Many quotable quotes, all good stuff. But as I started reading them I felt that it’s easier to talk about or write about, then do. It feels good to pin a quote on the frig. Somehow I’ve taken action. It would be nice to take a self forgiveness bath first thing each morning, start fresh, free of the pain from inflicted wounds. They have a way of piling up even in a day, don’t they? Uh oh, I feel some quotes coming on: “To err is human; to forgive, divine.” And, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Now why do those make me feel guilty? Now I gotta go forgive myself for feeling guilty. I give up.
This is a tough topic for me. I’m glad you posted a few words on it if for no other reason than to put it in front of me today.
I hope you find something of value in the post, and your thoughts on a difficult and tough topic for many of us–we’re in good company.