And some peace too. Central to the motivation behind forgiveness, is bringing peace.
"Forgive others not because they deserve forgiveness but because you deserve peace."
This is such a common quote that looking it up brings multiple attributions. So perhaps it's a truism.
The theory is, that anger, bitterness and resentment, dark-brooding thoughts of revenge, eat away at us. Consuming our energy in replaying past wrongs suffered and enlivening old injuries. It's a Gollum-like obsession. Locking out any potential for happiness in cherishing our precious pain. Forgiveness ends the obsession. Constantly aggravating an injury prevents any healing. Forgiveness lets us shift focus, move on.
The most astounding experience I had of this, was sharing secrets with a few mates, as easily as we did our booze and pizza. One friend told of suffering the most grievous assault. How the effects shadowed their life for years. Until they had an epiphany, to see it as one horrific experience. One terrible - but brief - time. One they said they'd been revisiting, refreshing, renewing, ever after. I've no idea how, but in that moment, they just let it go. Right in front of us, a weight lifted. In the months following it stayed off too. It remains a stand-out encounter, watching someone "let go" of a burden. I wish I saw it more.
Forgiveness works that way, bringing peace. It's an act and skill, well worth considering. Even more so, if you can forgive yourself. To make it a one person act of offer and acceptance, with peace as the pay-off.
Forgiveness, says Wikipedia "is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offence, lets go of negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance (however justified it might be), and with an increased ability to wish the offender well".
Can you cast yourself as both victim and offender? I grew up being told I was my own worst enemy. At 50, I can admit that it's true. I condemn, harangue and belittle myself more brutally than I'd ever allow anyone else to. I set myself up to fail and blame myself for every misstep. I decry myself for all manner of outcomes and eventualities that I'd be aghast at a friend blaming themselves for.
I've been at this a while. A life-long list of offences committed against myself. Ancient errors I dust off, drag out and do myself in with. Over and over again. Maybe you do sometimes too.
Imagine the space and opportunity that letting this loathing go, would create. Just writing this I can glimpse the peace. I want some please.
So how to forgive? I find it easier to forgive, after getting an apology. Not the passive aggressive conceit I've heard high profile men proffer this year. "I apologise to those who took offence at my words." That's a "nonpology".
I've learnt, taught and given apologies. The most effective forgiveness work I've been involved in, teaches a structure to effective apology.
Name the offence, take accountability for it, name the harm and negative impact this has had on the other, and on their potential. Commit to a new behaviour and detail how this is being delivered or worked towards.
That is quite a tough apology to make. It demands reflection, accountability and creativity. It also requires a willing listener, in the person harmed, or offended against.
Fortunately, forgiving yourself, you can do all this. Create an effective apology and be prepared to listen.
And then, to forgive. Forgive yourself the things you have done (and not done) this year?
To parole yourself from the punishment due from unachieved ambitions, broken promises, slipped standards, failures and flaws.
What exactly is it to forgive?
"A conscious, deliberate decision to release feelings of resentment or vengeance toward a person or group who has harmed you, regardless of whether they actually deserve your forgiveness." is the definition from Berkeley University.
What a great Christmas gift to get, "release from feelings of resentment". Maybe, like me, you will be tempted keep hold of a thought that I don't actually deserve to get off the hook for my failings.
But hey, it's Christmas go on and forgive yourself anyway.
Timothy Giles is a resilience coach and funeral celebrant, he enthusiastically welcomes forgiveness stories at listengiles.com
