Imperfect Parenting Blog Series CD 2 - Track 4 (Post #10)

The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew, I’m learning again
I’ve been trying to get down
To the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it’s about forgiveness

These are the lyrics from “Heart of the Matter” by Don Henley (and most recently covered by the amazing India.Arie).

These words beautifully capture my feelings about forgiveness. As a researcher, I’m certain that forgiveness is essential to living with courage, compassion, and connection. It came up across the interviews as critical to authentic living and parenting. But, the more I know about forgiveness, the less I understand.

When I taped the lecture in April (the CD that many of you are listening to), I tried to be really honest about my struggle with forgiveness. On the CD, I explain that, as a researcher, I know that forgiveness is important, but as a person on the same journey as everyone else, I’m not willing to stand in front of people and tell them that they should practice forgiveness. I talk about how arrogant it feels to tell people to do that when my own experiences of forgiveness have been limited – I haven’t survived the traumas that many people have had to survive.

I’m also very honest about how difficult forgiveness has been and continues to be for me. Why? Because practicing forgiveness means letting go of self-righteous anger, blame, and resentment. That’s hard. The combination of self-righteous anger, blame, and resentment is one of my favorites. Umm. Umm. Umm. Drink it up! Unfortunately, I think it’s toxic and eats you alive from the inside. It might go down like a milkshake, but it burns up your insides like battery acid.

A good friend who attended the lecture in April, called me the next day and said, “You might have to edit the forgiveness part of the CD. You went a little crazy.” I was so nervous that I had no idea what I had said. When I asked her, she paused then said, “Well, there was the part when you said that telling people to forgive can be arrogant. Then you said that in our culture, we have a hard time of letting go when we really want to kick someone’s ass and they actually deserve to have their ass kicked. You also said that it’s almost like forgiveness is un-American.”

Believe it or not, I didn’t care. That was the most honest, authentic way I could talk about forgiveness. I’ve spent a decade interviewing people who have survived violence and trauma that I can’t even understand. I’m not going to sing the praises of forgiveness like it’s easy OR natural OR required.

In July, I ran a small workshop with 10 women. I talked about forgiveness in the same way that I always do – I know it’s important, I’m trying to understand it, and I think it might mean something different for all of us. A woman in the group raised her hand and said, “You might be the only mental health professional I’ve heard who didn’t preach about forgiveness with certainty and, more importantly, one of the only ones who didn’t tell me that I can’t heal until I totally forgive. Thank you.”

Then, she told the group that  her son was killed on 9/11. He was very young and had recently finished college. He was killed when the first tower collapsed.

She was amazing. She taught me so much about forgiveness, hope, and resilience. She also helped confirm my suspicions - certainty about forgiveness can be a dangerous and hurtful thing.

At our core, we are more the same than we are different. Or experiences with hurt and forgiveness may vary, but we all struggle. It's important to be aware of difference, but it's dangerous to start ranking trauma (who is hurting more . . . who should have an easier time with forgiveness). When we start thinking, "Hmm . . . what's worse, an affair or losing a parent in an accident or having a parent who was distant or having a child who was hurt" - we move away from connection and toward comparison. We start hearing the shame tapes that say, "I shouldn't complain - look how much worse she has it." Or, "I'm so alone, my situation is so much harder."  No one can heal from that lonely place.

Here’s a popular definition of forgiveness that I've used in my lectures. I don’t really agree with all of it:

“Interpersonal forgiveness is a willingness to abandon one’s right to resentment, negative judgment, and indifferent behavior toward one who unjustly injured us, while fostering undeserved qualities of compassion, generosity, and even love toward him or her." (Dr. Robert D. Enright, author of “Forgiveness is a Choice”).

I’ve been sifting through my data and I’m not sure that forgiving means the same for everyone and I also question the requirements of fostering compassion, generosity, and love toward the person who hurt us.

On the other hand, I see absolutely truth and grace in the definition given by Archbishop Desmond Tutu (Chairperson of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission). He says,

To forgive is not just to be altruistic. It is the best form of self-interest. It is also a process that does not exclude hatred and anger. These emotions are all part of being human. You should never hate yourself for hating others who do terrible things: the depth of your love is shown by the extent of your anger.

However, when I talk of forgiveness I mean the belief that you can come out the other side a better person. A better person than the one being consumed by anger and hatred.

Remaining in that state locks you in a state of victimhood, making you almost dependent on the perpetrator. If you can find it in yourself to forgive then you are no longer chained to the perpetrator. You can move on, and you can even help the perpetrator to become a better person too. (Read more here).

I’ve also learned so much from The Forgiveness Project.

From a parenting perspective, I do think it’s essential that we teach our children the dangers of self-righteous anger, blame, and resentment. Of course, like every other guidepost in this series, we have to believe it and practice it first. Damn it. 

Our children need to see us practicing forgiveness and I think it’s essential that we let them watch us struggle with letting go of anger, blame, and resentment. On several occasions, I’ve told Ellen, “So-and-so made me so mad and I don’t want to get over it because she was wrong. It feels good to be right, even when it’s keeping me angry and tired.”  Watching us struggle gives them permission to struggle. Talking openly about the difficulty of forgiveness is an invitation to them to talk openly to us.

And, in parenting, isn’t struggling together and talking about it, “the heart of the matter?”

What do you think? What have your experiences with forgiveness taught you?