What is forgiveness?

Dalai Lama I ain't. For one thing, I'm way too vain to ever shave off my auburn hair. I paid a lot of money for this color, honey. It's not going anywhere anytime soon.

But the weird thing is, whether you're His Holiness the Dalai Lama or nobody in particular, we all struggle with the same life stuff, to varying degrees. The D.L. is more advanced on the path to enlightenment, but he's also a human being. I'm betting he swears when he stubs his toe on a door, just like the rest of us common people. The difference is he automatically forgives the door for hurting him, and himself for not paying enough attention. The rest of us? Not so much.

Goddamn door.

Forgiveness is something we all struggle with. I think that's partly because we aren't quite sure what's required of us, if it means just letting go of past crap or if it also means taking on a share of the blame, by default. Our pride (which stems from our ego, now, doesn't it) balks at the suggestion WE are on par with the people who've done us wrong in life, and that pride/ego can't just let go of the convenience of blame so easily. That leads to grudges, and grudges lead to long-term resentment. And that leads to a mighty heavy load to bear, a load that affects every other part of our lives whether we see it or not. It's a dark mark on the soul, or if you aren't inclined to believe in a soul, the psyche.

But there are some times, though, we are completely innocent of blame. Children who are abused and terrorized are not to blame for what perpetrators do to them. They're completely innocent. So would be the mentally impaired, the unarmed, anyone without adequate defense attacked without provocation by someone with more power. That inequality exempts the innocent from blame, but the bummer of it is resentment held even by the innocent is a terribly heavy weight to bear. Even the innocent must suffer. The Universe doesn't play favorites.

So, what's the answer? It's not an easy one. It still requires a measure of what they call "eating crow" in a lot of cases, admitting complicity in your conflict with another person. In all cases it requires letting go of the grudge, the defense mechanism you picked up when you hardened yourself against the person who harmed you.

Funny, but that grudge can become so comfortable. It wears on you, fitting closely to you like a second skin. You wouldn't think so, but it does. It has the illusion of giving you power, evening out the field. But it really doesn't. All it actually does is pull you down to a level lower than you deserve.

Rising above means letting go of all that weight, but it will never mean forgetting. You can't wipe out memories, well, unless you're me and you're so busy you can barely remember yesterday. Those scars from the past just don't go away.

You'd think we'd remember that before knowingly inflicting pain on others, or acting in ways we know will likely result in harm for ourselves. But we so often don't. There's that damned EGO again, that cocky S.O.B. But it's also that same EGO that is an integral part of ourselves. He's like the annoying relative you're ashamed of, but you can't deny the blood link. You can cut him off, stop sending him Christmas cards and not invite him to the reunion, but he's still your kin. He's like herpes. He may be in remission but he's there, dude. He's there. And part of his blood runs through your veins.

A good argument for a complete blood transfusion, eh?

Knowing the right thing to do is one thing. Doing it is quite another. I can blah, blah, blah all I want about knowing I have to dump my baggage, but actually letting it go is another thing. I'm thinking it's a process, not so much something you usually wake up and decide to do. That probably happens sometimes, but more often than not we consciously decide we have to do this, we hem and haw, and we have a few false starts. Then, we either say screw it, I'm keeping this load a while longer (despite the fact I'm well aware it's doing me harm) or we start letting it go. It may not feel so comfortable at first. The weight's a bitch but it's been there so long it's familiar. A person feels more vulnerable for a while without that armor, but in reality the process can only make you stronger.

So I tell myself, and so I know to be true. Too bad I'm so disgustingly human. Vile sometimes, isn't it? Next time around maybe I'll come back as a plant, something with less conflict going on, with a less complex brain. Like some of my relatives, but not that hick. Please dear god not that hick...

Here's to working out issues, eh? Life can be so damn fun sometimes!

Go ye forth.