Struggling With Forgiveness

“Forgiving people doesn’t mean you necessarily want to meet them for lunch. It means you try to undo the Velcro hook. Lewis Smedes said it best: ‘To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner is you.’

‘I wish there’d been a shortcut, but the would had to be revealed in order to heal. Lack of forgiveness seemed like a friend, the engine that drove my life, with a hot little motor that was weirdly invigorating. It had helped me survive.”

“…

“Forgiveness is release from me; somehow, finally. I am returned to my better, dopier self, so much lighter when I don’t have to drag the toxic chatter, wrangle, and pinch around with me anymore. Not that I don’t get it out every so often, for old time’s sake. But the trapped cloud is no longer so dark or dense. It was blown into wisps, of smoke, of snow, of ocean spray.”
—Anne Lamott, Small Victories, p 117-118
“Forgiveness means it is finally unimportant for you to hit back.” pp 141-142

The journey with forgiveness, and all of my anger and rage, and general unsettledness, depression, and “not know what to do about it” feelings, is long and tough. Answers aren’t easy, and I practice all of my avoidance, not wanting to really deal with it.
But, I must. I must take it on and get into it. It is always time to deal with my anger, my resentment, and sort it out. Now.

New stuff raises up the old stuff, the stuff long buried, ignored, almost forgotten. It is still there; all of it. Until I deal with it and let it go, it will be around, nagging at me, eating away, and keeping me from moving on and letting go.

I am good at mortaring my brick walls and erecting barriers, keeping my monsters hidden in the basement of my life. But, I am a lousy housekeeper, and now might be a good time for some deep cleaning, and breaking down of the walls I have built over the years.

Desmond and Mpho Tutu’s book on forgiveness is a rich discussion, inviting me to take all of this on, and really deal with it. Their 30 day exercises and discussions on the subject via e-mail are excellent, cleaning out my puss filled wounds and giving me permission to heal.

I have all the tools. I have the time. I have the motivation. And, yes, I do this work. I take it on, and I see the benefits of being truly and fully engaged in the process of forgiveness. I feel lighter, freer, happier. I can move on now, on many levels.

Yet, there are some things I haven’t really dug into, to really work on forgiveness, with some people, some experiences. It is too painful, I say to myself. Yet, there is something else. Perhaps I really enjoy the struggle, the tension, yes, even the hurt. I don’t want to let that go. If I forgive, truly forgive, then I don’t have that anger inside of me, that energy of hatred and distrust.

It is, perhaps, an addiction, a need I have to feel that way. Being pissed off at someone or some experience has become a deep part of myself. If that goes away, if I release that, then what is left? Will I become a lesser person?

That releasing is scary to me. I am not ready, I tell myself. The real answer, however, is that I am afraid of who I might really be once those toxins are flushed away, and I truly heal inside. I hold on to the hate and the hurt, just in case I am not strong enough to live a full, whole life without that flame of rage that still has a place next to my heart.

This is the dilemma I wrestle with, the feelings I must explore, the doubts I must address and really deal with.

Perhaps I need to reframe the question, and look to forgive myself for who I am now, who I have become, and deal with the hurt I have let burn inside of me. Yes, I need to let it go, and be who I really am deep inside. I might even like him, a lot.

—Neal Lemery, 1/3/2015

Towards Becoming A Complete Person: Ubuntu

Towards Becoming A Complete Person

In the Xhosa culture of South Africa, there is a word, ubuntu. Roughly translated, it is the concept of “a person is a person through other persons”. That is, I am not who I am really meant to be in this life, unless I am in service to, and compassionate towards other persons. It is only through empathy, compassion, and service that I fulfill my mission in this life to God to be whole, to be complete. One’s life is not fulfilled and does not have complete and honest meaning unless one is of service to others, and is fully compassionate.

Desmond Tutu writes of this concept, this essence of culture and humanity, in his book, God is Not A Christian: Speaking Truth in Times of Crisis. (2011).

Much of Western thought is exemplified by Descartes’ maxim, “I think, therefore, I am.” Yet, Archbishop Tutu urges us to think outside of Western thought, and view our lives in terms of “I am because I belong.” We need other human beings to survive, and to find real meaning in our lives.

Each of us is different, and we each have gifts. Our gifts are not the gifts of our neighbors, and our neighbors’ gifts are not ours. In that, we have need for each other.

“Ubuntu speaks of spiritual attributes such as generosity, hospitality, compassion, caring, sharing. You could be affluent in material possession, but still be without ubuntu. This concept speaks of how people are more important than things, than profits, than material possessions. It speaks about the intrinsic worth of people not dependent on extraneous things such as status, race, creed, gender or achievement.” (Tutu, p 22)

In Xhosa culture, ubuntu is cherished and coveted more than anything else. This quality in people distinguishes people from other animals.

Western society has made enormous progress, because of our personal drive and initiative. Yet, there are substantial costs to this “progress”. People are lonely, and there is an obsession with achievement and success. Such a culture views failure as a personal, even moral, disaster. We tend to not forgive and to accept people who have “failed” in the eyes of society.

Such a culture does not give much value to forgiveness and compassion. We tend to not understand suffering, or to identify with people who are suffering, including ourselves. In that experience and view, we risk becoming less human, less fulfilled.

In other cultures, such as the Maori of New Zealand, and Aborigines in Australia, each person is highly valued, and each person has a a clear identity and role in their culture. Everyone has value, and everyone’s participation in society has a cherished value in that society. Everyone is worthy, and everyone has a story to tell.

Indeed, we are here so that we can tell our story, and the story of our people. In that story is the connection with others, with living our lives with and through other people. And, as we go about our lives, we are in service to and living for the benefit of others. Compassion and forgiveness, rehabilitation, and acceptance, are all strong and cherished values. In life, we are here to help others connect with God, with their people, and with the stories of our brothers and sisters, our neighbors, and with the world. We are interconnected, and in that interconnectedness, there is love and purpose.

Not that the Xhosa, the Maori, or the Aborigines have perfect, ideal cultures, and not that they are always happy and fulfilled. Like any people, they have their problems, and their stresses, as well as their struggles and deep questions. Yet, they have a strong sense of community and they deeply value every member. Everyone has a role to play, and a mission in their lives to serve others, to be a part of the greater whole.

Forgiveness is a challenging topic. Contemplating true forgiveness, for me, is often a struggle and a dilemma. I do not find easy answers and easy solutions to the hard questions and the difficult anxieties and challenges I have about many things.

Yet, if I approach my wrestling matches with a sense of Ubuntu, and passion towards finding forgiveness deep inside of my soul, then I can see that much of my struggles are eased, and that there is a way out of the wilderness, and that I am moving forward on my path to trying to live better, to live more honestly. The burdens I have are lifted a bit, and I can see a glimmer of the Light ahead in my journey.

Neal Lemery
2/9/2014

Candlelight: A Story Teller Visits the Youth Prison

We gather in a circle, to hear from the story teller who has quietly appeared among us. His quiet presence is greeted with respect; admiration for his time with us six months ago, his quiet message of hope, and healing, and his wisdom.

We share an opening prayer, a sense of being at peace with the universe, and with our souls. And, a sense of coming together.

Each of us is invited to tell our names, where we had come from, and a bit about our own journeys. All of our experiences, all of who we were, and are, and are becoming, are welcomed into this circle. The chaos of our lives, our pain, our joys, are all welcomed and accepted, without limits.

In this prison, there are many stories of tragedy and pain, loss and suffering. Some of those experiences are given voice today, in this circle, and are accepted and acknowledged. There is no blame, no judgement today; only acceptance and compassion. And, in the telling, there is healing, perhaps a sense of understanding and forgiveness.

In my community, there are many prisons. But, when I come here, I can see the physical fences, and the locked doors. At least when I come here, the walls and the barriers to freedom are obvious. For so many away from here, their walls and locks take other forms, and may not even be known to those who are locked away by the prisons in their lives.

Some of the young men offer a hint of the pain in their lives, the violence, the drugs, the abandonment and anger; the absence of community. Others nod in agreement; such pain is so common in this place of acknowledgement and healing. They are here to change. And in that work, they find direction and hope. They do this together, united for a common purpose. In this place, being aware of the possibility for change, for unconditional love, is part of the air they breathe.

The storyteller’s visit is part of that change, that opening of doors to understanding, to acceptance, to personal salvation and love.

Several young men offer their gifts of song, opening their hearts, and touching our lives with the beauty of the moment and their own journeys.

Others offer a wooden staff to the leader of the drumming circles here. She comes here and leads us in prayer and song, giving the young men, and me, her unconditional love and guidance through troubled seas. The staff, adorned with beads, and feathers, and other symbols of hope and love, is a gift back to her of what she has given here. Their decorations and gifts and blessing of the staff fills the room with that sense of community. We pass the staff around the circle, each of us offering a blessing, a wish, an acknowledgement of the power of others to change our lives. The power of that sharing and healing fills all of our hearts with love.

The story teller told us of his life, and his sister’s recent death. He spoke of the tragedies in her life, and how, through all the pain and loss, she still loved people unconditionally. His loss and his pain are mirrored in the faces of the young men gathered in the circle. A sense of knowing that pain, and compassion for others grows in the room. This place is safe now, a sacred place for being in that pain, and having our own sparks of humanity accepted.

Unconditional love is his message today. In his native stories and tales, in his words about his own life, the message is repeated.

In our lives, and our experiences, and in our pain and sufferings, we are preparing ourselves for the work ahead. There will be times when our presence, and our unconditional love for others, will change lives. What we are going through now is merely preparation for the gift giving we will do in the future.

One young man offers a song in memory of the storyteller’s sister, filling us all with sadness and hope and a bit of that unconditional love.

Others give voice to their struggles, their anger, their work to become healthy men.

The storyteller leads us in a dance around the circle, holding hands, all moving to a drum beat, singing an ancient, timeless song. In movement, we become one; there are no leaders and no followers. We became community, accepting and united.

Stories are told, letting us nod and laugh together, hearing his tales, and joining together in the acknowledgment of his story. His work brings us together, to a feeling of being one, of each of us having value, of being accepted for who we are, right now. And, again, judgement is suspended. Unconditional love lights up the room.

Telling our stories is what we need to do in our lives. In our stories, and in the stories of others, we find acceptance, and we find community. As we drum together, sing together, and listen to our stories, we come together. We are one.

In my heart, I touch my own pain, my own losses, my own doubts and fears. The storyteller’s songs of love and acceptance, and of his own pain and his own journey through life brings me renewal. That spark of humanity, of the power and force of love as a healer, as a single candle that can light the entire room, is fed by his quiet presence in our lives.

In all of our eyes today, I see acceptance, reconciliation, forgiveness, and unity in all of what we experience in our humanity. We become a stronger community, telling our stories, finding acceptance and hope.

–Neal Lemery 11/4/2012

A Letter to My Young Friend in Prison

Dear ____________:

It was good to go deep with you today.

As always, I found you working on several difficult issues, and moving forward with all of them. You have healthy goals, and you have worthy dreams. You always do.

Young men worry about who they are, and what they want to accomplish, and what is their destiny. And, actually, we all worry about that. At least, I do.

I don’t always count my blessings, and I can worry about things that I have no control over, or things that turn out to be pretty insignificant. I struggle with feelings and emotions, and I get myself tied up in knots about things. Another young man I know calls that “catastrophizing”. A good term for that “tie my stomach in knots” feeling.

So, when you struggle, and doubt, and worry, you are not alone. And, when you see some people and situations in your life that need some fixing, and things aren’t getting fixed, that is normal.

Each of us can only fix ourselves. We aren’t the mechanics for other people. We don’t lead their lives. And, we aren’t the boss. Well, we are the boss of ourselves. We do have the ability to direct our own lives, and to manage our own affairs. And, what other people do and what other people might think of us — well, not much we can do about that.

You are a normal guy. You have normal worries, and normal doubts and normal insecurities. You get frustrated when relationships and other things don’t get “fixed”. That’s normal.

I see you accomplishing a whole lot. Certainly more than most 21 year old men I have known. OK, you are in prison and you don’t have a lot of “freedom”. Yet, you have done a great deal of hard work in getting your own house in order, and healing yourself. You have educated yourself a great deal about who you are, where you come from, and who you want to be.

Most young men haven’t done that. Most young men haven’t laid out the high moral standards and ethics you have set for yourself. The work you have done has been very valuable, and very important. I think you see that, sometimes. In a few years, you will see this time as a very rich, and a very valuable experience.

As you do your heart work, know that I support you, and I believe in you. I am grateful you have this opportunity, to know yourself better, and to gain information which will lead to even more self discovery, and to more healing of whatever wounds you discover.

Part of that healing work involves forgiveness.

I hope that you are doing some forgiveness of yourself in all this. Forgiveness is a very good gift to give to yourself. It is part of that struggle you have with accepting a gift.

You want to “pay off your restitution”. “Restitution” means “to restore, to put back”. Part of restitution is forgiving yourself. That will be harder to do than sending money off to the State. But, more rewarding, and more freeing.

You are doing all of this work for the right reasons: self understanding.

Most every time I leave prison after a visit with you, I say to myself “Wow. I don’t know if I could deal with that.”

A lot of the stuff you talk about that you have experienced, well, I think I might just want to find a dark corner and pull a blanket over my head, and slip away into a bit of self imposed craziness.

But, you don’t take that cheap route. You dig in and work through the crap that you have to deal with sometimes, and you get it on. You sort through it, and you do what is needed to be healthy, and sane, and whole.

You may think you don’t get much support from other folks on what you are going through and what you are doing. But, you do. Your Team is out there, cheering you on.

I try to be a good cheerleader, a good support person for you. I don’t always do a great job, and I often don’t have the tools and the pompoms and the special cheerleader cheers that work for you. But, I still show up and I still cheer you on.

I believe in you and I believe in your journey.

And, you teach me more about courage and decency and character than anything else in my life.

I thank you for that, from deep in my heart.

Sincerely,

Neal C. Lemery