To forgive is divine … maybe
I have been thinking about forgiveness.
In part because we just passed International Forgiveness Day (did you know that even existed, or is that an “Only in Marin” kinda thing?) and because of a posting by Big Little Wolf’s Daily Plate of Crazy that elicited some comments (including by yours truly).
You can read it for yourself (and you should), but I was taken by something Big Little Wolf (whom I respect a lot) said:
“forgiveness is possible if you’re talking about someone who is dead, or long gone, or who ceases to threaten or hurt. When you find yourself still in the heat of it after years, it isn’t about forgiveness. It’s about protecting your children from the source of the ongoing manipulation and harmful acts. It’s about survival. These aren’t past actions we’re talking about. This is the present for some of us. A present that lasts for many years, and with no end in sight.”
When I brought up the concept of forgiveness, Mindy Single Mom added this:
“being told things along the lines of “forgiveness will set you free” seems condescending. … Forgiving and thinking positive is not a solution under these circumstances but finding a way to end it would be, and that starts by discussing it and gaining some understanding of the problem.”
Sure; a 
lot of people have a lot of things much worse than I have — or have ever had — in my life. And, yes, speaking the truth — and fighting for it — is essential.
Focusing just on forgiveness, I wonder if that is so, that we can only forgive someone who
harms us if the harming is in the past, not a constant present. And if forgiveness is indeed condescending. I wonder if forgiveness is
one of those situational things; you know, you’re anti-abortion and then your teenaged daughter gets knocked up by a rapist,
you’re anti-death penalty and then your fiance gets murdered.
I tend to think it’s not.
If you read the stories of some of the “heroes” of International Forgiveness Day,” it does make you pause.
I know what the Bible says about forgiveness, but without getting all religious on you (which I’m not; hey, I’m from NorCal, so I’m “spiritual, not religious”), everything I know about forgiveness is to set the person being hurt free from having to carry the burden of anger against those harming him or her.
What I understand about forgiveness is that:
- Forgiveness doesn’t excuse anyone.
- Forgiveness doesn’t mean we’re ignoring or denying anything.
- Forgiveness doesn’t mean accepting bad behavior as “right.”
- Forgiveness doesn’t mean we’re giving someone a “buy” or that he/she’s “off the hook.”
- Forgiveness doesn’t mean that we can use it as a weapon, hanging bad behavior over someone’s head forever.
No — forgiveness means that we are stop thinking of ourselves as a “victim” (even if things totally suck) and start taking control of our emotions and choosing to start the healing on our own. Because, you know, ain’t no one else who’s going to do it for for us … and no one else can.
Not that this is a reason to feel forgiveness, but nothing pisses someone off more than when you don’t allow yourself to react to his/her bad shit.
If we don’t buy into the hurt that people want to hurl at us, well, what recourse do they have?
Exactly.
The only one who suffers is the one doing the hurting.
And, maybe, that person will find compassion … and stop.
I think of Leonard Cohen’s words:
Like a bird on the wire
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free …
If I, if I have been unkind
I hope that you can just let it go by.
If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you.
- Is forgiveness only for events that have happened in the past?
- Have you struggled with forgiveness?
- Do you only forgive when someone asks to be forgiven?
- Have you asked for forgiveness, and not gotten it?
Photo © Lars Lachmann — Fotolia.com.
Your perception is your reality, not mine
“That is quite the dress,” I said to Sara, looking stunning in the orange-red gauzy outfit she wore for a backyard get-together a few weeks ago.
“I don’t know. I think it’s too bright,” she said. “What do you think, Sean?”
“Uh, I’m not the one to ask. I’m colorblind.”
“You are?” Sara looked stunned, although I was pretty sure I’d told her that before. “So, what color is this?” she said, grabbing
a blue cocktail napkin
and flashing it before
his face. 
Sean sighed at the familiar exercise; everyone who finds out he’s colorblind wants to play the “color game.” “Look, I can tell you
what I see, but your colors and my colors are different, so what’s the point? We see things differently, that’s all.”
Ah, yes — and isn’t that true about everything?
Haven’t you ever been on a first date that you thought went great, and then you never hear
from him again? I’m guessing he obviously didn’t share your version of reality (although there could be many reasons why he disappeared).
We see the world differently. But it’s not just a guy or gal thing, although, granted, the sexes often see things waaaay different. She thinks the weekend they spent together having sex every which way in every possible location is one step closer to relationship status; he thinks, “Wow, I can’t believe how much sex we had!”
Each of us has different needs and perspectives, and whatever we experience is filtered through that, as well as whatever other distractions are going on in our head at the moment — which is exactly why we can’t see things quite the way other people see things, even though we think we’re seeing or experiencing the same thing.
That’s why when you’re hanging with others and there’s an “incident,” you’ll have as many versions of “the truth” as people who were there. Whose version is “right” or “real”?
Not to get all Rashomon on you, but wouldn’t they all be?
Makes you question whether “reality” is really real.
It can be frustrating, and sometimes I feel like, “wow, you’re not really understanding what’s going on here.” But maybe I’m not!
That wouldn’t be a problem if we approach each other with an understanding that we’re not all the same. The problem is when we start insisting that out interpretation is better than another’s or it’s the “right” one, or if we judge others for their experiences.
And we do that all the time, sometimes in big, dangerous ways, and other times in tiny ways.
“Ugh, I never want us to be like that couple over there,” I recently said to Sean, jerking my head in the direction of a couple sitting at a restaurant table in silence across from each other, seemingly lost in their own thoughts and joyless in their relationship. “How sad that they have nothing to say to each other!”
“Really?” he said, sounding totally surprised. “I was just thinking how peaceful they look, content in their quiet togetherness.”
And so it goes …
- Ever had a shared experience with someone whose perception was vastly different than yours?
- Has someone insisted that your perception of something is “wrong”?
Photo © Christopher Hall – Fotolia.com
A Kat Wilder sex tape?
“So, did you hear that what’s her face made a sex tape?” Sara said.
“Who, Miley?
“No, you know,” Sara said, hoping my middle-aged brain would know what hers obviously couldn’t remember.
“Lady Gaga?”
“No, Gaga’s celibate, remember?”
“Oh, right,” I said halfheartedly because, honestly, I have no interest in celebrities. But I tossed out every name I could think of because that’s what good friends have to do sometimes. “Lindsay? Paris? Angelina? Kate? Heidi?”
“Fishburne!” Sara said with a new-found confidence in her brain. “Montana Fishburne. Yeah, she says it helped that Kardashian girl become famous.” 
“There are, like, 500 Kardashians, and I couldn’t tell one from the other, thankfully. But, what exactly did it help her become famous at? Screwing?
“If Ashleigh made a sex tape, I’d disown her,” Sara said, skirting the issue. “What about you?”
“I would be very surprised if there was a sex tape of Trent floating out there. I don’t even think the poor kid’s gotten laid yet.”
“No, I mean you. Have you made a sex tape?”
“Me? No way! I mean, I think I haven’t.”
“Kat, I would think you’d pretty much know if you did, don’t you?”
Yeah, one would think. But with the technology nowadays, when you’re goofing around with a boyfriend, you never really know what’s going on — or where it will end up — do you?
Like the time I was over Ryan’s house, the somewhat geeky dot-com entrepreneur I dated for a while. We’d slipped into his bed and I noticed there was an eerie light coming from his bedroom closet.
“What’s that” I asked, snuggling under the covers.
“Just some things I have plugged in.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to sound cool with it; he was a techie, after all. But I couldn’t help but wonder why the closet door was slightly ajar.
So I called him on it.
“Are you filming us having sex?”
“No, why?” he said, with just a bit of huffiness in his voice.
I didn’t want to make an issue of it, so I decided to get on with the evening’s, uh, agenda.
When that relationship ended, I started seeing Van. One day, after making a lovely meal together, we got naked and made our way to his hot tub when he began to hoist his movie camera onto a tripod.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought it would be fun to watch us on the TV.”
“You’re not going to film us!”
“No, just projecting us,” he said as he kissed me with his soft lips, which just made me melt, and I didn’t think too much about it.
Until now.
Do I expect to find my naked body gyrating on the Internet for anyone to see … and for free?
Hell no!
And now I feel kind of foolish for not paying a little bit more attention — and also for not fully trusting Ryan and Van.
Not that a have a problem with porn.
Anyone who’s read this blog knows I’m no prude!
I certainly wouldn’t have any objection to making a home porn tape with my lover either, as long as the emphasis was on home, as in staying at home.
And it got destroyed if we broke up.
But having it go viral?
No thank you, even if it meant I’d be “famous.” I can think of other ways I’d seek fame.
However, when I watched that sex tape of Colin Farrell and Nicole Narain, I just couldn’t help thinking, “What a lame blow job — even I can do better than that.” (Ah, if only Colin would give me a chance!)
Hmm, maybe I’m missing my true calling …
- Have you made home porn?
- Ever worry if you’ll find it on the Internet?
Photo © Maciej Mamro – Fotolia.com
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