Forgiveness

Last week I was feeling terrible that I had failed, or worse, that I was a failure. I was having a hard time forgiving myself. I was saying, “You did the best you could, it was a hard situation, don’t beat yourself up.” I was feeling foolish for having gone ahead with a plan that seemed like a good idea at the time (a great idea, in fact), and it fell far short of the mark, costing me money, instead of making it. The plan was that I would spend money to make bases for my sculptures in an exhibit I was having and then I would sell the bases. The bases would be cool pieces of furniture, and the art would make them even more attractive and saleable⎯I would make money not from my art, but using the art to sell furniture. I felt so clever. When the plan didn’t work, my thoughts went something like this:

“What was I thinking? I had way too much on my plate, there was no time for this plan to work. What kind of fantasy was I having? Especially since I wasn’t allowed to sell anything in the gallery anyway (it was a museum). I am such a fool for going ahead with a plan when I knew there was a big barrier in the way. More fantasy! What is wrong with me? You just buried your head in the sand, and made a bad decision.”

And then my voice says this:

“You did the best you could.”

Well, that certainly didn’t feel any better. It is so patronizing! What I am really saying to myself? It is not like saying it to a fireman that struggled and put his life at risk to save a child in a burning building and he wasn’t able to, or an athlete that runs flat out and finishes last. In these cases, it is really honoring what they did do. When the mayor or the coach says, “You did the best you could”, it feels great, because they are saying something like, “You were in your full power. We honor you for the power that you are. We share your sadness and frustration that there are forces and people stronger than you.”

When I say it to myself, I am not honoring myself. Imagine the fireman who walks up to a fire and says, “Whoa, it’s too hot in there! I could get hurt”, and walks away. Now what does he think when the parent of the child says, “You did the best you could”? What does the parent really want to say? Probably something like “You’re selfish”. No honor.

So what I am saying to myself is, “You are a fool.” Not so nice. I am not just saying that my wisdom fell short (which might be true, just like the athlete that finished last), but that somehow I am less-than, or unworthy. This is the place of judgment. I am diminishing myself.

Why do I start to judge myself? Why don’t I just think that I really needed a bit more wisdom, that I was operating at my capacity, and that was all I had? Because the swirly mucky feeling in my belly tells me something else is going on. When I don’t know what the muck is, I think I am muck. And when I look at someone else, and I see something mucky going on, and I don’t understand it, I think they are the muck I see.

So how do I forgive myself? How do I forgive others?

Forgiveness comes about from understanding. Understanding what? That a person did the best they could? No, not really. What I need to understand is my judgment, and how to see beyond it.

When we judge, here’s what we don’t get: that everything the person we are judging did originated from a positive intent. Everything they did was taking care of someone. Yes, they may have been taking care of themselves, but not in a way that we might call selfish (that’s judgmental). They were truly trying to love and be loved in the midst of all of their fear and pain. So what we really don’t get is that they were in pain.

Compassion arises for anyone we see in pain. If we don’t get that they are in pain, we don’t have any compassion. How can I be compassionate to someone I think is being a jerk? I think that they just are a jerk. And no one is a jerk. Just ask them. I am sure they will tell you that they are not.

Here’s the thing:
Everyone at all times is acting from a positive intent.

The shift is to stop thinking that people do bad things. Try thinking of how they are doing something positive for themselves. Try asking “How are they taking care of themselves?”. It may not work out so well for you or for them, but underneath it all somewhere every action arises from taking care of themselves. And because of this, everyone wants to be honored for everything they do. Not just some things, but everything, because way down inside they see how they are doing a good job. Somewhere deep inside, everyone really believes “I did the best I could”, in the way the fireman that tried to save a child did. Some readers might want to argue that I don’t know what people believe way down inside, positive intent and good jobs and all. That may be true, so let me drop any philosophy and talk about what we experience, something that is hard to argue with. To put it simply, the heart of the matter, the place where judgment falls away and forgiveness begins, is this:

Everyone wants to be loved for everything they do.

So what is the truth about what I was doing when I didn’t sell the statue bases? The truth is that I was afraid to fail. Nothing wrong with that, right? Failing can be rather uncomfortable. But what got in my way was the fear that when I failed, I would confirm what I already felt inside: that I am nothing. As long as I avoid failure, I never have to touch the place of nothingness deep inside. A good way to avoid failure is not to try. So I was trying to take care of my inner pain by not following through. Rather than being weak and foolish, I was coming from a place of wisdom and strength: Find ways to not do anything that would poke at my old pain. I figured out a really good way to do that! Sure, it doesn’t end up so good in the end, but I was coming from a place of positive intent. Then I can just say “Oh, Cosmo, I see what you are doing. I see how you were taking care of your pain. I see your wisdom and your strength in protecting that injury.” And it almost worked. I almost escaped feeling like a failure by blaming things like “there was to much to do” and “there were rules that limited me”. But the blame inside still felt yucky, so I didn’t escape. But I can really honor how I was operating at the limits of my wisdom. It may be the wisdom of a 5-year-old, but I was still powerful in it.

And there is so much forgiveness in seeing the truth. I can just say to myself, with a little laugh, “You are still doing that? That old one bit me in the ass again! You don’t need to do that anymore. You know that you are not nothing, you know and can feel the love and light that you are!”. I know the love and light that I am. Yet it’s still old patterns in my body. Ha ha!

So imagine that when someone hurts you, the pain they are experiencing inside must be even greater. See that they just are in pain. There is not judgment in this. There is no beating them up for what they did. It is just the clearest possible description. It is just what is. It is just the closest thing we can get to the truth.