The act of forgiveness is perhaps the most
powerful medicine we possess. It’s also the most elusive. When we feel
hurt, betrayed, deceived, abandoned, abused, dismissed, or disrespected
to any degree, our immediate response is to fight or flee. Fighting is
associated with courage, while fleeing suggests protecting ourselves.
Forgiveness requires that we surpass the instinct to fight and redefine
the meaning of self-preservation.
To rise above the understandable reaction to fight or flee, we are
charged with making a deliberate choice. Ordinarily, we don’t exercise
that choice. Instead, we tend to
want to duke it out, to dominate, to win; or maybe we
want to walk away enraged or victimized in order to justify and fuel the anger and resentment we wear like armor.
Being treated badly, regardless of how slightly or severely, insults
the native and correct understanding that we are absolutely worthy of
being treated with respect, kindness, and love. That we should be
honored is inborn knowledge. When we are not, the ego goes wild and
tends to engage with glee in the blame game.
Cancer gives us plenty of reasons to feel angry and victimized. It
may be the diagnosis itself, the painful and debilitating treatment, or
the loss of our normal lives. We may also feel hurt and outrage at the
expectation, imposed upon us by others, that we will die.
Then there are the frustrations of dealing with the current medical
system, complete with insurance companies that double bill us or numb
hospital bureaucrats who charge such exorbitant prices that we end up
having to sell the ranch. Regardless, the cancer industry has forged a
nearly nonnegotiable road for those who get diagnosed.
If those feelings of anger, resentment, victimization, and
powerlessness somehow contributed to the creation of the disease, now is
the time to dig down deep and begin the process of releasing. Chances
are good that we didn’t experience these feelings for the first time
just after the diagnosis; these are probably old and familiar members of
our inner emotional tribe.
To heal, truly and deeply, we are charged with somehow, in some way,
bypassing the urge to retaliate, to cast blame, or to further ignite the
justifications for remaining a victim. We must find the still and
certain center of our hearts, the place that wants to release the
grievances and find peace. It’s the deepest part of our heart that
knows, without doubt, that we are divine and there is no need to fight
or blame. When we feel a tug to be still rather than to fight or flee,
then we’re closer to that center, a territory so subtle and sublime that
it can easily be overlooked.
Giving up the battle is a hard concept in a culture that thrives on
drama and adversity. Before I grasped this concept, I judged a friend
whom I saw backing off from an argument with a coworker, a situation
where my friend was clearly in the right and the coworker clearly in the
wrong. I inquired why she was submitting, and she said, “I asked myself
if I’d rather be
right or at peace. I’d rather be at peace, so
I’m letting it go.” The ferocity in her eyes showed that this wasn’t
the easiest choice, but it was the best one. Plus, she was telling me in
no uncertain terms that this was none of my business.
Each of us is responsible for finding the sweet spot where
forgiveness dwells. Each of us is in charge of how deeply we let our
upsets, anger, resentments, and sorrows run. We have the
choice—always—to let those heavy emotions go. Forgiveness is the way.
It is essential to enact forgiveness with every grudge or judgment
that surfaces, because in order to truly heal, we must admit once and
for all that we are not victims. Rather, at our core, we are powerful,
pure, loving, blissful, peaceful beings. Playing the victim keeps us
bound to the laws of the ego. When we forgive, we sanction who we really
are. We no longer need or want to be the victim, because forgiveness
takes us beyond the rigid dictates of right and wrong. It delivers us to
compassion and the acceptance that we occupy a complex world in which
every point of view can be understood.
