Still thinking about forgiveness.  Perhaps forgiveness is a practice of refusal.

To the congregation yesterday, I read from Questlove’s Creative Quest, his insightful, not-exactly-a-how-to book on creativity.  He writes about defining our selves and our ideas by what we aren’t.

One of the most important strategies is negative affirmation… Imagining what you won’t become is a necessary refining process.

Refusing to accept bitterness growing in my heart

Refusing the myth of the singular truth, that my perspective is the only one that matters

Refusing to believe that I know the whole story, or that I remember correctly

We learn by addition and subtraction.  In times of great hurt, prolonged hurt, subtraction is a good starting path.  You’re wounded and you can’t add anything to your life right now; addition requires more intent than you have the courage to muster up during your pain.  You can’t root around and come up with an extra helping of hope.  But you can decide what you won’t be while you’re hunkered down licking your sores.

The Hubs and I have people in our life and in our family who are feuding.  Some of these feuds have gone on for years.  Like a fence post that begins to lean against a tree and is eventually grown around, enveloped, I fear many of these people do not even realize how the feuding has reshaped them, has gone to live inside of them.

At some point, someone will ask the question, “Why is that metaphysical fence post sticking out of your middle?” and an unforgiver will realize, “I can’t even remember.  It seemed so important at the time.”

And now here you are with a ridiculous and useless thing you’ve absorbed into yourself.  And your friend, rather concerned, will ask “But…are you ok?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” and you are except: “You have a METAL POST sticking out of your middle…!”

It’s not the best analogy.  But why not try forgiveness anyway?  It won’t feel good immediately.  It might never feel good.  Yes, things won’t go back to the way they were.  It’s still a good thing to do.

And it doesn’t matter if you don’t remember exactly what you’re forgiving.  It’s just a way of saying, well, I’m ready for the new that lies ahead.
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Post #6 of 40 Daze: A Lenten Writing Practice.