Is Forgiveness for Them or for Me?

Forgiveness is mostly something I give myself. It releases the hold that a person, an incident, or a whole relationship still has on me, and it hands back the ability to choose instead of react. Sometimes it gives the other person something too, relief from guilt or shame, but that is a bonus, not the mechanism.

Am I Giving Something to Them, or to Myself?

Sometimes it sounds like a transfer. I forgave him. I forgave her. As if I handed something over.

Maybe it's a little of both.

Take the case where the person has no idea. They aren't aware they offended me, don't know they hurt me. If I forgive them privately, I've given something to myself. I've released the hold that incident had on me. Nothing moved between us at all.

Now take the case where they do know. They understand my displeasure, or they just carry guilt over it. If I offer forgiveness directly, it lands somewhere. It offers relief from the guilt, from the shame.

Then there's the case where the person doesn't believe they did anything wrong. I think we're still offering something to ourselves there. Still releasing the hold that an incident, a series of them, or a long relationship had on us. Still setting down a burden.

There's a fourth case that catches people off guard.

Why Forgiveness Sometimes Makes the Other Person Angrier

If someone dislikes me, or carries real animosity toward me, my forgiveness may stir them up further. It may trigger them.

Often that's because they have programming telling them they're supposed to be angry with me. Whether it started with something I did or with something from long before I was in the picture, they know they're supposed to feel that way. Forgiveness makes that hard to keep holding.

Almost anyone with a conscience is moved by forgiveness, especially forgiveness that isn't deserved. Being moved that way creates a problem for them. From their side, in that moment, it registers as a negative. Their anger goes up.

I saw a version of this in retail management. I used to tell the other managers to send the angry customers to me. My motive wasn't entirely pure. I do have a way of defusing situations, but I also knew an old habit of mine: as the anger came on, I went the opposite direction. Sometimes those customers ended up furious at me precisely because I wouldn't react.

What It Costs to Hold On

Say I haven't forgiven someone. I'm carrying the weight of my displeasure, my unhappiness, maybe my hatred.

It's heavy.

It doesn't have to be at the surface. I don't have to be conscious of it. It's still affecting me. I have resistance to that person, and underneath that, resistance to the way things are.

So much of the spiritual path is about letting go. Holding on takes us the other direction. The more attached I am to my emotions and my reactions, the less present I am with what actually is.

Forgiveness Is Not Denying What I Feel

I'm not saying we deny our emotions, or the displeasure we feel toward another person.

We acknowledge it, the same way we'd acknowledge someone else's displeasure with us on a good day, when we're at our best. We can extend ourselves that same courtesy. We're not pushing emotions away or bypassing them.

My goal, for myself and for the people who sit with me in retrocession, is to be fully present with those emotions. The displeasure. The anger.

And then to have it stop there.

There's a research finding I keep coming back to: the initial spark of an emotion lasts only a matter of seconds. Everything after that is triggered, and in some sense unnecessary.

I want to be careful with that. It doesn't make the rest a choice. We usually aren't conscious of what's running. Programming starts on its own when an emotion is stirred, and we can't decide to stop it while it's still in place.

Forgiveness Is How the Choice Comes Back

So the emotion comes up. Then what?

If I'm not triggered, either because there was never programming there or because it's been cleared through retrocession, I can look at the situation calmly. I feel the emotion. And I still have the tools: reason, mind, intellect, instinct.

I decide what I'm going to do. Then I do it.

That is real autonomy. I'm not reacting to what I think someone else wants from me, or doing what society tells me to do. I listen to my heart and my mind, because I was given both for a reason.

When programming runs instead, it runs on its own, usually without my awareness. It can feel like I'm making a choice. I am not.

Forgiveness is how we get back to square one, where choosing is possible again.

It may well be offered for the other person's sake. This doesn't have to be selfish. If anything, a selfish motive probably works against the forgiveness.

What If the Person Is Actually Dangerous?

This is where people get worried. If I forgive, what happens if this person really is a problem? What if they put me in danger, took away my autonomy, were abusive or hateful?

We do not need resentment to keep ourselves safe.

Instinct can tell me to stay away. Reason can look at the situation coolly and conclude that it isn't one I want to be in, and that I'm going to extract myself from it.

And then there's the most important tool of them all. Boundaries.

Boundaries are what make forgiveness not only possible but productive. Sometimes forgiveness is free: I offer it, and no unintended consequences follow. But when someone is dangerous, when someone takes my peace, I can forgive and set a hard boundary in the same breath.

Skipping the boundary is what makes forgiveness dangerous. Then I'm back to carrying the weight, not using reason or instinct, leaning on that good old programming to keep me safe instead.

I'd caution against trusting it. Programming often doesn't keep us safe, because it never runs in isolation. Five past memories can fire at once, from five directions, and we react in irrational ways that cause suffering for us and everyone near us.

We can choose to keep the hatred. We can choose to keep the displeasure. I'd venture that in most cases, the person it hurts most is us.

A Way to Practice It

I recorded a guided meditation on this. Its shape says something the talk alone doesn't.

It starts easy. Bring to mind someone who loves you effortlessly, and notice what love actually feels like in your body. Then an acquaintance you see often but aren't close to. Then, and only then, someone you have some bad blood with.

Two parts matter most to me.

Seeing Yourself Through Their Eyes

You shift point of view. Looking out through their eyes, noticing what memories they might have of you. Not to excuse anything. Not even necessarily to empathize. Just to see. If judgment creeps in, let it be there. That's part of the exercise too.

Choosing the Distance First

Before wishing anything for that person, you decide how far away to put them. Maybe a couple of feet, close enough for a hug. Maybe the furthest reach of the universe. Either one is fine.

Then you start small. Food. Water. Clothing. Shelter. Nothing generous is required. A shack by the river counts. Then, if it feels right, something they're passionate about. Then love, and it doesn't have to be your love.

If you hit resistance, breathe into it. Counterintuitively, it expands rather than shrinks, until it's spread so thin it's like mist you could walk through instead of a dense lump in your chest.

The end result is not necessarily loving that person deeply. It is not necessarily wanting to be around them.

Just forgiveness. Nothing more.

There's no right or wrong way to do this. If you don't want to do part of it, don't. Some people have been badly harmed.

Continue Exploring

Read “How Do I Release Emotional Baggage Without Forgetting the Past?” for the difference between setting down the weight and losing the memory.

Read “Why Is Letting Go So Hard?” for why the part of you that won't release is usually protecting you.

Read “What Is Retrocession?” for the process I use to locate and clear that programming.

Read “Integrate, Don’t Erase” for how releasing the hold of an experience differs from excusing it.

Read “How Can I Feel Emotion Without Being Controlled by It?” for what it means to feel anger or hurt without being run by it.

Read “What Retrocession Isn’t” for why the process never asks you to forgive before you’re ready.