Torah Reflections November – 1-7, 2015

Chayei Sarah

Genesis 23:1 – 25:18

When Isaac Met Rebekah 

This week’s Torah portion opens with Sarah’s death. After Abraham mourns her, he sets out to accomplish his last fatherly duty before he, too, makes his transition: finding a wife for his son Isaac. Abraham sends his most faithful servant back to the city of Nachor, his hometown, to find Isaac a spouse from his clan.

As the servant arrives at the well of the city, he begins to verbalize out loud—talking to God—the mental picture he created about how meeting the right woman for Isaac would unfold, down to the specific behavior she would have to display for him to know she is the one. As he prays for success, he repeats time and again the word chesed (loving-kindness): “Act inchesed with my master Abraham.” [Gen. 24:12]  “Through her I will know that you have acted in chesed with my master.” [Gen. 24:14] And when he is finally certain he’s found the one in Rebekah, he bows down and cries: “Blessed is the Eternal, God of my master Abraham, Who has not relinquished His chesed from my master.” [Gen. 24:27]

For our mystics, Chesed is the quality (the Sefirah of the Kabbalisitc Tree of Life) associated with Abraham. Throughout his life, they affirm, Abraham embodied Chesed in his actions and his level of faith. But as Abraham’s days now come to an end, there is a fear that, perhaps, this quality was slipping away from him as these verses from his servant seem to indicate. Some commentators suggest that since the Akedah—the near sacrifice of Isaac—God had stopped talking to Abraham. It was even an angel, and not God Himself, that intervened in-extremis to stop Abraham from killing his son. Perhaps in finding Rebekah, the servant is seeking to either compel God to bestow chesed upon Abraham once again, or to be reassured that, despite the episode of the Akedah, God still holds his master in loving-kindness.

But there is another possibility. The servant’s proof that God is acting with chesed lies in the quality of the woman he is looking for. She is the one to embody this loving-kindness; the one, according to his prayer, that will give him water from the well and will spontaneously offer to water his camels too. And Rebekah fulfills his prediction exactly. God might not restore Abraham to his former status; instead he might be transferring onto Rebekah—as the new heir to His Promise—the continuity of this quality of Chesed. And Isaac was in dire need of bringing chesed into his life. One of the consequences of the Akedah is that Isaac comes out of the ordeal embodying the qualities of restraint (of one’s impulses,) of strict justice, and of righteous power. Isaac, the Kabbalists say, symbolizes the quality of Gevurah (power, strength,) the opposite of chesed. Opposites may or may not attract but they need one another. Isaac finds in Rebekah the energies, the qualities that balance out his own. She not only consoles him after the death of his mother but keeps alive in his life, his father’s energies as well.

What about us? What would be our Sefirah on the Kabbalistic Tree of Life? What is our dominant character trait, our personal “center of gravity”? What unique primary quality do we embody? Our Kabbalistic reading of Torah invites us to look for such quality and check for ourselves if it may be so dominant in us that it has become, perhaps, a stumbling block in our life, stunting our personal growth; a disabling force in our relationships. And if that’s the case, our work is to discover and practice enhancing the opposite quality. To find healing and balance in our lives we are not to disown our inner Isaac (nor let it remain single,) but to seek instead to find its counterpart at the well of our Self, and invite-in the inner Rebekah we will meet there.

Torah Reflections – October 25-31, 2015

Genesis 18:1 – 22:24

A Place of Great Evil

In this week’s Torah portion we encounter a place of great evil: Sodom and Gomorrah. And God, in our story, has resolved to destroy both cities. It seems that, together with the Babel episode just a few chapters earlier, God has something against humans dwelling in cities. I suspect that, for the agrarian people of the Torah—composed mostly of shepherds and farmers—the fortified cities of their enemies represented all that was evil in the world.

God has heard the wickedness and sinfulness of the people of Sodom and Gomorrah and He is about to come down to wipe these cities from the face of the earth. But in this case, God isn’t sure how to proceed, mindful that He is of Abraham’s anticipated reaction. God’s Self talk in this passage is remarkable:

Should I hide from Abraham what I am about to do? […] For I have selected him, so that he may teach his children and those who come after him to keep the way of the Eternal, to do what is right and just… [Gen. 18:17-19]

In a surprising expression of openness, God ends up sharing His plan with Abraham—including him in the decision process—with the full knowledge that he might argue against His plan to destroy the cities, which, it turns out, Abraham forcefully do. Abraham’s plea, on the surface level, might appear to be on behalf of the few righteous people that might still live in Sodom or Gomorrah. At a deeper level, however, it is a plea on God’s behalf and on behalf of humanity as a whole. Abraham harangues God:

“Heaven forbid! Must not the Judge of all the earth do justly?” [Gen. 18:25]

The Midrash (the homiletic Torah commentary) translates Abraham’s words to be saying: “The judge of the whole earth shall not do justice — if it is a world You want, then strict justice is impossible. And if it is strict justice You want, then a world is impossible.” (Bereshit Rabbah 49:20). Abraham seems to be arguing with God that a world of absolutes is not achievable in the dualistic relative plane of creation; that if absolute justice is what God intends for His world then He will continue to destroy it time and again. A degree of compassion, of loving-kindness, chesed in Hebrew, is what is needed in this relative plane to balance out justice, for a world to be sustainable. Abraham, in the Kabbalistic tradition is the one who embodies these energies of compassion and loving-kindness. He is the biblical character whose name is associated with the Sephirah of chesed on the mystical Tree of Life.

And so perhaps this passage in our Torah portion is there to remind us that, despite what the world is telling us—and what our ego is prone to believe—there is no absolute evil in the world. In the moments when we find ourselves rendering (absolute) judgments about who we are, who others are, and how things should be, we, like God in our Torah portion, might be best advised to consult our inner Abraham before giving voice to our destructive wrath.

Torah Reflections October 11-17, 2015


Genesis 6:9 – 11:32

Noah: A Righteous Man in His Generation?

There is a thought-provoking Midrash about Noah from this week’s Torah portion that details a debate between two rabbis as to why the biblical author begins with introducing Noah as “a righteous man in his generation.” [Gen. 6:9] Why, the rabbis ask, insist on specifying “in his generation?”

 Rabbi Yehudah said: Only in his generation was he a righteous man [by comparison]; had he flourished in the generation of Moses or Samuel, he would not have been called righteous: in the street of the totally blind, the one-eyed man is called clear-sighted… Rabbi Nechemiah said: If he was righteous even in his generation, how much more so [had he lived] in the age of Moses.

[Midrash Rabbah – Genesis XXX, 9]

We recall from Noah’s story that—in his generation—corruption, violence and lawlessness reigned supreme in the world, which prompted God to decide to wipe the human race from the face of the earth through a great flood. Compared to the rest of humanity, the Torah tells us that Noah was a “tzadik:” the embodiment of justice. He was “tamim:” wholehearted, innocent and humble. His name itself means peaceful, quiescent, and equanimous. Our text goes so far as to specify that “Noah walked with God.” [Gen. 6:9] This is who Noah was, so God spared him.

At first sight, one would be tempted to side with Rabbi Nechemiah in his assessment of Noah’s righteousness. We see in our time, with our generation wrestling still with corruption, violence and lawlessness, that the voice of the just is drowned by the cacophony of mind-numbing distraction that overwhelms us. In a highly materialistic world, surrounded on all sides by a culture of greed that relentlessly tugs at our ego to get more, be more, have more, regardless of the hurt and the devastation that come in the wake of our race to self-destruction, who has the capacity to remain impervious? When the world around offers us a non-stop whirlwind of diversion, it takes a virtually inhuman feat of character to stay untouched, quiescent and equanimous; to stave off those influences and preserve one’s integrity, ethics and authenticity.

But Rabbi Yehudah’s argument is just as legitimate. For even when Noah was the quintessential personification of justice, humility, peace and equanimity, he lacked a certain quality that would allow him to stand with the likes of Moses or the prophet Samuel. Yes, Noah “walked with God;” but for Rabbi Yehudah he did so a little too blindly. To understand why, we need to look back at our story. Right after we are introduced to Noah, we immediately see God openly telling him of His genocidal plan. He at once orders Noah to build an ark and tells him precisely how to do it. He commands him to take on board the precious cargo He specifies, giving him the most detailed instructions. God is clearly in charge, controlling every aspect of the project. Noah isn’t even the one to shut the door of the ark once the waters begin to rise; God does! We read, time and again, that “Noah did just as God had commanded him: that is what he did.” [Gen. 6:22] Even when he knows with certainty that the waters have receded and that it would be safe to leave the ark, Noah waits for God to order him out. Noah displays a total lack of initiative, and his silence his deafening. He quiescently obeys. And that is Rabbi Yehudah’s point; Moses and Samuel would never have remained silent in the face of God’s declaration of intentions. They would have stood up to God, challenged Him, and forcefully argued with Him to spare the lives of millions. What good does it do to reach the spiritual heights that Noah reached if it doesn’t infuse a way of being in the world that is fiercely compassionate, uncompromisingly loving and caring? Spirituality cannot exist in a vacuum, certainly not in our generation. It has to translate into concrete actions to benefit others, heal the planet, and support the stirring of a transformed dreamer, dreaming a different dream for our world.

Day of Awe Musings – September 22, 2015

Putting Our Name on The List

Day Nine

If these Days of Awe have revealed anything to me this year so far, it is — above all — that the work has to start with us. Doing the work of forgiveness is far from easy, far from comfortable; yet if we commit ourselves to healing, to living our lives with a more open heart — and manifest this commitment in such tangible ways — then I believe that we will inspire others who — by witnessing our actions — will be moved to do the same. This is where true Tikkun Olam awakens, where the Healing of our World is allowed to truly take place. When enough of us are able to shift the energies in our lives to be more loving, more inclusive, and more forgiving, we can’t help but watch these energies begin to ripple in the life of our communities and in our world. Our individual work is the most important work. It is, therefore, critical that we put our name on our list as well, and begin our journey by forgiving ourselves. This is your final assignment on this Day 9; to take the list from Day 4 and simply add your name there.

Tonight we are meeting again as a community to celebrate the holiest day in the Jewish year. And even though we have been hard at work preparing ourselves to meet this day through these “Days of Awe” musings, in the moment we step into the sanctuary we unavoidably realize how unprepared we truly are. I hope you do. I hope you come to this moment with some level of trepidations, knowing you are not ready, and with the Avinu Malkeinu prayer in your heart. The Avinu Malkeinu prayer is what we declare on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kipur, standing in the Presence of the One: “Avinu Malkeinu… Ein Banu Ma-asim,” “Holy One of Being…we have too few good deeds,” or, as I like to translate it: “Holy One of Being… we’ve got nothing!” We come to this day with nothing. We come to this day with the precious emptiness of who we are. We are not ready. And because we are not ready, we can step into the day open to receiving whatever it is we came to hear. We surrender into our not-readiness, we let go of our expectations, and make ourselves available to discover what is yearning to be revealed this Yom Kippur.

G’mar Chatimah Tovah, may your name be sealed for Good in the Book of Life.

Day of Awe Musings – September 21, 2015

Making Amends

Day Eight

Making amends is truly when the rubber meets the road. We have done all this work forgiving others, and now we have to go out there and repair the damage we have done. If we worked on our letter yesterday, and rehearsed our conversation, we might feel ready. Yet pride, fear and procrastination can stand in the way of healing. How will we be received? Is the person going to retaliate? Perhaps we are still pining for a certain outcome, or secretly hoping we can be absolved of our responsibilities? But like Nachman ben Aminadav of the famous midrash, we have to walk through our fears, let go of our expectations, and trust that the seas will part for us.

When it comes to making amends, like with many other things, timing is everything. We should not make amends if our doing so will cause more harm, and, when we do, we need to wait for the right opportunity to present itself. There are cases when making amends is impossible; we are unable to locate the person we have harmed, or that person is now deceased. In these cases, it is possible to have the conversation as a visualization; or, if we know where the person is buried, to go to the grave and read our letter to them. There is also a level of hurt, a level of damage that can never be repaired. If we have caused deep emotional, physical or psychological pain to another being, there might be nothing we can do or say that can heal the pain. But this doesn’t preclude us from taking responsibility and making amends by doing related community service for example. In contradistinction, there are cases where correcting the wrongs we have done can be accomplished immediately. If we stole, can we return what we have stolen or make financial reparations? If we broke a promise can we fulfill it now? If we slandered or affected someone’s reputation, can we publically make a declaration to set the record straight? If there is anything for which immediate repair can be made, we must not delay in taking action.

In the same way, we must seize the right opportunity to make amends when it presents itself. The context of the High Holy Days is such an opportunity. Amends need to be made in person, or, at least in a phone conversation, nothing else will do. Prepared to make amends to the person in your letter, you might want to send them an e-mail or let them know in person (if you meet them at synagogue for example,) that you would like to set up a meeting with them. Tell them why.
As you meet with that person, ask for their listening ear and–if you feel well rehearsed–share with them the words you have prepared. It is also perfectly acceptable to read them your letter instead. Whatever happens next, we are to remain an attentive, humble and authentic listener. The person might share with us their story, the pain they suffered that remained beyond our awareness, and all we are asked to do is bear witness to the suffering we have caused. Now they also might refuse to meet with us in the first place, and, they might reject our amends altogether. That’s OK. Remember that we need not harbor any expectations as to how our apologies may be received; our job is to offer them regardless. Our rabbis teach us that we are to make three humble and genuine attempts. If all three are rejected we are to consider ourselves clear of our duty.

Ultimately, we are to make amends to all the people on our list. Some conversations will be less difficult to have than others, and could take place within the next few months. Others might take us many years to even consider having. There may even be one that will remain beyond our reach in this lifetime. As the famous quote from Pirkei Avot–the Ethics of The Fathers–reminds us: “You are not required to complete all the work, but neither are you free to desist from it altogether.” [Avot 2:21]

Tomorrow, as we all ready ourselves to meet in Synagogue for Kol Nidrei in the evening, I will share some concluding thoughts for these “Days of Awemusings. And then we’ll have all day Wednesday to be together as a community, and support each other through the transformative experience that Yom Kippur can be.

G’mar Chatimah Tovah, may the Divine seal be for good

Day of Awe Musings – September 20, 2015

Preparing to Make Amends

Day Seven

On Day 5 of our “Days of AweMusings, we made a list of the people we have hurt. We selected one person from that list and went through a little writing exercise about our hurting this person. Today we prepare ourselves to make amends to this person. Before actually and personally making amends, we have to lay the groundwork for an optimal conversation. One of the ways to do this is to write out how we imagine the conversation taking place, including what we will say. I offer that we write the words we will be sharing as a letter. Here are a few guidelines for this exercise:

  1. Only write using the pronoun “I.” This is about sharing what happened from our perspective, what we did, and taking responsibility for what we did. This is not the place to tell the other person what we think they did wrong, or how we believe they contributed to what happened, even though we, too, might have been hurt in the process. This is solely about us and about the part we played; about accepting responsibility for what we have done. Forgiving them for their part was in Day 6 of our retreat.
  2. A good start for our conversation, our letter, would certainly include the words: “I am aware that I have hurt you.” Now, without retelling in your own words the story of what happened–the other person doesn’t need to be reminded of the pain you already caused them and relive it, and certainly not your version of it–write about your own hurtful behavior (i.e. admit the exact nature of what you did) and how you are aware it affected them. Then, write what you believe triggered for you this behavior (i.e. I was judgmental, I was controlling, I was jealous, I was afraid…etc,) which expressed in such hurtful ways.
  3. Conclude with “I am sorry,” and pledge to do your best and work on yourself not to repeat what you did again. Do not ask for their forgiveness. Whether they forgive us or not is their prerogative and none of our business; we are not doing this to achieve any preferred outcome, or with any kind of expectations.
  4. Admitting the harm we caused, being truly sorry, and willing to go to any lengths to change our behavior is as admirable as it is painful. But our rabbis are clear; this is only one part of the process. The other part is that we are to be willing to do anything in our power to repair the damage we have done. This means that, together with our apologies, we are to humbly ask the person we have hurt what they think would be an appropriate and reasonable action for us to take that would repair the damage we caused; and if appropriate and reasonable, to pledge to do so.

Take your time to write this letter and really prepare yourself for this healing conversation. Tomorrow we will talk about the “how to’s,” address the fears and other emotions that arise when we contemplate having such a discussion, and make suggestions about how to overcome them.

Day of Awe Musings – September 19, 2015

I Now Forgive

Day Six

On this Day 6 of our personal retreat, we come to a place where we might be ready to forgive. On Day 4 we brought to mind and wrote about a person who has mildly hurt or offended us. I invite you to have what you wrote in front of you for this exercise. As we begin, I would like to remind you that forgiving is not of the mind but of the heart. We cannot think our way to forgiveness, we can only open our heart to being forgiving.

Steps 2 and 3 of our Day 4 writings, were there to help us see for ourselves the difference between what happened (step 2) and the story we have about what happened (step 3). Just like we cannot change what happened, our aim is not to change the story we have constructed about what happened either. Some of us have created that story such a long time ago that it has become part of who we are; and those of us who have written two “then & now” stories under step 3, might have also realized that our story changes and evolves as we do anyways. Forgiving is about releasing the grip that this story has over us, the stranglehold it has over our heart; realizing that, though we have this story, we don’t have to remain bound to it forever. And why we keep ourselves bound to that story, stuck in our anger and our resentment, is because of step 4. The pain and suffering our own lack of forgiveness causes us, stems from our inability to let go of our need for the past to have been any different than it was; whether we look at the facts or at our own story about them. What you wrote in step 4 is what keeps you stuck and what needs to be released. How do we do that?

We let go of our need for the past–factual or storied–to have been any different than it was by becoming a little more humble. Step 5 of our Day 4 writings was there to help us begin this process by supporting our taking responsibility for our part in what happened. As long as we place 100% of the blame on the other, nothing will shift. But if we can see our part in the drama being just 1% even, then we have a chance; because this 1% represents our heart slightly opening. In time we might realize that the percentage is even greater, that it even is often 50/50. Whatever the case, we are to acknowledge that we, too, contributed to what happened.

The other part of our humbling ourselves is connected to yesterday’s exercise, when we wrote about those we have hurt. Because that’s what we all do, isn’t it? Sometimes we hurt, sometimes we get hurt. It is part of our human condition. You might not remember but it was part of the deal you signed before deciding to be born into this dualistic world. Dualism means conflict. We hurt each other not because anyone of us is inherently evil, but, paradoxically, because most of us want to be happy. We all run towards pleasant experiences, and we all run away from unpleasant ones. And because of all this (mostly unconscious) running we are bound to bump into each other and hurt each other.
Acknowledging our part in the drama, recognizing the universality of our human condition, we are humbled. Our past couldn’t have been any different than it was.

And so, perhaps, we are now ready to let our heart open, to let go, and forgive the person we wrote about. If we are, as in the Ribono Shel Olam prayer we simply say to ourselves: “I now forgive.” That’s it. Now you will know if you truly did forgive because the next time you tell the story about what happened, you won’t get activated, there will be no energy there. Your heart won’t race, your body won’t tense, you will remain calm and equanimous. And when that happens, you will know that you are ready to bring up the next name on your list fromDay 4.
As we practice forgiving, one name at a time, we might sense a shift in us where our heart remains open and we realize that forgiving is not–and never was–something we do, but something we are. And so when the next person comes around and hurts us, as we know it will unavoidably happen, we can step into that place with an already humble and forgiving heart.

Tomorrow we will turn back to working with the story about the person we have hurt, and begin a two step process around making amends. More fun than anyone should be allowed to have!
I am extremely grateful for your willingness to engage in this process and for continuing, dayafter day, to read and do the practices. Your presence is deeply inspiring!

Day of Awe Musings – September 18, 2015

Searching The Heart (II): A Practical Exercise

Day Five

Like I promised yesterday, we are trading places for this exercise and will now be looking at the people we have hurt. The first few steps of the process are similar to what we already did:

  1. Begin by making a short list of people you know you have hurt. Some in big ways some in more benign ways. Here too, there could be 3, 5 or up to 10 names on this list. See if you can rank them, putting at the top of the list the person you know you have hurt the most and the others in declining order.
  2. Take the person at the bottom of the list (whom you have hurt the least).
    Write out what happened as factually as possible (without layering your own story or your emotions over it). Remember to write this part like an “incident report” or like a reporter would.
  3. What was the reason(s) for your hurting that person? What emotion(s) did they bring up in you (i.e. anger, resentment, jealousy, guilt, etc)? Did you act from a place of fear? If you felt threatened, what felt threatened? Here, too, let yourself be as peevish and self-righteous as you need to be. No one else will ever read this but you.
    What aspect of what they did, or their way of being, brought up such hurtful reaction from you? What was your opinion of them at the time (i.e. arrogant, loud, obnoxious, dishonest, evil…etc)? Please consider that, perhaps, these qualifiers may be parts of yourself that you dislike or have disown, but that you, sometimes, act out as well.
  4. How did you benefit from acting in such hurtful ways? What did you gain by reacting this way? What was it about for you: feeling more powerful, asserting your authority, maintaining control?

Remember that this is not about beating yourself up. What happened happened. This is about being aware of, and taking responsibility for our behavior as a first step. Later we will work together on taking appropriate action for healing, and to make things whole again in our life.
Tomorrow we will talk about “Deciding to Forgive.” I invite you to read again what you wrote yesterday about one of the persons who hurt you. Are you ready to forgive him/her.

Day of Awe Musings – September 17, 2015

Searching The Heart: A Practical Exercise

Day Four

This is the time in our retreat when we get to practice. We can hear about forgiving, we can read about forgiving, but all the books and the talks in the world won’t help if, at some point, we don’t roll up our sleeves and get to work.

Now, your mind might come up with a million excuses to delay, postpone or refuse to do this work altogether. It might try to lure you into doing more “fun stuff” instead, or bring up that “to-do” list of all the things you “should” be doing rather than “wasting your time” with forgiveness. That’s normal. That’s what the mind does. Remember that the mind is afraid of change and will bring up a thousand thoughts to maintain the status quo. But here is the thing; you don’t have to believe in these thoughts. They are just thoughts. They come and go. And if you don’t get attached to them, they’ll soon be gone, replaced by other thoughts.

Here is a common meditation practice that might be useful: 1) acknowledge the thoughts as they arise, 2) thank them for their presence and for looking out for you, 3) tell them that you will do the work anyways, and 4) bid them farewell and let them go. All that in a calm and compassionate voice. Ultimately the mind will let go once you are busy doing the work.


  1. Begin by making a short list of people you hold anger, upset, grudges, resentments against, because they have hurt you. There could be 3, 5 or 10 names on this list, but no more. See if you can rank them, putting at the top of the list the person who has most hurt you and the rest in declining order.
  2. Take the person at the bottom of the list (who has hurt you the least). Write out what happened as factually as possible (without layering your own story or your emotions over it).
    Companies often ask you to fill an “incident report” when someone gets injured. Think about this part of the practice as filling an “incident report.” If it is not just one incident, you might think of yourself as a journalist reporting the facts of a story.
  3. Write why you were hurt, why you are angry/resentful/upset at that person. Describe your feelings and emotions freely and honestly. Let yourself be as whiny and peevish as you need to be for this part. No one else will ever read this anyways.
    If the event is far in the past, you might have to write about your hurt, feelings and emotions twice. First, imagining/reliving what happened in your mind at the time it happened, and writing about it in the voice of the person you were then. Then, doing it again from the perspective of the person you are today. Note the difference.
  4. What would you have wanted to be different? How would you have wanted the other to act differently? What should they have done/said instead? Describe your opinion of who/what that person is (i.e. arrogant, dishonest, selfish, evil…etc…)
  5. Assess honestly and with integrity what your part is in all this. What could you have said/done differently?

The point is not to fix what was. It was what it was. The point is to be aware; to be aware of the whole picture, of all sides at play; to see the facts from our fiction; for awareness itself heals.
Tomorrow we will repeat this exercise but switch roles and look at the people we, ourselves, have hurt.

Days of Awe Musings – September 16, 2015

What Does it Mean to Forgive? Why do we Resist it?

Day Three

Forgiving does not come easy to us. Let’s be honest, the ego is not one to easily give up the past hurts, affronts, painful incidents, and grudges it holds onto in its memory bank. All of these past experiences have impacted us greatly, taught us a great deal, and helped mold us into the person we are today. And so the ego is afraid, because it equates forgiving with erasing parts of the past that has made it who it is. But we can’t erase what was. Forgiving is not about forgetting or denying; making the past “go away.” Forgiving isn’t either about revising or putting a positive spin on the past. What happened happened. End of story.

But that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it? The story doesn’t end there. It is the stories we have created about our past hurts, the unexamined “truths” we have made up about the people in these stories, the anger, the resentment, and the upset, that we continue to carry around with us today; sometimes years later. Forgiving is about releasing these stories, letting go of our need for the past to have been any different than it was, the people in our past to have been any different than they were then or are now.

The other aspect of forgiveness is that the ego resists what it perceives as lack of justice. We see forgiving as whitewashing, as surrendering our rightful claim. By holding on to our anger, our resentment, our grudges we are still punishing the other for what they did. As the self-righteous “punisher” we seemingly have power. Relinquishing that power is scary to the ego who needs to feel protected and in control. But forgiving is not about letting the other off the hook. They did what they did. Forgiving is about letting ourselves off the hook. By holding on to that “punisher” stance, we keep ourselves hooked to that story. We are the ones still upset, who get activated, stressed, and sick to our stomach each time the memory comes around. They did something that hurt us then, but we have tortured ourselves so much more since. Now forgiving–letting go of our desire or power to punish the other–doesn’t necessarily mean that we will wish to be in relationship with that person again. Sometimes a complete separation is the healthiest and most appropriate response; but no particular outcome is dictated by forgiving.

So, this is my definition of forgiving; it is about getting to a place where we can say: “What happened happened. They did what they did. End of story.” And move on. We won’t get there overnight, but the journey itself, and coming all the way through to the other side of a forgiveness blockage is nothing short of liberating.

Tomorrow we will enter into the personal and more practical work of searching our heart. In preparation, I would encourage you to think about one or two people you may be ready to forgive this year. Start with the easy ones in your life, and build on your success.