<p>“Open the cage and let them out.” I was listening to a friend speak publically on the subject of forgiveness. It was her pastor who had introduced the metaphor of a cage to her. “How often have we felt hurt by the acts or words of other people?” my friend continued. It was almost as if her pastor was speaking to me now. <br /><br /></p>.<p>As she spoke of her experiences with friends and family, I found myself nodding my head. She could have been talking about me. I realised that I had locked up all my past hurts and the people who had caused them, in such a cage.<br /><br />I remember the first time an aunt had teased me over my burgeoning weight. I was 12 then. When we feel slighted by those close to us, it hits us harder than ever. Till then, I had thought that children, and not adults, were capable of being thoughtless and even cruel. Now, as a parent of grown children, I hadn’t realised how, over time, my cage had become stronger and bigger. Not once had I thought of opening it or, better yet, destroying the cage permanently. <br /><br />Growing up, I never developed a thick skin. Neither did I acquire the skill of a quick comeback or retort when someone took a potshot at me. This meant I acquired a slew of unpleasant memories of hurts and slights. Worse yet, I carried these with me for a long time neither losing them or achieving any sort of closure. Friends tried to help me overcome these with varied degrees of success such as the use of positive visualisation.<br /><br />“It was days, months, even years as my wounds festered and I held onto the memories while the world around me changed,” my friend continued. That’s when it dawned on me that in all probability the people who were locked in my cage had moved on with their lives. Like a small child holding onto her favourite toy, I had never let go of the past.<br /><br />It was my husband who helped me see things differently. He shared a passage from the writings of the spiritual guru Ram Dass, who spoke of how we look at trees and human beings with different yardsticks. We see trees of all kinds, of different shapes and sizes in the woods and accept and appreciate them as they are. But when it comes to humans, we begin to judge them thinking, “You’re too this, or I’m too this.” <br /><br />When my own children, now young adults, debate on whether forgiveness is as simple as one makes it out to be, I remind them of Martin Luther King’s quote: “Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude.” <br /><br /></p>
<p>“Open the cage and let them out.” I was listening to a friend speak publically on the subject of forgiveness. It was her pastor who had introduced the metaphor of a cage to her. “How often have we felt hurt by the acts or words of other people?” my friend continued. It was almost as if her pastor was speaking to me now. <br /><br /></p>.<p>As she spoke of her experiences with friends and family, I found myself nodding my head. She could have been talking about me. I realised that I had locked up all my past hurts and the people who had caused them, in such a cage.<br /><br />I remember the first time an aunt had teased me over my burgeoning weight. I was 12 then. When we feel slighted by those close to us, it hits us harder than ever. Till then, I had thought that children, and not adults, were capable of being thoughtless and even cruel. Now, as a parent of grown children, I hadn’t realised how, over time, my cage had become stronger and bigger. Not once had I thought of opening it or, better yet, destroying the cage permanently. <br /><br />Growing up, I never developed a thick skin. Neither did I acquire the skill of a quick comeback or retort when someone took a potshot at me. This meant I acquired a slew of unpleasant memories of hurts and slights. Worse yet, I carried these with me for a long time neither losing them or achieving any sort of closure. Friends tried to help me overcome these with varied degrees of success such as the use of positive visualisation.<br /><br />“It was days, months, even years as my wounds festered and I held onto the memories while the world around me changed,” my friend continued. That’s when it dawned on me that in all probability the people who were locked in my cage had moved on with their lives. Like a small child holding onto her favourite toy, I had never let go of the past.<br /><br />It was my husband who helped me see things differently. He shared a passage from the writings of the spiritual guru Ram Dass, who spoke of how we look at trees and human beings with different yardsticks. We see trees of all kinds, of different shapes and sizes in the woods and accept and appreciate them as they are. But when it comes to humans, we begin to judge them thinking, “You’re too this, or I’m too this.” <br /><br />When my own children, now young adults, debate on whether forgiveness is as simple as one makes it out to be, I remind them of Martin Luther King’s quote: “Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude.” <br /><br /></p>
