Two mentors told me recently that one of the most powerful things a person can do is to forgive.
When we were kids in school, as I recall, a big part of our Yom Kippur prep was asking our friends and teachers for mechila, and we were pretty frantic about doing it. As an adult, I think it can be a scary experience to face up to your failings and admit you were wrong. But granting sincere mechila can be harder. I think that might be my avodah this Yom Kippur. To sit with any knots of pain and resentment, however old and irrelevant, and tease the strands apart until they come undone.
Why are you making this so hard for me?
Why aren’t they helping me when they have the time, connections, know-how?
Why does he assume everyone’s life is as straightforward as his?
How can they take advantage of me like that?
Why didn’t you give me another chance?
Could they have been more careful, done more, tried harder? Perhaps, but it’s certainly none of my business. It’s theirs, and G-d’s.
When you have a quiet moment in shul, turn to your left. Then turn to your right. See all those people on either side of you? Every one of them is davening for something to change in 5779. Every single one.
Every person is fragile. Every person dreams. Every person feels shame, fear, pain.
And every person has a history. Every person has needs. Every person has limitations and weaknesses. Every person makes mistakes.
Every person is precious. No matter how flawed.
Try to visualize the person who hurt you as the baby she once was. Innocent and pure. Limited as we are all limited.
If we do the mighty thing and overlook other people’s imperfections, Hashem will do the same for us. And we will be cleansed, and forgiven, and free to move on.
Gmar chasima tova! Wishing you all a meaningful, easy fast.
