Ten Ways to Prepare to Forgive

1. Take a long walk. Notice your breathing.
2. Try to embrace your anger or hurt. Pretend it is a baby. Hold it in your arms, and ask it what it needs from you. Be a mommy or daddy to your baby emotion, crying out for your help.
3. Recall the incident(s) & the person(s) who need forgiving: how you felt, what you were wearing, what the weather was like, the location, exactly what was said, any other sensations, such as sounds, smells, sights.
4. While  describing what happened, use “I” messages, i.e., When they (the actor) did (action), I felt ________________.
5. Make sure you can find the  precise language for your feelings: Betrayed, ashamed, hurt, embarrassed, defeated, angry.
6. Take some time to see your enemy as a five-year-old child. Think of some words to describe them, such as innocent, tender, vulnerable.
7. Take some time to see yourself as a five-year-old child. Think of some words to describe yourself, such as sweet,

          untouched, shy or lively.
   8.    Separate the action from the actor.

   9.    List those traits, interests, etc., you have in common with your enemy. How do the two of you intersect?

   10. Honor your enemies; they are your teachers.

Try going to your journal and writing an entry about how you inter-are with one person for whom you hold a grudge. Try to see what you have in common. What do you admire about them? Write for 20 minutes, and then write down how you feel about what you have written. This is a step in plowing the ground for forgiveness. It was not until I saw the murderer in myself that I was able to forgive the young man who murdered three of my family in one night. This took five years of mindfulness practice, and seeing every day how I am not a separate self, that I am completely intertwined with all that is.

Jesus said it:  "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." So simple and so profound.

How can we make a place within ourselves for a warmer, more positive concept of forgiveness than ever before?

People gather tentatively. What is this book, with the word Murder so prominently displayed on its cover? Is this book the author's life or Thich Nhat Hanh's life story, or what? Some seem to walk in the room sideways, crab-wise. Others come straight and forthrightly to display their knowledge of forgiveness. But most come wonderingly, wanting to know if a piece that has been missing for them will be given -- by someone here, by something read or spoken. Sometimes this happens. People identify. They cry. They overlay their own stories on mine, and a strong and immediate connection is made. Some are shy. They run deep, but are not showing all their cards. They sit near the back, say nothing, absorb much. 

We sit together in silence, to begin. I give out my "fortune cookie fortunes," and people say they have received just what they needed to hear, almost invariably. I read for a short while. We talk. 

A reading and book-signing is a study in human nature. These are my readers. Who are they? Who do they think I am? We are all really nobodies, empty of a separate self. And in this wonderful hour or two, our lives intertwine physically, viscerally. She who wishes to forgive sees the possibility of letting go. And I receive the marvelous stories of all who wish to share them. We form a small Sangha, a spiritual community, and we inter-are.

Gentling the forest back at Cloud Cottage: Mother Earth loves us so much she wants to hug us into her green bosom. So we weed, cut, saw and otherwise encourage the forest to find its boundaries in our yard. The cutting is hard, because always we are cutting off a life. We struggle. Once I bought some weed killer, and began to use it on the innocent leaves of grass that found their way through our gravel drive. And I cried, watching the grasses die. I threw the weed killer away.

Don't mind pulling the grasses and recycling them to return another day as a flower or a veggie. This year, we have three grand compost bins -- one to feed, one to bake and one to sit quietly and wait. What a pleasure to cook our own earth from kitchen scraps and grasses and hay.

The same with people. We must not cut them down under any circumstances. We can re-root them, or re-cycle them. People don't mind feeding, baking or sitting quietly to wait. But please, God, let us not kill.

Dear Readers, If you read the book and like it, please place a five-star customer review on Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. It need not be a huge essay, just a few words from the heart. We're shooting for 30 reviews, and are halfway there on Amazon! Check them out. 

Join us on April 28 at 10-11 AM, for a flash meditation mob, or med-mob, on the quad at Mars Hill College Campus. Bring a blanket or chair. And if you wish to stay for the day of mindfulness that will follow, until 4 PM, at Redway, Tittman Hall, please bring a brown-bag lunch. Peace out. And send this to as many people as you dare...annoy them.  We want this to be big!

Was wonderful! We had planned for seven people, and seventeen people crowded into the tea-room. Kathy Marth ran for more chairs, and I ran into the house (that is, we mindfully proceeded) for more copies of the forgiveness packet we handed out. It was dynamic and beautiful, esp. the forgiveness ritual toward the end. The workshop will be held at Urban Dharma, and at Grateful Steps bookstore in Asheville, coming up. Stay posted to News & Events. 

I had a revelation about forgiving our son who died less than four  years ago, for something he did many more years ago than that. It helps to take a specific incident, and come as close to compassion for the other as possible. With Jesse, that was easy. I loved him so. Still, there is forgiving to do...