The Most Human Emotion
Tumbling down the path of forgiveness to encounter empathy
By Marie Ronnander
In the past, the word “sorry” slipped from my tongue more often than a common coordinating conjunction. Apology was an underlying rhythm to each interaction, a fervent fear of unintentional insult that glued my attention to the habits of the other person. I held a belief that the world was on a constant prowl to unveil my inevitable social missteps, and upon that reckoning I would lose a cherished connection.
The lovely thing about growing into a person who dances on eggshells, is quietly listening to the currents of life around you. Questions lead to stories that unearth the human behind the words; the more a person reveals to you, the more you come to appreciate the journey that molded them. All mannerisms, the good and the bad, are laden with memories. Sometimes these memories echo through shared laughs and passionate stories, while other times, they choke us with regret, hostility, or frustration.
Believing in the power of individual history causes me to look for a reason to forgive each transgression. But then, there are times when life provides you with a gilded mirror, and the tables of circumstance turn. There are moments I find myself as the recipient of long-term hollow apologies that ignited rage. I’m pushed to the edge of spite; a calming place to dangle my feet. There are actions that justify abandonment, and I would have the power to release these relationships with a vindicated grace.
But the ash settling in my stomach hold longing. When I’ve been hurt, I hang on to the shining moments of reciprocated tenderness. I’ve been in places where they wrapped me with unconditionally protective arms, but it’s possible for the same arms to constrict my breathing and block my future. At the beckoning of an apology, I hold my breath, look into their humbled eyes, and I try to focus on the possibility of growth.
As I’ve swayed through life, this hyper-awareness has unfolded a deep respect for the growth that blossoms from forgiveness. Apology and the benefit of the doubt grabbed my hands and pulled me towards the belief that each person needs someone who clings to their words. Someone to provide a gentle acceptance of the tumbling mistakes that come with genuine connection. An awkward pause or somer-saulted word is now a shared humiliation of the mortal experience. To easily forgive and ease the shame of another person has allowed me to accept my daily anxieties.