Are you “The Forgiver?”

I remember the minute the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to crawl in a hole. I could literally see the light go out of my husbands eyes…

++ymw84WTu2ZBahTZCI_thumb_5afcTo forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you

-Lewis B. Smedes (Ethicist and Theologian)

The Forgiver

It seems I’m always asking for forgiveness

again, and again and again!

My request is almost always met with confusion.

And yet, I keep asking,

“Do you forgive me?”

Pleading…

“Do you forgive me?”

Begging…

“FORGIVE ME, FORGIVE ME, FORGIVE ME!!!”

Then one day I hear you say

“Do you forgive me?”

and clarity blooms.

For forgiveness is not about the

question, nor the answer, but about trusting the action.

Copyright 2019 PositivelyAnne.com

I remember the minute the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to crawl in a hole.  I could literally see the light go out of my husband’s eyes; those two brilliant green orbs that had welcomed me to the breakfast table just a few moments before, now blinked at me dull and hooded.   As we ate breakfast, my husband had made some forgettable joke about some HGTV show we always watched together.   I was nursing a cold and had awoke with a terrible headache and my initial reaction to his joke was not to go along with the fun or respond in kind as I usually would, but to bite his head off.  And when I say bite, I mean “CHOMP!” To be honest, my reaction caught me off guard as much as it did him. Damn that Nyquil is some scary stuff! When the heck did I turn into Godzilla? But my own disbelief aside, I knew what I had said.  I owned it. I was an adult.  I had to fix things, make it right. 

“I’m sorry honey, that was pretty crazy.”  I mumbled something about not feeling well and then with a question in my voice I said those four timeless words: 

“Do You Forgive Me?” 

At first he said jokingly, “No”…then seeing my crestfallen face, he broke out into a big smile, those green eyes twinkling and said, “What do you think?”

I said I honestly didn’t know.  I mean I thought I did, but I needed to hear the word. 

“Yes” he said and went back to his eggs and casual conversation.  All be it, any and all discussion of HGTV was unspokenly off the table lest Godzilla rear her ugly head again.  

Now after over thirty years of marriage I can attest to the fact that my husband and I pretty much read each other’s minds and finish each other’s sentences.   It is quite funny sometimes and actually catches us off guard at other times. 

“Oh my gosh, I was just going to tell you about that…you must have been reading my mind.”   “I can’t believe we both were thinking the same thing about that person!” “I just read that article and was sending it to you!”  Happens all the time with us.  We are simpatico.  Soul mates and instant best friends since our first date in 1984. 

So, it might surprise you to know that despite our deep connection and my sorrow at spoiling our beautiful morning with my Godzilla impression, I didn’t put a lot of stock in his simple one-word response of “Yes!”  I guess you could say I didn’t trust it. 

Which is odd because my husband is truly one of the good guys.  The most genuinely honest and decent person I have ever met.   So there is absolutely no excuse for questioning his forgiveness.  I mean this is a guy who makes his living working fourteen hour days as a contractor and yet at the end of the day, he still finds the energy to cook a wonderful gourmet meal for us and give a damn about my day.  This is the guy that got up early on his day off to make me fluffy eggs and oranges with sugared rims and I just bit his freakin head off.  I’m blessed, more than blessed. 

But something in me just wasn’t buying that I had done enough to earn his forgiveness. So again I told him I was sorry for my words.  His response was to say that it was o.k. and that he was going to clean up the breakfast dishes and go outside to do a little gardening. He truly seemed unaffected.   But not me.  No inside me, I was a bubbling caldron of guilt.   OMG, he’s washing the dishes after what I said to him! Why aren’t we rehashing all I said so I can really apologize?  Really earn his forgiveness.  

My head was throbbing now.  My tummy gurgling despite just having had breakfast.  I felt like I was going to throw up.    How the heck can he garden after what I said to him? Maybe he’s still mad at me and just needs to clear his head?  Yeah, that must be it.

I told him to go on outside to the garden while I finished up the dishes and I would join him when I was done. 

Working in our yard has always been one of those things my husband and I  enjoy doing together. Immersing our hands in the soil, pruning and sculpting our trees and bushes, coaxing fruit and veggies from seeds,  fussing and putzing till whatever troubles we have on our minds are long forgotten.   

Did he have me on his mind?  Was he angry at me?  Did he really forgive me? 

I found him in the garden shed getting his tools. 

Me: “Um, did you mean it when you said you forgive me?”

My Husband: “Yes!”  It was a casual, almost flippant response.

Me: “Well what kind of a “Yes” is that?”

My husband: “It’s a Yes kind of Yes!” A slightly irritated, but still pretty casual response.

Me: “Well are you sure?”

My Husband: “Yes!” His tone was definitely a little annoyed now.

Me: “Well, I think we should talk about it, because you still seem upset!”  I don’t remember if he walked past me or ran past me, but he definitely walked away.  He looked completely perplexed. 

But that did matter, I wanted to talk about it and talk about it I did … ALL AFTERNOON!  

I couldn’t seem to stop myself.  

While I babbled on about how I didn’t mean this when I said that or how I was cranky because I wasn’t feeling well, my husband stood in our yard carefully and methodically pruning our lemon tree.  

I didn’t catch a clue that he was over it.  Moved on.  That he knew I wasn’t feeling well and had given me a huge pass on my behavior the moment the words were out of my mouth that morning.  That he couldn’t even remember what he had said about the goofs on HGTV, let alone anything I had said.  

I wasn’t ready to accept the trust implicit in the words “I forgive” that he had given to me.  I was too consumed with blaming myself, with not forgiving myself. 

It was all so silly given the triviality of how the whole thing started.  But I was determined to get to the bottom of this whole forgiveness deal.  So I dug in and morphed into a self-appointed private investigator, invisible note pad at the ready, British accent, pipe in mouth, on a quest to dig and analyze and probe the sincerity of my husband’s forgiveness of my words. 

In my head I heard a little voice that sounded an awful lot like Benedict Cumberbatch. 

“Now sir, when you told your wife this morning that you forgave her, what was the context of that conversation?  Did you say “I forgive you” with clarity of thought, no malace or conjecture, or did you say it with just a hint of snark?”  

Huh? What the heck am I doing?  Why is Benedict Cumberbatch vocalizing in my head? 

I came back to reality long enough to look at my husband, still pruning the lemon tree, a look of peace and contentment on his face despite my Sherlockian attempts at interrogation.  Ah gardening….

Suddenly another voice popped into my head…but it was my own.  “Are you so caught up in the idea of forgiveness that you have forgotten what it actually means to forgive and the joy that comes from accepting the simplicity of the gift that it is? 

I had a feeling I knew what the answer would be. 

The word “forgiveness” is a noun, a label that categorizes all the steps, processes, things we do to rectify an offense.  It’s a label in which we strategize, question, ponder, mull, what it’s going to take to fix our misdeeds.  Sometimes when I talk about forgiveness, I convolute it’s meaning with all of the other things I want out of those two simple words, “I forgive.”  Yes, it’s admirable I want people not to hurt anymore.   But I tend to take it a step further and I want people to forget what I did, to immediately let go their anger, frustration at my actions and I want them to like me.   I become “The Forgiver!” and boy am I  demanding as hell of the humans I hurt.   I need proof I’m forgiven.  And I can’t provide that for my own misdeeds, so I go round and round in a circle complicating all that it means to forgive. 

Because the word “forgive” is an action, a verb.   It’s simple, uncomplicated, a little gem of a word, without caveat.   It is to be taken at face value as simply, “I stop”.  Now you can fill in the blank after I stop to anything you want.  “I stop feeling resentful or angry or frustrated or sad or hurt!”   It is one of those words where it means what it means and that is all there is to it.  And I might add that what it means is up to the individual and their timetable, but it has a heck of a lot to do with trust. 

Ah there’s the rub.  My husbands ability to forgive and the parameters he places on it are his and not mine to control or manipulate or worry about. His simple response of “Yes” when I asked if he forgave me, was absolutely the best and most appropriate response for him.

His “Yes” meant “Yes” and it was my job to trust in it, not to question it’s sincerity.  

To forgive is simply to stop and trust.   Trust in love, trust in kindness, trust in faith and hope and all of the things that help us to heal when we wake up cranky and spout nonsense. To trust in the goodness in each other.  To trust in the goodness in ourselves. 

Life can really can be that simple sometimes, if we humans stop complicating it.  

On a journey to live life more positively…come join me! 

PositivelyAnne

Please like and follow my weekly blog  here and  check me out on FB at PositivelyAnne or on Instagram at #positivelyanne for daily positive inspiration.    

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Not all lemons make lemonade

Maybe the birds weren’t too smart after all. I mean I wouldn’t build my house with a potential disaster looming overhead like that.

As you go about your daily life, you will encounter many lemons.  Sour expressions, sour attitudes, sour auras!  The good thing is that if you don’t want to be a lemon, you don’t have to be! Just don’t let those lemons rub themselves all over you! And you don’t even have to save them!  Just let lemons be lemons! -C.  Joybell C.

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photo: Morning Accomplishments by PositivelyAnne

As the morning sun was just peaking over the hill behind our house, I sat in my favorite chair, enjoying my first cup of coffee, when through the window I spotted a pair of doves who had begun the process of building a nest in our lemon tree.

The nest was being built in the apex of two branches towards the back of the tree.  These branches were covered with dark green leaves and laden with bright yellow citrus fruit.  One of the doves appeared to be in charge of gathering the twigs to make the nest and I watched it as it scoured the ground underneath a nearby pepper tree, where it would bring back to the waiting dove a single twig of the exact same size as all the others lining the nest.  The other dove would take that twig and maneuver it in place using their beak, head and breast.  One layer of twigs laid vertically and then another layer laid horizontally on top of that layer and then all layers compressed to form a sphere. 

I got up from my chair, face pressed against the window, and I marveled at the architectural, construction and engineering skills of these two birds.   I’m supposedly smarter than doves and yet, I can’t cut a piece of lumber without measuring and remeasuring and here each twig this bird gathered was somehow proportionate to the previous twig.  How could that be?   And that spherical shape…what’s up with that? I certainly couldn’t build anything spherical without…well, I can’t build anything spherical period!!! 

What really caused me to pause was the fact that the doves were building this amazing creation completely surrounded by dozens and dozens of really large lemons.  Some of the lemons appeared to be heavier, and larger, than their tiny bodies, and many of the lemons were hanging directly, ominously, over their handiwork.  All it would take is quick snap of a stem, a wayward fruit dropping and all that these two industrious creatures had worked so hard to create would be destroyed.   Yet, the doves seemed completely unphased by the lemons and just diligently went about the work they had set out to do.

Maybe the birds weren’t too smart after all.  I mean I wouldn’t build my house with a potential disaster looming overhead like that.

A thought crossed my mind:

“Not all lemons make lemonade.”

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photo:  Lemon Reflections by PositivelyAnne

Practicing positivity requires a certain level of “intentional awareness” of life’s lemons: the people, the places and the things, that bring one down and impact a person in a negative way.   A few years back, I made a list of the lemons in my life and it was a bit humbling to discover that even positive folks like me can get caught up in some pretty sour situations, with some pretty sour people.   

But being “aware” of life’s lemons is a totally different proposition then feeling compelled to try and make lemonade out of ALL OF THEM!

Is that even possible to do?  To make lemonade out of all of the people, places and things that bring us down.  Or were the doves onto something?  Is it possible to be your positive self, do your thing, surrounded, just as these doves are, by life’s lemons?

When I was a little girl, I remember being very sensitive to anyone in my life, be it family, friend or stranger, who had a sour disposition or approached life in a negative way.  Although I didn’t have much life experience, I had a keen awareness that there were some people in the world, who preferred to stay sour lemons.  The folks who had no interest in making lemonade and made it their mission to make life difficult for others.  I didn’t understand that.  I wasn’t wired that way.

Now this did not include the folks I knew with horrible childhoods or who were poor, suffering from depression, mental illness or addiction issues.  As complex as those issues were for a little girl to process, I somehow understood that there was a difference between being a victim of your circumstances and “consciously choosing” to be a lemon in life by permanently wallowing in anger, nastiness and hate.

As I got older, my concern for doing something about these individuals who checked off “lemon” as a lifestyle turned into a compulsion to where I felt I had to turn these lemons into lemonade any time I encountered one!  

And that meant lots of sleep lost and lots of disappointment for me. 

Life, in case you aren’t as attune to it as me, is sure full of a lot of lemons! 

Families! Friends! Communities! Workplaces! Schools! Churches! Grocery Stores! Banks! Airplanes! The list is endless…

LEMONS! LEMONS! LEMONS!

Literally, I’m drowning in lemons…a heavy, depressive pile of lemons!   What happened to positivity in this world?  What happened to light and hope and peace?  

Social Media is the worst of it.  The divide and conquer mentality, the focus on all things that tear us apart, all the things that don’t matter in the end.  I’m a cancer survivor so I know how futile it is to spend one precious moment of life focused on negativity.  It’s a big reason I started a positivity blog.  A happy place in cyber-space. 

“Why does the world have to be so focused on the lemons, when it could be focused on making the lemonade?”  

I remember one night recently, I unloaded on my husband (I owe him one!) my concern that the world was being taken over by negativity, a bunch of lemons with no interest in making lemonade.   He said something along the lines of “Maybe, but they are not stopping you from doing what you do best. Be your positive self, which everyone appreciates and it’s natural for you.  No matter what you do, there will always be some negative folks,” aka, some LEMONS!

I won’t tell you how I reacted.  It wasn’t pretty. My poor hubby. Gosh I do love him so for putting up with me.  I think I argued something to the effect that it was a cop out for me to just give those negative folks a pass without even trying to make lemonade.

But in the end, not looking forward to another sleepless night, I had to agree my hubby was right.   My way wasn’t working.  I was worn to a nub worrying about all of the lemons I couldn’t fix, when I was doing so much good with those who were open to positivity.   

And truth be told, not a one of the stubborn lemons I had come across, either in my past nor in my present, was permanently stopping me from doing anything I wanted to do, least of all creating a successful positivity blog, talking about positivity, BEING POSITIVE! 

It was me that was stopping me!  Me that was so focused on bringing all of the lemons over to my side that I lost sight of the fact that I didn’t have to do that.

“Not all lemons make lemonade.”

I finished my morning coffee and looked out at the lone dove, work complete, sitting quietly on her nest, trusting life in the face of all of those lemons above and below and all around it.   In fact, the more I looked at the bird nest, I began to notice the beauty in the lemons surrounding it.  Their brightness of color, their different shapes and weights.  Their importance in providing a cover and safety for the doves and at the same time a reminder of their vulnerability.

Maybe the doves are a little smarter than me after all.  We all encounter lemons in life.  Some will make lemonade sweeter than we’ve ever known, but many, and in some cases most, will only serve to remind us that we need to stay focused on our goals, on what makes us happy and positive.

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photo:  Lemon After Storm by PositivelyAnne

Sometimes, we just have to let the lemons be and build our nest the best way we know how.  One positive step at a time.

You, Me, Us. Together.

PositivelyAnne

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Practicing Intentional Kindness

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No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.  -Aesop

As I mentioned in my previous blog post, like so many of you ( or those you love), cancer figures prominently in my life story.  Specifically breast cancer,  but there were also a host of other medical issues that came about as a direct result of my cancer treatment (I will share some of that in later posts).  To sum it up, I became intimately acquainted with hospitals and medical professionals pretty quickly after finding that first lump and the next fifteen-month journey literally flipped my world on its head.  Now heading into my 2nd year post drama, looking back on that time, I consider it a gift.  For it was during those long months of struggle that I came to understand how important it is to live my life as positively as I can and to do that, I had to not only follow my doctors’ instructions for self-care, but I had to equip myself with a “Positivity Toolkit” to help me navigate my new world post cancer.  

One of the first tools I added to my “Positivity Toolkit” was to practice intentional kindness.

Prior to cancer, I would say it’s a pretty fair assessment that I felt pretty adept at being kind.  Kind with my family, kind with my friends, kind at work, kind at church, kind, kind, kind!  Yep, kindness was a natural part of my personality and I just never questioned it as being anything I needed to work on; let alone understand that the brand of kindness I was practicing wasn’t always leaving me feeling warm and fuzzy. 

In fact, looking back on my life pre-cancer, my brand of kindness actually caused me a whole lot of personal daily stress…maybe even downright misery. 

Didn’t my husband know I was just being “kind” when I said that?

My employee didn’t appreciate the raise I gave them…why do I bother being kind?

I do laundry all day and all I get for my kindness is more clothes on the floor?

 Yep, I was kind alright.   But the kind of “kind” I was practicing had a price to pay. 

I was fully expecting others to be kind back.

Well, isn’t that the way life is supposed to go?  I’m kind to you, you’re kind to me?  Seems logical right? And for over fifty years I lived my life with those expectations. Then during one of my hospital stays, I saw kindness modeled in an entirely different way (intentional kindness)by a graveyard shift nurse, and I began to understand the importance of making a change in my practiced brand of kindness.    Let me explain.

Hospitals are scary places, period!  I spent enough time in them over the past couple of years to feel pretty comfortable saying that no one goes to the hospital (except for hospital employees and volunteers) with the intent of doing anything other than getting the hell out of there as quickly as possible!  My observation is that in our vulnerability, as patients who have no choice but to lie prostrate, in a hospital bed, beholden to the wims of our disease and our bodies response to the remedy, many patients feel it’s also their inalienable right to morph into Satan and unleash every obnoxious, miserable and all around crabby thing that could ever be said to anybody on the nursing staff. 

Well nurses are trained caregivers, right?    It’s their job to take care of us in all of our crab- fueled glory.  It’s what they are paid to do!!!  That being said, it was shocking to me how many people in the waiting areas, in the ER, in the bed next to mine, in the hospital rooms lining floor after floor after floor, would treat the nurses as if they were the person responsible for them being in the hospital in the first place. 

  “Get me my water!”  “I don’t want to do what you are telling me!”  “You fix me right now or I’ll do something to you!” “Who made this pudding sh**, you?”  “Our family hates you!!!” 

I heard all of these things and much more coming from my fellow patients and even some of their family members.  Now you might be thinking , well people are hurting, a bit of nastiness is to be expected.   Maybe.  But what I saw and heard was this systemic spewing of “negativity”  that knew no bounds.  Nothing was off limits for people to say to their fellow human being, let alone their caregiver.   It made me feel sad and ashamed.

 “Had I ever said anything that nasty to someone trying to be kind to me?”

One particularly late night, I was attempting to sleep after back to back emergency surgeries and I could hear this man verbally tearing into a nurse down the hall.  

“You get your damn behind out of my room, you witch.”  “I do not want you near me!” In response I heard a very calm voice say, “Oh I’m so sorry you are hurting there sweetie..I know it’s hard.  Get some rest and I’ll check on you in a bit.”   Then I heard something crash…maybe a chair…I don’t know.  But it was scary.   I hunkered down in my bed and pulling the covers over my head a million things ran through my mind, but the biggest was: Why would anyone in their right mind become a nurse?  She was just trying to be kind.  She was just doing her freakin job! 

Just then the door to my hospital room opened and this nurse walked in, her face lined with the years and I had no doubt it was the same nurse who the man was yelling at.  I peered skeptically out at her from the safety of the covers over my head.

“Hey there sweetie”, she said very softly. ” I’m sorry.  I’m sorry he’s so loud.  He’s upset and hurting and well, I’m sorry.  How are you doing my dear?”

 “Huh, sorry?”  “YOU ARE SORRY, WHY? (I think I was actually yelling at her)  That guy treated you so poorly, you were just being kind to him and he treated you like crap…you deserve better!” 

Taking my hand, in her careworn one, the nurse sat on the edge of my bed and said something that would change my life.  She said, “Yes, I do deserve better.  But I learned a long time ago that kindness is not what you get, it’s what you give.” 

And there, there in that hospital room, with a crazy guy screaming down the hall, was my introduction to practicing intentional kindness.   Plop…right there in my lap! 

To practice intentional kindness is to give kindness freely and openly, without attaching conditions or expectations that it will be returned.    Powerful stuff!!!

Wow, it’s hard to do.  It really is.  I stumble often.  But the more I practice intentional kindness, I find that kindness is not something I need others to see in me, but something that is living and breathing in my own mirror.  I no longer wear a “kindness” façade with expectations and objectives that no one can live up to.   I am kind because it pleases me! 

So this week, I encourage you to take a look at your own kindness meter and practice intentional kindness with me. 

Together we can do this, one positive step at a time!  PositivelyAnne

If you like my site, please click like so that it moves up the blog foodchain and others can find me.  I figure the more positive souls out there the better, right?!!!  Also, feel free to share briefly your thoughts on kindness and how it’s impacted your life.

All photos and images are my own, except where noted.

With what lens do you view life?

Positivity not Negativity equals a blessed life!

Life is 10% what happens to us and 90% how we react to it.

Dennis P. Kimbro

I have always been about “a good story”, having had a passion for the written word, in all its forms, since the 2nd grade when my teacher handed me an empty book cover and told me to fill it with words.   But despite my desk bulging with folders brimming with tales of adventure and passion, my own personal writing has mostly been a private journey until now.

After I was diagnosed with breast cancer and the treatment left me temporarily unable to sit at a computer for any length of time, I grabbed my camera (nothing fancy, just my iPhone) and started taking pictures.  Through the lens, I could see so many things that literally made me smile.   The inner sanctum of a flower, a tree branch reaching towards the heavens, a solitary cloud wafting across an azure blue sky.   I felt happy, free, filled with positivity looking at these images.   Suddenly words and images merged together in my mind and I began to think:

“What if, the lens by which I choose to view my life and the way I choose to approach each and every day could have a positive impact not only on my own health and well-being, but potentially on the happiness of everyone I come in contact with.”

That’s where the idea of sharing my writing and photography to inspire others to choose to live life positively comes into play and what my blog, PositivelyAnne, is all about.  Each week, I plan to share with my readers a photo I have taken, captioned with my own message of positivity, along with one of my favorite positivity quotes and my reflections on life.

Trust me, the journey to viewing life more positively won’t be an easy one  Like myself, so many struggle with depression, health issues, personal life challenges and at times, it’s almost impossible to see through the filter of negativity these struggles bring to our daily lives.   But I want you to try with me.   Start small…one positive thing in your day.  Maybe it will be my blog page!  But do not stop searching for it.  

Together we can do this, one positive step at a time! PositivelyAnne

If you like my site, please click like so that it moves up the blog foodchain and others can find me.  I figure the more positive souls out there the better, right?!!!  Also, feel free to share briefly your thoughts on positivity and how it’s impacted your life.  

All photos and images are my own, except where noted.