Forgiving Our Younger Self

When we are young, we receive guidance from parents, some terrific, some miserable, and much in the middle. None of our guardians is ideal, but they are the ones who point to what they believe is the best way. No college degree is required to take on the joy and effort, the teeth grinding and worry, smiles and embraces of an unpaid position lasting two decades, give or take.

It is a noble and essential profession if there ever was one.

As growing children, we engage with the world and find out about it and ourselves. We make mistakes, some of which suggest a different way forward. We recognize lessons and misunderstand or ignore others, but we have the time to make errors and revise our character, insight, and plans.

Youth is on our side.

Inevitably, as adults, we sometimes fall short. Nor do all the best early life decisions suit us as we age because we are different in a way we never predicted. That’s one of the tricky things about life. As Soren Kirkegaard said,

Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forward.

In Shakespeare’s As You Like It, Jaques tells us much in a few words:

All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts.

Many parts, indeed. Jaques follows with a description of seven periods of a long life.

After infancy comes the childhood of a schoolboy who would rather play than walk to school. When he grows and becomes a lover, he “sighs like a furnace.” Such is the wonder and complexity of young love.

His next role is soldier, followed by middle age and the inevitable decline of his body. The winter of the fellow’s existence closes the book.

Shakespeare’s description is intended, at least in part, to be amusing and ironic.

Many scholars have attempted to describe and name the various periods of our residency on the planet, though women were not always studied until recently.

Psychologist Daniel Levinson offered his own ideas about life’s stages at the end of the last century. One portion of his work focused on middle age, when gentlemen reconsider their commitments, sometimes making dramatic life changes.

Past their physical prime, some divorce, seek new careers, try to recapture their youth and virility, and hope to fill in the hollowness inside. They seek meaning in response to doubt over whether they chose the best path on a journey at least half over.

As you have doubtless concluded, this period may generate a midlife crisis.

Perhaps it should not be surprising that we change if given enough years. Our body produces new cells and disposes of others over seven to ten years. The life of neutrophil-type blood cells might last a couple of days, while some cells in our eyes are with us from the beginning to the end.

Regret is one of the problems of a life that can only be lived once. Many forks in the road confront us. When we choose one way to travel at a crossroads, the alternative often causes us to think we made a mistake.

Suppose I had gone the other direction, our internal voice asks us. This is because the alternative road, never having been visited, can live in our imagination as better, if not perfect.

Of course, in the real world, nothing is perfect. And yet, we do make complicated and poor choices along with those that exceed our expectations. Such is life.

What is our existence like with time’s problematic passage? Our once-ideal spouse might change and grow weary of us, or we alter and begin to value her less. Friendships are broken for what appear to be necessary reasons or because we fail to keep in contact.

Later, we may believe we should have done a better job at forgiveness or cementing the relationships we disposed of.

The globe alters as well, sometimes in ways beyond our imagination. Finding satisfying work involves endless learning about our profession, and career changes overtake us because of technological advances. Lifelong self-employed careers elude even MDs. Permanent employment by the same company is in shorter supply.

The planet can look like a meal of scrambled eggs, and we take the role of the eggs.

We need to be kind to ourselves. My career included professional contact with approximately 3000 people, evaluating patients on referral from other practitioners, and treating many of my own. I encountered no one who scored 100% at the game of life in or out of my office.

We are imperfect and prone to regret.

Learn, apologize, and forgive yourself.

Frank J. Peter, a thoughtful and provocative writer, recently posted a blog that included an important piece of wisdom offered by a man he met on a pilgrimage.

We look for answers in our lives, the better to inform our journey, but I think the wise man Frank met hit the bull’s eye when he said, “There are no answers, only choices.”

He called him Angel.

Learn, apologize, and forgive yourself. You were not and are not a prophet or prophetess.

Find love and love the least among us. Be kind. Take joy wherever you can find it. Be grateful for what life offers and pay it forward by repairing the world.

That is the best we can do. That is the best that can be done.

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The top photo is Forgiveness, the work of JamesInOregon. Next comes Forgiveness! by Carlos Latuff. Finally, Bruno created Human Redemption. All of these are sourced from Wikimedia Commons.

Who are You to Judge?

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/97/Gavel.png/500px-Gavel.png

Judgment is problematic. We need it, but not too much of it. Sort of like food.

While I will say more of a secular nature, the most famous comment on judgment comes from the New Testament — the Christian Bible — and is attributed to Jesus:

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

The point here is about the potential hypocrisy: for us to judge others by a standard that is harsher than the one that we apply to ourselves. It is akin to the famous late addition to the Christian Bible about Jesus turning away the men who were about to stone a woman who had committed adultery, with the comment “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” He later advises her to go and “sin no more.”

We judge lots of things. We need to judge the accused in the court room, lest wrong-doers do wrong with impunity. We judge ourselves and, one hopes that it improves our future behavior and helps us make good decisions.

We judge for self-protection, too; to comfort ourselves with the belief that the misfortune of others is due to their bad decision-making. By implication, if we make better decisions — display better judgment than they did — fate will be kinder to us. If we are careful, thoughtful, smart, do our homework, live by the Golden Rule, and so forth, good things will happen to us and we will avoid bad things.

This view seems to look at misfortune as some sort of anomaly, something that is outside of the normal course of events when, of course, it is not. All sorts of bad things happen to the innocent or unlucky. This is a troubling thought and our negative judgment of others — our attempt to make sense of their troubled lives or bad luck — makes it easier to sleep at night.

I’m not trying to justify all poor decisions here, many of which surely lead to disaster. Rather, it’s simply that not every bad thing is the result of some fatal flaw in the nature or conduct of a man or woman. Sometimes you can do everything right and have a bad result. Sometimes things just happen.

Judgment serves, too, as an attempt to guarantee immortality. Since most people see death as the worst possible outcome in any life, it shouldn’t be surprising that harsh judgment is often characteristic of religious fundamentalism. For the “by-the-book” parishioner, following all the rules of his or her particular religion guarantees a heavenly reward. And, for those who violate the doctrine, the faithful believe that there will usually be a trip to a darker place.

Judgment in this instance provides some comfort that death is not final; and perhaps the self-satisfaction of believing that in visiting judgment on the unfaithful, one is only trying to move them onto a path that will lead to heaven. For some of the religious fundamentalists I’m sure that it is; for others, however, it might only be a justification for venting angry condemnation of those who are different and who do not believe what the self-righteous might wish they did believe.

Judgment is often made by those who have no experience of the situation or circumstance in which the “judged” behavior occurred. To take a current example, consider Tiger Woods (or some other celebrity) reported to be unfaithful to his spouse. I am certainly not here to apologize for, or attempt to excuse Tiger Woods’ behavior. But I would say this: I suspect that non-celebrities have no idea of the temptation available to a man or woman in Woods’ position nearly every day of his life. And, as Oscar Wilde famously said, “I can resist anything but temptation.”

But, let us move away from the always controversial area of sex to give this idea a different look. I once asked the great Italian symphony conductor Carlo Maria Giulini about his judgment of the behavior of the German conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler. Furtwängler chose to stay in Germany during the period of the Third Reich, although he was not a Nazi. While he was helpful to some Jewish musicians, he also was used (and allowed himself to be used) as a propaganda tool by the Nazis.

Giulini , who began his career as an orchestral violist, had played under Furtwängler in Italy before the war. Moreover, during World War II, Giulini, never a fascist, had defected from the Italian army into which he had been conscripted and went into hiding for nine months, during which time he was a “wanted” man. But when I asked him about the controversy surrounding Furtwängler’s decision to stay in Germany and to allow himself to be a representative of a corrupt regime, Giulini was hesitant to judge:

It’s very, very difficult to judge the position of a man. It’s difficult for you in America to understand the problems we had in Europe. It’s difficult to put yourself in a position, in a special moment (in history), that is absolutely impossible to imagine if you didn’t live in that time. That last thing I should do is to express my opinion on this point. I had my personal political opinion, I took my position — very precise. I was not a fascist (laughs), and at the moment that I had to make a strong decision, I took it. But I am not in a position to do any criticism of another person.

We judge ourselves and others, to the extent that we do it, with the perfection of 20/20 vision that only comes in looking back, in hindsight, at what was done. We sometimes say “he should have known better than to” (make that business deal, marry that person, visit that neighborhood, smoke, drink — take your pick). Well, it is sometimes true. And, after all, I’m in the business of trying to help people to make better judgments. But mostly, that experience tells me that all people make mistakes and, assuming that they don’t mean to injure others, they mostly pay for those mistakes with their own blood, tears, and sweat.

As much as I recognize that judgment has its place, as a therapist, I try to meet people on their own terms, not coming from “on high” as a stern taskmaster or a fundamentalist-style religious figure “laying down the law.”

No, if you want that, you shouldn’t consult me. I am not here to condemn, although I don’t shy away from identifying right from wrong when it can be clearly seen.

Instead, I am here to help, to understand, to provide a bit of solace, to be a guide to a better way, if I can.

The gavel at the top of this essay is the work of Glentamara and sourced from Wikimedia Commons.

Unfaithful and Feeling Guilty: Now What?

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/56/Pashtun_Couple.jpg/256px-Pashtun_Couple.jpg

Infidelity happens. I’m not condoning it, but humans are known for mistakes, and this is simply another example of our fallibility. Still, what should you do if you have realized the error and broken off the affair? Assuming that your spouse or significant other doesn’t already know what happened, should you confess?

Let’s add two more conditions to the hypothetical situation that I’m describing: first, that you feel guilty; and second, that you have no intention of ever violating your partner’s trust again. Let us further assume that it is unlikely that your spouse will find out about the affair from someone else.

This, in other words, is one of those moments between you and your conscience. I’ve counseled people who felt so guilty that they believed they had no choice but to confess. I’ve also treated people who didn’t tell, believing that they would injure the spouse unnecessarily.

Sometimes these affairs are very old. I remember the first patient who reported a situation such as this to me. The infidelity had actually happened years before. It had gone on for a few months, then ended. The man had been faithful ever since and, it was clear, had every intention of being faithful from then until the end of time. But he felt terrible about what he had done and couldn’t shake the feeling despite the passage of time.

One consideration that such a person needs to take into account is that, for the spouse, the event is new when it is uncovered, even if it happened years ago. The wound happens at the moment of discovery or confession and doesn’t exist until that time (assuming that no STD has been communicated). But once the indiscretion is revealed, the emotions of anger and sadness are triggered, as is the sense of betrayal, and the lack of trust. Even if the infidelity is 100 years old, it typically feels to the injured party as if it happened today. And the long climb back to marital accord now begins, with no guarantee that the summit will be reached and good relations will be reestablished.

So, what if you don’t tell your spouse? Will your guilt last forever, undiminished? That depends on an enormous number of factors, including your religion (if any), your anxiety that your husband or wife will eventually find out (no matter how unlikely that might be in reality), your need for forgiveness/absolution, your ability to rationalize mistakes, your own capacity to forgive yourself, and so forth. If you need absolution and have a religious background, confessing to a priest, or fasting and prayer on the Jewish “Day of Atonement” might be helpful, depending on your particular faith. Therapists sometimes also serve the role of unofficial confessor.

If you were hoping that I would give you a clear answer, a “right” way to handle this situation, I undoubtedly have disappointed you. I frankly don’t think there is a right or wrong way in this type of case, at least not in the abstract. There are only ways that work better or worse; well, less well, or poorly; and it will depend not only on your own psychology, but the psychological makeup of your spouse. Thus, a solution that might be effective or useful for one couple, might be awful for another and lead to the end of the marriage.

Best, of course, not ever to be unfaithful. But, as I said at the start, these things do happen and, when they do, can have an overwhelming emotional wallop on all concerned. How you handle it shouldn’t be automatic. Much depends on your decision.

Choose wisely. As carpenters like to say, “Measure twice, cut once.” And know that the news will “cut.”

The above image is called Pashtun Couple by Arsalan Khan, sourced from Wikimedia Commons.