Compliments of Lancier via Pixabay

Two works of mercy set a person free: Forgive and you will be forgiven, and give and you will receive.
St. Augustine

When we are wronged our first inclination is to lash out, to seek vengeance, to level the scales, even the score. Our pride seeks retribution, whereas our practice of humility takes a backseat. Eviscerating people in the courtroom of our minds or icing them out by withholding interaction and avoiding them (or in the worst-case scenario gossiping and engaging in other variants of poor behavior) create division, a tear in the fabric of communion, a wormhole through which hatred, derision, and the refractive poison of destructive thought enter.

What we do not consider is the dangerous nature of grudge-making. Vendettas detract us from achieving our goals or from formulating new ones; they create havoc and turmoil. Choosing to feel wronged and letting those feelings fester is a sure-fire way to drain joy from our lives. Instead of contemplating friends as a bureaucrat or magistrate, we might instead think how to mend the rift and consider our part in creating the mess.

Did we provide sufficient information? Did we fail to communicate our wishes, assuming that other people can discern what we want through osmosis? Do we consider them our lackeys, instead of treating them with the respect they deserve through assessing where we stand, and how they perceive us? Talk is a verbal give and take, a dance where each partner shares the conversational stage. Expecting others to look inside our crystal ball creates misunderstandings and confusion.

Upon learning of the infraction, did we proceed on a fact-finding mission to get to the root of the problem? Or did we become incensed, concocting a litany of sins of the party in question? A vigilante party of one may seem powerful–but only in the sense that it falsely aggrandizes the accuser. Rushing to judgement puts us in the driver’s seat of jury, judge, and executioner.

Consider the times when we were wrong–and someone showed us mercy. How did it feel? What we give comes back to us tenfold. Taking the high road takes effort, but it is far more rewarding than staying mired in “me-ness” where we do not seek or accept feedback. Shrink wrapped, cellophane encased souls may be right but ultimately find themselves alone. Similarly, blasting people with a “tell off” may be little more than projection of our own accumulated failings and missteps.

Do we relish the feeling of being wronged where someone else is in the doghouse? Grinding someone’s nose in our ego leads to egg on our face, and to severed relationships with people who later avoid us. A moat of you did me wrong isolates us on an island of I’m right.

Another name for failure to forgive is self-focus.

I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice. Abraham Lincoln