Positive Health Online

Let me share a breakthrough moment that changed my understanding of forgiveness. I was working with a client – let’s call her Lisa – who had spent years doing spiritual work to forgive her father. She’d read the books, attended workshops, and written letters (sent and unsent). By all accounts, she’d done everything “right” when it came to forgiveness.

Yet, there she was in my office, tears streaming down her face, feeling like a spiritual failure because certain memories still hurt. “I must be doing something wrong,” she said. “I’ve forgiven him. Why does it still hurt?”

That session revealed something profound about how many of us approach forgiveness. We’re often taught that forgiveness is primarily a mental exercise – a kind of spiritual arithmetic where understanding equals resolution. Intellectual insight is valuable; it helps us see that those who hurt us were often acting from their own wounds, and that most harm comes from unconscious patterns, not malice.

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Photo Credit: Image by Alexa from Pixabay

But in my experience with thousands of clients, the body often tells a different story than the mind. Even after extensive inner work, certain memories can still trigger physical tension or emotional charge. True forgiveness isn’t just about understanding with our minds-it’s about processing with our hearts and bodies, too. It’s a full-system update, not just a mental software patch.

Rather than asking, “Why is this happening again?” when old feelings resurface, we can view these moments as invitations to address unprocessed emotions from specific events. The emotional wound isn’t just in what happened, but in how we felt-and may still feel, even subconsciously-about those experiences.

It’s entirely possible, and often healthy, to hold both anger and love for someone at the same time. When we allow ourselves to feel the sensations we may have buried during cognitive forgiveness work, we discover these emotions are still alive, still shaping our thoughts, words, and actions. True forgiveness integrates both understanding and feeling – it requires the mind’s comprehension and the body’s emotional release.

When my car was stolen, I allowed myself to feel whatever arose: grief, fear, even anger. “How dare they?” my anger raged. “What if this happens again?” my fear whispered. Underneath it all, I just felt sad. I had to move through the fear and anger to reach that sadness.

Grieving is the body’s natural response to any loss. I’ve learned not to judge it, but to use it as a healing tool. Time and again, I’ve found that repressed grief is often at the root of blockages that create pain and illness. By letting grief move through me, I can find greater ease. On the other side of release is clarity, healing, and peace.

And, ultimately, true forgiveness.

Five days after my car was stolen, the victim services unit contacted me. They’d found my car-and the thief living inside it. Though it was gone only five days, it looked as if it had been lived in for years. It was filthy, there were signs of drug use, and I learned the person had a long history of robbery and addiction. She was being given another chance through a plea deal, and I was told I was entitled to restitution for my losses. The energy of cancel culture could have guided my next move…

Even though I was entitled to restitution-mainly towing fees, drug tests, and lost time – I paused to reflect. I remembered my favorite scene in Les Misérables, when the bishop forgives Jean Valjean for stealing silverware and offers him the candlesticks as well. That act of compassion transformed Valjean’s life, inspiring him to help others.

Through the lens of the Original Wounds framework, I recognized that the car thief’s actions likely stemmed from unhealed trauma – the same wounds we all carry, just manifesting differently. No one steals a car if they’re in a good place. No one turns to hard drugs unless they’re trying to escape deep pain. Condemnation would likely have made her situation worse, leading to more harm for her and others.

What felt most aligned for me was to decline restitution and support the efforts to provide her with housing, employment, counseling, and medication. I didn’t want to add to her trauma. I chose compassion, and my heart expanded.

I know this is a small example. There are much larger ones happening every day, though we rarely hear about them. Our collective attention is often fixed on division and retribution, rather than healing.

By healing what arose in me as a result of the theft, I was able to see more clearly what felt right. Emotional processing allowed me to move into a space of love and to embody true forgiveness.