The science of forgiving

I left Sioux Falls four years ago not so much with my tail between my legs, but with my teeth bared and snapping at everyone. A friend and a boyfriend had made social life difficult for me, and the editor I'd been working under at the newspaper left for a better position. Life felt stagnant and black, like the water in the Big Sioux when it hadn't rained all summer. Chicago sounded like a good idea while I was taking a break from life, in Seattle, so Chicago became home. In the four years I lived in the Big Windy, I never got over my love for South Dakota and Sioux Falls, or the real friends I had made there; birthdays, weddings and a simple magnetism drew me back time and again.

Since I've been home in Nebraska, that longing and pull has gotten stronger, so last week I up and road tripped across the plains and made it back in town in time for two birthdays. Although the airwaves are about as lonesome as the country music that chokes them, NPR never fails to entertain and educate me; on Saturday, while passing the Wall Drug signs and deteriorating carcasses of animal after animal after animal, I listened to this amazing American Public Media story on the evolution of forgiveness. This is a story of revenge and forgiveness, a story that tells us how revenge and human emotion has evolved over the centuries, a story that tells us that we humans are "more instinctively equipped for forgiveness than we've perhaps given ourselves credit for."

I could write about how the components of this story-- an interview with the father of an Oklahoma City bombing victim, a scientific breakdown of revenge, a bit of thoughtful music-- made me feel, but I think listening to it yourself will be more meaningful for your own story.

I never sought revenge on my friend and my ex, because I wanted nothing to do with either of them any more, but instead of confronting the issue, it festered deep enough to force me away from a city and a landscape I loved.

I just got back to Nebraska from Sioux Falls, and even though I don't see either of those people any more, listening to this segment set me up for an afternoon of reflection on what was truly important to me as I went about my days in eastern South Dakota. I don't know how we ever muster up the courage to forgive and move on ( Michael McCullough, author of the book and papers this segment is based on) says that he'd like a new discourse on forgiveness to happen; a discourse that removes the softhearted wimpy connotations of forgiving to take place. Forgiveness is a strong, difficult, powerful thing to do, he says. We should respect it as such.