Forgiveness is foundational. Resentments fester, breed and cause no end of trouble inside me, in relationships, communities, the world. When we ruminate on wrongs done us (real, or perceived through the lense of past hurts), we are not fully present in our lives. When we are not fully present in our lives, we do not have our lives. We are not fully operational.

Not having my life makes me the walking dead.

And that is no way to live.

Forgiveness is an incredible act of courage, says  Reverend Mpho Tuto, author with her father, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, of the new book, The Book of Forgiving: The Fourfold Path for Healing Ourselves and Our World. 

Three words, “I am sorry.” Very difficult, she says eloquently in this Huffington Post video interview.  

Absolutely necessary. Vital. Primal. Liberating.

Healing. That’s what it’s about.

I remember the following thoughts, particularly when I’m feeling balky, pissed and vengeful. I’m going feel these things. I’m human. But I can choose a better way.

• Forgiving isn’t forgetting. It’s remembering and letting go. I become strong at the broken places when I forgive.
• Serious self-care is required as part of self-forgiveness. I cannot draw water from an empty well. Quiet time. Healthy food. Gentle activity. Creativity and self-expression. Nature. Massage. Loving connection with others and my higher power. Play.
• Using a mantra or inner chant prevents my wild mind from poking at old wounds. Try: I forgive myself for hurting myself. I forgive others for hurting me. I forgive myself for hurting others.
• Staying away from blaming others keeps me safe from future resentments.
• Lowering expectations also prevents resentments. An expectation is a planned resentment.
• Slowing down keeps me less stressed. When I’m less stressed, I’m kinder, more centered, more forgiving.
• I only have to do this for this day. This moment.

And to really live what I believe, I’m joining the Tutus in their Global Forgiveness Challenge. I have no idea what I’ll be asked to do, but I have confidence that the gentleman who guided South Africa to start its healing can help the rest of us. Sign up at http://forgivenesschallenge.com/  See you there!

I’m so excited to announce the publication of my self-help book based on my recovery from food addiction, which includes a 100-pound weight loss. I’ve boiled the experience down into digestible (!) bits for everyone to use.

When I started my journey of recovery, I had no idea  it would take me on a deeply spiritual path and give me the joy of working with others who struggle with binge-eating and being hijacked again and again by sweet, fatty, salty, wheaty, over-processed foods.

Available from Amazon. bitly.com/1gg7mId See what you think, and stay connected for upcoming workshops, groups and talks.

Who is the God of your misunderstanding? That’s the question for today. But first: Let’s not get stuck on the God word, okay? I mean the higher power you turn to, whether Howard—as in, “…Howard be thy name,” as Ann Lamott suggests, or Harvey, as my friend Marlyn assserts, or My Adoring All as another friend says. Just anyone who’s not our own little ego and will.

Yesterday I was talking to a friend I’ll call Joanne and she told me how she’d moved off the cruel and punishing God of her upbringing (that included a teacher nun who swung a big hard text book into side of Joanne’s head so hard that it broke her ear drum). She told the story of how she moved from trying to work with a God who thought she deserved that treatment, who would think her sinful and evil at 7 years old, into the powerful, loving God she knows today, the one who helps, guides and heals her in all areas of her life.

It was at a retreat, she said. The leader asked everyone to think of all the higher powers they’d had in their lives—parents, teachers, coaches, doctors, dentists, older siblings and the like. Together, they made a list.

Next, the group made a list of the negative qualities of those higher powers. I wasn’t at the retreat, so I did my own list: hypercritical; negative; controlling; intrusive; relentless; cruel; unsympathetic; wildly impatient; opaque; uncommunicative; explosive; violent.

Those were the qualities my poor little psyche learned to attribute to all higher powers, including the one who created me, who is supposed to guide my life and heal my wounds. No wonder I have been on constant conflict with this HP!

Then, the retreat leader, says Joanne, held up his hand in a stop-traffic gesture and said, “Fire that God of your misunderstanding!”

And, he suggested, create a new, loving one of your choosing. Mine has these attributes: always available; unconditionally loving; totally kind; totally strong; not one little bit cruel; totally patient; pure love; excellent, kind teacher; always respectful; wiser than I know; beautiful beyond measure.

Well, I sure can work with that.

How about you? What are the qualities you require in a higher power? (Go ahead! Make a list! Do it right here and now if you want!)

Will you dare to claim them? Let’s do it together, shall we?

Hug myself? Chant “I love you, Gay” over and over, out loud? Ewwww!

That was my first reaction many years ago when I was told I needed to love myself.

Now I’m understanding that whatever I do and whoever I am starts with self-care. Not the icky, self-centered, it’s-all-about-me stuff. Rather, the kind that says, as Max Ehrmann does in Desiderata, “I am a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the starts, and I have a right to be here.” The kind that says I am to be maintained, if not like a princess, then like a worthy human with a lot of normal human needs.

So here’s my list of whats to love yourself, particularly in this season of high expectation and excess.

1. Eat healthy. Some of us can splurge on food and drink and reel ourselves in the next day and some of us can’t (I can’t). Know who you are and live that truth. If a bite of a means a flat-out binge, don’t pick up that first cookie. Hurts when you do that? Don’t do that. Easy to say, harder to do. But totally worthwhile, to be a little uncomfortable for a few seconds instead of miserable for hours or days.

2. Move the bod. Stretch. Walk. Go to the gym. Stop thinking of exercise as torture, which I did for many years. I may not like the movement, but I adore the de-stressing, stamina-building, health-sustaining results of getting out of my head and into the rest of me.

3. Keep order. Clutter around me creates clutter in my mind. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I just know that a certain amount of clarity in my home helps me feel calm. (Just so you know, I am really, really bad at this. I just do the best I can.)

4. Pamper the bod. Get a haircut. Use nice lotions liberally. Brush your hair because it feels good, not because you’re rushing out the door and don’t want to scare people. Get a massage. Seriously. A massage isn’t a luxury. It’s smart health care. A great investment in your sanity, productivity and joy.

5. Talk nicely to yourself. Replace the mean, what-did-you-do-now inner monologue with sweet words you’d say to a tiny tot wailing cuz she just skinned her knee. As in, “Yes, it’s sad that you burned dinner. But it’s okay. You’re not in trouble. You are loving and lovable just the same.”

6. Connect to others. Healthy people. Supportive people. Non-toxic people. Call, write, text. Ask how they are. Tell them how you are. Say what you need. Get no for an answer, ask someone else. Help others, but only as your inner guide instructs.

7. Take quiet time every day. Prayer and meditation are the foundation for how a calm mind and soothed spirit. They also empower me to be my best self.

It’s a miracle to me that my father-in-law, Irving (Ed) Edelman, whom I never met, could paint such a lovely picture. How’d he do that?

I was angry again, at God. I don’t understand suffering. I really don’t. The Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh shocked me recently by saying he’s grateful for life’s pain because it creates compassion.

I do know that a broken heart is an open heart. And an open heart is a caring heart. And a caring heart creates connection and all kinds of growth and healing, seen and unseen.

And I do understand that railing at God about suffering isn’t particularly useful, though it does seem to be common, if you take a look at spiritual memoirs, and/or, bring up the topic with friends.

I do not believe God gives us suffering to teach us. That is just too mean. I do believe suffering comes when people use their free will to move away from God’s grace. I do know that God helps us learn from whatever happens to us, whether from other people’s mistakes and evils, or the mysterious vagaries of weather, chance, happenstance, and freaky inexplicable stuff like hurricanes, car accidents and cancer.

My friend Lori says her preferred method of compassion creation is unconditional love. This I could deal with.

Do you suppose that if we increased the unconditional love in our lives and in the world, there’s be less suffering?

Well, there you go.

A new friend this week, hearing me fuss about the pain and suffering thing—which includes pissiness about how this happily ever after thing wasn’t quite working out the way I expected—made this suggestion: Don’t ask God why. Ask how.

Okay, okay. I surrender. (Again.) I give up. (Again.) As it says in the book Alcoholics Anonymous, acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. Any time I am disturbed is because I am finding something unacceptable, and I can find no peace until I accept things as they are.

My assignment, and I’m choosing to accept it: I’m looking for the hows. How to increase the peace. How miracles are being made all around me. How I’m better off tapping into the sources of love than focusing on what’s not feeling so good or doesn’t make sense. Most of all, how to receive and express the love that exists in me and in you, always solid as a rock, light as air, bright as a candle flame, fluid and flowing like water.

Amen.