Have you ever noticed how, when you need to learn a lesson about something, that point will be driven home time and time again, until you fucking get it?

Yes, yes I see you have.

Whether you believe that cosmic 2×4 is delivered by “God” or “The Universe” or “The Great Cosmic Dustbunny in the Sky,” is really irrelevant. When we have a life lesson to learn, we’ll get hints, reminders,  outright lectures, or one painful experience after another until we have learned it.

Such is what has happened to me, recently.

A couple of days ago, I experienced an incident at work. One of my co-workers, a lady I relieve from the 11-7 shift, literally - tried to set me up to take a fall. It was nothing serious, but without saying anything to me about it, she brought it to the attention of out boss, who pretty much reemed me a new asshole for it. Why did she do this? I have no idea. She’s a new nurse, working nights, and I’ve never had issue with her before. The only thing I could figure out is she wanted me to get pissed so I’d quit and she could slide into a nice day position.

I was able to prove later, without a shadow of a doubt - that she was completely wrong in her accusations, and that should have been the end of that. But it wasn’t. What did I do instead?

I sulked like a chastised child. The whole incident ruined my day. I was full of - as we say in the South - piss and spit, I was so upset. Who the hell was she, to try and set me up? What the fuck was wrong with my boss, to believe such nonsense, when she knew me better? Oh, I was livid.  And if I didn’t know what kind of stress my boss was under with corporate in the building, I probably would have marched right out of there and started collecting applications for a new job.

Normally, I am a pretty easy going person, and I let things like this slide off me pretty quick. But - I am a redhead, and I am partly Irish. I was taught - the only things worth fighting for, are land and clan. When someone starts insinuating I’m not doing my job, I take it as a full frontal attack and I go into full screaming battle-ready banshee mode. My job is what supports my clan, after all. God help you if you dare attack my child; there wouldn’t be nothing left of ya. Mother bears have ME as a totem.

The only possible redeeming quality I could find in the whole situation was this: Ok, so she’s tipped her hand to let me see just what kind of person she is, and how I need to be around her. In other words, someone not to be trusted, someone to watch you back around; my enemy.

And I started plotting. Not to get rid of her, just move her off to another station. Let someone else deal with her backstabbing; I didn’t want to have anything to do with her. Oh I’d be polite to her face, but always with my back up against the wall.

A fellow co-worker, one who had worked with her many years when The Enemy had been a CNA, before she became a nurse - kept saying to me, you know she’s really not like that. She’s just a new nurse. She hasn’t learned yet that you’re supposed to take it to your co-workers before you go to your boss. You need to teach her better. But I wouldn’t hear anything of it. I was too much enamored with the idea of being mad, hurt, transgressed against.

They say Ireland is the only country to have converted to Christianity, without bloodshed. There are many theories as to why this was the case, including old standing beliefs in  triune divine gods anyway, similarities between Angus and Jesus, etc etc. But I have my own theory, and that is the Irish just got tired of killing each other. Pagan Ireland was a brutal place. The clans were always fighting, people would get killed over the stupidest things like hurley matches, and after awhile, they just got sick of it. Here comes St. Patrick et all, with talk of peace, and they latched onto the idea of hey - we don’t have to kill each other indiscriminately, anymore! woohoo! We can concentrate on more important things like, developing the best beer in the WORLD!

Besides, they were running out of niches to place the severed heads they collected. One can only have so many skulls in the parlor without it being tacky, doncha know.

Nevertheless - fighting’s in our blood. We’d fight just for funsies, if given half a chance, and my co-worker had given me more than half a chance. To not fight, would take a pretty good whack of the cosmic 2×4 to get my attention.

Welllll that 2×4 came, that night, in the form of a homily on the daily mass which was shown on EWTN.

Oh yeah…. that whole bit about forgiving our trespasses, as we forgive others who trespass against us.

Fuck. I forgot about that.

I had a Jewish guy tell me once, that jews consider it a sin, not to forgive someone. Not so much because of the harm you do them (even though that is substantial; if you’ve ever wronged someone, and not been forgiven for it, you’d understand) - but because of the wrong you do yourself when you don’t forgive them. That bile you save and refuse to let go of, eats at your insides and makes you vile.  It’s literally - spiritual poison.

But how do you let go of that anger, that hurt, how do you forgive when you really don’t want to?

Forgiveness really is, a divine attribute. It’s not a human one. The only way I can see how, is to pray for it. Pray for the ability to forgive.

Ask, and you will be given. Ask, and you will be forgiven.

Forgiveness is the antidote to the poisonous bile that builds up. We ourselves need that healing, as does the person who has done the wrong. We need that grace from God in order to be able to let go, forgive, and move on with our lives.

We have to forgive others, in order to be forgiven ourselves. Because really, it’s one and the same.