Can you say the hardest word? An expat muses on ego and forgiveness

As a white ex-South African, now British citizen, whose teenage years coincided with the tumultuous times of the late 1980s, I have always felt a need to issue an apology. Though I came from a reasonably ‘liberal’ background and family (my sister was a highly politicised activist at WITS during this period), I have never doubted that I was a beneficiary, however inadvertently, of the evil Apartheid system. So the need to offer an apology, to say sorry – if only for having gained while others suffered – has always existed for me at some level.

But to whom? To whom do I offer my contrition; who do I request forgiveness of? Unsurprisingly, my apology to an entire generation of South Africa’s people never went anywhere, and remains unoffered almost a half-century later.

It is unreasonable to feel bad about this; to apologise to millions of people I do not know, and never will, is neither realistic nor meaningfully helpful. And yet, it is still a very difficult thing to say sorry when I must. I suspect that I am not alone in finding it challenging to offer a real, deeply sincere, genuinely heartfelt apology when the circumstances demand it of me. Simply put: sorry is very often the hardest word.

Some months ago, I hurt a friend of mine. I did not intend to cause him pain, but I did. I did not mean for him to experience anguish or suffering, but partly as a result of my words and actions, he did. For having done this, I am deeply sorry. And last week, I met with him, and told him just that.

Fortunately, my religion mandates the exact period of the year just passed – culminating in the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, Yom Kippur – as a time for saying sorry. This day is spent entirely dedicated to the spiritual process of genuine admission of error, expression of deep regret and earnest commitment not to repeat the mistake. If this process is truly sincere and heartfelt, we are promised exoneration in the eyes of God.

But there is one significant catch, applicable even to the most devout amongst us. Where the error involved another person, the beseeching of God’s forgiveness, no matter how fervent and sincere, doesn’t get the job done. Rather, you have to go directly to the person you have harmed and however difficult it may seem, ask them for their forgiveness.

Sitting across the table from my friend, I was finding it very hard to get yourself out of the way. I had to tell my ego to back off, to stop interfering. It wasn’t easy, but with what I believe was a little help from the spiritual forces at work at this time of the year, I got there in the end. After a difficult and very candid conversation, he did indeed forgive me and for that I am grateful.  But it got me to thinking why apologies like this are so hard to come by. Perhaps I can put it best by referring to a passage from my recently published book (I just couldn’t resist the quick plug):

[blockquote style=”1″]Ego, in my opinion, is one of the most misunderstood terms out there… But I am not thinking of ego as a good or a bad thing – it is not so binary in nature. We all have an ego – without it we’d likely be saints, prophets or clones of Angelina Jolie. The question is not whether or not you have an ego. The question is how dominant is it? Is it more or less under control most of the time, or is it ruling you? Is it framing the way you think; the key decisions you make; your way of showing up in the world? [/blockquote]

I believe that our egos, my ego, make it very hard to just turn up and say with utter sincerity: ‘I was wrong.  I’m sorry’. Admitting that to myself is pretty tough. Admitting that to God is not too easy either. But admitting that to another human being is surely the most difficult of all. For the greatest challenge is to render one’s own ego neutralised, to subordinate it to that of another. It requires the elusive combination of courage, conviction and humility to be able to express that to another person.

The good news is that Yom Kippur presented me with an irresistible opportunity to get my ego – that unrestrained self – properly out of the way (or at least banish it for a while). Gaining liberation from the clutches of my ego is a tantalising prospect; when you think about it, nothing could be more important in my ongoing battle to evolve and grow as the spiritual being that I aspire to be.

And as I inch ever closer to realising that aspiration, sorry no longer needs to be the hardest word.

To see more of Brian’s blogs and his newly published book, go to www.briankeithbooks.co.uk