Veteran's Day, personal battles and rewards of forgiveness

In observance of Veteran's Day this week, I posted the following on Facebook, along with a photo of these two special men: 

My two favorite veterans, Papa and my bro.

My two favorite vets! My grandfather served in WWII, crossing the European theater on foot and, among other things, helping discover the gold bullion the Nazis stashed away in salt mines. My favorite brother (editor's note: I only have one) is a veteran of both Iraq wars, having served first in the Navy then much longer in the Marines. So thankful they both came back. In fact, wouldn't be here typing away if Papa hadn't returned, and my brother has blessed our family with three beautiful little ones and the most wonderful sister-in-law anyone could wish for. Wishing a peaceful, gratitude-filled Veteran's Day to all.

The idea of embracing peace and gratitude in connection with Veteran's Day got me thinking about some of the costs of war -- material, metaphorical and spiritual.

Through another Facebook post by one of my mother's first cousins, I learned that my maternal great-grandmother lost her serviceman father in the Spanish American War, a piece of the family story I'd never heard before. I don't know what became of her mother, but apparently after her father's death, Granny -- as she was later known -- was raised primarily by an aunt and uncle. She went on to marry an Idaho farmer with whom she had nine children. Tragically, her husband, while walking down a road, was struck and killed by a car driven by a drunk man. At the time, she still had several children left at home to raise on her own.

Here are recollections the cousin shared about Granny:

They lived on a farm and grandma told me her hands were so calloused from hard work that she could slide the rope through her hands while getting water out of the well with no pain. She sure had quite a life. She had a lot of tragic (experiences), but I hope she had some good times, too. She sure was special and what a baker! And I do have to say, raising 9 children and having her husband killed, I never once heard her complain.

Whether caused by political wars external to ourselves or, perhaps more commonly, by personal battles we wage internally, nearly everyone faces at least one epic struggle in his or her lifetime. Often it's how we deal with such conflict that determines whether we are overwhelmed or manage to overcome. 

Such questions called to mind an interview I conducted in late 2001 with Fred Luskin, a Stanford professor who pioneered research into one of the most essential aspects of the human experience: forgiveness. Here's some of what I learned during our conversation.

Published Dec. 28, 2001 in the Oakland Tribune/ANG Newspapers

Forgiving is good for body and soul

By Monique Beeler

STAFF WRITER

Pioneering forgiveness researcher Frederic Luskin

sometimes sings a Rolling Stones verse to get a

point across to folks enrolled in his workshops.

``You can't always get what you want,

You can't always get what you want,

But if you try sometimes you just might find,

You get what you need ...''

Before he could start teaching such principles to

others, however, Luskin had to learn this lesson

himself.

``I had had great trouble learning to forgive, and I

was a licensed therapist at the time,'' says Luskin,

47, from his office at Stanford University one recent

rainy morning.

Dressed in running shoes and red and gray sweat

suit, Luskin takes a break from his busy schedule

lecturing, leading forgiveness workshops and

conducting studies on the subject to talk about his

first book, released earlier this week <cm released

Wednesday, Dec. 26, 2001>. Titled, ``Forgive For

Good: A Proven Prescription for Health and Happiness''

(HarperSanFrancisco, $24.95), the 220-page volume

is based on six years of research that indicates

significant improvements in health and well-being

come from letting go of past wounds.

Fred Luskin

``All suffering comes from
wanting the world to be
different than it is,'' says Luskin,
who heads the Stanford Forgiveness
Project, a program dedicated to
spreading his techniques and
continuing his research.
 ``Forgiveness is a way of dealing
 with not getting what you want.''

``It's dealing with the word, `no,''' he adds. ``Making peace

is the point.'' 

Using a mix of meditation, visualization techniques, a

bit of emotional re-education and innovative exercises

including a trip to the supermarket to appreciate all

the items one can afford to buy, Luskin has helped

disgruntled Web designers, wronged lovers and the

parents of children murdered in Northern Ireland to

reduce their feelings of hurt and anger, decrease

symptoms of stress and raise their sense of hope.

A one-time health food store owner and a former school

psychologist, Luskin began looking closely at forgiveness

research after enrolling in a doctoral program at Stanford

University in 1993.

He found a few earlier studies, but nothing that

medically proved forgiving is good for the body as well

as the soul. His personal difficulty in forgiving loved ones

whom he felt had treated him poorly, combined with a

lifelong interest in the connection between health and

spirituality, made forgiveness studies a perfect fit for

him, Luskin says.

He started by thinking hard about why he himself

couldn't forgive.

His thorniest personal grudge was linked to the loss

of his best friend, Sam. After years of close companionship,

including serving as best man in Luskin's wedding, his

pal fell in love.

Great news.

The problem was Sam's beloved didn't care much for

Luskin, and the close-knit friendship soon frayed.

``He met a woman and he stopped being our friend,

because she didn't like us,'' Luskin says. ``It was so abrupt.''

In the meantime, Luskin was struggling to resolve past

problems with a family member.

It was around this time he realized that his own

habits played  a role in his inability to forgive others.

``I expected others to behave the way I wanted them

to, not the way they wanted to,'' he says. He calls this

an ``Unenforceable Rule.''

People have all sorts of rules for how things should

be: It shouldn't rain today, there shouldn't be traffic on

this road, my mother should love me better. Luskin says

his insistence that others conform to his rules served

only to make him miserable.

``I'm getting nuts that they're being normal,'' he

says. ``(Sam's) entitled to find someone else to love,

and if she doesn't like me, that's the way it goes. I

developed a strategy for getting rid of those rules.''

Since changing the behavior of others is rarely an

option, Luskin concentrates in his book on helping people

change their own thoughts and patterns. 

He manages to do so in an easy-to-read manner made

more accessible by the use of personal anecdotes about

people who have participated in his workshops and studies.

``I tried to make it as if I was teaching it,'' he

says. ``It doesn't have to take forever. It can be done in a

relatively few hours.''

Although Luskin avoids burdening his readers with the

statistical results of his studies, he points out that forgiveness

is good for one's physical and mental health. Those who

have participated in his studies, for instance, report a 15

percent long-term reduction in anger and a 27 percent

decrease in stress symptoms from headaches to heart

disease.

Many people encounter trouble in surrendering

grievances because they confuse forgiveness with

condoning the offending act or reconciling with the

offender. Forgiveness is not about these things.

Forgiveness is about taking responsibility for how you

feel and acknowledging that the past can't be changed,

Luskin says. It's also about healing, not about those

who caused the hurt.

Several steps must happen before the forgiveness

process begins, he advises. These steps include:

knowing how you feel, understanding what was

wrong and telling a couple of trusted people

what happened.

Without first experiencing these steps, forgiveness is

premature.

Following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, people

started asking Luskin about forgiving the perpetrators.

The timing made the question inappropriate, he says.

``It's like asking a woman who has been raped the next

day: Are you ready to forgive? It's so insensitive and cruel,''

Luskin says. ``You have to really feel the pain, deal with

the damage, take care of yourself. You sometimes have

to punish people for hurting you.''

Hurt and anger have their place. It's when these

powerful feelings refuse to fade that actively learning

to forgive can help.

``This doesn't mean you give up protecting yourself,''

Luskin says. ``(But) you don't want your heart to be too

hard, because it doesn't do you any good.''

Cultural factors may make forgiveness a difficult

choice for some. In American culture, expressing

anger and resentment may be perceived as signs

of strength, while choosing forgiveness may be

viewed as a weakness.

The wisdom of letting go of grudges is evident in the

positive results it brings, Luskin says.

``Do you want more joy and happiness in your life, is

the basic question I ask,'' he says.

``This isn't rocket science,'' Luskin says. ``It seems

so obvious. It should be part of the water.''

Editor's 2014 note: Re-reading the interview with Fred Luskin was made more poignant by learning that five years after our interview, his 20-year-old daughter died as the result of an auto accident. I can only imagine how living through that tragedy may have tested his beliefs. My sense is that his family is strong and dealt with their loss directly in a way that encouraged and supported healing and resilience.