Endigar 1064
From Courage to Change of Oct 15:
The most loving form of detachment I have found has been forgiveness. Instead of thinking of it as an eraser to wipe another’s slate clean or a gavel that I pound to pronounce someone “not guilty,” I think of forgiveness as a scissors. I use it to cut the strings of resentment that bind me to a problem or a past hurt. By releasing resentment, I set myself free.
When I am consumed with negativity over another person’s behavior, I have lost my focus. I needn’t tolerate what I consider unacceptable, but wallowing in negativity will not alter the situation. If there is action to take, I am free to take it. Where I am powerless to change the situation, I will turn it over to my Higher Power. By truly letting go, I detach and forgive.
When my thoughts are full of bitterness, fear, self-pity, and dreams of revenge, there is little room for love or for the quiet voice of guidance within me. I am willing to love myself enough to admit that resentments hold me back, and then I can let them go.
Today’s Reminder
Every time I try to tighten the noose of resentment around someone’s neck, I am really only choking myself. Today I will practice forgiveness instead.
“A part of me wants to cling to old resentments, but I know that the more I forgive, the better my life works.” ~ In All Our Affairs
END OF QUOTE—————————————
There is wisdom in reimagining forgiveness as scissors rather than an eraser or a gavel. The eraser implies denial; the gavel implies judgment. But the scissors — ah, the scissors liberate. They sever the invisible cords of resentment that tether the heart to its wound. In recovery, this image carries sacred practicality: forgiveness is not endorsement of harm, but release from captivity. We are not freeing the offender; we are untangling ourselves from their shadow.
Resentment masquerades as power — the illusion that if I hold the memory tight enough, I maintain control. Yet in truth, resentment reverses the flow of energy inward, strangling joy and suffocating serenity. Detachment is not abandonment; it’s oxygen.
When our minds orbit another’s wrongdoing, we lose alignment with our own purpose. The spiritual lens of the Tenth and Eleventh Steps teaches us that serenity is born in focus — a return to inner guidance. By turning over what we cannot control to a Higher Power, we shift from obsession to observation, from judgment to humility. The act of forgiving becomes a way to see clearly again.
To love myself enough to admit that resentments hold me back is a subtle revolution. It reframes forgiveness from moral obligation to self-care. Each release is a small resurrection, a reclaiming of psychic territory once occupied by pain. The heart, once constricted by bitterness, begins to pulse again with divine rhythm.
Daily Reprieve 
Leave a comment