I Just Can't Forgive Myself

“I Just Can’t Forgive Myself” A smart-looking, bespectacled young man in his early thirties sat before me, his face filled with anguish. “Since childhood, I’ve been very good at keeping accounts. Even as a teenager, I would help my parents manage their taxes. So as they grew older and retired, they entrusted their finances to me. My wife also trusted me with her savings. “Somehow, I got enamored with an investment scheme that promised very high returns. It seemed quite reliable, and initially, I did get some good returns. So I kept investing more and more money. Eventually, the whole thing turned out to be like a Ponzi scheme, and I lost everything—not just my savings, but also my wife’s and my parents’ savings. “I feel so angry with myself. How could I have been so stupid? I just can’t forgive myself for what I did.” I had encountered many people who struggled to forgive themselves, and I too had sometimes struggled to forgive myself for my mistakes. But I had never sensed such self-loathing in anyone’s voice. “How is your family taking all this?” I asked. “Both my parents and my wife were shocked and angry initially,” he replied. “But once they got over their initial reactions, they have been very kind and supportive. They keep saying that this was just one mistake. But their kindness actually makes things worse for me. It shows how good they are as people, and that makes what I did to them seem so much worse, so much more unforgivable.” After a pause, he continued, “They keep assuring me that I have a lifetime of experience and expertise in managing finances, and that I can start again and build myself up financially. My wife still has a job, and so do I. My parents still have their pension, even if they have lost their savings. “But I keep thinking: Am I worthy of their confidence? They trust me, but I don’t know whether I can trust myself.” Which Self Can You Not Forgive? Praying for the right words to help him, I asked, “When you say you can’t forgive or trust yourself, which self are you talking about?” He looked confused. “I’m talking about myself. What do you mean—which self?” “The Bhagavad-gita explains that it’s almost as if there are multiple selves inside us,” I replied. “But I thought there is just one self—the soul,” he said, looking puzzled. “Yes, of course,” I explained. “At the deepest level, there is one self, the soul. But in our everyday functioning, different parts of us come to the forefront at different times. “In Bhagavad-gita 6.5, Krishna speaks about the self elevating the self and not degrading the self. He says that the self can be the friend of the self and also the enemy of the self. “One way to understand this is in terms of a higher self and a lower self. Sometimes the higher self is equated with the intelligence and the lower self with the mind. At other times, the higher self is equated with our godly nature and the lower self with our ungodly nature. For simplicity, let’s stick to the terms higher self and lower self. “Now, let’s look at what Krishna’s four statements in Bhagavad-gita 6.5 mean when understood in terms of the higher and lower selves: “The higher self should elevate the lower self. “The lower self should not degrade the higher self. “When the higher self elevates the lower self, the self acts as its own friend. “When the lower self degrades the higher self, the self acts as its own enemy.” “That’s too many selves for me. It sounds very confusing,” he said, his brows creasing. I laughed and nodded. “Yes, that’s true. In the original Sanskrit, Krishna uses forms of the word ātman, meaning ‘self,’ seven times in this one verse. Let me recite it: uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ nātmānam avasādayet ātmaiva hy ātmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ “But let me simplify it with an example. Have you ever felt that there are two different voices inside you? One says, ‘Eat this, watch this, buy this.’ And the other says, ‘Don’t.’” “Of course,” he replied. “So let’s consider the impulsive voice that seeks quick pleasure as the lower self, and the reflective voice that seeks our long-term good as the higher self.” “But aren’t they just voices inside?” he asked. “Well, if we dismiss them as just voices, we may downplay the danger that our lower tendencies can pose to us. “Let’s look at your situation from a slightly different perspective. “Suppose there was an investment firm with two partners. One partner wanted to rush into a questionable and potentially disastrous investment. The other partner was more thoughtful. He expressed reservations and opposed the investment. “But somehow, the impulsive partner went ahead and invested all the money in what turned out to be a Ponzi scheme. They lost everything. “Now, if they are held responsible for the loss, should both partners be punished equally?” “I’m not sure. I don’t think so,” he replied. “Consider what would happen if both were stripped of all their property and sentenced to jail,” I continued. “The partner who had opposed the investment might start thinking, ‘What is the use of being honest? What is the use of having good intentions if I am going to be punished anyway?’ “And suppose that after serving his prison term, nobody ever trusts him again. Nobody gives him a second chance. He may eventually feel that he has no way to earn an honest living and might turn toward crime. “By punishing him for something he had opposed, and by never giving him another chance, society might end up pushing an honest person toward dishonesty.” He replied thoughtfully, “That would be tragic. He should be given a second chance, especially when he wasn’t responsible for the first mess-up. It happened in spite of him, not because of him.” “Precisely,” I said, smiling gently. “When you refuse to forgive yourself, you are lumping your higher self together with your lower self and subjecting both to the same punishment. You are not giving your higher self a chance. “The fact that you regret what you did so strongly indicates that your higher self is active. It recognizes that what happened was terrible. But by condemning yourself indiscriminately, you are punishing the very part of yourself that can help you recover. “You are closing doors for your higher self, denying it opportunities to grow stronger. And that could eventually play into the hands of your lower self.” He became thoughtful. “What you’re saying makes sense. But what should I do about my inability to forgive myself?” Clarity, Consequences, and Commitment “In such situations,” I replied, “I often recommend what I call the three-C approach: Clarity, Consequences, and Commitment. “First, clarity. As we’ve discussed, there is a higher self and a lower self within you. Your lower self led you into a disastrous mistake, but your higher self still exists. You don’t have to condemn your higher self because your lower self went wrong.” “Okay. So what do you mean by consequences?” he asked. “The lower self is not something outside us or completely separate from us,” I explained. “It is within us, and it acts through us. So when we make a mistake, especially one with serious results, there need to be consequences. “But those consequences should be targeted so that they restrain and reform the lower self. They shouldn’t end up shackling and shaming the higher self. “For example, you might decide that you won’t make any significant investment without pausing sufficiently and consulting someone you trust. Such safeguards can prevent your impulsive tendencies from getting another easy opportunity to repeat the mistake. “Similarly, if someone has a tendency to drink excessively, they might decide not to keep alcohol easily accessible. “And wherever possible and necessary, we should also try to make amends for the harm we have caused. But to do that, we need to strengthen the part of ourselves that wants to do better.” “Okay,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s where the third C comes in: commitment,” I continued. “We need to stand by our higher self. We need to commit ourselves to that part of us and assure it, ‘I am with you, and I am for you.’ “We can support and strengthen our higher self by spending time with people who are thoughtful, uplifting, and virtuous. And ultimately, the best way to nourish our higher self is by connecting it with the highest self—God, Krishna. “It is our higher self that seeks God’s help, or at least becomes open to receiving it. And as we nourish our higher self through that connection, we become increasingly capable of reforming our lower self. “So commitment means recognizing that there is something within us worth supporting and strengthening. And even our lower self is redeemable: as the higher self becomes stronger, it can gradually elevate the lower self too.” “So what does all this mean practically for me?” he asked. “Let’s look at your situation through the three Cs,” I replied. “First, clarity: Let go of your unwillingness to forgive yourself by clearly recognizing that your higher self doesn’t deserve such harshness for what your lower self did. “Second, consequences: Decide what safeguards and restrictions you need so that your lower self is restrained and reformed. At the very least, make it harder for your lower self to repeat its mistakes. And ideally, help it gradually lose the inclination to make those mistakes at all. “Third, commitment: Commit yourself to practices that will support and strengthen your higher self, so that it becomes the stronger influence within you and can eventually elevate even your lower self.” “This sounds quite simple and straightforward,” he said. “Are there any dangers or pitfalls I need to watch out for?” I nodded. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness in asking that question. I think we need to avoid two extremes. “At one extreme, we impose consequences on ourselves without offering ourselves any commitment. We keep beating ourselves down until our confidence and sense of self-worth become so damaged that we may become dysfunctional. We are so determined to punish ourselves for our past mistakes that we undermine our capacity to act better in the future.” He became grave. “I think I’ve been doing this with myself.” I nodded and continued, “At the other extreme, we offer ourselves commitment without consequences. We keep reassuring ourselves, ‘I’m better than this,’ but don’t take the necessary precautions. We focus so much on our potential that we neglect the danger posed by our lower tendencies. Eventually, those tendencies can ambush us again because we’ve become careless. “The healthy middle lies in combining both: consequences that restrain and reform the lower self, and commitment that supports and strengthens the higher self.” He became pensive. “This clicks for me. While growing up, I saw many people who were so nonchalant about their mistakes. They would treat their mistakes as if they didn’t matter and just move on with life. It seemed as if they didn’t even care about the people they had hurt. “I never wanted to become like that. I was always afraid that I would become shameless like them. But I think in not wanting to become like them, I’ve gone to the other extreme. Whereas they might have been too soft on themselves, I have become too hard on myself.” “Precisely,” I replied. “It’s good that you’re able to connect what we’re discussing with your own life experience. “Often our thinking tends to become one-track. Once we decide that there is something we never want to become, avoiding it can become our defining drive. We become so focused on staying away from one extreme that we don’t notice when we’ve slipped into the opposite extreme. “You saw people being so soft on themselves that they seemed shameless, and you were determined never to become like them. But in trying to avoid being too soft on yourself, you’ve become so hard on yourself that you now feel too worthless to deserve forgiveness. “So try to bring your relationship with yourself to a healthier level. Be careful about your lower self while remaining hopeful about your higher self.” He nodded, thanked me, and left. Looking at Myself Through the Three Cs As I reflected on our conversation afterward, it struck me that I too needed to find a healthier balance in my relationship with myself. Two of my main services are speaking and writing. I tend to be quite hard on myself when it comes to speaking and quite soft on myself when it comes to writing. Just last week, because of my constant traveling across different time zones, I got confused about the timing of an online class. I thought the audience was five hours behind me, whereas they were actually five hours ahead. When I woke up in the morning, thinking I had a class at noon, I saw multiple missed calls. The class had been scheduled for 2 a.m. my time. It had already happened, and I hadn’t been there. I immediately sent a long apology message to the organizer. Whenever I have missed a class, I have sincerely apologized for the inconvenience I caused. But when I thought about my writing service, I noticed how differently I often respond to missed deadlines. I tend to brush off those delays by telling myself that I have been busy traveling or thinking about other things. And when my editor reminds me that I am behind schedule, rather than apologizing, I often get annoyed and try to justify my delay. Yet, as my editor has pointed out, other people are involved in producing a book. The editorial team has its schedule, the layout team needs time, the printer has its commitments, and mainstream publishers have their plans for releasing different books. My delays affect their work too. As this observation sank in, I felt I needed to take an inventory of my life: Where was I being too hard on myself, and where was I being too soft? With that sobering contemplation, I offered a prayer: My dear Lord, help me understand myself with greater clarity, so that my relationship with myself becomes healthier. Let me never become so hard on myself that I lose the confidence that I can improve. Let me never become so soft on myself that I don’t even feel the need to improve. When I make mistakes, let me not equate myself with my lower self and consider myself worthless. When I do something good, let me not equate myself with my higher self and consider myself flawless. Help me remember that although I am flawed, You still consider me worthy of serving You. Empower me to strengthen and elevate my higher self, and gradually my lower self too, so that one day I can offer my entire self to You. *** 06.05 One must deliver himself with the help of his mind, and not degrade himself. The mind is the friend of the conditioned soul, and his enemy as well. The post I Just Can’t Forgive Myself first appeared on Chaitanya Charan Das, Bhagavad Gita ISKCON .