Forgiveness As An Act of Health - How an injury helped me break rumination

A senior monk and a junior monk were travelling together. At one point, they came to a river with a strong current. As they prepared to cross, they noticed a very young and beautiful woman struggling to make her way to the other side. She asked if they could help her cross. 

The two monks glanced at one another. They had taken vows not to touch a woman. 

Without a word, the older monk picked her up, carried her across the river, gently set her down on the other side, and continued on his journey. 

The younger monk was stunned. After catching up, he remained silent. An hour passed without a word. Then two hours. Then three. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he blurted out,“ As monks, we are not permitted to touch a woman. How could you carry her on

your shoulders?” 

The older monk looked at him and replied,“Brother, I set her down on the other side of the river. Why are you still carrying her?”

I broke my foot a little over two weeks ago. To be honest, the physical manifestation of discomfort felt like a relief. I had been going through so many challenges that not having to hide or explain my stress to others felt like a reprieve. 

To give a small snapshot of what was happening at the time:

• My once peaceful home was surrounded by the sound of cutting rebar for eight to ten hours a day.

• The Canadian man who inspired Boundary Babe is booked to teach workshops this March in my neighbourhood in Nicaragua.

• A neighbour I entered an agreement with in good faith cut me out and chose victimhood over accountability.

• I got a nail in my tire from the construction site.

• My neighbour’s dog injured my dog, bit me, and damaged my house — and I was told keeping the dog on a leash “wasn’t going to happen.”

• We lost power for several days in one week.

• Between the stress and strong winds, I was barely sleeping.

  
  

I was doing all the “right” things to calm my nervous system, but with the density of challenges, a secondary shame began to form: My job is stress and wellness, and I am not well. Still, as someone who has lived through a fair amount of hardship, I kept telling myself, the expectation of perfection is unhealthy. This too shall pass.

“Ships sink because of the water that gets inside them. Don’t let what’s happening around you get inside you and weigh you down.”

The first few days of having a broken foot were logistical—trying to get a cast, find crutches, and get food to my house. Things that are usually easy suddenly became difficult. I live at the top of a hill in the jungle in Nicaragua. I can’t just call a family member to come help me. 

Once things settled, I was met with the silence of my own thoughts. Most days, I found myself spiralling into Fuck those people while limping around, tending to my dog, and consuming far too much of the internet. Small things started to feel enormous, and the isolation caught up with me. 

     During meditation, I got honest. The bitterness wasn’t coming from them. It wasn’t coming from my circumstances. It was coming from me — from my choice to keep replaying the stories. Every time I replayed the situation, my body reacted like it was happening again. My jaw tightened. My chest constricted. My sleep got worse. Nothing outside was changing — but inside, I was still crossing the river.

   Yes, to forgive, I had to grieve. I had to let myself feel the anger and disappointment fully so the lesson could actually land. But after that, holding on wasn’t protection anymore. I had to trust that I had gathered the knowledge and skills from the experience — and that I would make a different decision when inevitably faced with future challenges. Otherwise, I was just rehearsing pain. 

I’m sharing this as a reminder that forgiveness is a process. It moves through awareness, grief, integration, and self-trust. And while it’s not flashy, it can be more regulating and healing than any class, podcast, or superfood you consume. Breaking my foot reminded me how much we need other people. And even if forgiveness does not mean reconciliation, we always have and always will need eachother to be healthy.

Food for Thought:

A study published in the Journal of Clinical Psychology examined how rumination mediates the relationship between forgiveness and depressive symptoms.

Researchers found that rumination explained approximately 36–39% of the association between low forgiveness and higher depression.

In other words, a significant portion of depressive symptoms linked to non-forgiveness occurs because people keep mentally replaying the hurt.

When forgiveness increases, rumination decreases — and depressive symptoms decrease with it. Forgiveness is not just emotional. It is physiological. Are you holding on to something it may be time to set down?

Ask yourself:

1. Have I taken time to understand where the hurt came from?

2. Have I allowed myself to fully feel and process it?

3. Do I trust myself to handle something similar differently next time?

4. What healthy structure can I build now to replace what feels lost?