Two monks sat together one evening. The younger one was quiet for a long time, then finally spoke. "Brother, do you remember the master at our old monastery? He was cruel, unfair, cold. He stole years of joy from me. I still think about it, even now. Do you ever think about him?" The old monk nodded. "I do." "And do you hate it? Because I do, and I don't know how to stop." The old monk was quiet, then said, "When that master was cruel to you, he put you in a prison. That hurt was real, but brother, that man has been free for 20 years, living his life, feeling nothing, while you have kept yourself locked in that cell every single day and handed him the key.
Forgiveness is not a gift you give to him. Forgiveness is how you walk out of the prison he built for you." The younger monk sat in silence, tears on his face, not because he was sad, but because he finally understood that the person he refused to forgive had not been suffering at all. Only he had. Who are you still locked in a cell with- someone who has long since moved on, someone who may not even remember?
Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. Forgiveness was never about them. It is about you, your freedom, your peace, your life unlived while you were in prison. They walked out of it long ago. Unlock the door, walk out, not for them, for you."