We all make mistakes. We also do bad, or at least not very helpful, things. We misread a situation, forget something important, say something stupid, follow an unwholesome impulse, act selfishly, cause harm, screw up.
The ability to say we're sorry and extend our hand in peace is the mark of our courage, civility and compassion. When we back that up with a plate of homemade cookies, well, sometimes we can move heaven and earth.
A peace offering can come in many ways, but one of the most convincing is through food. When we've taken the time to make something, or pick up a special treat, or remembered a favorite food, we're taking the words "I'm sorry" one step further. Words can be cheap compared to actions and spending a few hours in the kitchen in behalf of a compromised relationship is a sincere way to express our regret.
Because food is so powerful, because it is so necessary to survival, an offering of food can also send deeper messages. It can say "not only am I sorry, but I want to be sure you're fed and well-cared for." Or "here, take this from my precious supplies, because your survival is as important as mine." Think of the famous stories of enemies spending a holiday together, breaking bread on the front lines, their hostilities temporarily forgotten as they share rations of chocolate and whiskey.
The moment when someone reaches across the chilly divide, offering a hand of peace is both powerful and delicate. When that hand also contains a fresh-baked pie or a jar of your famous homemade applesauce, it can be a little easier to meet it. And eating someone else's food is an incredibly intimate act. When you offer food, and when you accept food, you are no longer in your separate corners. You have met somewhere in the middle, a place where so much more is possible.
The batch of brownies for the neighbor you kept up all night with your rowdy party, the special dinner for your mate after a fight, a sackful of your colleague's favorite donuts after you've screwed up the deadline again: what have you done to sweeten an apology?
(Image: Dana Velden)
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Comments (10)
I used to say 'I'm sorry' with a card and the best chocolate I could get my hands on when I was younger. Strangely, that was also how I said 'thank you'. The chocolate has now evolved into home-made brownies or chocolate cake. Hmmm...guess I subconsciously believe that chocolate is key to all forms of emotional food sharing.
I'm sorry, but I can't get past the missed apostrophe!
rach1007: I feel your pain! There was a little flick of an apostrophe on the card (it's a was very small card and a very very thin pen) but it got lost in the exposure. I would have photoshopped it back in but, well, I don't have photoshop.
DV
Dana, I've come back to read your post several times today. I've thought a lot this fall about how food unites people, and how the act of eating together or sharing tastes of food from a common bowl can heal rifts or form bonds--or, reform bonds that have been bruised or broken. Thank you for a lovely perspective on food that heals.
And this photo of lovely oranges is about 45% of what keeps drawing me back to this post!
Growing up, I could always tell when my sister had done something bad, as that was the only time she baked. Probably had more to do with being grounded and banned from the TV and internet than apologizing, though.
I found the post disturbing and it took me a while to figure out why. In my experience, "I'm sorry" gifts are a way to mollify the person who's been hurt, but don't actually indicate that the person doing the giving is really sorry. I've known people who use gifts like these as a sort of bribe to smooth things over, then go right out and engage in the hurtful behavior they were apologizing for in the first place.
I guess what I'm writing here reaffirms your point, Dana. A gift used to say "I'm sorry" is powerful--powerfully healing or powerfully hurtful.
Will you use your powers for good... or for awesome??
@STH - yes, I've been thinking about this post a lot along a similar line. I understand what Dana is saying and while I believe that a heart-felt "I'm sorry" should be enough, a few brownies can't hurt. The line that trips me up however is "...a sackful of your colleague's favorite donuts after you've screwed up the deadline again..." "Again"? I'd rather have reliable coworkers than donuts any day!
That's why they call it Weekend Meditation, always something good to think about!
The post and comment by STH have me thinking about my relationship with my brother, who I stopped speaking with earlier this year. One reason I won't be baking him some goodies is because it'll give him the opportuniy to reject the offering. (Which I think he'd do b/c he's the petty, vindictive sort.) If you are sincere, giving something, especially that you've made, makes you vulnerable; that's why it's powerful.
I also think that there's a big difference between an "I'm sorry" offering where you've erred and a peace offering where both parties were umm.. not at their best.
Making peace is a very difficult undertaking for some folks, and many have not learned how to have that conversation, either on the apologizing end or the forgiving end. I was surprised by STH's comment. It got ME thinking that what is essential to go with the peace offering is the conversation about how to build more understanding and compassion for each other. The peace offering would ideally facilitate this process. Kushkush is right, coming to the relationship to say "I am sorry" and acknowledging one's own capacity to hurt another and admit it is SO vulnerable and powerful.
How beautiful that the simple act of sharing food and drink can help people connect at a deeper level!