Fabric Podcast

The longing for stillness is its own kind of fire… quiet, insistent, easy to dismiss until you can't anymore. This week we practice the art of the honest pause, and ask what yearning reveals when we finally get still enough to hear it.
 
LINKS:
Keepers of the Fire |  Connect  |  YouTube  |  Coming Up

Underneath every longing– for love, for purpose, for belonging, for rest– there's often a simpler, older ache: to exist without fear. This week we hold that tenderly, name how far the world still is from that vision, and commission each other as keepers of the fire for ourselves, for one another, and for that big, divine vision of love that could be.

Good morning Fabric! Will you help me spread that greeting around a little bit?  See if you can high-five or fist bump 2 or three people near you and say “Good Morning”,  I’m glad you are here!” or “Hi Friend!”
Great work everyone! Thanks for helping to spread the welcome and to warm ourselves up a little for this morning! You might need it😊
I’m Heidi Esposito, director of children, youth and family here with Fabric, mother of two amazing adults with amazing partners, and mother to two adorable sassy pups, and…the master of fun!
We have been talking these last few weeks about the longing and the ache that humans have at the core of our truest selves. The fire in our bellies that asks if things could be different for us, more fulfilling for us and for our world. 
Two weeks ago, we talked about our longing for connection and relationships and last week Ian helped us to remember that the longing for meaning and purpose might really be our main mission in life. Purpose is the thing for each of us that connects our deep gladness with the greatest needs or hurts of the world.  If you missed those weeks, I encourage you to go back and listen to the podcasts or check out the livestream. 
Today, we are going to explore the ache or longing we have (or should have) for play and I imagine there might be some skeptics or nay-sayers in the room, thinking that play is for kids or for people that have much more spare time than you have, or like me lucky enough to also get to play for their job. 
So, before we start really digging in, I would like everyone to stand as you are able, and I’d like to do a baseline test on your propensity for playfulness. 
Play: Top Monkey
Score yourself a point if you laughed, stepped outside your comfort zone, connected with other people, felt a little less stressed, practiced flexibility or felt your brain being challenged. How many points did you get? Awesome, we are going to do well today. 
There is a guy named Stewart Brown, author of multiple books on play, producer of a series on PBS on play as well as on TED, and founder of the National Institute for Play, an expert on play you might say, points to science that shows that “nothing lights the brain up more than play” (and at my age, I’m particularly concerned and pleased about that😊) 
I think generally we agree that play is important for kids and for their development, but what happens to us as adults? Are we even willing to admit that we have a longing or yearning for play? I think that many adults are not willing to trust in the ache or longing, or it is stuffed so deep down, we would hardly recognize it, resent it  or it feels like too much of a luxury.  Where are you in terms of having or trusting in the yearning for play?…Fist-to-five…Fist (I don’t buy the idea that all people do or should have an ache for play)Five (I believe in play so much I have a big tattoo across my back that says “play-baby-play”
 
I think that is where a practice like the Daily Examen can help us to tap into the things that we are longing for, to notice and pay attention, to trust, and then to tend to that ache. 
There have been times in my life, actually many, many, many, times, that I have begun a practice of journaling it usually lasted for a page or two, but I have had some success at keeping a really simple gratitude practice – similar to the Daily Examen and when I page back through I notice patterns around where gratitude keeps showing up – patterns of times when I have been the most joyful, free, my true self, deeply grateful and the most alive.  I think looking back and noticing those patterns helped me to pay attention to the ache and longing that I have for play and helped me to tend to that longing with more care and importance and made me have the courage to try and add some new things into my life that aligned with the longing for play.
So, what exactly counts as play? Let’s work together to see if we can discover what play is and come up with a working definition for us. Take a look in your Sunday Papers and take out the 4”x4” square of paper.  Write “Play is” at the top. Kids, this is for you too!  We need your expertise on this! Ok you have 1 minute to write down your best definition for what play is.  Kids, you can write words or draw a picture of what play looks like for you. Ok Go!
Now, I want you to crumple that paper up into a little ball.  This side of the room turn and face the middle, and the other side to do the same. 
When I say “go” we are going to create a snowstorm of play ideas, your job is to throw your “ball” across towards the other side (or as far as a paper ball will travel) and then find one ball that isn’t your own AND (here is the important direction) gather in groups of 4-5 people. Ready Go!
OK, share what is on your slip with your group. And when you’re done, sit back down.
Shout out a few of the gems that you heard the best definitions. 
Although Stewart Brown says that defining play is a little like explaining a joke, he says that play is far more than simply having “fun” — Play is a FUNDAMENTAL BIOLOGICAL PROCESS and a CORE HUMAN NEED that is essential for survival, creativity, and well-being. For Brown, play is the purest expression of our HUMANITY and the truest expression of our INDIVIDUALITY, and the state in which we feel MOST ALIVE 
And I would add it is the fire in our bellies that CANNOT BE IGNORED.
And Play includes many of the things that you wrote down on those snowballs like…
Purposelessness – when we engage in things that don’t have a prescribed outcome and we don’t do it out of obligation. 
Freedom – Play is happening when we lose track of time.  It has a lot of similarities to how athletes describe being in the “flow” and it includes this free feeling that makes us want to keep doing whatever we are doing. And includes the freedom from being concerned with what others think of us. It releases that self-consciousness that we as adults tend to always carry around with us and kids almost never do. 
Play is Natural, part of our biology - it is how we as humans and all living creatures have been created to be, just take a look at our kin in the animal world – show video . So cute!                                                     and as Stewart Brown reminds us…Of all animal species, humans are the biggest players of all. We are built to play and built through play.”
Play is…a huge catalyst for…connection, building empathy, trust, problem solving, creative thinking, learning, teamwork/collaboration, curiosity, risk taking, thinking outside the box, mindfulness, reducing stress/anxiety/depression. The list of benefits goes on and on.
And play does indeed include…Fun! Best boredom reliever and mental health booster ever! 
That makes me wonder…if we can afford not to tend to our ache for play? Aspects of play have played an important part of all of the significant breakthroughs in the sciences, arts, and humanities.
Any chance you want to change your pre-message first to five research number? 
So why don’t we play?
OK, we are going to use play to discover those reasons that we lean away from that ache for play. We are going to bring out some bags of balloons, start some music and we are going to play and bop those balloons around the room. – when the music is playing keep bopping. When the music stops, hold onto the balloon in your hand or the one nearest to you. (play a couple of times, stopping the music every 20-30 seconds) 
Now, if you are holding a balloon, I want you to pop it using some part of your body. If you are sensitive or triggered by balloon popping, cover your ears. Once your balloon is popped, find the piece of paper inside, and bring it to the front. Ok start popping!
Adults lean away from play because…
We are TOO BUSY – We feel a scarcity of time and so play gets cut out for more “important” things. 
We feel like we have to EARN the privilege to play. Once we get all the other work done, then maybe we will play. We think play is something we do ONLY when everything else is done. Shocker alert – that list is never done!
 A fear of looking SILLY. For many being truly playful takes too much vulnerability. We are afraid of being judged for not being more “adult”
We don’t want to appear LAZY (story about popping up off the couch)
It feels easier to NUMB. Rather than playing, we pick up our phones and scroll or watch a show. 
Adults feel confused when there isn’t a clear GOAL. We are such a productivity driven society that  for many, play just seems pointless. 
What is the thing that is keeping you from tending to your ache for play? Take the longer slip of paper that is in your SP and write down the things that keep you from playing or trusting in the ache you feel for play. 
Later we are going to put these barriers into the fire that represents the fire in our bellies that  we want to keep burning that longs for play. 
Take a look at that list of benefits again - connection, building empathy, trust, problem solving, creative thinking, learning, teamwork/collaboration, curiosity, risk taking, thinking outside the box, mindfulness, reducing stress/anxiety/depression. We, especially in this current climate, are in need for play more than ever! I would argue that play might be the most productive thing we can do. 
Stewart Brown names play as something as critical to development as sleep and nutrition. So I think it might just be critical for us as adults too! 
Jesus of course knew this, so many stories that Jesus told were helping people draw back to the ache in their bellies, to show up in the world as their true-whole selves, including being playful. 
So, in this story from the bible written by Matthew, who was one of the writers who told the story of Jesus’ life, told this story about a time when Jesus was traveling about the region of Galilee teaching and helping people to imagine what it might be like to be part of God’s big vision of love for the world – to love and be loved. 
Now, I imagine at the start of his ministry, people were really wowed because he was saying things that seemed so revolutionary and so different than what they had been told who God is and how this big big love shows up in the world, and maybe, many were caught up in the movement of Jesus. 
As time went on, people and especially the religious leaders were starting to try and test Jesus and to maybe poke at the places that people were being drawn to that took power away from them. Even his disciples were noticing his popularity and were wanting to make sure they were coming along with him, so they asked: Hey, we were wondering, who gets the highest rank, who gets to be top dog in God’s big vision of love?  
To answer this question, Jesus called the children into the center. So, kids, can you come down and join me here in the center? I imagine Jesus looking at the adults, the ones that probably felt they were ranking pretty high, right in the eye and then told them. Dudes, unless you become like these geniuses, the ones that get it, that know how to be playful, to look at the world with eyes that are curious and filled with wonder, and willing to let go of all the crap and be free, you will have a hard time seeing and recognizing God’s big vision of love.  Connecting to our playful, wondering, curious, open side of ourselves might be the best way for us to live a deeply woven life. 
Kids, you already are the experts on play, so I’m going to have you do some playing and demonstrate to the grown-ups the fun and delight of play while I’m talking to them about what keeps us from being playful. Who likes toys? I’m going to give you a bag of stuff and I wonder if you can invent a toy or something to play with using those things. Sound OK? 
Alright losers, let’s see if we can figure out how to become a little more like children and embrace our yearning for play.
Let’s circle back to the Daily Examen…and wonder about the postures we could try out and practice that would encourage playfulness, taking the time, intention and willingness to be in our growth zones and try out play.
We need a  posture of BOLDNESS to be willing to fully engage in playing – no half-assedness or going through the motions. (Barbie story)
We need a posture of SPONTANEITY to being willing to let go of trying to control everything (Lizzie and my trip to AZ)
We need a posture of CURIOSITY – we need to slow down, notice things, ask questions, and be willing to look at things from new perspectives.
We need a posture of ENDULGENCE – practice telling ourselves that we are made to play. Turn to your neighbor and say “I am made to play.” Play is not an extra to add on that we get when we are extra good. 
We need a posture of MISTAKE MAKING – nothing grows our brains or loosens our hold on being perfect than doing things that will ensure that we are going to make mistakes and play is a great place to start. 
I want to give you a Play “To Do list” with three things for you to try this week. 
First, put play on your CALENDAR – it likely is not going to happen unless we do. Maybe it is game night with family or friends, or taking an adventure to explore in the woods, or trying out a new sport, or gathering a bunch of your recycling or stuff from a junk drawer and create, or turn on the music and hold a 5 minute dance party! It can be as simple as that, but put it on your calendar.
Second, look for ways to make your WORK more playful. I mean this is where we spend a lot of our time each week! You might really surprise yourself at how play can boost your energy, make you more collaborative, improve connections with co-workers, or open yourself up to new ideas when you are stuck. 
At Fabric we often start our staff meetings on Mondays with something I like to call Connection Before Content. We might do a drawing exercise, or word game, minute to win it style game, or something that I pull from my favorite website – PLAYMEO – check it out, there is a free version with tons of play ideas to get you started. But you can also take some of your mundane tasks and gamify them. I have been known to see if I can put away my dishes from the dishwasher taking less than 10 steps. It’s being playful.
Third suggestion is to find out your unique  PLAY STYLE. There is a quick 8 question quiz you can do to following the QR code on your Sunday Paper to find our your unique play style and it gives you some suggestions of ways to play that align with your unique preferences or style of play. It is much easier to build a routine of play if you start with ways that feel most comfortable for you. 
Let’s check out how our play inventors are doing. (have a few kids show what they made and describe what it is and how you would play with it)
As my shirt says…Play, shuffle, repeat.

What if your restlessness isn't a distraction from your purpose? What if it is your purpose, trying to get your attention? This episode explores the relationship between yearning and calling, and consider the possibility that the fire in your belly already knows something you haven't caught up to yet.
 
LINKS:
Keepers of the Fire |  Connect  |  YouTube  |  Coming Up

We don't just want people in our lives, we ache for the ones who know us fully and stay anyway. This week we sit with the longing for connection that goes beyond convenience or proximity, and ask what it might mean to stop settling for less than we were made for.
 
LINKS:
Keepers of the Fire |  Connect  |  YouTube  |  Coming Up
TRANSCRIPT:
Relationships: What we reach for in each other
Before we get into anything else— before really introducing this conversation series or today’s particular theme— I want you to pull something out of your Sunday Papers.
It's called a Daily Examen.
If that word's new to you, here's the short version: it's an old prayer practice— centuries old, actually— where instead of asking God to fix your day or explain your life, you just look back over it. Slowly, and gently. You notice what moved you. What you're grateful for. What quietly grew you. And you ask, at the end, what all of that might be inviting you into next.
Super simple prayer practice that requires no performance or right answers. Just noticing.
We made our own version of it for this series— for the next six weeks we're calling Keepers of the Fire— and instead of just talking about it, I want us to actually do it. Right now. Together.
So take a minute. Look at the front side. Grab a pen, or just sit with it in your head. Let yourself notice what you're actually grateful for. Then, let yourself notice what's brought you joy, energy, a sense of coming alive lately. Don't rush to explain any of it or fix it or figure out what it means or anything like that.
Just let yourself want deep, big things.
Let yourself ache a little. I’m going to give you a little time here to think about it, and then write or draw in the boxes on your page.
However that landed for you, however much or little showed up, that's okay. That's the practice.
Now, flip it over. The back side is a second copy, identical to the one you just did, because this isn't a one-time thing. Take it home. Do it again tomorrow, or Tuesday, or whenever you can steal five or ten quiet minutes this week. The fire you just noticed doesn't go out when you leave this room.
And underneath all of that noticing is a question we're going to be living with together for six weeks— a fire most of us have learned to keep quiet in any number of ways. So before I tell you what this series is about, I wanted you to spend a little time with your own fire first.
When you're ready— when you've done a little dreaming, a little longing, a little honest noticing— we'll talk about where we're headed. Starting with the first thing that fire always wants: relationship.
SECTION 1: A turn in the road
For the last many weeks we've been in The Book of Forgiving, looking back from where we stand, at real hurts, real wounds, charting a kind of path forward that can only be achieved through forgiving. That was important work, and I hope it did something for you.
Today, we’re turning around.
We're going to spend the next six weeks not looking back, but looking forward. Standing where we are and trusting a gut feeling. A sacred impulse. A fire in the belly that says: things can be better than this.
That feeling has a lot of names. For the next six weeks, let’s call it The Ache.
What is The Ache?
The Ache is that restless, reaching, yearny feeling. The sense that the world could be different. That you could be different. That there's more available — in your relationships, your life, your world — than what you're currently experiencing.
Kids feel it when they want a best friend who really gets them. Adults feel it when a conversation goes surprisingly deep and they think, “why don't I have more of this?” We all feel it when we watch the news and think: it doesn't have to be this way. [I felt it this weekend as I thought about 250 years of the American experiment, and remembered that there’s a reality behind all the mythologies that deserves attention as we work to continue collectively rejecting tyranny.]
The Ache is not ingratitude. It is not greed. It is not naivete.
It’s is one of the most human things about you. And we've been told (in a hundred quiet ways) to tamp it down.
Name the voices: be realistic, be grateful, stop wanting so much, just be content. 
I want to make a case today that the fire in your belly is WORTH PROTECTING. That the world needs more people willing to tend it, not EXTINGUISH it. Across the next six weeks, we’ll look at six of the MANY MANY ways the fire burns: relationships, purpose, play, belonging, peace, safety. This week: relationships.
SECTION 2: The ache for relationship
One of the clearest places The Ache shows up is in our longing for real relationship. Not just people in our lives, but people who know us. Fully. (And stay anyway.)
We want to be chosen. We want to be seen. We want to be the person someone calls first— when something wonderful happens, or when everything falls apart.
The cultural counter-message: that needing people this deeply is weakness. That you should be more self-sufficient. That wanting to be truly known is somehow greedy or unrealistic or too dreamy.
And so we settle. We keep things surface-level because it's safer. We stay busy so we don't have to feel the ache. We tell ourselves we're fine.
But we're not always fine. And the ache doesn't go away just because we ignore it.
SECTION 3: Ruth and Naomi
There’s a story in the Hebrew Bible, what the Christian church calls the “Old Testament,” that provides a really beautiful example of the kind of Ache we’re talking about today: Relationships. What we’re reaching for in each other.
The story opens in a time of famine in Bethlehem. A man named Elimelech leaves with his wife Naomi and their two sons and relocates to Moab, a foreign land, to survive. While there, Elimelech dies, leaving Naomi a widow. Her two sons marry Moabite women— Orpah and Ruth (a totally different people and culture) and the family lives there for about a decade. Then tragedy strikes again: both sons die, leaving Naomi without a husband, without sons, and now without any male protector or provider in a patriarchal world where that mattered enormously for survival.
Naomi decides to return home to Bethlehem, having heard that the famine there has ended. She sets out with her two daughters-in-law, but partway on the road, she stops and tells them to turn back— to go home to their own mothers, remarry, and rebuild their lives in Moab, among their own people and gods. She has nothing left to offer them: no more sons for them to marry, no security, no future she can guarantee. It's an act of real love and release; she'd rather send them toward safety than let loyalty to her strand them in poverty and grief.
Orpah, after weeping, kisses Naomi goodbye and turns back. It's a reasonable choice… she's doing what Naomi herself told her to do.
But Ruth stays.
Naomi urges her one more time: "Look, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and her gods. Go with her." That's the moment right before Ruth's famous response… a choice to cling to Naomi rather than to safety, homeland, or even her own religious identity, setting up one of the most quoted declarations of loyalty and love in scripture.
Here’s what Ruth says:
"Wherever you go, I will go; and wherever you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried."
This isn't obligation. Ruth has every socially acceptable reason to walk away, and she doesn't. What's driving her isn't duty. It's something deeper. A pull toward this person. A refusal to let the connection go. They’ve gone through life together, and they know each other intimately. She’s not goin’ anywhere. This is The Ache in action. Ancient, sacred, and completely recognizable. 
The longing to belong to someone (and for someone to belong to you) is not a modern anxiety. It is written all the way through humanity’s OLDEST STORIES. Because it is woven all the way through what it means to be human.
Why it's harder than it should be
Any fans of Mel Robbins in th room? Mel Robbins’ "Let Them Theory" is a psychological framework about releasing the need to control others and radically accepting who they are. It asserts that instead of wasting energy on what you cannot control, you should "let them" show you who they are, and then "let me" dictate your own boundaries and reactions.
Most adult friendships don't drift because of betrayal or neglect. They drift because one of three things falls away: PROXIMITY, TIMING, or ENERGY.
Proximity — you used to see each other constantly. School, the neighborhood, the same building. Now life has scattered everyone.
Timing — you're in different life chapters. Different demands, different rhythms. Even when the love is there, the overlap isn't.
Energy — that click, that chemistry. You either have it with someone or you don't, and you can't manufacture it.
Kids in the room, you know that when you’re in places like school, the conditions for friendship are pretty much built in, in place like school. You’re with people. You’re with people your age, sharing an experience. And there’s some unstructured time to find out who the really good playmates are with you...
Adults have to be intentional about all three: who we’re near, how our lives overlap, and whether we have chemistry. And most of us were never taught how.
This is one of the reasons “third spaces” matter so much. Not home, not work— a hosted space like this. A community where proximity is built in, where people are at similar enough life moments to find timing, and where you have enough unstructured, low-stakes time to find out if the energy is there.
This community exists, in part, for this. Not just to hear a message— but to be a place where The Ache for real relationship gets to be named (not just to a staff person but to one another across time) and not squished.
The fire and what blocks it
So what gets in the way? What keeps us from letting people fully in?
Maybe it's a time you were vulnerable and it didn't go well. Maybe it's the belief that you're too much— or not enough. Maybe it's just the pace of life that keeps everything moving too fast for depth to form. Maybe it's pride. Maybe it's fear (it’s always fear for me). Maybe it's just not knowing how.
I want to invite you to sit with one question for a moment silently, and then with a neighbor: "What's one thing that gets in the way of your own yearning for deep relationships?"
Whatever came up for you — that's what we're going to do something with today.
The fire outside
In a few minutes, we're going to invite you to do something simple. Write down (or draw) whatever barrier came to mind. The thing that stands between you and the kind of connection you actually ache for. And then on our way out, we're going to take those outside, and tend an actual fire together. And offer those barriers to the fire itself, as a symbolic act of saying: I don't want this to have as much power over me as it has.
Because the world needs more people willing to stay a little naive. A little unrealistic. A little stubbornly convinced that deep connection is possible… and worth reaching for.
The cynics will call it wishful thinking. We're going to call it keeping the fire. Welcome to Keepers of the Fire.

After five weeks asking what it means to forgive, this week we flip it and ask the harder question: what kind of person am I in the lives of others? Becoming forgivable turns out to be one of the most liberating, and most demanding, practices there is.
LINKS:
Book of Forgiving  |  Connect  |  YouTube  |  Coming Up

Reconciliation isn't the same thing as forgiveness. We've probably been confusing the two for too long, and it’s had real consequences for real people. In this episode, let’s look honestly at what genuine repair actually requires, who's responsible for what, and why it's worth the hard work of getting it right. 
 
LINKS:
Book of Forgiving  |  Connect  |  YouTube  |  Coming Up
TRANSCRIPT:
Ian calls kids up and shares puppets (all the animal characters from Wally and Freya)
Setup: We've been talking about Wally and Freya for a few weeks now. But there were other animals in this story— a whole community. And when something happens between two people, the whole community has to figure out how to respond.
I need some helpers. Each of you gets a character.
Facilitate a short, lively role play — you narrate, kids voice their characters:
Wally did something that hurt Freya. Now everybody has to decide what to do.Name each option clearly as kids play them out:
Get even — someone decides to do something mean back to Wally.
Throw a tantrum — someone just explodes with feelings.
Ask for help — someone goes to a trusted adult.
Forgive — someone decides to let it go and move forward.
Choose the relationship — someone decides whether they even want to keep being Wally's friend.
Wally & Freya book
Here's what I want you to notice: in any situation where someone gets hurt, everybody has choices. Not just one choice, but a whole menu of them. Some of those choices help. Some of them make things worse. And some of them are really, really hard.
The hardest one (and the most interesting one) is what we're talking about today. The word you are going to hear me use is called “reconciliation,” and it means making a relationship better. It's not the same thing as forgiveness. They're related, but they're different. Here's the difference:
Forgiveness is something YOU do, inside yourself. Reconciliation is something that happens BETWEEN PEOPLE. It takes both people showing up.
Painting rocks… what are words we could use?
The Distinction We Were Not Taught
We have spent this whole series untangling forgiveness from the myths we inherited about it. Today we untangle one more, and it might be the most practically important one.
Forgiveness and reconciliation are not the same thing.
We use them interchangeably. We shouldn't. Collapsing them into one action creates real damage:
It pressures the wounded person to restore a relationship before they feel safe.
It lets the person who caused harm off the hook for the actual work of repair.
It produces what we might call false reconciliation, a surface-level "we're fine" that buries the wound rather than healing it.
The Tutus: "The preference is always to renew unless there is a question of safety." But — and this is important — reconciliation is the fourth step of the Fourfold Path, not the first. You cannot skip to it. And sometimes, honestly, you never get there. To be clear: not reaching reconciliation is not s sign of failure either. That's reality.
Lessons from the TRC
In 1995, Nelson Mandela appointed Archbishop Desmond Tutu to chair South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission… a body tasked with the nearly impossible: helping a nation begin to heal from decades of apartheid-era atrocity.
The TRC was empowered to grant amnesty to perpetrators who confessed their crimes truthfully and completely to the commission. Not automatically. Not cheaply. Truth first.
Tutu's final remarks after submitting the report were: "We have looked the beast in the eye. Our past will no longer keep us hostage."
Notice what the commission was called. Not the Reconciliation Commission. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Truth comes first. Always.
What Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the TRC understood, and what we so often get backwards, is that healing actually does have an order. You cannot reconcile what you have not first actually named. You cannot repair what no one has acknowledged was broken. Skipping truth in the name of peace doesn't produce peace. It produces a ceasefire. Those are different things.
The TRC also knew its limits. The commission's final report recommended prosecution in cases where amnesty was not sought or was denied. Reconciliation and accountability were held together, not traded against each other. That's the model.
The Asymmetry of Reconciliation
Here's something the Tutus make explicit that almost nobody else does: the person who was hurt and the person who caused harm have fundamentally different work to do in reconciliation. The path is not the same for both.
For the person who was hurt:
Your work is the Fourfold Path: telling the story, naming the hurt, granting forgiveness, and then deciding whether to renew or release the relationship.
You do not owe anyone reconciliation. Forgiveness is yours to give on your own timeline. Reconciliation requires the other person to show up.
The Tutus: "Ask for what you need from the perpetrator in order to renew or release the relationship." That's your right. An apology. An explanation. A changed behavior. To never see them again. All of these are legitimate.
For the person who caused harm— the Tutus' framework from Chapter 8 is equally clear:
ADMIT the wrong.
Witness the ANGUISH Don't argue, don't cross-examine, don't justify. Just listen to what your actions cost the other person…
APOLOGIZE genuinely… When you apologize, you are restoring the dignity that you have violated, and acknowledging that the offense has happened.
ASK for forgiveness… and honor whatever answer you receive.
Make AMENDS or restitution wherever possible.
This asymmetry matters because we almost never name it. We treat reconciliation as if both parties are equally responsible for making it happen. But if someone caused harm and hasn't done their work— hasn't admitted it, hasn't witnessed the anguish, hasn't asked for forgiveness— placing the burden of reconciliation equally on the wounded person is just another form of harm.
What Gets in teh Way
Why is our culture so bad at this? A few honest reasons:
Cheap accountability. "I said sorry, what more do you want?" An apology that doesn't include witnessing the other person's pain, or making any effort toward repair, isn't accountability. It's a bid to end the discomfort of being the one who caused harm.
Forced and premature reconciliation. Especially in families, churches, and workplaces (read: systems with power dynamics!) pressure to reconcile before the wounded person is ready, or before the person who caused harm has done their work, is coercion masked as grace.
No shared vocabulary or ritual. This is a distinctly American problem. We have almost no cultural practices around genuine repair. We have legal settlements. We have awkward apologies. We don't have a process. The Tutus give us one. Most of us were never taught it.
The fear that accountability and restoration can't coexist. They can. The TRC proved it — imperfectly, controversially, but really. Truth and healing are not enemies. They need each other.
Sometimes, Reconciliation isn’t Possible or Appropriate.
Some people may be carrying experiences of abuse, violence, or sustained harm
Some relationships should not be restored. The Tutus themselves say the preference is always to renew… unless there is a question of safety. Safety is not a small caveat. It is the first question.
Releasing a relationship— choosing not to restore it— is not a failure of forgiveness. It is sometimes the most brave thing a person can do. You can forgive someone and never speak to them again… it’s totally not a contradiction.
Reconciliation requires two willing, honest, accountable people. If only one person is doing the work, what you have is not reconciliation. It's one person carrying everything alone… again.
The Reconciliation Map
Here's a practice to take into this week...
Think of a relationship in your life where there has been harm… either harm done to you, or harm you caused.
Ask yourself honestly: Where are we actually in this process?
Has the story been told — honestly, out loud, to someone?
Has the hurt been named — the feelings underneath the facts?
Has forgiveness been granted — or is it still in process?
Has there been any movement toward renewing or releasing the relationship?
You don't have to be further along than you are. This isn't a checklist for shame. It's just a snapshot, and an honest look at where you actually stand, so you can take the next step that's actually yours to take.
Wrap-up
Next week is our last week together in this series. We're going to flip the question one final time and ask: what does it mean to be forgivable? What's my role in the harm I've caused — and what does it look like to become someone who can be forgiven?
This is hard, slow, important work. You're doing it!

Here's the uncomfortable truth: forgiveness isn't primarily for the other person… it's for you. (Ugh, we know.) This week we explore what it might mean to stop letting a past wound have the final word over your present life.
 
LINKS:
Book of Forgiving  |  Connect  |  YouTube  |  Coming Up
TRANSCRIPT:
 
Retell from Freya's perspective — what was she feeling as Wally spoke? Name those feelings out loud and mark a stone with washable marker for each one as you name them:
Angry. (mark)
Sad. (mark)
Embarrassed. (mark)
Lonely. (mark)
"Look at this stone now. Pretty marked up. That's what it looks like when we've been carrying a lot."
Watch the video — Freya bringing Wally back, returning him to their community.
Unpack: What did Freya choose? She didn't pretend it didn't happen. She didn't say it was okay. But she chose something — and whatever she chose, it changed things. We're going to do something with these stones in a little while. Hold onto yours.
Hand out stones and washable markers to kids. Send them back to seats to mark up their stones and work on kids Sunday Papers.
Adults — I want to talk to you now. But kids, you're welcome to listen in!
Where We’ve Been
Brief catch-up for anyone new or returning:
We're in The Book of Forgiving — drawing from Desmond and Mpho Tutu's framework for how forgiveness actually works.
The Fourfold Path: Tell the Story → Name the Hurt → Grant Forgiveness → Renew or Release the Relationship.
In the first week: We told our stories. Last week: We named the hurt: the feelings underneath the facts. Today: we take the hardest step. We talk about what it actually means to grant forgiveness.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Here's where we have to say something that cuts against almost everything our culture tells us about forgiveness: Forgiveness is not primarily for the other person. It's FOR YOU. (ugh, I know.)
That feels wrong at first. It can even feel like a betrayal of the seriousness of what was done. If I forgive, doesn't that let them off the hook?
No. And we'll come back to that. But first… someone wise once put it this way: "Forgiveness is the act of giving up all hope of a better past."
Sit with that for a second. Forgiveness isn’t giving up on justice. Or saying that what happened was okay. Its not pretending it didn't happen. But instead, forgiveness is releasing the white-knuckled grip on the belief (conscious or not) that somehow, if we hold on tight enough, stay angry enough, rehearse it enough, the past will change.
It won't. And the holding on costs us.
What the Holding Costs Us
This isn't just spiritual intuition. There’s reliable research proving it.
When we hold onto unresolved hurt— ruminating, replaying, rehearsing— our bodies respond as if the threat is still happening. Cortisol stays elevated. The nervous system stays on alert. Over time this contributes to measurable increases in anxiety, depression, cardiovascular stress, and immune suppression, among other truly serious health issues.
We are not built to carry this indefinitely. The body keeps the score, and it charges interest.
If we want to “make America healthy again,” it turns out denial just isn’t actually gonna do it. Developing cultural practices around forgiving and healing, though? That’s the ticket.
The Tutus frame the alternative this way: in the Revenge Cycle, we reject our pain and try to make it go away by hurting the person who hurt us. In the Forgiveness Cycle, we face our pain. We don't deny it or minimize it. And we choose to move toward healing instead.
The Tutus: "In the Revenge Cycle, we reject our pain and suffering and believe that by hurting the person who hurt us our pain will go away." It doesn't. It never has. It simply multiplies… 
There’s all sorts of bumper sticker opportunities here: “hurt people hurt people”
The trap: waiting to forgive until the other person apologizes. They may never. They might not even know or appreciate what they did. They may never. But if your freedom is contingent on their remorse, they hold a lot of unearned power over you. It lives rent-free in your head.
What Forgiveness is Not… Clearing the Ground Again
Because this step gets misused more than any other, it's worth naming clearly what granting forgiveness does NOT mean (this is a real “sorry not sorry” moment for repeating this pretty much every week, but we’re untangling a real knot here):
It does not mean what was done to you was okay.
It does not mean you forget.
It does not mean you reconcile. (Forgiveness and reconciliation are separate acts — we'll talk about that next week.)
It does not mean the other person deserves it or has earned it.
It does not mean you have to tell them.
The Tutus: "Forgiveness is a choice. Forgiving is how we move from victim to hero in our own story." 
And honestly, I love being the hero of my own story, but when it comes to pain, I don’t need to be a hero, I just want agency…
And this is key: you can pursue justice and forgiveness at the same time. One does not cancel the other. You can hold someone accountable AND release the stranglehold their actions have on your inner life. These are not in competition. It’s not one or the other.
GRANTING FORGIVENESS… WHAT IT ACTUALLY IS
So what IS it then?
At its core, the Tutus describe granting forgiveness as an act of RECLAIMING YOUR HUMANITY— and in doing so, recognizing the humanity of the person who hurt you. Not excusing them. Not elevating them. But refusing to reduce either of you to the worst moment between you.
This is where the Tutu framework gets genuinely hard. Because recognizing the humanity of someone who hurt you; someone who may have done something terrible… it can feel like a betrayal.
But here's what Desmond Tutu learned in the shadow of apartheid, sitting across from perpetrators of atrocity: to call someone a monster is actually to let them OFF THE HOOK. Monsters can't help what they do. Humans can. Naming someone's humanity–  their capacity to choose, and to have chosen badly— is what makes them accountable. And it's what releases you from defining yourself by what they did.
The Tutus write: "We know we are healing when we are able to tell a new story." Not a story in which the wound never happened. A story in which the wound is no longer the main character.
This is what it looks like in practice:
You stop organizing your life around the person who hurt you.
You stop letting their actions have veto power over your contentment or joy, your relationships, or your sense of self.
You begin— slowly, imperfectly— to live forward instead of backward.
It starts feeling less like a feeling and more like a direction. You turn your face toward something other than the wound. Again. And again. That's the practice.
Kids Back Up to Close
Invite kids back up… talk about those marks on stones.
Forgiveness is the process of remembering that “I am not the things that happened to me.” I am not this mark… or that mark…” Those things hurt, and I have feelings about the person that did that thing to me… but I’m going to choose to be confident in who I am, how I treat others, and I get to make choices about my own self… that person doesn’t get to make decisions about me for me.”
Dip stones in water. 
We’ll talk more about what happens in our relationships next week, and we’ll learn about how Wally & Freya figured that out for themselves and their community of friends.
Closing Invitation
Now we do something together.
"If you've been marking up your stone — kids, adults, anyone — I want to invite you to come forward in a moment and dip it in the water."
Brief explanation of what this means and doesn't mean:
"This isn't a magic trick. Dipping your stone doesn't mean you're over it. It doesn't mean what happened was okay. It doesn't mean you've completed something."
"It's a gesture. A small act of intention. You're saying: I don't want to be defined by this forever. I want to begin to get free."
"The Tutus write that we wash the stone — and it's a cleansing, not an erasing. The stone is still the stone. You are still you. But something has been released."
Invite people forward — quietly, no pressure, in their own time — to dip their stones in water.
Let the room breathe. Music underneath if possible.
Closing
Next week: reconciliation. What does it actually look like to renew or release a relationship? What's required? What's possible? Come back.
A simple benediction:
You are more than what was done to you. Go live like it.