Forgiving an Onion

In my book "Haze of Heat" Melinda Felix tells Rachel and Gwen that seeking vengeance is a soul-destroying poison we expect the other person to drink. I think this is important because vengeance is a bitterness caused from unforgiveness. Forgiving somebody for a betrayal, hurt or simply ticking you off, sucks. There's no doubt about it. But I think to be a healthy individual, it needs to be done.

For myself, I have to think of it like an onion. At first I'm all flippant and flimsy, like the outermost layer of an onion, but as I forgive again and again (and for the same reason because taking a sledgehammer to that onion will only make a nasty, stinky mess) I put some power into it. Why? Because I want to do something with that onion, like make homemade spaghetti, a spinach and artichoke dip or some spicy salsa.

One of the main reasons I need to learn to forgive is because bitterness - that poison - makes me cranky. And the more hurt I feel, the snarlier I become. Not a pretty picture. I don't want to lash out at a bystander because they innocently prodded a wound caused by some idiotic soul (see how well I'm forgiving?) several years ago.

Hurt people really do hurt other people. I've got one of those in my life. Not a close individual, but close enough and with plenty of his own unforgiving hurts that he has bouts of - ahem - unhappiness that affects all those within hearing distance. Since taking a sledgehammer to him is not socially acceptable - and quite illegal - I have to forgive him over and over and over again. And over again.

My goal is to be able to take that onion and put it in a food processor and be done with it. Just like I need to be strong and save up money to afford that nice, shiny, expensive food processor, I need to be strong and determined to forgive those who, whether knowingly or not, have hurt me PDQ.

Now there are many, many situations I have not experienced, and I'm most definitely not saying I could forgive anybody anything - just ask my husband what I would do to him if he ever cheated. I'm just saying that even if I got to the food processor stage of my life, an onion might very well come along that won't fit. I'll curse and scream and argue and weep. I may even throw that onion against the wall, stomp on it, or simply turn my back on it. I do hope that I won't ignore it forever. That I'll have the strength and will to tackle that multi-layered bulb, even if it means starting at the beginning. Why?

Because I just found this really interesting recipe that calls for one, large onion to be caramelized.