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Did you ever notice how easy it is to say youâre sorry as long you donât say anything more than that? If you bump into somebody, you say, âsorry,â and you go on to the next thing.
What happens if you bump into someone and you knock them over? Do you just say that youâre sorry and move on to the next thing, or do you stop and try to help? Do you feel bad that you were not more careful and you want to think about how you could be more careful in the future not to bump into people? Or do you think bumping into people is not that big a deal and he shouldnât have been knocked down so easily?
In the first example where you bumped into somebody, nothing much happened and both of you kept going. You did something, you said you were sorry. You were sorry in one dimension.
In the second example, perhaps you visited the other four dimensions of being sorry: you slowed down to see what resulted from your carelessness, what you thought about what happened, what you felt about what happened, and what you wanted as a result of what happened.
In the second example, instead of just saying, âsorry,â you said:
Oy vai, Josh, are you okay? I was walking down the street looking at my phone and I didnât even see you! Iâm so embarrassed that I was careless and Iâm sorry that I hurt you. I need to watch where Iâm going. What can I do to help you?
Do you see the five dimensions in that statement?
Oy vai, Josh, are you okay?
I want to know if youâre okay.
I was walking down the street looking at my phone and I didnât even see you!
I see (in my memory of the event) how this happened.
Iâm so embarrassed that I was careless and Iâm sorry that I hurt you.
I feel embarrassed about myself and remorse for what I did to you.
I need to watch where Iâm going.
I think I could do better next time, be more careful.
What can I do to help you?
I do offer to help you.
It is very common to say Sorry in one dimension. So common that the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) describes that usage:
Sorry: Pained at heart; distressed, sad; full of grief or sorrow.
In later use frequently in weakened sense, and often employed in the phrase, âIâm sorryâ to express mere sympathy or apology. (The Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, July 1986, Volume 2, page 2925)
Think about it. When was the last time you said Sorry and were feeling distressed, sad, or full of grief and sorrow? Thatâs what the word originally implied. Now it is usually just a hollow social courtesy.
There is a word that is used this way in Hebrew, too:
Mitztaâair: A polite expression used by someone who is refusing to do what someone else wants him to do. âI am very mitzaâair but I am not able to lend it to you.â
(Milon HaâIvri HaMalei, Yaakov Canaani, Volume 2, page 1608)
In the Oxford English-Hebrew / Hebrew-English Dictionary (Kernerman Publishing, 1995, page 465) the word âsorryâ is translated as âMitztaâair (feeling sorrow, grief, pain), mischarait (regret), mârachaim (mercy), slicha (pardon), aluv (disappointed in myself), umlal (deplorable).
The OED lists the following usages for the word Sorry:
Sorry to (have to tell you â I wish I didnât need to tell you â Iâm sorry for myself)
Sorry for (feel bad for you)
Sorry that (some circumstance is disappointing for you)
Sorry can mean any one of these things, or a combination of more than one at the same time.
But much of the time when we say Sorry it means absolutely nothing at all.
You can teach your child to say âIâm sorryâ and leave it at that. He will probably comply readily when he realizes itâs an easy way out of taking responsibility for what he did and how it affected someone else.
It is a little harder to slow down and realize what you said or did that hurt someone else, to take the responsibility for what you did, what you can do about it now, and how to do better next time.
It is much harder to express your shame, embarrassment and remorse.
What is it about shame that is so debilitating? Usually there are two things that block you from doing what you cognitively know is appropriate to do when youâre feeling ashamed.
The first thing that blocks you is that youâd be admitting that you failed at something that you thought you would do better at. Failing at something does not make you a global, permanent failure any more than succeeding at something makes you a global, permanent success. Yes, you did poorly. What is so intensely painful about saying out loud that you made a mistake? It is unpleasant, and itâs very much worth the effort.
The second thing that blocks you is the fear that you will be criticized when you admit that you did something poorly. Unfortunately, that is often the case, especially from parents towards children. But the child already knows she did poorly and your criticism is in no way helpful. What is helpful is to ask your child, âWhat could you do differently next time, how could you do better?â And then let her think about it.
Eventually, your child will say, âSorryâ and really mean it. For now, action and observation teach deeper skills. Hereâs what she can learn by not being forced to say âSorryâ:
My actions have consequences. Sometimes what I do hurts somebody else.
I can understand how someone else might be feeling.
I can do something to make it better.
I have time to understand and feel remorse.
When I do say âSorry,â I really mean it. I feel bad for what I did.
(From âItâs Okay Not to Shareâ, Heather Shumaker, page 298)
Dibbur requires prior machshavah. Teach your child what to think about before saying, âIâm sorry.â Then give him time to think.
Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting. He works with parents and educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations. He can be reached at 718-344-6575.