New Canaan is a town that thrives on connection. Our schools, town events, volunteer networks, and neighborhood gatherings give life to a sense of shared purpose. But even in a place built on community, grievances accumulate. People bring old wounds—real or imagined—into conversations, into committees, into email chains, asking neighbors (and often this paper) to judge, to take sides, to carry the weight of conflicts. When this happens, innocent bystanders become unwilling participants in quarrels that have nothing to do with them. The result is quiet harm: anxiety, mistrust, and erosion of the very bonds that allow a community to flourish.
Holding onto resentment is psychologically corrosive. Research shows it increases stress, diminishes empathy, and isolates the individual who refuses to let go. The cost is not just personal. It spreads outward. Children observe it, friends feel it, neighbors experience it. Communities cannot thrive when yesterday’s quarrels become tomorrow’s controversies.
Every major moral tradition instructs release. Christianity exhorts: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Judaism teaches: “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge” Islam commands: “The recompense for an injury is an equivalent good, but whoever forgives and makes reconciliation, his reward is upon Allah.” Buddhism instructs: “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” Hindu philosophy urges: “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”
Forgiveness is not naïve. It does not excuse harm or erase accountability. It recognizes that people change and that life is too brief to be spent dragging old quarrels behind us. A neighbor who once offended may now be generous. A coworker who erred last year may now act with care. Communities, like individuals, grow. They thrive on trust, civility, and the conviction that people can improve.
Leadership in New Canaan, whether in our schools, town boards, or civic organizations, is exemplified by those who show the bigger picture. Great leaders do not hold grudges or demand that others carry them. They demonstrate through action what it means to rise above old conflicts. They model patience, respect, and generosity. By doing so, they transform ordinary interactions into lessons of moral courage. The town itself becomes the beneficiary of their example.
Asking uninvolved neighbors to take sides is corrosive. It forces the uninvolved into conflicts that are not theirs. It spreads suspicion and breeds resentment. New Canaan’s vitality depends on resisting this impulse. Forgiveness, belief in growth, and choosing kindness are not mere gestures; they are civic imperatives.
So let go. Speak kindly. Believe the best. Resist the temptation to relitigate old battles. Tend to personal wounds, yes, but do not drag the innocent into quarrels that are not theirs. In doing so, you free yourself, your neighbors, and your town. New Canaan is at its best when we act as citizens, leaders, and neighbors who understand that kindness and forgiveness strengthen the community more than any old grievance ever could.
