“Sorry” really does seem to be one of the hardest words for many of us to achieve.

This received wisdom from Bernie Taupin – Elton John’s longtime lyricist – comes to us all the way from 1976. People were apologising in song before that, and they continue to do so to this day. David Rudder took the liberty of apologising to all of Haiti.

That’s not the amazing part. That he was bold enough to do so on behalf of the region, perhaps the world, is what’s truly magnificent.

The fact that there are so many songs that try to create the space for genuine expressions of regret and the desire to right the wrong reaffirms my belief that musicians are a more evolved species.

Apologies are a big deal for me. I’ve written about it before and expect I will keep on doing it.

In this incarnation, I’ve been thinking about the act as a type of therapy. It’s a rare thing that has healing potential for both the wounded and the wounder. Perhaps that is why it is so powerful. Every day, we can be hurt in an abundance of ways. When we feel slighted, insulted, broken, we can feel desperate for a way to make the pain go away. When we inflict harm, we can also be cut by the realisation of what we did to someone else.

This is where so much of the trouble lies. Once we get to layers of who-has-been-hurt-how, we lose the straightforwardness of making amends.

In a simple situation, you (literally, not metaphorically) step on my foot. You apologise. I see your clumsiness was not intentional and accept your words of regret.

Metaphorically, I have been stepped on, and when I brought my injured paw to the attention of the stepper, I was met not with apology – but with indignation. How dare I show my bruises? It hurt the stepper that I would see and show her in this light. She did not step on me. My foot got caught under hers.

So we add insult to injury, and I come to one of the most useful terms in my vocabulary: wrong and strong.

For an apology to be meaningful, the nature of the hurt must be acknowledged. But a lot of people have trouble with that. To be wrong, to have brought yourself under scrutiny and judged in an ungood way, is not to be tolerated. We need to take our licks just so, just so, and trundle on like nothing happened.

But really, what fresh hell? What happens next? Is the world simply divided into people who can hurt and people who have to accept it?

Or – and here’s the thing – are we all walking wounded? I’m sure the person who hurt me has herself been hurt.

I am an over-apologiser. (You have to be good at something.) I will crawl through glass if that’s what it will take to earn your forgiveness.

No one needs to be quite as pathetic as this, but when you know you’ve hurt someone’s feelings or anything else they have, you say you’re sorry. You should say it because you are aware that you have caused pain, inconvenience, loss – anything that equates to some suffering to another.

This cannot undo what was done, but for many of us, this is the start of healing. Maybe you can have a conversation and all