The Two Most Important Words? Me, Too.

This weekend has been interesting for the reading and viewing I've done in distinctly different venues, but on the same theme. The first video discussed regret. It's a human condition and we really need regret in our lives. As Kathryn Schulz says,

"If we have goals and dreams and we want to do our best, and if we love people and we don’t want to hurt them or lose them, we should feel pain when things go wrong. The point isn’t to live without any regrets, the point is to not hate ourselves for having them… We need to learn to love the flawed, imperfect things that we create, and to forgive ourselves for creating them. Regret doesn’t remind us that we did badly — it reminds us that we know we can do better.”



Regret, though, is frequently accompanied by guilt. Guilt happens to be a very protective emotion. As Brene Brown says, feelings of guilt are inversely related to such harmful activities as suicide and violence. That's not the same as shame, however. Shame is a distinctly deadly emotion. You cannot selectively numb emotion. It's like spot-reducing in dieting. It doesn't exist. Brown says that might account for the fact we are the most indebted, overweight, addicted cohort in American history. We haven't learned how to live with shame. We also haven't learned how to live with being vulnerable. To many of us, vulnerability equates to weakness.

It doesn't have to be that way. To be vulnerable means to be brave, to expose ourselves as being less than perfect, as not having the answers, being scared. I don't think it necessarily means fearless. The Latin root for courage is "heart." In Brown's research, the people who have been able to be most vulnerable are described as living whole-heartedly.

Vulnerability is the birthplace of joy, creativity, connection, loving, and belonging.


Brown says three elements must be present for shame to grow: Secrecy, Silence, and
Judgment

In this article from Kyria, the author says we're locked in to cycles of hiding and blaming. I believe these can be traced back to shame.

To the degree you hide and blame, you will ruin the very thing that you most deeply desire. To the degree that you open your heart and give to the other, particularly in the context of some of your hardest moments, you will have the opportunity to develop true and lasting intimacy.

As Brown suggests in her talks, the antidote to shame and vulnerability is compassion. She says the most important words we can express to each other are "Me, too."

Alhough I blast La Roux' "Bulletproof" from my Rockford Fosgate speakers and loudly sing "burning bridges shore to shore...", it really is the last thing in the world we should do. That is, if we want to be loved and connected to others.

Why I Can't Stay in the Moment (or The Futility of Abandoning Expectations)

"Feeling better?" My colleague asked.

"Yes," I said. "I went to Confession."

"Is that a Wednesday thing?"

I paused. Was it a Wednesday thing? Confession was something I had done weekly on nearly every day of the week over the past year. "It's a Lenten thing," I finally said.

"Is Easter done?"

"No, Lent is the period leading up to Easter. Don't you know that?"

"Why would I know that? I don't observe it. My parents raised me Buddhist."

So I sat down and talked with him about how Buddhism had held a strange magic for me following our trip to Thailand.

Buddhism still has its allure for me: the smells, the rituals, the seeking. The control of emotions when faced with loss and the establishment of boundaries to avoid becoming too attached. In my readings on Buddhism, one writer said that to attain the highest level within Buddhism, one ceased being human. I suppose if one no longer felt, that might classify as non-human, but does the definition of human neccesarily need emotions? It is interesting that a commenter on a blog that cited this article, asked, "If a human succeeds in “ceasing to desire,” as Edelman puts it, he will suffer less, but will he also lose the ability to fully enjoy?"

What a relief it would be to be able to abandon expectations, to never feel disappointment or to disappoint others.

And in Confession, one of the things I asked was when does this detachment become pathological? When does willing oneself to not feel and setting boundaries become sick and maladaptive, and not spiritual? "That's a good question," he said.

Every Miracle Has An Aftermath

The sixth Sunday after Epiphany kicked off our Lenten discussion about when bad things happen to good people. The reading from Mark 1:40-45 was the perfect lead-in. When we pray for and receive miracles, this can bring about challenges we may not have predicted or prepared for.

When the leper requested healing, Jesus gave it to him and instructed him to keep quiet. The leper didn't, and Jesus lost his anonymity. But what happened to the leper? What was his life like after being healed? What, as Paul Harvey would say, is the rest of the story?

The only story that really appeared in a Google search about the aftermath of a miracle was this one:
“I do know when I was getting better in the hospital, it was the longest period my parents didn’t fight. . . . Maybe that’s why God put me through all this pain, maybe so they would realize they couldn’t be together anymore. They’re both much happier now."

“Suppose tonight while you sleep, a miracle happens. When you awake tomorrow morning, what will you see yourself doing, thinking, or believing about yourself that will tell you a miracle has happened in your life?”

Last Sunday morning following Communion, God let me know he had been there all along. That he hadn't left me bereft. It was such a relief after a long hard year of going through the motions, of pretending everything was all right. It hasn't been easy in the days and hours since those few minutes of grace, but they're a start and they're sustaining me. He loves me and he is enough.

We're Ready for Christmas!

When I was growing up, we always bought our tree a few days before Christmas. The choice was slim, the trees were forlorn, and they exemplified the Charlie Brown experience. Later on, my dad became more "environmentally conscious" and we no longer purchased cut trees. Instead, we bought live trees that we planted in the backyard after Christmas was over.
We went to Home Depot after Anna's physical therapy appointment because of her fractured ankle in September and the Baby Blue Colorado Spruce begged to come home.

The guys who helped us load it into my Cube were surprised they could fit it inside. Then we went to Ace Hardware where all Christmas decorations were 50% off.

Our tree is truly beautiful. Drew said he heard a little boy walking on our sidewalk, "Wow, look at that!"

I guess we did good.

Happy Mother's Day Was Early

On the drive home today, Anna mentioned that one of the 4th graders looked "just like Taylor Swift, but without the curly hair." I remarked idly that I wished I were pretty, but I had to settle for brains instead.

Drew spoke up from the back seat. "You're pretty, Mom."

I said, "Thank you, Drew."

"There's no 'thank you' about it," he stated. "You're pretty, Mom."

Awww....

Becoming a Boy Scout and the First Hike (Without Mom or Dad)

Another milestone has passed: Drew transitioned from Webelo to full-fledged Boy Scout at the Blue and Gold Banquet on Sunday, 20 March. He is intent on becoming an Eagle Scout---he really looks up to the older boys in the troop. It is wonderful to see the difference in his behavior between the "puppy dog" antics of the Cub Scouts and the more serious and attentive actions within the Boy Scout troop. Don't get me wrong; he still acts like a goofball, but I can see the person he is becoming.


That ceremony marked the change in activities as well. Drew went on his first overnight hike without Mom or Dad present. Being a smaller person myself, I was very concerned about the weight of his pack and finding gear that would fit him. Everyone in the family now owns hiking boots (and if you're interested in bargains, I recommend becoming a member of REI and taking advantage of the end-of-season specials in their online outlet store). Our next project is getting our bikes tuned up.

Learning To Want The Life I Have

For those who know me, you are aware of my struggles with despair and purpose following my deployment to Kuwait. Typically, Sundays have been difficult for me, and today has been no different.

Today's lectionary readings included Psalm 121, which spoke directly to me:

1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
7 The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
8 the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

The gospel reading was from John 18: 1-11 and I was struck by Pastor Carillo's explanation of Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, took on the sins of the world to save us all. But, he did not do this without asking God, as a child petitions his father, to beg for release:

39 Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

40 Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. 41 “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

42 He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”

My study Bible comments that "Jesus did not die serenely, as many martyrs have. He was the Lamb of God bearing the penalty of the sins of the entire human race." I cannot imagine the weight of that sacrifice and I am humbled. But I have not surrendered as Jesus has. Like that stubborn two-year old, I am still telling God, "I can carry this."

Fortunately, he has surrounded me with angels. But it is still a struggle as my short-term plans involve getting through the next five minutes and my long-term plan is stringing together a bunch of short-term plans.

I did enjoy the radio selections on the way home. We listened to U2's "Mysterious Ways," then Katy Perry's "Firework." Yes, even though I still feel very much alone, God has not left me bereft.