Why Self-Care Gets Such a Bad Rep

Recently, I had the opportunity to go hear someone speak on the topic of managing change. What it turned out to be was a sermon on self-care. It started off fine: "Let go of the things over which you have no control."

And then, it got ugly. 

If the presenter hadn't been so patronizing, and so obviously skewed to promoting her own agenda, I might have enjoyed the content of the presentation. However, having learned through experience and therapy to do the very things I heard this person talking about, I found the way it was put forth to be an insult to my intelligence. It cheapened all the valuable lessons I had learned in my healing process and reduced them to pithy little platitudes that implied that the reason why people were having a difficult time with change was that they had a bad attitude. She was, in essence, blaming the victim.

See the glass half-full." I couldn't believe my ears. "Choose to be happy. Smile. Be an optimist. Embrace change."

Excuse me? Even if change is ushered in at the hands of brutal people who care nothing about my situation but more about their career advancement, their political futures or their fat pensions? 

If I've learned anything in the last four years in recovery, it's that it is okay, and yes, even appropriate, to respond to injustice ... with anger. Anger motivates; anger - if harnessed properly - can produce positive change.  Need proof? The suffragettes, the Boston Tea Party, the American Revolutionary War, the Human Rights Declaration ... the list goes on.

The kind of change management proposed by this individual was the "lay down and accept change to the point of letting the machinery chew you up and spit you out." 

This is partly what gives self-care proponents a bad reputation. (The other side, equally extreme, is the "I'm going to take care of my self and the rest of you people don't matter, so just go jump in the lake" attitude - just as damaging.) 

The photo "Mirror" courtesy of Arvind Balaraman
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

The extreme that these folks go to, though, is passivity - something that the ancient Greeks called stoicism. It's a "Hakuna Matata" mentality - bad things happen and there's nothing you can do about it, so just throw up your hands and give up; tell yourself that it's not so terrible, and spout positive confessions that fly in the face of the truth. Never mind that it's wrong. Never mind that people are getting hurt. No, it's not your responsibility. Just sit down by the river, take deep breaths, and strum Kum Ba Yah. And don't forget to smile.

Even if your heart is breaking. 

The allure of this kind of thinking is that it perpetuates the illusion that all is well, and that you have some control over what is happening by denying its existence. Stick your head in the sand. Pretend there's no problem. 

Poppycock.

The problem is that there IS a problem. Denying it - whatever it is - is not going to make it go away. 

As a matter of fact, it's lying - to the self. And the body takes a really dim view of that kind of deception. It will exact payment: stress-related illnesses, for example. Cancer, irritable bowel syndrome, fibromyalgia, ulcers, chronic fatigue syndrome, migraines, high blood pressure, heart disease ... the list goes on.

Self-care involves letting go, yes. However, it also involves setting boundaries ... and enforcing them. It is about choosing to be happy, but it doesn't ignore or suppress emotions as they occur, and it is not ashamed to show them. There is a balance between the two extremes; that balance is self-care, and the extremes ... aren't. Self-care requires honesty with oneself, openness to explore new things, and willingness to do whatever it takes (even if it's hard) to be free. 

Why self-care gets such a bad reputation is that self-care is portrayed - and pursued - in a one-sided manner. When it's balanced, healing can take place. 

Putting me on

"You're putting me on."

No, I'm putting me on.

Some time ago, I heard someone make a required phone call to another person.  The tone was friendly, open, sincere, and would have put the other person completely at ease.  The caller obtained the required information easily, effortlessly.  I would have thought that they were old friends.  

What the other person didn't hear, though, was the tone of voice and the choice of words that came out of the caller's mouth as soon as the call ended and both parties hung up.  It conveyed disgust and contempt for the person who'd been at the other end.

Here's where I got this photo

I can't say anything in judgment.  I've done it - lots of times.  Sometimes we have to talk to people whose company we don't particularly care for - and we have to be civil to these people, for the sake of politeness or social norms.  Especially in situations like a businessman talking to a potential client, or a sales clerk talking to a customer. There's a mask of civility that we wear when we need to. We put it on - and when we're done, we take it off as soon as possible and confirm to ourselves that we didn't enjoy the experience.  I'm not so sure that it's wrong.  But I am sure that it's human.  

But when the other person is consistently crossing a boundary, belittling us or using us, it's time to take off that mask of geniality and let the other person know that he or she has crossed the line.  

For me, that's the time when, instead of putting a mask on, it's time to put ME on.  The real me. 

I've discovered something as I do this.  The more I put me on, the less I want to put on the mask.  I like the me that I'm becoming - and I don't want to be the doormat, the pushover I used to be, the one who strove for the least amount of splash upon entry, the one who hated making waves, the one who just wanted to disappear.  Putting on the mask becomes a distasteful task.  

Sometimes putting on that facade is necessary.  Sometimes.  But a repeated pattern of that kind of behavior can make me practiced in hypocrisy - I can so easily 'put it on' and 'take it off.'  It kind of scares - and almost sickens - me.  That's one reason I hesitate to engage in it.  I'd far rather be totally honest.  

When it bothers me the most is when I am in a situation where I believe that I am in a safe place - and all of a sudden I realize that I'm not - and that I need to put 'em on - let 'em think I'm behaving the way "they" want me to - so I can get away unscathed, unjudged.  Whoever "they" are.  Someone who calls himself my friend, for example.  Or perhaps at church.  Maybe even when visiting family.  Or at work.  

What a joy to realize when I really AM in a safe place, with trustworthy people, people who accept me for who I am and who don't judge.  There are a few such people in my life.  I appreciate their friendship - and their company - SO much!  

When I first started this new way of living and came across the expression, "rigorous honesty"... I thought that it meant with others.  It does - to a point.  But what I've come to understand is that it refers primarily to relationship with God, and with myself.  If I can't be truthful with myself, and with my Maker, I am SUNK.  The fact that I sometimes don't share EVERY little thing with someone else tells me that I'm learning who is trustworthy and who is not.  I can trust those that are trustworthy.  It's okay NOT to trust those that aren't, and learning who isn't trustworthy can only be done by trial and error. 

LOTS of error.

Of course, I try my best not to lie, even to those that I don't necessarily trust with my feelings.  I will answer truthfully, but ... briefly.  I've learned not to elaborate and give people ammunition to use against me later, even if they think that it's 'helping' by sharing something I've said in confidence.  

And I SO look forward to the times when I spend time with people I trust, so that I can put ME on.

Saying it

I was talking last night with someone very dear to me - got a text from him, and then called him on the phone and spent nearly 2 hours with him.  He needed to talk and he needed someone to listen who wouldn't judge him.  As he poured out his heart and his frustrations about being condemned for being different from family members and the members of their social group, I realized that there are people in this world who will never quite understand that if someone believes or behaves differently from the accepted norm, it doesn't mean that person is a bad person.  

It means that he/she is different.  

And I also realized that such "poison people" believe what they want to believe because they have their minds made up already - and if we don't tell them what our truth is, they'll fill in the blanks themselves based on what motives they have previously attributed to us (and that's not going to change, ever).  And they'll get it wrong, every time. If we continue to not tell them, to not set the record straight, they'll assume that their version of events is correct - and spread their perception of us far and wide.  (Um ... I think that's called "backbiting."  Maybe even "slander.")

I've been guilty of spreading such poison in my life ... and of late, I've been guilty of not setting the record straight with those in my life who have filled in the blanks and have spread their poison so far and wide that I am "persona non grata" (person without a status) in some places (places, I might add, where I no longer wish to go - because they are there.) 

Judged.  Condemned.  Executed.  Just for speaking the truth.  Just for trying to help someone who might want to be helped.  Yes, I'm talking about what I tried to do when I wrote and published Get Unwrapped! ... and the people of whom I am speaking are the very people who should have supported me - but never have.  I've mentioned their vitriolic reaction before on this blog, earlier this month.

I used to care what those people thought of me.  I used to.  Then I saw them - really SAW them for the first time, without the rose-colored glasses they thrust upon me from my birth - SAW them treat the man I was talking to last night like the scum of the earth just because ... well it doesn't matter about the because. Let's just say he isn't a 'clone' of them.

Thank God.

The whole experience showed me that I didn't want to continue subjecting myself or my husband or children to that kind of self-righteous, hypocritical garbage any more. So I withdrew from hanging around with them.  Months ago.

What a relief that was.  For me, that is. 

They were baffled by my refusal to keep in contact.   So, they filled in the blanks about me, too. (I suspect that this activity began even before I broke contact.)  

Their answers/guesses haven't been very pretty, and (naturally, to make them appear saintly and me, villainous) they have painted me in the worst possible light.  I know they're 'projecting' - a psychological term that means to attribute to others a motive that is actually hidden in one's self.  In other words, they say I'm vindictive because they are vindictive; it's what they do without even realizing it.  Yet they don't want to admit that they're vindictive - so they accuse me of it.  It's how they get to sleep at night. 

I've decided to give them the answers that should have gone into those blanks they filled in. Of course they'll continue to believe what they want to believe, just like always - and it will change nothing in how they behave toward me - or toward the man I spoke with last evening.  But the right answers will be out there.  I'll have spoken up.  I'll have said it.

"Saying it" has always been taboo.  We didn't talk about the elephant in the room even if he WAS standing on our toes.  It just wasn't done!  And if someone committed the cardinal sin of even saying that there WAS an elephant (never mind in the room!) that person would be taken out and (emotionally) executed: crucified, so to speak - a slow, sadistic, and painful death in front of as many people as possible. And the executioners would feel perfectly justified in their actions - because for them, the illusion of perfection is preferable to the reality of brokenness, after all. ("What would people think?" prevents so many from getting the help they so desperately need.)  When I wrote my book, I exposed the elephant. They couldn't get past the fact that I had the gall to do that, so as to see the wonderful reality and healing that came of my brokenness. And so, they have been nailing me to the cross of their self-righteousness.

So if I'm going to be condemned to such a fate anyway - it might as well be for the right reasons.

Not That Strong

Someone said something to me this morning while we were discussing how other people's assumptions can really hurt.  

This person mentioned a scene from the  M*A*S*H series - M*A*S*H being a long-time favorite of mine. In particular, there was this one scene that involved Major Margaret Houlihan.  Her nurses were constantly breaking regulations, going behind her back, and not being honest with her.  Finally when she caught them in a huge deception, she was angry and they were defensive - and the truth came out.  She felt excluded.  And they made the assumption that she would not want to be included.  And ... it hurt.  And ... she cried.  Tough as she was, she was still human and it hurt that others were labeling her and shutting her out.  The person I was talking to said, "That's you."  



It hit home.  In one particular sphere of influence, it has been a long-standing source of sadness for me that I've not even been thought of in a certain capacity, that others who have less experience than I do have been parachuted into something I've wanted to do for a long time, over and over again.  They have become the new darlings, a seemingly endless string of them, while I do what I do - and quite well - behind the scenes. Not that they are not qualified; they are.  But so am I - and nobody seems to have noticed, thinking that I would not even be interested because, after all, all I've ever done is that one thing.  Maybe it's because I'm not in the accepted social groups; maybe it's because I'm not interested in the same things as others; maybe it's because I detest playing the political game and prostituting myself to the powers that be.  For whatever reason, the result is the same.  Passed over, rejected, ignored, excluded. 

And it hurts. 

It's supposed to hurt.

Vulnerability.  I've heard it condemned as a weakness.  I've heard people try to denounce the experience of emotion - especially what they call "negative" emotion - as something to be avoided, not trusted, and somehow evil.  

I have a different take on that.  I believe that - as uncomfortable and unpleasant as so-called negative emotions are - they are God-given (otherwise, why would we be hard-wired with them?)  To deny them, to suppress them or to try to get rid of them, is doing a disservice to the human spirit.  They were created as temporary spiritual states designed specifically to be an early-warning system to alert us to dangerous situations: boundaries being crossed, injustice, manipulation, and abuse.  Not trusting our emotions can lead us into succumbing to these undesirable conditions, or allow us to remain there way too long.  Listening to our feelings can help us to figure out what the real problem is, why it is, and what our part (if any) is in allowing the situation to develop.  

And listening to the negative ones - and allowing them to help us look after ourselves - allows us the capacity to experience the not-so-unpleasant emotions.  You see, if we shove down or cut off our "negative" emotions, our psyches don't distinguish between bad and good - so it shuts them ALL down. This leaves us emotionally stunted, unable to experience joy, compassion, or love.  

So ... I would rather be hurt - and know it - than to deny my feelings and shut myself off from working through the injury and being healed from it.

Phostered Phonies

The culture we live in discourages certain behaviors and encourages others based on what it thinks and / or believes is important.  It's not just endemic to one particular subculture or social group, it's pandemic across our entire culture to treat certain actions as laudable and others as lousy - and some of them literally make no sense to me.  To my way of thinking, some actions that are commonly praised need to be exposed and deplored; some which are discouraged need to be re-examined and considered carefully as models upon which to base our interactions with each other. 

In today's culture, for example, in response to a simple question, "How are you?" the answer "Great!" is encouraged - even if you're dying inside.  The answer "Lousy," though honest (which is the goal, right?) is criticized as undesirable, a "downer." Or in the church setting, "not speaking in faith." Even the response, "Okay," is suspect.  ("Just okay?  You should be joyful! deliriously happy! Great!") So I've started to compile a list of some of the more commonly accepted / condoned practices, those ones which foster dysfunctional relationships, phoniness, and judgment, and which reject healthy relationships, honesty, and acceptance.  

1. Segregation.  Oops, I mean mens' (or ladies') groups and/or getaways.  Church is notorious for these. While paying lip service to marriage and family, these groups /events can foster the exact thing that they claim they are trying to avoid.  "Spend more time paying attention to your wives, men. And to help you do that, we're going to get you to leave them at home for three days straight while you hang out with each other and 'bond.' Yeah, golf to your heart's content, spend the family finances on a hotel bill and green fees, and don't be there with your wives and families the only time in the week that you get to spend with them."  Same thing with ladies' groups - also known as women's retreats.  "Okay, ladies... here's how to save your marriages. Rob your men of the joy of sleeping in with you on the one day they can do so per week, so you can go grouse about them behind their backs with a bunch of girls, get fifty-dollar facials ... and play slumber party."   I just don't get it. Then again, I've never been big on girly-girl stuff.  But I digress.  I'd prefer to see "couple's retreats" or "family retreats." Wouldn't that be radical.
   
   
2. Manipulation.  Oh, come on. This is HUGE!!  Everything from "come to the social gathering, there'll be free food" to "oh, he won't mind. All I gotta do is look at him and bat my eyes and say 'please' with a little pout.  He'll come around" to the classic guilt trip mothers give about all those hours of labour and how the child somehow "owes" them for that. It's everywhere!! Control the other guy through manipulation.  Or intimidation.  (Such as implying that someone is not a good wife/mother/husband/father/son/daughter/friend if that person doesn't do a specific action that is all the rage, like oh, I dunno, go to church every time the doors are open, or watching a certain movie that "everyone" is watching). 
   
   
3. Sexism.  Yes, you heard me!! I hear it all the time.  "All men are lazy messy pigs."   (Uh, no they're not.) Or "All blonde [or pretty] women are dumb."  (uh, beg pardon, but ... NO.)  And the most intricate of mental yoga moves (i.e., twisting the mind into a pretzel shape) to account for the many MANY exceptions to whatever sexist rule we hear and believe (really? after all this time?)  ....one of those pretzel moves I heard recently was the "80/20 rule."  I couldn't believe my ears.  That is (giving the example of men and untidiness) 80% of men are slobs and 20% are not, whereas 80% of women are neat freaks and 20% aren't.  Hm.  It doesn't wash with me.  I happen to believe that people are people - - you know, human beings.  Gender - or should I say hormone level - does determine a tendency to do certain things.  But to justify your need to grouse about the opposite gender just because your own life sucks or because you consider your own gender to be superior to the other - is kind of a giant step backward, no matter what gender you are.
   
   



Source (via Google Images):
http://vi.sualize.us/view/8c5074cff0e59aa428a3fc85cebd1c7d/
(classic manipulation through guilt)

4. Bullying. Oh, I'm not talking about the classic bullying that is so much the topic of news stories and so forth.  The kind I mean can take several forms: minimizing another's accomplishments by finding fault with them (how about stopping a conversation or reducing it to a whisper with sidelong glances when that someone comes in the room?) or even the socially acceptable practice known as "practical jokes."  (These, in my opinion, are neither funny nor practical, and if continued, can cause someone to seriously consider the ultimate escape from life.) I see it happen in all spheres of life - work, church, school, other social groups - and in every case it is seen as, "Well, that's just so-and-so.  He's/ she's harmless."  Tell that to every teen who has considered purchasing a one-way ticket to the Other Side because they never get a break from it - and they don't foresee it stopping when they graduate. Or go into the workforce. 
   
   
5. Fatalism.  The "I can't help it, it's just me" mentality can be not only defeatist, but it can be used as an excuse for inexcusable behavior.  Just saying.
   
   
   The truth is, of course, that not one person can change him or herself.  Only God can change the heart. The choice then becomes, am I willing to give it to God and give Him carte blanche to change me in this or that area? 
   
   
   If we are serious about developing relationship with God, perhaps it's time to revisit some of these areas in our own lives.  I've given my opinion on them to spark thought and reflection.  You don't have to agree with my take on things; that's not important - but if I've caused someone to pause and rethink the way he or she thinks and acts, then perhaps this post has been worth the risk.

Splitting Headache

We've all heard the stories, we've tut-tutted and shaken our heads.  We deplore it, and we wish it would not happen.  But it does.  

A friend and I were discussing the history of a particular church; I remembered how it formed back in the early 1980s, and I told the story, warts and all.  Without going into a lot of details, someone decided what constituted holiness, and said that not only must the people who held an office in the church (from secretary to deacon) be holy according to this definition, but all the members of their families had to be as well.  The organist's husband smoked. This was not deemed as holy.  Need I say more?

Churches have split over such deep doctrinal issues as the color of the hymnbooks, whether Sunday or Saturday is the day on which we should worship, even whether Adam had a belly button or not. How ridiculous!! 

This cartoon found through Google Images at
http://ponderingpastor.blogspot.com/
2010_05_01_archive.html

The problem with a church split (and let's face it, they are bound to happen because they contain the one thing that causes them - people!) is that it doesn't actually split.  A split implies that half the people stay in the original church and half go to form a new one.  What really happens is that about 30 percent of the people stay in the old church, 15 to 20 percent form the new one - and half or more don't go to church anymore at all.  This last group is composed of people who are so disillusioned by the pettiness of people who are supposed to be loving and self-sacrificing.  

Moreover, at least three times the population of the church - who hear about the split (usually from the disillusioned ones) and have never gone to church (any church) - are people we will never see inside the doors, for they are all the more convinced than ever that Christianity is for weaklings, bigots, and losers.  The problem is that people who are more prone to be involved in a church split still call themselves Christians - except that they have a different interpretation of what that is.  

If the folks in a church have gotten to the place where there is an imminent split, their faith bears about as much resemblance to Christianity as a dodo does to an eagle.  Both birds - but the former is pretty much useless ... and extinct.  And so what was once an organism has been subject to the normal vivisection that happens when it gets "organized."  It loses all traces of life.  

Fear takes over - fear of losing the purity, the passion, or the fire (which is an interesting concept - for if you fear losing the fire, it's probably already gone out. Otherwise you're too busy being on fire!)  I know people who are absolutely convinced that they have the RIGHT to sit in judgment on others with whose lifestyles or practices they do not agree, simply because they are 'seated with Christ in heavenly places.'  This is a gross distortion of all that Christ came to accomplish.  It was never His intention to have His message of love twisted into a message of paranoia and bigotry.  

Fear of people slipping and straying from the tenets of ancient Judaism led to the formation of the group known as the Pharisees.  Their one mission in life was to uphold the laws and traditions they were taught and make people follow them. And when someone (one of their own countrymen) came along who threatened that by talking about love and a personal relationship with God, they went against their own laws: paying someone to betray him, holding his trial after sunset and on the holiest day of the year when nobody was to be conducting any business at all, consorting with people they considered heathen, and bribing witnesses, to have this threat put to death.  

Religious people within the church have done the same thing ... to the same person.  I say religious people because religion is all about maintaining the status quo, dressing it up, making it pretty, doing it right to the point of shunning those who don't, keeping people in line, making the right impression, trying to twist God's arm to make Him do what you want Him to do, and doing what you've always done just because you've always done it that way.  

Christianity, on the other hand, is iconoclastic - always has been ever since oh, let's see, its founder was here!  "Iconoclastic" means it tears down the idols - idols of complacency, of hypocrisy, of spiritual correctness (if Christians were all one race, then this term "spiritual correctness" might even be called racial purity!)  It focuses on an individual relationship with God, and it celebrates the uniqueness of every individual rather than building an empire of people who all agree with each other, look the same, and act the same through what can only be described as bullying. Strange that so many religious leaders can get away with that, and so much more: shoving their fingers in someone's face and calling him or her to the lowest (in front of fellow church-members, no less) because of a perceived "difference" in either focus, approach, interpretation, or belief. They have no qualms about using guilt, shame, and intimidation to keep people all believing a certain way and they try to eliminate all who don't.  One of the last times a political leader tried to do that, the world plunged into war; it was 1939.  

But unfortunately, nobody in the church stands up to stop it; those few voices who do object are ostracized or drowned out in the zeal of the polarized groups that emerge.  So those who get in a huff about the far-reaching implications of choosing blue hymn books over red (yes, this actually happened, several years ago in a different country) will "up and leave" over such things, start another church, and leave hundreds of casualties, Christian and non-Christian alike, in its wake.  

It's enough to give the Head of the church (that is, the one preparing a place for us in Heaven) a splitting headache.

The genuine article

Lately I've been fighting a battle of identity.  My account at facebook was made the subject of (as far as I can tell) a shape-shifter who goes from account to account posing as someone's friend (by stealing that profile pic) and getting the person to confirm a friend request.  Then he or she assumes that person's identity and does the same thing.  They do it to phish for email addresses and to send the individuals involved scams (like go to such and such website cuz they're giving away money...) 

from
http://www.underconsideration.com/speakup/archives/002094.html

Scary.

Some folks gave me some feedback on how they knew which person was the real me.  My daughter said she saw herself listed on my wall as my daughter.  Not on the impostor's.  Others knew me well enough to know the difference.  Which makes sense of course.  People who work in banks are trained to spot a counterfeit not by studying all the tricks of counterfeiters but by studying the real article, being familiar with real money so that they can spot a fake!  

It's that way with everything.  Knowing what's real protects against the fake.  However, if you've never known the real thing, you don't know you're using a counterfeit until the real thing actually really does come along.  This is true in money, honesty, integrity, love, faith, hope, and relationship with people - including God, yourself, and others.  But once you've experienced the genuine article, the counterfeit looks more and more second-rate.  And you wouldn't ever go back to the way things were.

I sure wouldn't.

Making Face Time

One night, not long ago, I looked up from my computer and noticed that there were two other people in my family in the same room, each at his or her computer. At one point we were all on facebook.  At the same time.  Yet we spoke not a word to each other. 

Hm.

I seem to remember one morning being asked by my husband to find another spot for my computer because it stole time away from him that he wanted to spend with me. He looked forward to the times we would talk over breakfast, and when I was sitting there checking my emails, all he was able to get from me was a non-committal, "Hm?"


So I moved my preferred screened communication device to the living room. And now this.


Someone reminded me of this today by mentioning how the social media are rewriting our norms surrounding what is "sociable" and what isn't.  And I started to wonder whatever happened to "face time."  (No, not the software.)

One-on-one conversation.  Talking about important things.  Spending time just enjoying each others' company.  

I was wracking my brain last night trying to think of how to spend our 30th wedding anniversary, which is coming up in a couple of weeks or so.  I weighed the merits of this place versus that place, of this activity versus that.  And then it hit me.  We don't have to have an "activity" or a "retreat" to spend quality time together.  We just need to spend time with each other.  So, we decided to do just that - I will take a couple of vacation days surrounding our anniversary, and we can keep our daily commitments for driving our oldest to and from college, and in the meantime just spend time together without burying ourselves in electronic devices or wearing ourselves out with a jam-packed itinerary.  Reconnect.  Enjoy the other person's company.  Do things WE like to do.

It's a start.  :D

Awkward!

Okay - this is a rant.  Just sayin'.

I was just reading a fellow-blogger's post at "Daughter of Abba" and it really made me think.  She was talking about how she loves God but hates church.  I'm glad someone was honest enough to say how many of us church-goers feel.

My hat goes off to her.  (Among other things) she calls church members, pastors, and other people in leadership on:
 - favoritism
- hypocrisy
- elitism / cliques
- judgmental attitudes
- guilt trips
- exclusion

And she's right.  Church people are notorious for all of those things and more.  It's why the world looks at things like whassisname's prediction about the Rapture taking place on May 21, 2011 and (when that prediction failed) the world still going to end on October 21, 2011 ... and they laugh their heads off.  I don't blame them.  I would too, if it weren't so tragic.  Okay - so I laughed - for a while. 


The truth is, I always feel so awkward at church, and frankly, I've been embarrassed to admit to the people I work with that I go at all.  

I love God, and yet His people drive me nuts! ... majoring on minors, going off on this tangent or that one (okay, so I do that too), boycotting this or that, protesting something else, and all the while judging those who don't line up with their perfect version of how life should be lived.  (I think everyone knows how I feel about that word "should.")  Most of the time I feel like the rest of the cookie dough that gets tossed aside after someone cuts out the cookies.  I don't fit, and sometimes I feel discarded.  Judged.  Minimized.

I hate it when church people / leaders try to "legislate" friendliness, "dictate" love, "order" people to pray for each other - when these things naturally would flow out of intimate relationship with God.  I abhor the mistaken idea that WE have to do something first, before God will do His work.  Great way to take the credit and pat ourselves on the back for twisting His arm, manipulating Him. How ludicrous is that?  Friggit - God already took the initiative on everything by starting the ball rolling with Jesus - and He gets the glory for everything because even the faith and the strength to do what He wants comes from Him. He said He was the vine and we were the branches. So I don't move until and unless He says so.  Period.  It wastes far less energy that way... and if it means that others judge me for not doing enough - fine.  I live my life for an Audience of One.

Thank you, Daughter of Abba.  Thank you for your honesty.  

I got to - really?

Okay - brothers and sisters....

I've always been the type of person that when pressured into some sort of behavior just because I "have to" - no matter how good it is, whether it's exercising or even going to see a very popular movie of which everyone says, "Oh you have just GOT to see this!"  my first reaction inside is - "No.  No I don't." 

And the more I hear that injunction that I have to do it, the less I want to - even if I started out being curious about it or thinking I might MAYbe want to do it.

The "got to's" turn me off. Completely. Even more so lately than before. I guess it's because I've "been there, done that" and now anything that smacks of coercion absolutely repulses me.

Several years back, I read a book by Tommy Tenney called, "The God Chasers".  It's a very good book and I recommend it to Christians who are tired of "playing church".  But I recommend it with a warning.

As I was reading, I looked at the way this church in Dallas, Texas was changed - a group of people who experienced what can only be described as a supernatural flood of the presence of God - so tangible that for months, people in everyday situations, like waiting in grocery store lines, were deeply affected.  Miracles were commonplace when someone who had been touched by this presence was nearby anyone in hospitals, bank lineups, etc.  

Amazing.  

But I made the classic mistake.  I compared their experience to the way our church was - doing the "same old same old" again and again, expecting different results.  Talking about wanting God's presence but never experiencing Him in a life-changing, sustainable way.  And I got very, VERY frustrated with church, church programs, and church people.  Disillusioned.  Angry.  Bitter.

It took me several years and a whole lot of trying over and over and over to try to get people to read their Bibles more, pray more, do more - with nothing to show for it but more frustration because nobody seemed to be "getting it" - before I finally realized what I was doing.  I was trying to manipulate God - manipulate His people - and coerce either Him or them to "get with the program." I was trying to control others - and the fact was that I couldn't even control myself.  The truth was, as I came to understand, that relationship with God is not a "You gotta do this" thing.  

The truth is, I was (and am) completely incapable of living the kind of life that is happy, joyous and free ... on my own efforts.  That's the whole point of the Old Testament - to show us that no matter how much we want to or try to, we cannot follow all the rules; it is humanly impossible to sustain such an externally motivated lifestyle on our own. God invites us to a relationship.  Not a contract.

If my life as a Christian is all about "I got to" then I've missed the whole point and am to be pitied above all people - because "I got to" is a miserable existence filled with slavery to expectations and obligations.  I know - I was there.

Once it stopped being about what people were or were not doing, or what I was doing or not doing, and it became about what God has already done and freely offers - accepting that and being thankful for it - then it started being not so much about an effort to love others as it was an acceptance of His love for me.  It became less about obligation and more about gratitude.  It started being less of a drudge and more of a joy.  

The last thing I need - or anyone needs for that matter - is to feel lambasted by a whole lot of guilt and shame when we go to a place that is dedicated to the worship of God. That kind of stuff (I don't know, maybe some folks get off on that kind of thing) appears to me to be just an exercise in masochism.  It's times like that when I feel like I just want to walk out in disgust.  It appeals to every single control freak out there.  I know because it once appealed to me.  Until I realized that there is no way that I can control myself, other people, or outcomes.  Until I gave up trying to be perfect.

Rather than thinking that "I got to" do anything - how about if we turn it around, realize how much He loves us, and WANT to spend time with Him? Individually? No agendas, no expectation of temporal or eternal reward, no getting all crazed and hyped up. Just Him. Just us.  Just Him and us. In intimate, one-on-one connection.

Then "I got to" (i.e., religion) falls away and drops off.  It's replaced by an inside out thing (i.e., relationship) - and soon becomes an expression of something we look forward to and enjoy: "I get to."

Faking It - Part 3

I have this recurring nightmare.

It's Sunday.  I go to church.  I'm keenly aware of my own inadequacies.  I look like myself, like I always do.  But when I walk in to the entryway and see all the people chatting before the service, something is wrong.  All the women look like Barbie dolls and all the men look like Ken dolls.  Plastic smiles abound. Blank stares.  Perfect bodies, perfect smiles, perfect clothes.

I try to get them to talk to me.  They won't.  There's no relationship, no frame of reference at all.  I look at my clothes: rumpled.  I go to the rest room and look in the mirror - yellowed teeth, acne, and greasy hair.  I want to talk to someone about real things but all I hear are perfect conversations about perfect families and perfect kids with perfect Grade Point Averages.  Nobody seems to have any problems.

I know it can't be true.  I run from perfect person to perfect person, begging them to come outside their plastic shells and talk about what's real. Surely someone can relate to my pain; surely someone is struggling too.

But all I hear are the condemning voices telling me, "That's not speaking in faith!" and then these Barbie and Ken people talk about fashions, curtains, private schools, and the stock market. They wax poetic about this conference or that speaker, this singer, that skiing trip.

All attempts at conversation about real feelings, real relationships, are met with disdain. 
 

Where AM I anyway? doesn't anyone understand what it means to connect with each other and quit faking it?

Thankfully I wake up.

I ... DID wake up.  Didn't I? or did I?

Faking It - vignette

It was 1984.  I was a waitress at a restaurant that was only open in the summer to cater to the tourist trade.  A couple of summers I worked as a waitress, one as a store clerk, and another as a circulation assistant at a library (that one I got to keep part-time for the school year).  Anyway, I digress (again.)

My husband's aunt and uncle were visiting from the States.  They were quite well off.  I had about as much in common with them as a jellyfish does with a thoroughbred.  It was one of the few days off I had which my husband also had off.  We were visiting with them at another aunt's house.  They asked me about my summer job.

I told them a story about this one customer who was so pleased that I took an interest in him and his country of origin (couldn't help it - he was Scottish and his Glaswegian accent was to DIE for!) that on a $7 order he sought me out afterward and pressed a $5 bill into my hand. "Doan tell me wife," he whispered. "She'all theenk ah gone sawft."

The incident meant a lot to me because I had never had anyone seek me out to say thank you for anything before.  My contribution to the family growing up was never enough and I never got a word of thanks from the one person from whom I longed to receive it.  So having someone acknowledge what I did for him was huge for me.  However, rich uncle and spouse were not impressed, thinking I was uncouth and mercenary. They thought it was all about the money. They missed the point entirely.  It wasn't the extra money.  It was the recognition.  They had no clue that up until that point, I was under the erroneous impression that who I was and what I did for people would always be taken for granted and that "Thank you" was something I would never receive.  I forced myself to not think about it, to not mind it... and lost myself in the process.  Part of me looking after myself (a necessary component of my recovery from doormat-itis) is to not beat up on myself for wanting to hear those 2 words every so often: thank you.  And I give thank yous as well.  Mind you, I try not to obsess about needing recognition like I once did.

I still tend to want to know if anyone is listening - which is why I do check my page hits - I guess.  It is so rewarding sometimes to open up my email and find that someone has left a comment on a post I've written. But there is a very large (majority) percentage of my psyche that would write even if I thought nobody was "out there" - because I'm a writer; I write.  That's what I do out of who I am.  I do it ... to think about things, to stay sane, to vent / rant, to express emotion, and also to acknowledge the wonderful gifts that have been given to me: freedom, friendship, faith.

Faking it - Part 2

This morning I stayed home to look after a family member who is not feeling the best.  So I started doing what I normally do when I have the opportunity - catching up on reading other people's blogs.

I found one that tells a tender story, a "God-moment" between mother and son, on "Faith Imagined" ... it's called "Receiving Mercy."  I highly recommend it because it speaks volumes about the kind of life-lessons we often miss growing up. Happily, the author of the blog seized an opportunity to not only teach that lesson but re-learn it herself.  

The hidden message many (if not most) of us get growing up is that this or that thing that we have done (and into which we have put our heart and soul) isn't "good enough."

When my oldest child was 3, she showed remarkable talent in drawing.  Her drawings looked like those of a 4-year-old.  Yet whenever she drew something she would say she hated it.  "Why?" I would ask her.  "It's very good!"  

"No it's not!" she would wail.  "I can't get it to look like it is inside me!" She had a picture in her mind which, when she tried to put it on paper, didn't turn out like she envisioned.  She didn't have the skills to make it look that way. Then she'd say the inevitable.  "I'm never going to draw anything ever again!"

And I would sit beside her and tell her, "You're learning.  Everyone needs practice to do something well.  Your drawings are very good for the age that you are.  I bet if you just keep it up, they will get better.  You'll see."  

Shy eyes would look up at me and a glimmer of hope would be rekindled. "You really think so?" she would say, almost in a whisper.

That same theme would be repeated as she got better and her concept of perfection grew as she did.  "Agghhh!" I heard her yell from her room one day. When I asked her what was the matter, she said, "I can never get the HANDS right!" (This was about 8 or 9 years later...) 

"Keep at it honey.  Use your own hand as a model if you like...just to get more practice.  You'll get it!"  And she did.

Since I had been told so many times in my youth that what I did wasn't good enough, because it wasn't the way my mom did it, I tried not to pass that on to my kids.  I remember all too well being criticized and compared to the "doer" my mom was when she was a child ("When I was six years old I stood on the chair and did the dishes so my mother wouldn't have to do them.") Ugh.  I rolled my eyes internally when she started down that road.  She was a Martha, I was more of a Mary (doing versus being).  After so much criticism, I got tired of faking it, and just gave up trying to please her.  So I hid in the bathroom when it came time to do the dishes or some other chore she'd only tell me I was doing wrong because it wasn't like she would do it.  The bathroom was the only place I could go where she wouldn't tell me I was doing something wrong, I guess.

But even with that, I ended up trying to make my kids into perfect little carbon copies of myself when it came to matters of faith, taste in TV programs and music, and other things I considered dangerous - and the more I tried, the less like me they became!  (That's a whole other blog post, one I'll save for another time).  

She calls this one "Family Man."

Back to my story.  

She persevered - is completely self-taught. Today she is somewhat of a celebrity in her circle of friends.  Even her "doodles" are sought-after. I have several of them on my wall at work; people sometimes ask me about them.  I am so very grateful that God allowed me to play just a very small role in encouraging her to develop her natural talent.


How is this story about "faking it?" 


I can't count the number of dreams in my life and the lives of those I love - dreams that have been stifled and/or subjugated because of perfectionism and a refusal to practice self-care, from a fear of really living instead of just being alive. These core beliefs about our own worth come primarily from things we hear from others about the value of what we do, and the value of who we are (including the lack of any kind of message, which will tend to lead toward the belief, "I'm a nothing.  I'm a nobody.  Nobody even cares.") They tell us that our dreams, our longings, don't matter.  They tell us that we may as well just settle for what our parents had.  They tell us that we couldn't possibly aspire to be more, to do more.  


They are lies. 

They kill creativity, suffocate the soul, and crush the spirit. They rob our identity from us.

They are so very hard to counter.  But it is possible.  We do it by telling ourselves the truth - over and over and over again.  We ARE worth it.  We DO matter.  We CAN make a valuable contribution.  We are NOT what we do.  We are more than what we have become while trying to survive life.  We CAN start to really live.  We DON'T have to be perfect.  We are ALLOWED to make mistakes - and learn from them.  We DO have the right to occupy space in this world.  We do not NEED to fix other people's problems for them.  We CAN have a life of our own, feelings of our own, dreams of our own.  We DON'T need to fake it anymore.