"It is a good thing to learn the truth one's self. To first believe with all your heart, and then not to believe, is good, too. It fattens the emotions and makes them to stretch." -A Tree Grows In Brooklyn.
Questioning all of life, from my evangelical protestant upbringing to the hairs under my armpits.
When all the day's tarrying toil melts into the sea of sheets
She is the peace in the morning
When the soft sunlight nudges me into wakefulness
She is the kiss on the forehead
When I do something hard for the first time and make it through
She is the steady presence
That never once failed to meet me where I am
She is the open door
When the rest of the world has shut me out for the night
Her welcoming light wraps me up
In the most nonjudgmental folds of sweet, sweet love
She is the laughter that picks me up
When I've fallen into puddles of embarrassment
And she sheds her coat without hesitation
To dry me off
And restore my beauty
She speaks to me in the pew
Surrounded by my fellow broken family
And she smiles as we stumble over old hymn lyrics
Peering into each of our aching hearts and joining our chorus of pain and ambition
Infusing our timid voices with harmonies of hope
She is the giver of the perfect song
To help me out of a depressed slump
She is the blanket in my closet
When the depression stays a while
I hide in her patterned arms
And she doesn't make me feel dirty
Or unwhole
Or pathetic
Or low
When I can't find the strength
To meet the day
She is grace from the trees
When the white petals of new spring blossoms float around
She is in the breeze
As those petals take home on my eyelashes
As they meet the ground beneath my feet
She is the grace in the evening
The flame that takes the candle wick
And accompanies me through the loneliness
She is all the controversial statements that the rest of the world runs from because she isn't afraid to challenge my small human perception of this one life I get to live
Such a reaction is intrinsic in humans for survival. Today, however, this intrinsic reaction translates differently, as our world is no longer threatening us with the same things (i.e. saber tooth tigers back then vs. arguments today, mentioned in link below). I've been recently wanting to apply this term to my inner world, to the survival of my psyche. (Oooo, so spiritual....*wiggles fingers like magic*). But on a serious note, I'm not the first to do so. A quick Google search led me here, to this page on one person's view of the "fight-or-flight response." This quote stuck out to me the most:
"In most cases today, once our fight or flight response is activated, we cannot flee. We cannot fight. We cannot physically run from our perceived threats. When we are faced with modern day, saber tooth tigers, we have to sit in our office and "control ourselves." We have to sit in traffic and "deal with it." We have to wait until the bank opens to "handle" the bounced check. In short, many of the major stresses today trigger the full activation of our fight or flight response, causing us to become aggressive, hypervigilant and over-reactive."
As I'm trying to work this out in my brain, and as I parallel all of this to my "soul," it seems to be all the same and connected. When my inner world feels threatened, my soul prepares itself to fight or flee. Really though, I've been fighting to flee. Vulnerability. Let's pop in more to read, this time synonyms of vulnerable:
vulnerable. Thesaurus.com. Roget's 21st Century Thesaurus, Third Edition. Philip Lief Group 2009.http://www.thesaurus.com/browse/vulnerable (accessed: February 24, 2016).
BOOM. Exposed, unsafe, weak, susceptible, naked, tender, out on a limb, unguarded, wide open. Feel that shiver down your spine? Yeah, me too. When I am feeling vulnerable or when I am at a crossroads and choosing vulnerability is one of the options, I run the opposite direction faster than light. I'm a runner. I don't even know what it's like to fight through vulnerability, or if that's even the better option, or whatever. I just flee. Bye Felicia on that shit.
So here I am blogging about it. Because I know I'm not alone. And I know I can't run forever. To put how I feel into other words, this song may help do the trick:
Scarlet by Brooke Fraser(It was interesting to look up other people's ideas of song meanings. Whether or not there is an explicitly laid out song meaning, here is mine):
Middle of nowhere / Finally you can breathe / Nobody knows your name / It's easier
This is one of the best feelings of running away. When I'm far, I can breathe and remain unknown. And yes, it's quite easier. So easy to run.
Shut your eyes tightly / Clench your fists 'til they almost bleed / Cautiously, lightly / Gently expose what's underneath
But even when I'm far away and in hiding, I'm still not free from my vulnerability. It follows me, never letting go until I give it attention. I get angry at the feelings of vulnerability. I fight. Clench my fists. Yet it does not remain hidden to me.
And all you feel now / Is the scarlet in the day / Even if it's real / You can't stay...
For me, at this moment, the scarlet in the day is the truth of pain. The truth that I can't stay the same as I always have been, at least in the sense that I don't want to. And so, even if this scarlet feeling of vulnerability is real, I can't stay here. I have to move out of it.
[Chorus] So there you go / You're gone for good/ There you go / You're gone for good
So there I go. I'm gone for good. To me this means I've chosen whether or not to take my weaknesses head on. I can be gone for good, as in I'm choosing to stay hidden. Not tell anyone. Repress the pain and weakness. Or I can be gone for good from being hidden. I can finally leave my hiding place and open up to the world. To someone besides myself. At this point, it's my choice.
Your mind is swollen / From months of thought without release / They've taken their toll on you / And this very moment / Of timid and fragile honesty / Is precious and rare and fleeting
Talk about a great verse. I'm at a breaking point now. Timid and fragile honesty...so precious and rare and...the window for addressing it can be very small sometimes. I'm freaking out. What do I do. Be weak. Hide my weakness. Shit.
And all you feel now / Is the scarlet in the day / And even if it's real / You can't stay...
Thing is, I really can't stay here. I either have to hide away again or I have to open up. Choices. Shit.
At this point, I'm reminded of this line in a letter within a book:
"Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed." -James 5:16a
I don't know the surrounding context of this line. I don't know all the implications. I don't know what exactly the therefore is drawing from. But I'm struck with the idea that healing involves community. The choice now becomes whether or not to enter into community with each conscious awareness of vulnerability. I'm starting to see that the feelings of vulnerability as experienced within a healthy community can lead to the antonyms of the word - strong, protected, safe. Perhaps they can even happen side by side, feeling safe in my weakness. But most certainly not alone.
One last quote to top this off, from the article I linked above:
"By recognizing the symptoms and signs of being in fight or flight, we can begin to take steps to handle the stress overload. There are benefits to being in fight or flight—even when the threat is only psychological rather than physical. For example, in times of emotional jeopardy, the fight or flight response can sharpen our mental acuity, thereby helping us deal decisively with issues, moving us to action. But it can also make us hypervigilant and over-reactive during times when a state of calm awareness is more productive. By learning to recognize the signals of fight or flight activation, we can avoid reacting excessively to events and fears that are not life threatening. In so doing, we can play "emotional judo" with our fight or flight response, "using" its energy to help us rather than harm us. We can borrow the beneficial effects (heightened awareness, mental acuity and the ability to tolerate excess pain) in order to change our emotional environment and deal productively with our fears, thoughts and potential dangers."
Enough said. It's time to play emotional judo. Woooooooooooo.
[Insert super deep quote here] (But really, tells self to get off my butt and start opening up) Weak is the new tough.
I'm so humbled to be a part of Baylor's Cross Cultural Ministry where they emphasize religious literacy and cultural humility in our changing world. What a swell group of people to learn from and be challenged by! After meeting some new friends who are Chinese at our gathering yesterday, I was reminded of a friend from my undergraduate university, a Chinese student who chose his English name as "Icecream." Icecream is audacious, humorous, and perhaps very wise.
About a year ago, I was at a dinner with Icecream. I remember it like a fog, where only the immediate lines on the road mark the way. I was in a very different place in life then than I am now. At that dinner, Icecream interpreted my vaguely-explained inner turmoil as so:
"I feel your brain is like Google maps. My brain is like Snapchat."
Regardless of what this could mean, it was quite an accurate snapshot of my situation at the time. I remember laughing and being grateful to laugh in that moment. A white line. And he was so right. My brain was not only Google maps, but a highly dysfunctional version that hadn't processed all the detours of reality, nor the consequential traffic of my most recent actions, nor the new roads being built.
I am appreciative of his candid Snapchat brain, even to this day, as it serves as still another white line guiding me along. Because through recalling that conversation, I have been able to re-enter that time in my past and begin to actively process all that had happened. 'Tis a slow journey, indeed.
I'm not afraid to plow through my past. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. But this Stevie Nicks lyric keeps bursting through my soul:
"Well, I've been afraid of changing 'Cause I've built my life around you"
Great song. I love the Robyn Sherwell version in the video. Every time I hear "Well, I've been afraid of changing, 'cause I've built my life around you," I keep asking myself, "What have I built my life around??" Maybe I have been afraid to approach my past because it requires humility and...letting go. So much letting go. So much grace upon myself. It's easy to just keep putting it off. I'm not afraid. The road is long.
What have I built my life around? Pleasing others? Selective ignorance? Worry? Pizza? But really, this question keeps pulling and tugging at me. What have I built my life around? A low self-esteem? Passive-aggressive behavior? Music? My eye-sight? My five senses? My family? My dreams of a perfect whatever? Bitterness? Money? Religious exclusivity? Secrets? What is holding me back from changing?
This question comes at a timely season of life. This year is my first year to consciously observe the Christian calendar, and right now we are in the season of Lent. Lent means spring or springtime. A season of new growth. Last year, this season of spring was frozen over. Any seedlings of my heart were shocked into extended hibernation. This year, this spring, is a season of redeeming last spring.
Lent - a time to reflect. There is repentance in the waters of my soul yet.
Why does it matter that I process my past? Honestly, I'd rather not carry with me unnecessary baggage. I want to process it so I can learn from it and change. So much has already changed since last spring. Yet there are many miles to go before I sleep, and I don't want to remain stagnant in this journey. I'm reminded of another thing Icecream said a year ago:
"Life is like ice cream. If you wait too long it melts."
Amen, brother. I don't want my life to melt without having been consumed by the other lives around me. I want to be enjoyed, be useful. I want to grow. I don't want to wait to start. Cross cultural ministry humbles me, and challenges me to see people outside my own cultural framework. Counseling helps me see myself in a way I simply cannot on my own. People. People show me how to love better, inspire me to work harder, serve as white lines along the way. As the sun rises on my fog, I am filled with gratitude for the man ways God has been guiding me along my journey of healing, many of which I never saw.
Oh spring. That I could but bottle you up and carry you with me all year round. But needn't I summer, winter, fall...to love you at all? So spring, run your course, and as you course through my veins, may you sustain me till we meet again.
What have you built your life around? What's causing you to fear change? What are you going to do about it?
"As sure as the sun will rise and chase away the night...his mercy will not end." -Ellie Holcomb, As Sure As the Sun
She is all the controversial statements that the rest of the world runs from because she isn't afraid to challenge my small human perception of this one life I get to live
