What is it about our desire for idols that makes us conspire to ignore the truth about people?
No fan of sports, I still poured over an article about the fall of Lance Armstrong. I think of Jerry Sandusky and those who cloaked his deeds in secrecy despite the horrible injuries to children. We want idols in our lives. We want to believe they are invincible. But these individuals are not gods. And even gods were known to be capricious. This says to me we create gods in our own image.
Even in our jaded world--or perhaps because of it--we want to believe in something bigger than ourselves. We want someone to inspire hope or greatness. Those idols become a lightning rod for all our dreams. We dare not expose the truth that they are just as human as we are. Flawed, dark, fighting their own demons. Where would that leave us?
But what is wrong with being human? Is Everyman not capable of moments of heroism, brilliance, generosity? Why do we need to attach perfection to that list? I'm struggling with this question myself. It is the inverse of the initial question, Why do I deny the truth of greatness in those who are flawed? I can hold tightly to my judgments about people who rub me the wrong way. That can obliterate in my mind anything they might possibly do for the good. Certainly there are criminal acts for which perpetrators must be answerable. Actions have consequences. But is there no way to inspire each other not only to greater deeds but also more honest deeds? Can we strive to be more honest ourselves? Can we as family members, friends, associates support each other in being more whole?
I'll be taking a break from this blog to do a silent retreat next week. I'll be spending much of that time thinking about these questions. Judgments regarding imperfection are running rampant in my brain these days. They are judgments about people in my life, which are merely a reflection of judgments about myself. It is fascinating how we play out our issues with others! But it's getting me stuck, and I hate being stuck. So while I'm deep sea diving, perhaps you'd like to think about why we tend to swing from star-struck to cynical and share your thoughts here. What would it mean not to have idols? What would it mean not to have scapegoats? And what does that mean for us individually?
Pax tecum.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Friday, August 17, 2012
Being Vulnerable to Gifts - Part 2
Wow! What a great day and a half I had at the Cape Cod Writers Conference. Imagine a place where you just walk up to people and ask, "What do you write about?" English gardens, the vegan diet, soldiering in Vietnam, poetry. Whether novice or published author, all were willing to share advice and experiences. Sadly, it was nowhere near the shoreline, but I did have an awesome cod dinner.
I knew when I went there something extraordinary would happen. It did. But not what I could have foreseen. I sat reading in the large comfortable lobby when inexplicably I ascended into a state of higher consciousness. This has happened to me twice before but under very different and very private circumstances. Here I was out in public!
I began people watching intensely. The playful exchange between a middle-aged man and his three-year-old daughter. A gorgeous woman in her 70s looking every inch turquoise blue and seaside fashionable. My heart blew open. How extraordinary all these people seemed to me, even though I knew nothing about them.
Then I saw him, the young man I came here for. Dressed modestly in a white shirt and black trousers, he politely approached the man at the registration desk and asked for something. The clerk replied, "We don't have any openings at the moment, but you can fill out our application, and maybe we'll have a job for you in a few weeks." He took the papers and looked around this bustling lobby. I smiled and silently drew him over to the empty seat at my table. Just as silently he spent the next 20 minutes filling out the form. I heard a persistent voice in my head, "You are so dearly loved. You are so dearly loved!" As a Reiki practitioner I knew simply to get out of the way and just hold the space for this love to flood through me to him. I would glance at him from time to time, but nothing seemed to divert his attention. Why he needed this gift I'll never know. But it was imperative that he receive it. With his application completed, he got up and returned it to the clerk who kindly assured him they'd keep it on file. Then he walked out.
The rest of the program was immensely helpful to me, and my acquaintance's workshop opened my mind to new ways of writing. But nothing could compare with this experience. The conference ended. The weather turned ugly. I packed up the car. It would be a stormy ride back to Connecticut. As I eased out of the parking lot into the traffic teeming with weekend tourists, I struggled to read the street signs as I made my way out of Hyannis. And then one last miracle. I saw my young man biking with a friend through these same streets, smiling and laughing with abandon. Mission accomplished apparently.
I knew when I went there something extraordinary would happen. It did. But not what I could have foreseen. I sat reading in the large comfortable lobby when inexplicably I ascended into a state of higher consciousness. This has happened to me twice before but under very different and very private circumstances. Here I was out in public!
I began people watching intensely. The playful exchange between a middle-aged man and his three-year-old daughter. A gorgeous woman in her 70s looking every inch turquoise blue and seaside fashionable. My heart blew open. How extraordinary all these people seemed to me, even though I knew nothing about them.
Then I saw him, the young man I came here for. Dressed modestly in a white shirt and black trousers, he politely approached the man at the registration desk and asked for something. The clerk replied, "We don't have any openings at the moment, but you can fill out our application, and maybe we'll have a job for you in a few weeks." He took the papers and looked around this bustling lobby. I smiled and silently drew him over to the empty seat at my table. Just as silently he spent the next 20 minutes filling out the form. I heard a persistent voice in my head, "You are so dearly loved. You are so dearly loved!" As a Reiki practitioner I knew simply to get out of the way and just hold the space for this love to flood through me to him. I would glance at him from time to time, but nothing seemed to divert his attention. Why he needed this gift I'll never know. But it was imperative that he receive it. With his application completed, he got up and returned it to the clerk who kindly assured him they'd keep it on file. Then he walked out.
The rest of the program was immensely helpful to me, and my acquaintance's workshop opened my mind to new ways of writing. But nothing could compare with this experience. The conference ended. The weather turned ugly. I packed up the car. It would be a stormy ride back to Connecticut. As I eased out of the parking lot into the traffic teeming with weekend tourists, I struggled to read the street signs as I made my way out of Hyannis. And then one last miracle. I saw my young man biking with a friend through these same streets, smiling and laughing with abandon. Mission accomplished apparently.
Pax tecum.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Being Vulnerable to Gifts
There's a line from James Taylor's, Baby Boom Baby, that I've been singing to myself a lot these days: What do I do if my dream comes true? We can spend so much time planning, worrying, and visualizing that when a long-awaited event actually happens we shrink back a step. Uh oh. Now what?
In my case I whipped out my credit card. That was hard in this time of fiscal austerity. But when the Universe handed me the gift of an opportunity, "no, thank you" was not an option. Just a couple of days before I had sent up a prayer saying, "I need things to come into my life now. I can't wait any more, and I'm tired of blocking them. I am willing to let go of all the self-imposed limitations on my life. I am open to receiving. "
Acting upon my new-found courage, I reached out to two authors I admire. We are merely acquaintances, but that was enough for me to send them my declaration that I was now pursuing a career in writing and ask for some advice. I imagined prescriptions on how many pages to write daily, the useful e newsletters. But noooooooo! Two days later I got the first gift from one author which set my world reeling. "You've got to go to writers conferences. There's one in Cape Cod next week, and I'll be there." My heart stopped for a few seconds. I have been pinching pennies for some time as I go through this evolution. I know how much conferences and hotels cost. It was madness to think I should spend $400 and drive up there. But resistance seemed like ingratitude. So I signed up for a day and a half of courses and one night in a posh conference center on the Cape. I cannot imagine what will happen when I get there, but something will. If nothing else, I'm getting some really good seafood.
The second gift was from the author who just happens to be living the life I want. I met her at a book signing and liked her instantly. She responded to my email by saying some very comforting things and giving me her phone number, encouraging me to call her when I needed help.
Reaching past my inhibitions to ask for something is hard enough. Saying "yes, thank you" is harder still because it propels me into the world at large. I'm now vulnerable to gifts! Who knows what else may befall me and how I shall have to respond? But the logical conclusion to this line of questioning is what gifts might I bear for others? Whose life might I step into at the right time in answer to their prayers with the gift they've been hoping for because I chose to step outside my own limitations? I can't wait to find out. And I promise to send postcards along the way!
Pax tecum.
Acting upon my new-found courage, I reached out to two authors I admire. We are merely acquaintances, but that was enough for me to send them my declaration that I was now pursuing a career in writing and ask for some advice. I imagined prescriptions on how many pages to write daily, the useful e newsletters. But noooooooo! Two days later I got the first gift from one author which set my world reeling. "You've got to go to writers conferences. There's one in Cape Cod next week, and I'll be there." My heart stopped for a few seconds. I have been pinching pennies for some time as I go through this evolution. I know how much conferences and hotels cost. It was madness to think I should spend $400 and drive up there. But resistance seemed like ingratitude. So I signed up for a day and a half of courses and one night in a posh conference center on the Cape. I cannot imagine what will happen when I get there, but something will. If nothing else, I'm getting some really good seafood.
The second gift was from the author who just happens to be living the life I want. I met her at a book signing and liked her instantly. She responded to my email by saying some very comforting things and giving me her phone number, encouraging me to call her when I needed help.
Reaching past my inhibitions to ask for something is hard enough. Saying "yes, thank you" is harder still because it propels me into the world at large. I'm now vulnerable to gifts! Who knows what else may befall me and how I shall have to respond? But the logical conclusion to this line of questioning is what gifts might I bear for others? Whose life might I step into at the right time in answer to their prayers with the gift they've been hoping for because I chose to step outside my own limitations? I can't wait to find out. And I promise to send postcards along the way!
Pax tecum.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Simply Complex
Only recently--that would be within the past 30 minutes--have I realized how much I love complexity despite my desire for simplicity. It struck me as I stalled on an opening for a chapter I am writing on the latter. Boy, does that drip with irony! I believe that simplicity is a virtue: things neatly put away, owning only what I need, doing things mindfully. It is refreshing to go through my day fully present, which also means I'm available to others in more civil ways.
More important is what does simplicity mean for others? Is there a universal meaning for that word? We all know people who stock up because they want to live with more economic simplicity. We can make our lives complicated trying to achieve temporal simplicity (this is why I say multitasking is not a virtue). We may want to be environmentally simple, but when shopping, do we buy the cage free eggs in the plastic carton or the organic eggs in the cardboard carton? Suddenly, simplicity is not so simple!
Maybe it comes down to this: Simplicity is sanity. If we can do what we need to do, be as we need to be, use our time, energy, and money in ways that satisfy our values at a particular moment, maybe this is as simple as it gets. And what are our values? Money in the bank? Community activism? Caring for loved ones? When we clear out the superfluous--and your definition of that will be different from mine--our values direct our lives. We have a plainer path to walk upon. If we pursue the complex--determining the best medical procedure for an illness, writing a play, crafting an economic policy--we do so with more sanity when we cut a swath through our mental space at least. Complexity is wonderful sometimes. But we need openness for the elements to float through, connect, disengage, reassemble until the right combination of knowledge, inspiration, and actions reveals itself in a perfect whole. When I clear my mind of fears and distractions, I function much better in the world. When my values are reflected in my outer world, I feel congruent. And now I just had a brain storm. Excuse me while I tap out the next chapter of my book. Thanks for listening to me. It helped a lot!Pax tecum.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)