For the sake of balance I am putting this here.
See, Jackson and I have a real problem with the idea of potential because it creates such a pressure and has such a cold front that nothing but a hurricane of emotions is sure to come of it. And then there are also people who use that word with such aplomb, like a giant Eff You to the pressure to be more than I have to be.
Vicki is one of those.
I started writing about all that confusion and it turned out so, well, helpful I just couldn't keep it from you.
We have such big plans these days... to bear such good fruit. Growing branches strong enough is tricky but not impossible thanks to folks like Vicki.
Potent
For Vicki
Her hands clench air near her heart
Like claws wrenching flesh from bone
To show me how this unraveling takes time.
It is as though her fingers are working
One strand of each:
Hope into past.
The things to recover from are still piling up
All around us even as she says
You would let them build with blocks,
Talk to them, teach them and listen.
She talked of my potential as though it
Were my best friend
And the future
Is someone to meet for coffee
I imagined I could chat and reminisce with whoever
I want
to be,
Who I am going to be
When all this unravels and I
Go along with it.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
how to
There is this awful thing we did when I was growing up in daycares. It went like this:
"She hit me!"
"Say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
There were usually three people involved. You might be thinking an adult always proctored the exchange, but that was not always the case as I remember it.
These days, in the places I work, it goes more like this:
"She smashed me."
"Are you all right?"
"She smashed me."
"Let's go talk to her."
"Did you mean to smash her?"
"Yeah, she wouldn't move when I asked her to."
"Oh, I see. When someone is in our way, we try to use our words first. So that was right. But the hard part is to go slowly and to be patient with our friends when they don't do what we asked. Look, at her face. It's telling me she is still hurting from when you smashed her body. When you're ready to go slow again you can come back out and play with her. You might even get ready to say you're sorry. But come sit with me for a few minutes to rest your body and give yourself a time out. You can tell me a story while you rest. I'd like that."
Sometimes the offender does apologize, sometimes she doesn't. When she does her friend just thanks her for apologizing, rather than giving her the vague ol' "it's okay" routine. If you have more questions about how and why it "works", when to use it, or what to do when it doesn't work just let me know.
Grownups often insert their sense of deeper injustice into situations like these, and then compensate by oversimplifying the dialogue because they've given up on confession, repentance, and much of reconciliation on a deeper level anyway.
At my house, we've been talking about being pastoral toward people we really can't handle.
We say things like, "How would you be pastoral with him?" or "I don't think I can be her friend, but I can be pastoral... right?" or "What would it take to be pastoral in this situation?"(I know there is a good chance this kind of dialogue annoys you, but we can't get enough... call it cheese ball heaven, living in fantasy, or a downright misrepresentation of dinner table conversation, but we chalk it up to a love of vocation and a return on our investment in seminary and therapy.)
And most of the time you can substitute the word compassion or even the word human for the word pastoral. I don't know that I'd advise the feint of heart to try it out... but if you're up for a little growing up then I'd say, go for it with gusto.
The real hard part is that you can't just dabble in being compassionate, human or pastoral. You've got to go big or go home when it comes to being anything (yeah, the scent of college football season is in the air--even the skinnytree abides the first day of practice). Being is a big job. You might think you could go around just sort of being, but then you start to simply do stuff, instead of really being. And, I know you're about to get lost in the philosophy-ish tone of this post, but hold on!
Insert some adjectives if you want, they may help. Try this on "You might think you could go around just sort of being, but then you start to simply do stuff, instead of really being... being anything compassionate, angry, eccentric, ________... You fill in the blank.
I don't want to mess with your interpretation of these thoughts too much so take a little break, reread that last paragraph and then read this:
I think I'm finding out that if I try to do too much stuff, I can't be anything really good. If I try to do something compassionate about a problem or person its a sort of one time deal (sure I did something--one thing--compassionate or maybe compassionately but then I find it that much harder to really be compassionate which is to have compassionate thoughts and feelings because I was too busy acting the part out there instead of in my head, in my heart.
Apologizing and receiving an apology well are the rocket science behind compassion because they are all about changing, choosing, curiosity and they allow us to rewrite the script and the story.
So here is the open letter to the folks who I'm struggling with and for.
Dear _________,
I know you* treated me like junk because people often treat you like junk.
I know I have treated you like junk too. But I really regret the nasty things I said and thought about you. And I hope it will ease your pain to know that I see how I'm hurting you and you're hurting me in return is a very understandable and human reaction.
I won't be returning to our friendship until we can get this straightened out and writing is the best way for me to do that. And even when we reconcile things will be very different. This is scary for me and I am pretty confused by my feelings, which are very strong these days.
So send word if you want because sometimes when I stop talking and writing folks they tell their friends and family I'm giving them the "silent treatment." But in my head and heart I'm just trying really hard to shut up and listen well. I'm trying to talk to myself about all that went down between us so that I won't be exposing you to more words that could cause more confusion for either of us. I figure you'll either get to a place where you are ready to say the things I need to hear. When you're ready to repent or confess or apologize, in your own way and time too I'll be all ears, I promise. And we can go from there.
Thanks,
Abigail
*Notice I didn't say, "you only treated me like shit the other day..." I do speak that way sometimes. But only when I'm scared. I'm trying to cut back and anyway to use a minimizing word would undermine the power of the shitty treatment, and offer them excuses for inexcusable behavior and neither of those is what I am trying to write about.
And then I guess I go on from there. Depression is real and comes in various stages and strengths so I'm not pretending that a letter like this won't bring it on or be cause to work harder to fend it off.
I either get on the Feelings Schedule (I'll re post it underneath to refresh your memory) and work on myself or I won't. But if I don't then I'm breaking the promise I made and that sucks for me and the offender. In fact, I don't know what I'd do if one of you just copied and pasted the letter in an email and sent it to me. I hope I'd be able to respond right away by thinking through what I am ready to confess to you, figure that out, write an honest email that says, "I'm ready to repent." And nothing else: no excuses, no reactions, no withholding behaviors, no drama or hyperbole. But that may take me a long time.
Just to put it in perspective: It has been a year since my husband of almost 7 years and I split. And though there has been healing this year I am nowhere near knowing what to confess, how to repent, or what reconciliation will mean for us.
You can go on and say the letter is controlling or manipulative or rude. You can criticize it all you want but maybe you just don't like it for the same reasons I have never written it down before today: it is a lot to deal with... and rightly so! When we hurt people there is no easy, right or graceful way out. You have to go deeper in, you have to risk, trust, slow down, be awkward and its going to hurt. It might even get messier than it already was. But not the destructive, chaotic kind of mess, more like the sewing room, the craft shack, the workbench or the potting shed.
And it is growth, creation and so it takes time.
Jackson says she and I will be friends for the rest of our lives and so I am constantly reminded that grace can be spread out over a long period of time. She refers to the way we'll have the rest of our lives to watch reruns, but it also reminds me that I will have the rest of my life to learn to be a good friend.
I guess I spend a lot of time hoping that the things I regret and want to change would match up with whatever offense hurting friends have located. Often it doesn't and won't.
For example, I've been accused of being a bitch and that is just too vague so I can't apologize for that. I've also been accused of being mean, which I most certainly am, and more than I should be, but I can't apologize for that either because its too big a part of my story... I'd need a more direct and caring call to repentance. I'd need someone to brave the windstorm of my insecurities, look at me and carefully, slowly (as should have been done when we were children) say, "You have hurt someone you love. You don't have to do something right now, but you have a choice. You can choose compassion. There is no need to be ashamed or afraid. But there is a need for you to be aware of your impact on the people around you. Practice compassion in a safe place and when you're ready to risk bigger, to be curious and forgiving, you can be compassionate with yourself and everyone else in ways you have neglected today."
I've been accused (quite recently, and harshly) of dishonesty, infidelity,unchristian behavior, chicanery, abandonment, distrusting, antisocial behavior, passing judgment, insanity, stupidity and narcissism. I've been told that therapy, marriage, a certain book, a certain spiritual practice, a better outlook on life, or a change in habits or friends would force me to change my behavior, then I'd be a better person, then I'd be worthy of forgiveness, then I'd be worthy of friendship or trust or generosity or... compassion.
I will admit it probably works that way for some people sometimes, and I will admit that if it worked that way for me, if that were good enough for me, I'd be easier to live with already!
But! I am human which means two things: 1)I'll never be able to earn your esteem, 2)I'm a part of creation and that is enough to make me worthy of compassion--even yours.
Although I am honest, faithful, willing to believe in God's goodness, generous, loyal, trusting, social, justified, sane, intelligent and self-aware when it is safe for me to be so, I cannot act in all those ways all the time--no one can. Therefore I cannot do anything to change myself so much that I would someday earn your friendship.
And what is more, I am trying real hard to stop expecting you to, too... I'm trying to stop expecting so that I can live in the grace of curiosity over the particulars as to why it is so hard for the president, the mothers, the bothers, the congressmen, flight attendants, baristas, publishers--everyone from St. Peter on down to the neighbor kids to be more of who we were made to be.
As promised: You might need this later because you probably have regrets or repentance to deal with... or maybe just because you're human.
The Feeling Schedule is a little poem I wrote last summer it is actually called
Today
Wake up
Stare at the ceiling
Refuse to get out of bed
Think of the things that make you feel
overwhelmed, angry, hateful, sad, depressive
count to ten, slowly
Roll over, yes you have to.
Think of all that you don’t have and feel pretty shitty, count to ten, or maybe twenty
But you can’t stay there
There are birds learning to fly just outside
Push away the mattress, slide out from between a blanket or sheet, stand up as tall as
you can
Lift your head, yes you have to.
Think of the people that make you feel
Loved, angry, loved, angry, loved…
Eat breakfast, watch television, pull on some clothes, socks, a hat maybe, yes you have to
Feel the soft clothes against you
Don’t worry about what it smells like, looks like or
the way they mock the shape of you and the shape the day will take.
The day is hot and wet, give in to the sweat and feel the knot in your stomach, or throat
Think of all that grows here: trees, boys, and clouds that refuse to gather and
Tell yourself that is good
And when the anxiety comes
When the hatred and fear swell like a tsunami
When the nausea and sickness threaten to engulf you
Try them on,
think of wind and rainstorms inside your body,
thunder and lightening in your veins
Think of boys racing down the slight sloped hill on skateboards
girls hoping you will call and lots of lost love
Try to think of mothers screaming in the throes of birthing pains and
Little boys with fat tears falling on scraped knees
Think of bandaids generous enough to cover new wounds
And scars covering old wounds
&
when you are alone again,
Hiding in a public bathroom stall, against the wall holding you vertical
Or in the car, put on your seat belt and let it press into your chest
Like the hand of God pressing against your lungs
so all you can do is
Stay right there
Slump down, against a wall or window and
put your hand On your head,
cover your face and cry. Let the sadness and frustration and grief
shake your shoulders, shake itself out.
The hot tears are sticky and ooze out and you have to let them out
Let them out, spit them off your lips, blow them out your nose,
Push them out, not in
Wipe them on your shirtsleeve like snail trails,
So you can see the tracks of slow moving sadness
Breathe in and out
Breathe in and out like a dog panting in the heat of your emotions
Open your mouth and lungs
and the ache will either get worse
or dissipate
If it gets worse, stay a little (one) longer, wipe away a few more tears
If it goes away, and trust me, that ache will go away eventually,
If you respect it,
Then you can go on.
&
At the end of the day when you crawl back into the bed
Just lie still
Scrunch up your nose at the stench of wrongdoing all around you
Clench your jaw and steel yourself against the nightmare you are living.
Think back on the day, the downward spiral you are riding
Jokes and drunks and all
And imagine what you would tell the one person you want to talk to most
That this is bad
this is not good
That you are so lonely and you don’t know what you are doing here and
Why did your mother fail and your father get you into this mess?
Imagine the face of a friend, tearing up, eye lashes sticking together and nose running
For you
All for you, over you, all around you
Wrap the blankets around you tight and think of the warm bodies of close friends
Next to you
On a porch, on a bench, on a beach, on the hood of a car, on a diner booth bench,
on a bar stool, on a couch,
on a hopeful day
&
think of how hard it is
to loose your innocence over again, just when you thought
you didn’t have any more innocence left to lose
think of a carpenters’ roof beams raised high above your head and let your soul lay across
think of the ancient Egyptian pylons and let self and body stand tall between them
think of Grecian columns, slant 6 engines, old growth redwoods, and tug boats
because you are stronger now and you are taking your place among them
whenever you feel this way
whenever you feel
whenever
you feel
this way
everyday.
"She hit me!"
"Say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
There were usually three people involved. You might be thinking an adult always proctored the exchange, but that was not always the case as I remember it.
These days, in the places I work, it goes more like this:
"She smashed me."
"Are you all right?"
"She smashed me."
"Let's go talk to her."
"Did you mean to smash her?"
"Yeah, she wouldn't move when I asked her to."
"Oh, I see. When someone is in our way, we try to use our words first. So that was right. But the hard part is to go slowly and to be patient with our friends when they don't do what we asked. Look, at her face. It's telling me she is still hurting from when you smashed her body. When you're ready to go slow again you can come back out and play with her. You might even get ready to say you're sorry. But come sit with me for a few minutes to rest your body and give yourself a time out. You can tell me a story while you rest. I'd like that."
Sometimes the offender does apologize, sometimes she doesn't. When she does her friend just thanks her for apologizing, rather than giving her the vague ol' "it's okay" routine. If you have more questions about how and why it "works", when to use it, or what to do when it doesn't work just let me know.
Grownups often insert their sense of deeper injustice into situations like these, and then compensate by oversimplifying the dialogue because they've given up on confession, repentance, and much of reconciliation on a deeper level anyway.
At my house, we've been talking about being pastoral toward people we really can't handle.
We say things like, "How would you be pastoral with him?" or "I don't think I can be her friend, but I can be pastoral... right?" or "What would it take to be pastoral in this situation?"(I know there is a good chance this kind of dialogue annoys you, but we can't get enough... call it cheese ball heaven, living in fantasy, or a downright misrepresentation of dinner table conversation, but we chalk it up to a love of vocation and a return on our investment in seminary and therapy.)
And most of the time you can substitute the word compassion or even the word human for the word pastoral. I don't know that I'd advise the feint of heart to try it out... but if you're up for a little growing up then I'd say, go for it with gusto.
The real hard part is that you can't just dabble in being compassionate, human or pastoral. You've got to go big or go home when it comes to being anything (yeah, the scent of college football season is in the air--even the skinnytree abides the first day of practice). Being is a big job. You might think you could go around just sort of being, but then you start to simply do stuff, instead of really being. And, I know you're about to get lost in the philosophy-ish tone of this post, but hold on!
Insert some adjectives if you want, they may help. Try this on "You might think you could go around just sort of being, but then you start to simply do stuff, instead of really being... being anything compassionate, angry, eccentric, ________... You fill in the blank.
I don't want to mess with your interpretation of these thoughts too much so take a little break, reread that last paragraph and then read this:
I think I'm finding out that if I try to do too much stuff, I can't be anything really good. If I try to do something compassionate about a problem or person its a sort of one time deal (sure I did something--one thing--compassionate or maybe compassionately but then I find it that much harder to really be compassionate which is to have compassionate thoughts and feelings because I was too busy acting the part out there instead of in my head, in my heart.
Apologizing and receiving an apology well are the rocket science behind compassion because they are all about changing, choosing, curiosity and they allow us to rewrite the script and the story.
So here is the open letter to the folks who I'm struggling with and for.
Dear _________,
I know you* treated me like junk because people often treat you like junk.
I know I have treated you like junk too. But I really regret the nasty things I said and thought about you. And I hope it will ease your pain to know that I see how I'm hurting you and you're hurting me in return is a very understandable and human reaction.
I won't be returning to our friendship until we can get this straightened out and writing is the best way for me to do that. And even when we reconcile things will be very different. This is scary for me and I am pretty confused by my feelings, which are very strong these days.
So send word if you want because sometimes when I stop talking and writing folks they tell their friends and family I'm giving them the "silent treatment." But in my head and heart I'm just trying really hard to shut up and listen well. I'm trying to talk to myself about all that went down between us so that I won't be exposing you to more words that could cause more confusion for either of us. I figure you'll either get to a place where you are ready to say the things I need to hear. When you're ready to repent or confess or apologize, in your own way and time too I'll be all ears, I promise. And we can go from there.
Thanks,
Abigail
*Notice I didn't say, "you only treated me like shit the other day..." I do speak that way sometimes. But only when I'm scared. I'm trying to cut back and anyway to use a minimizing word would undermine the power of the shitty treatment, and offer them excuses for inexcusable behavior and neither of those is what I am trying to write about.
And then I guess I go on from there. Depression is real and comes in various stages and strengths so I'm not pretending that a letter like this won't bring it on or be cause to work harder to fend it off.
I either get on the Feelings Schedule (I'll re post it underneath to refresh your memory) and work on myself or I won't. But if I don't then I'm breaking the promise I made and that sucks for me and the offender. In fact, I don't know what I'd do if one of you just copied and pasted the letter in an email and sent it to me. I hope I'd be able to respond right away by thinking through what I am ready to confess to you, figure that out, write an honest email that says, "I'm ready to repent." And nothing else: no excuses, no reactions, no withholding behaviors, no drama or hyperbole. But that may take me a long time.
Just to put it in perspective: It has been a year since my husband of almost 7 years and I split. And though there has been healing this year I am nowhere near knowing what to confess, how to repent, or what reconciliation will mean for us.
You can go on and say the letter is controlling or manipulative or rude. You can criticize it all you want but maybe you just don't like it for the same reasons I have never written it down before today: it is a lot to deal with... and rightly so! When we hurt people there is no easy, right or graceful way out. You have to go deeper in, you have to risk, trust, slow down, be awkward and its going to hurt. It might even get messier than it already was. But not the destructive, chaotic kind of mess, more like the sewing room, the craft shack, the workbench or the potting shed.
And it is growth, creation and so it takes time.
Jackson says she and I will be friends for the rest of our lives and so I am constantly reminded that grace can be spread out over a long period of time. She refers to the way we'll have the rest of our lives to watch reruns, but it also reminds me that I will have the rest of my life to learn to be a good friend.
I guess I spend a lot of time hoping that the things I regret and want to change would match up with whatever offense hurting friends have located. Often it doesn't and won't.
For example, I've been accused of being a bitch and that is just too vague so I can't apologize for that. I've also been accused of being mean, which I most certainly am, and more than I should be, but I can't apologize for that either because its too big a part of my story... I'd need a more direct and caring call to repentance. I'd need someone to brave the windstorm of my insecurities, look at me and carefully, slowly (as should have been done when we were children) say, "You have hurt someone you love. You don't have to do something right now, but you have a choice. You can choose compassion. There is no need to be ashamed or afraid. But there is a need for you to be aware of your impact on the people around you. Practice compassion in a safe place and when you're ready to risk bigger, to be curious and forgiving, you can be compassionate with yourself and everyone else in ways you have neglected today."
I've been accused (quite recently, and harshly) of dishonesty, infidelity,unchristian behavior, chicanery, abandonment, distrusting, antisocial behavior, passing judgment, insanity, stupidity and narcissism. I've been told that therapy, marriage, a certain book, a certain spiritual practice, a better outlook on life, or a change in habits or friends would force me to change my behavior, then I'd be a better person, then I'd be worthy of forgiveness, then I'd be worthy of friendship or trust or generosity or... compassion.
I will admit it probably works that way for some people sometimes, and I will admit that if it worked that way for me, if that were good enough for me, I'd be easier to live with already!
But! I am human which means two things: 1)I'll never be able to earn your esteem, 2)I'm a part of creation and that is enough to make me worthy of compassion--even yours.
Although I am honest, faithful, willing to believe in God's goodness, generous, loyal, trusting, social, justified, sane, intelligent and self-aware when it is safe for me to be so, I cannot act in all those ways all the time--no one can. Therefore I cannot do anything to change myself so much that I would someday earn your friendship.
And what is more, I am trying real hard to stop expecting you to, too... I'm trying to stop expecting so that I can live in the grace of curiosity over the particulars as to why it is so hard for the president, the mothers, the bothers, the congressmen, flight attendants, baristas, publishers--everyone from St. Peter on down to the neighbor kids to be more of who we were made to be.
As promised: You might need this later because you probably have regrets or repentance to deal with... or maybe just because you're human.
The Feeling Schedule is a little poem I wrote last summer it is actually called
Today
Wake up
Stare at the ceiling
Refuse to get out of bed
Think of the things that make you feel
overwhelmed, angry, hateful, sad, depressive
count to ten, slowly
Roll over, yes you have to.
Think of all that you don’t have and feel pretty shitty, count to ten, or maybe twenty
But you can’t stay there
There are birds learning to fly just outside
Push away the mattress, slide out from between a blanket or sheet, stand up as tall as
you can
Lift your head, yes you have to.
Think of the people that make you feel
Loved, angry, loved, angry, loved…
Eat breakfast, watch television, pull on some clothes, socks, a hat maybe, yes you have to
Feel the soft clothes against you
Don’t worry about what it smells like, looks like or
the way they mock the shape of you and the shape the day will take.
The day is hot and wet, give in to the sweat and feel the knot in your stomach, or throat
Think of all that grows here: trees, boys, and clouds that refuse to gather and
Tell yourself that is good
And when the anxiety comes
When the hatred and fear swell like a tsunami
When the nausea and sickness threaten to engulf you
Try them on,
think of wind and rainstorms inside your body,
thunder and lightening in your veins
Think of boys racing down the slight sloped hill on skateboards
girls hoping you will call and lots of lost love
Try to think of mothers screaming in the throes of birthing pains and
Little boys with fat tears falling on scraped knees
Think of bandaids generous enough to cover new wounds
And scars covering old wounds
&
when you are alone again,
Hiding in a public bathroom stall, against the wall holding you vertical
Or in the car, put on your seat belt and let it press into your chest
Like the hand of God pressing against your lungs
so all you can do is
Stay right there
Slump down, against a wall or window and
put your hand On your head,
cover your face and cry. Let the sadness and frustration and grief
shake your shoulders, shake itself out.
The hot tears are sticky and ooze out and you have to let them out
Let them out, spit them off your lips, blow them out your nose,
Push them out, not in
Wipe them on your shirtsleeve like snail trails,
So you can see the tracks of slow moving sadness
Breathe in and out
Breathe in and out like a dog panting in the heat of your emotions
Open your mouth and lungs
and the ache will either get worse
or dissipate
If it gets worse, stay a little (one) longer, wipe away a few more tears
If it goes away, and trust me, that ache will go away eventually,
If you respect it,
Then you can go on.
&
At the end of the day when you crawl back into the bed
Just lie still
Scrunch up your nose at the stench of wrongdoing all around you
Clench your jaw and steel yourself against the nightmare you are living.
Think back on the day, the downward spiral you are riding
Jokes and drunks and all
And imagine what you would tell the one person you want to talk to most
That this is bad
this is not good
That you are so lonely and you don’t know what you are doing here and
Why did your mother fail and your father get you into this mess?
Imagine the face of a friend, tearing up, eye lashes sticking together and nose running
For you
All for you, over you, all around you
Wrap the blankets around you tight and think of the warm bodies of close friends
Next to you
On a porch, on a bench, on a beach, on the hood of a car, on a diner booth bench,
on a bar stool, on a couch,
on a hopeful day
&
think of how hard it is
to loose your innocence over again, just when you thought
you didn’t have any more innocence left to lose
think of a carpenters’ roof beams raised high above your head and let your soul lay across
think of the ancient Egyptian pylons and let self and body stand tall between them
think of Grecian columns, slant 6 engines, old growth redwoods, and tug boats
because you are stronger now and you are taking your place among them
whenever you feel this way
whenever you feel
whenever
you feel
this way
everyday.
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