Archives for October 2018

Have you ever desired recognition from a person or institution, only to be ignored or shunned? Yes, I know the feeling. Whether in romance, career, or some other area of life being seen, acknowledged, and responded to (especially with affirmation), is an important aspect to how we relate.

But let us not rely on the affirmation of others to realize the value we all have inherently. The simple fact that we are alive must be seen as a gift if we are to not devolve into some form of value measuring society, where only the able and producing are seen, acknowledged, and responded to.

If we are to truly affirm the gift of life in the way that many of us desire to be affirmed, then it must be done so with the least of us. The children. Such that they grow up with a healthy understanding of the inherent value of their own life that no one can ever take away.

I don’t really like endings. The end of a movie is the end of that imaginary world. The end of a project is the end of that journey. The end of a phase of life is the end of a particular way of relating to the world around us. Endings are everywhere, and a natural part of life. But at the time of an ending I find myself grieving.

It’s just where my emotions go. Sometimes it’s overwhelming, and I can lose sight of what beauty lays before me. The beauty of new beginnings. The beauty of possibility and opportunity. The beauty of birth.

How sad it would be that we are overcome with emotions and miss out on the beauty that is right in front of us. How sad it would be that our grieving prevent us from even partaking in the newness that we are entering into.

Grieving is a good part of live and needs the time that it may take. But let it not consume us, lest the gift of whatever is next be missed.

I write a lot, and so do some of my friends. We also find ourselves in front of many audiences for public speaking events or performances. Depending on the audience, sometimes I change the words I use to make sure the message I’ve come to give has a better chance of landing in the ears of the listeners.

For those of us who feel that we have been given a message to deliver, language is simply a tool. It can be artistic (in the way a poem is), functional (in the way a manual is), academic (in the way scholarly books are), raw (in the way emotional friends can be), or jive (in the way hustlers are). The two things that matter for the messenger are the message and the listener.

As a messenger we should know our message. Clearly, completely, fully, and without question. Our message should be ingrained in our heart. The next learning is to know our listener. What has their life been like? What questions are they holding? What burdens are they carrying? Learn them and we will find our message might be carried closer to their heart than if we were strangers.

Every good and perfect gift comes with it a responsibility.

That is, everything that we’ve been given – our talents, our provision, our access, our health, our imagination – bear with them an ability to respond to a particular call to work.

Here’s the catch. We don’t get to decide what we get. We also shouldn’t let other people decide what we’re supposed to do. A large part of the journey of life is the discovery of the gifts we have, and a discovery of the work they call us to.

As always, work here is not defined simply as the thing we do to get a paycheck. More often than not the most important work is not really valued in the market. No, work is more than what we do for money. Work is what we do so that we, our relationships, and the world around us, reflect the values we hold.

So what gifts have you been given? And what calling have you heard? It’s time to work.

How many of us have found ourselves in a debate, us on one side of an issue, and our counterpart on the polar opposite side. While in the debate we look for support from surrounding listeners. We want to be justified in our stance, so we begin to try to convince others while still trying to win the debate with our counterpart. Then, a listener emerges from the crowd who has been patiently waiting to say a few words. When the opportunity arises, they simply say this:

You’re both wrong.

What? We were sure that we were in the right and they (whomever our original counterpart was) was in the wrong. We were very sure. And this listener agreed, sort of. They agreed that our counterpart was wrong, but also accused us of being wrong. Not the kind of ally we were hoping for when we solicited their opinion.

In most debates the polar sides that are taken are not always the stances that need justifying. Quite often there is a third way. This third way reconciles the values that make each original stance valid, and eliminates the qualities that make each stance a tool of violence to our fellow man.

Example:

Stance 1: Everyone has to work to earn their keep in a society.
Stance 2: No one should have to work to earn their keep in a society.

The Third Way: No one should avoid the work they know they should be doing as part of the society they are in.

The third way affirms the ability of each member of a society to do work. It also affirms the problem that the initial debate is based on, that is the avoidance of work. The third way does not define said work, leaving opportunity for anything from manual labor, to spending time with a neighbor, to working through unnecessary guilt, to be defined as work. Neither does the third way relate the doing of work to the earning of keep, thus undercutting the lie that people’s value in a society is somehow related to the type or quality of their work.

So the next time we end up in a debate, keep your eye out for the third way. It could end the debate and solve the problem all at the same time.

Part of the healing process of any cut is the development of a scab. Scabs are really interesting. They’re essentially hard bits of dried skin that form a protective layer over where the cut occurred. Underneath the scab the cut is being healed, the opening is slowly being closed, and new skin being grown. It isn’t until this last step is nearly complete that the scab will naturally fall away.

As scabs form and cuts heal, the area can be very itchy. Anyone of us who has experienced a cut and a scab may remember the challenge of not picking at it. If we fall into the temptation of the itch, and pick the scab, we might break it. Depending on where the process of healing is, our cut might begin bleeding again, or the new skin might be exposed and scar more severely than had it been left under the scab longer.

While itchy and annoying, scabs are necessary. The protection of the area is needed for the healing to happen. Now, I’ve recently asked myself, how many times have I experienced a cut, an offense, an injury of sorts, in the relational, social, or cultural space, not the physical one? How many times have I done what was necessary to allow that cut to heal? How many times did I pick at the scabs instead of letting protection build up around the area for a time? How many times did picking at the scab make the cut worse than it was to begin with?

Unless we want to prevent true healing we shouldn’t interrupt the natural healing process. Or in the words I ear echoing in my ear, “Quit picking at your scab.”

The ideas that I carry often rub up against others in ways that cause sparks. There is something about the nature of the ideas, how they are held them, and how they hit others, that makes them formative – not the type that you can just pass by.

It’s hard to hold an idea like, “all human life has value” and not work against the violence we so often see in the world. Some ideas demand responses. Other ideas don’t land so hard. Holding the idea, for example, that Orange is the best color in the world may put you on the campaign road to convince all others of this apparent truth. Or, you could just hold it for yourself, share it with friends, or offer the idea to anyone else who first asks for your opinion on the subject.

Whatever ideas we might receive or discover let’s recognize them for what they are. That is the potential to change the world, but only if pressed into action.

I’ve been called too intense more often than I care to remember. I used to think there was “something wrong” with me. As I’ve journeyed I’ve met others (who often become good friends) who also are labeled “intense”, “a lot”, or “too much.” We’re a club of sorts. Our mutual baseline for focus, engagement, and conviction is high, and we are happy with that.

I’ve tried to discern why some people get this label and others don’t. This is some of what I’ve learned:

Intensity is a matter of directness. If we’re not the outspoken type, intensity is often a measure of the expression of our convictions. The friend who comes straight to the point, or those who completely embody what they believe to be true (through word or action) are examples of this.

This description lends a positive outlook while the label seems to lean to the other way. Whatever negative reputation one might receive for their intensity, we would be better of in a world of people who come straight to the point, and embody their beliefs than otherwise.