It's the feeling of self doubt as a result of replaying scenes through your mind over and over questioning why you said what you said or why you didn't say what you'd thought you should. Oh yes, the ever scavenging squirrels of the mind, eager to pick up on some seed of a doubtful word that might be worth scampering off with to add to the ever-growing pile of future food for thought.
You may be wondering what the heck I'm starting with today but I've decided that this adventure is not all about Pollyanna and the brightest sides of life, but also includes periods of desolation that need attention in order to dispel them and come out the other side just a little more evolved than the last time.
I think what surprised me about this latest episode was how intense the feelings were given that I haven't really had an after burn experience for quite some time.
It started with being asked to lead a faith sharing session during one of our latest faith development sessions at the church. The obvious format from what I've seen is people sharing their own history of the role that faith played in their lives. Fair enough, although others who had gone before had prepared notes with at least a week's notice, I was being asked with less than an hour and a learning session in between. Never being at a shortage for words, how tough could it be, all I have to do is invite the Holy Spirit in to provide the words that I am to say, much like I pray leading up to writing this blog.
It seemed like everyone else who'd shared so far, grew up in the model Catholic home with two parents, siblings, a pet and praying the rosary daily. And seriously, I don't say it with anything other than admiration but my reality was being raised in a one parent home albeit my father was very involved with the church during his own upbringing. Going through a divorce changed all that because he was no longer welcome to go to communion, creating much confusion for an impressionable 8 year old at the time. In any case life went on and we went to mass every Sunday for years.
For me hitting the later teen years and early adulthood I left the church in the lurch, so to speak, because I realized I still knew everything and as far as most anything went, I didn't know I couldn't handle things on my own. Capable, confident and by the way, 'don't tell me I can't' was a regular party line. Rick and I didn't marry in the Catholic church because he had the first time and I knew enough of the red tape of annulment that it wouldn't be an easy or welcome process. By the way Rick was raised Anglican and was not practicing either so we pulled out the phone book, looked for a church close to where we lived and went off and got married in the very welcoming United Church. After Matt was born, my Catholic upbringing started tinkering with my brain and without too much clanging and banging, I got up my nerve to call the local Catholic church in Waterloo to arrange his baptism.
Without going into detail, suffice it to say we went back to the church we were married in and had Matt baptized there.
Within a year of moving to Kingston, my Dad retired and moved in with us for a year creating the setting to once again deal with the renewed tinkering of my brain with Catholic thoughts. As it happened a new church was being organized and I had the protection of my Dad's wings to go under as we dared step foot into the Catholic church again, with a little towhead two year old being towed along! Whew, we managed to get into a routine and no falling ceilings or fire extinguishers needed to deal with the wrath of an unwelcoming clergy. No, it was more like my early days when we were sort of welcomed into the church. As time went on and it was school enrolment time, the issue arose again because of Matt being baptized in the United Church so ever so gingerly I picked up the phone and called our local pastor who clearly was born and ordained in a more welcoming time.
You know it's funny how, despite the negative experiences and outright damnation I experienced, the old 'don't tell me I can't' seemed to prevail and led me down the right paths to fulfill my own spiritual needs. Behaviours that sometimes get us in a heap of trouble can also serve us well in the worst of times. My reason for attending weekly mass was a deep seated feeling of need for at least that one hour a week to make sense of this crazy world we live in.
It seemed that whatever was agitating me, the subject was addressed in that week's homily (sermon). I shared with the group that as time went on my appetite grew to a point where I became interested in learning more about my faith, a relationship with God and Jesus and so began attending more development sessions. Then, to my own surprise, I simply ended my faith sharing talk and stopped.
By the time I got back to my seat I was already realizing that fully, an entire chapter of my story remained untold, likely the most important part which includes the last decade. In speaking to my Spiritual Director later, who was present at the time, he suggested that there will be another opportunity to tell the rest of the story and that, in fact, it might be more powerful given the current status and events that I have lived through in recent years. Rather than a fire extinguisher, it was like he took a watering can of a warm spring rain and gently doused the flames of my after burn and at the same time, planted seeds of hope for the future. It was a relief to accept that God is always right and the Holy Spirit was indeed guiding my comments, just not in the way that I anticipated.
Maybe it's that mindset that creates the after burn. Maybe it's those times when I am lacking trust that exactly the right thing is happening and all I have to do is go with it gently down the stream rather than fighting a firestorm. Maybe I've been making progress after all. Maybe the backsliding has not been nearly as deep as it once was as I've been growing in faith and trust in God. Those times are definitely fewer and further between as I release the fear of losing control if I don't maintain control. Hmmmm, thoughts worth pondering over the summer. Well enough about the faith sharing experience, which I did not expect to take up so much of this 'blog post real estate'.
There are three concepts that have been showing up over the last couple of weeks that I would like to touch on. They deal with Image and Character, the Spirit of Poverty and Richness in Scarcity. As I listen to the Christian radio station when driving, some of the most interesting stories come up and, along with it, lots of things worth considering. The consideration is of course, my own on the topic. Neither right nor wrong, just some things I now have the time to think about and reflect how they play out in my own life.
Take Image and Character - the theme is to determine which is more important to you and how you want to be seen by the world. I know how easy and important it can be to project the 'right' image to others, but at what cost? In years gone by, having progressed in my banking career to the so called 'esteemed' level of branch manager, there was great discomfort for me personally that went along with the perceived expectations that people would have. It was almost as if the position carried with it, automatic material possessions and behaviours. What kind of car you drove (older smaller compact vehicles happened to be part of my value system), what neighbourhood you lived in (definitely middle class - no backing onto golf courses for us), what clubs you belong to (who had time to golf let alone take out a costly membership), what vacations you went on (not many in those days nor even now).
On the other hand, to be able to relate to people who are everyday working at whatever they might, whether self employed or living paycheque to paycheque, the true value was in being able to help them solve their problems and achieve their goals. That sea of clients included every possible type from the spectrum - those living fully on credit to keep up with 'the Joneses' (no pun intended here) to those who lived modestly with million dollar nest eggs tucked away for some future time of need. And indeed, to many clients it was the importance of speaking to the 'branch manager' that assuaged their concerns, often as a result of their own self image.
Since starting to write this post, I took a break because something wasn't resonating quite rightly. It's this - over my career I have met and had the privilege of working with many, many people who would be considered rich and famous in our little part of the world. I can tell you that most of these people had both image and a deeply mature character which was evident in all they did. They would often be the people who did the most, gave the most and shared the most of typically their own self made wealth. I guess it becomes both a skill and an art to be able to interact with these people when you know that from a social or societal perspective, you don't really belong. It's ok to meet in the boardrooms around town and at fancy galas or fund-raising events, get involved in delightful conversations and then go home to the comforts of your own home. Is that how the 'cocktail circuit' is defined? Maybe, I don't really know.
I've talked before about the Spirit of Poverty, and the longer I live, it takes on greater importance in the framework of my own life. I'm learning how much means so little in terms of material wealth and gain and how that perspective leads to a much more simplified life in this world of materialism.
Just look at the sale flyers - now that you've filled up your home with the latest furniture, well keep going and roll it out to your yard and create rooms of furniture - a sitting area, an outdoor kitchen and on and on it goes. Have you ever done that? Been so enamoured with something, you couldn't wait to get it home and have it and well, just let it sit there? Ok, there it is, that lovely patio set, just waiting to be sat on and used. Time goes on, you never were someone who enjoyed eating outside or sitting swatting mosquitos so other than the occasional time of sitting when someone comes by, there the furniture sits quietly being aged with the passing of the seasons. I happen to have one of those sets and even though it is now nicely protected under a gazebo, the invitation still waits for me to go out and enjoy the amenities. The truth is though, I was out there every day almost all day two years ago recovering from back surgery. And it truly was delightful! The awareness of the spirit of poverty makes it so much easier to not even look at flyers, let alone actually going to look and consider making additional home purchases. Some of the wealthiest people I know live in outdated homes filled with ancient furniture and have no attachment to their material surroundings.
The last point for today is Richness in Scarcity which sort of evolves from the prior two topics. I heard a story about someone with very little family, if any, who died in a car crash. As friends braced themselves to attend to the material aspects of the person's life, they were richly blessed with finding an apartment with simply the bare necessities of life, everything well ordered, and the important information well documented.
The person telling the story was sharing how they were overwhelmed with the richness of that experience and how their visions of having to wade through mountains of stuff were instantly wiped away in the absence of 'stuff'.
The example from my own life I will share is about the beautiful diamond ring I bought in Florida a few years ago. My actual engagement ring was a bent fork - I'll save that story for another post, (part of) the money Mike may have spent on a ring was sitting in the garage in the form of a Harley Davidson which I encouraged him to buy rather than investing in a ring. Well, being one of those people who knows what they want but not until they see it, there was the ring waiting for me in the showcase of the store in Florida. The strength of appeal to my frugal side was too much given the 80% discount, and I became the proud owner of a 'post wedding' engagement ring.
Not a day would go by without comments, admiration and compliments on this ring. Since my adventures in prayer and medicine have started though, in many ways the ring became a bit of an albatross around my neck. No jewelry when going in for surgery, ok hide it well or put it in the safety deposit box. Getting the ring checked every six months to keep the lifetime warranty valid. Wondering about the image I was projecting when so often the first thing people mentioned was the ring.
It seems like this post is a bit of a rant against material things and I suppose it is given that much of the last couple of weeks has been spent sharing time with family and friends. Those activities are worth their weight in gold as we enjoy the company of those we care about most. Movies, concerts, yes, ok one shopping trip mostly for gifts, helping someone move, leisurely bike rides (yes on the Harley) and playing in the garden. All that in addition to much quiet time for reflection and soul cleansing by daily walks in the pool.
Until next time, may you find joy and peace in your life enjoying those things you care most about.
Hugs,
Liz
"The greatest gifts we can receive are prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love".
dobbsjones@gmail.com
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