Friday, May 30, 2008

Me

I am a small person.
Living, breathing, with a heartbeat
I'm crawling slowly,
Determined to move forward--
To breathe a little deeper,
See a little clearer,
Inch a little farther--
Unnoticed,
Until I get to a great place,
With an incredible view,
And there I'll stand up, open my arms and yell--
--no I'll whisper--
"Look at me, look where I made it to."

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Expectations

I ran a marathon in 2000. Every time I tell the story I feel like I have to say that it was a spiritual experience because Jesus helped me do it. And it’s true, I could not have done that on my own. That marathon is my one concrete proof from all my years in Christianity that Jesus is real. There’s no way in hell I talked myself through all those training runs and that 26.2 miles. During every run I asked him to carry my feet down the path, to protect my knees and to help me not to quit. He did, and I finished at exactly my goal time.

I know that God is real. I haven’t just decided to believe it, I know it. I can’t get away from it--I’ve actually tried, and found that the knowledge is too much a part of who I am to divorce myself from it. What I don’t know anymore, what I’m stuck on, now that I’ve re-accepted that God is real, is how do I think about Him? I don’t know what he’s like, I don’t know what to believe about him and I don’t know where I stand with Him.

I know what the Bible says he’s like—many times I’ve studied and memorized the attributes of God. I was in church for 30 years listening to people talk about Him, singing about Him, talking about Him, talking to Him, and listening to other people talk to Him. But since my break with Christianity, for me, none of that rings true anymore, I can’t trust it. I’m starting from scratch.

I’m sure it’s the fault of my own twisted view of Him, but, because He, the church and Christianity were all closely related in my mind, it FEELS like all He stood for and all I learned about Him was a big fat lie, that I was sold something. “God” as he was portrayed, His church, His people, His way of life, His Christianity, His teaching, His Bible studies, His hymns and songs, and interpretations of His “word”—were not all they proclaimed. The message, as I understood it, turned out to be not entirely true. My framework of American Christianity and all its trappings didn’t fulfill the promises I believed it would. I was so disappointed, it pretty much crushed me. I felt like I’d given myself over to some one or some organization that didn’t really know me, care for me, didn’t tell me the whole story and then manipulated me into believing it all. I’m mad at myself for doing it and I’m mad at Him for letting me.

So in my disillusionment I let my Christianity fall away and now I’ve come through to a new kind of life. There is no manual, and there are no rules--I can do whatever I want I guess. It’s freedom. It’s scary and it’s difficult, but I love it and I’d so rather have it than be deluded. But I’m finding that I need some answers about how to live. If God is real, what does he think about me? What is God really like? What can I, no-kidding, expect from God?

I asked a few Christian friends what they expect from their relationship with God. A couple people thought the question was selfish, or misguided, as if we shouldn’t ask God this question. Why not? This God of the Bible with all its promises, shouldn’t we be able to ask what we can expect from him? Are Christians pretending to believe in him as though they didn’t have any self-interest? I think it’s a fair question, and I’m asking it because I feel like I don’t have any choice in the matter. I’m not deciding God is real, I know, that for me, he is. So then what?

After Christianity I felt like I’ve was standing outside of some exclusive Vegas nightclub where people "supposedly" had access to God. I was hanging around the door to see if I wanted to get in, but kind of knowing there wasn't really access to God in there. I didn’t know what it took to get inside, but there was no way I was waiting in that incredibly long Christian line again. It’s like I thought I might have the cash, the looks, or the faith required for the bouncer to let me in.

Well, everyone has their own path to find God, and mine does not include getting into that club. I can see, and feel, that the club is not for me, and I’m so glad because I don’t want to go in that club! It’s not my scene really, I belong out on a trail somewhere in hiking boots, not in heels and a cocktail dress. I don’t get to easily dance the night away like all those Christians, I have to hike up rocky, rugged trails. I’m not complaining though, because anyone who really knows me knows that’s where I’d rather be. The air is fresher, the view is incredible, and somehow, even though I can’t see him, God is just kind of there, everywhere. I don’t have to wait in any line and there's no fancy lights or music creating illusion and claiming false promises.

I think I’m supposed to just keep moving on that trail, my own trail, through this life, and make my own way as best I can. I don’t get any shortcuts. I don’t get to know what God is like from other people, nor even from my former Bible knowledge of him. So now it’s just me, trying to get through life—No, NOT just trying to get through life—trying to really live--to work and live and deal and fight to enjoy this journey. It’s just me trying to create and share and be and find MY way, MY place and MY voice.

I think I can expect him to just help me do that--keep going, keep moving, even if it’s not for some big-deal thing—just my ordinary life, but really LIVING it as just me. This feels right, and is so new and interesting, I don’t want to miss any of it by escaping life as I sometimes used to. It’s like I’m getting such a bang off the view and the fresh air I just want to keep going, keep climbing and discovering what is around the next bend. I feel like I’m on to something good and true. For me, it has a lot to do with writing—that’s the conduit, the mechanism, not just for coping with life, but also for gaining understanding and enlightenment. What if all I ever produce is just a result of that life? That’s enough for me.

So I do get to know what I can expect—Finally, an answer to my question! I don’t expect him to live up to some list of attributes. I don’t expect to feel loved, I don’t even expect Him to always be there for me. I think I can expect to have Him carry my feet up the path, protect my knees and help me not to quit while I continue to move forward. And, that’s the one thing I happen to know He’ll do.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Men

I have such a love-hate relationship with men.
Actually, that’s not true. I have to admit, I pretty much just love them.
Let’s say I have a love-frustration relationship with men.

They’re so much easier to hang out with, so much more fun to joke around with, and in my book, easier to talk to. Sure, the conversation is often just shooting the breeze and laughing, but when you do get them into a deep conversation it’s such a delightful surprise—they often have great insight and perspective. Just when I’m thinking one of my men friends is a thoughtless dolt, he’ll come up with some real wit or insight and I think he’s great again. Plus, men can switch subjects from a deep, meaningful topic to silly humor in a second without anyone getting their feelings hurt.

Men just do things. They just get things done. They just have a good time. They just do nothing. They just _______. It doesn’t matter what it is, they are just doing that. It’s simple, and whatever they are doing gains importance because they have committed to doing it. They decide. They don’t like to feel like they HAVE to do stuff. If they do, you’ll know about it because it will wear on them. They like to choose what it is they want to do, then it becomes the most important thing.

It’s like they reserve the right and the space to exercise their innate freedom to choose. It seems they don’t as easily take on the burden of pleasing as women do, and they don’t feel as obligated. Maybe their burden is they’re taught to go after things, to see what they can get, to manipulate. Maybe that puts them behind women in real interaction—or maybe it doesn’t, maybe they interact just fine.

In the past couple of years I’ve had some surprising feelings in moments of frustration with some of my men. A few times something deep called out that they had influenced me more than I knew, or that their mere presence—that I knew what would please them so I did it—had somehow stunted my free-spiritedness or my confidence. Never would any of them intentionally do this, but even non-controlling men can be a bit controlling. They have natural strength and power, and, well, boys will be boys. See what lee-way they’re given? And don’t we often just excuse whatever bad things they do as what was expected of a man? If “boys will be boys” and that’s all we’re expecting, why should we be surprised if that's what we get? Well, I’m expecting a bit more.

I don’t think I used to battle the will of men as much as I do now, but these last few years they've chafed me a few times. I’ve felt a thumb on my head or a hand on my back directing me, and it absolutely dawned on me that I was being leaned on or sold to. Again, I don’t think it’s intentional, they mean well, it’s just the way they see things--things just ARE a certain way, and I should probably see them that way too.

Well I don’t always see it their way. I know my own mind and I’m strong enough to stand on my own two feet and battle a bit. I’ll kick the thumb off my head with one of my men every now and then, and make my own self be heard. It’s hard though, because I still like to please them.

I wonder if it’s just our culture. Aren’t girls taught to either capitulate to men’s wishes or make them think we will? I don’t want to perpetuate that. The alternative is so much better--to really have it out with them. It takes a ton more effort but I find it SO valuable. When we battle for true understanding and common ground, and find it, THAT’S union, that’s progress between the sexes, that’s friendship, that’s relationship.

Then, the next second after the battle, because they’re men, we get to make jokes and laugh about it, and that's fun.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

The Game

I can't buy into Christianity at all anymore. It worked for me for a long time, and I don’t judge anyone who is still in it—but I can’t do it. I now see it as a lame perversion of what life is all about. I am NOT claiming to know what it’s about, but it has to be about more than what I learned in Christianity.

I'm talking about American Christian culture and all that comes with it, not necessarily the simple belief in Jesus.

Church is good, it helps people. That is, it’s good if it’s working for you. My upbringing in Christianity perfectly prepared me to play the game of life the Christian way, and for many years I played beautifully. I probably scored more than anyone I knew playing the game—I "sinned" less, I studied more, basically I became the MVP--but then I caught a glimpse of something false about the game, as if there was more to it than I had been led to believe.

What I’m understanding now is that the game is not the real deal. It’s a baby-talk mechanism designed to keep us inside the ballpark so we don’t go outside the fence where real life is, where it’s scary and much more difficult to stay out of trouble. Church is about helping people keep their lives in line and it's about keeping people in line. It's about power.

I think your standard American Christian keeps God at arms length and tries to please him in incredibly compartmentalized ways. Occasionally they might even allow Him to incrementally change their lives. They're happy thinking they’ve pleased Him, and maybe they have, if that’s where they’re at. I think He knows it’s lame, but loves them anyway and let’s them do it. It’s good for them, and they’re happy inside the ballpark eating hot dogs and thinking life smells like freshly-cut grass.

What if it's about so much more. What if, instead, it has something to do with the person behind it all. That presence. The real deal. The One we placate with our church-going and our good-doing. What if it has something to do with a willingness, an openness with that Being, rather than all this bunk we set up to try to get everyone to please God and get to heaven. What if God doesn’t care about whether or not I “sinned” today or yesterday—What if all He cares about is my control, my willingness to be known by Him, allowing myself to be messed with and ultimately loved.

As for me, for some reason, I saw the end of it. I was called out of the game, sent out of the park, and THAT, I can tell you, I was unprepared for. Maybe, listening to my soul, I climbed over the right field fence in some insatiable desire for more, for one second convinced it had to be true. Who knows, maybe I was thrown out--God weary of my antics.

Or, maybe I'm in Iowa, and I willingly walked straight out into the cornfield, into the place where God is. I can tell you, there’s no game going on out here.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Soulmate and Soul Mates

I've been wondering about the concept of soulmate. It seems to me that the way people use the word soulmate implies that every soul has a partner soul, kind of like there's only one person out there that really matches you, with whom a relationship could be all it is supposed to be. It suggests an intimacy that cannot be manufactured, as if it's chosen by destiny or fate.

I feel like a soulmate is a person who feels like home to your own soul. Your soul can rest there, and be comfortable. It is the person to whom you relate so well that you do not have to explain yourself perfectly, and do not have to defend yourself when your flaws show. A soulmate is present when you’re hurting (even if they aren't physically present), and they actually feel your pain with you. They applaud the loudest when you succeed, because they are a part of the success, and part of you and all you are. I've found that they’ll even give you the space and the time to change things up when you need a paradigm shift, and you return that grace to them. In fact, they help you change, even cause you to change.

I'm not sure about the concept of destiny, that there can only be one soulmate for each person, and if you miss them, well, you won't have the best relationship. I used to think that God had someone perfect picked out for everyone, and your job was to be close enough with him to get the heads-up when they came by. Now I think God paints on a much larger canvas than that, and that all relationships are a choice. If you have someone you call your soulmate, it's probably taken a lot of work and time, it wasn't the magical coincidence of happening upon the soul fate chose for you. You've chosen to share with them and be with them over and over again, even when you didn't feel like there was any fate involved, at least any good fate.

I chose to match up with mine 20 years ago, and now our souls are deeply intertwined, even tangled up. We're a mess, and even though we're the ones that tied the knots, we could never get them all undone. I suppose if we were a pair of shoes we'd be worn-in, sturdy, leather hikers knotted at the laces. You can see at a glance we've been across a few mountain passes on this trail of life, and I'm guessing we have a few more steep climbs ahead.

So maybe there is only one person you've chosen to be your soul's partner, but if you think about the word "mate" in the Australian sense, your soul can have a more than a few "mates." You can have several people in your life with whom you share your soul. I think this describes anyone with whom you've shared varying degrees of closeness, ranging from having a few real talks, or having a lifetime of experiences and conversations. Our souls need, are fed and developed by these daily encounters.

I also think that at times you can feel too close to your soulmate, who cramps you because they know you too well. At other times your soul mates are irritatingly in your business. I'm afraid there's no getting rid of any of them, you’re stuck. To the degree that you've shared your soul, your committed, because you're known. Even if you kick them out or leave, they’ll still be with you, and you might even hear their voices in your head. That's the scary part of sharing your soul, that you might regret it when you get to know the person a little better.

But that's the deal, that's relationship. It's sharing and communing on all different levels, and it requires your soul to change and grow, attach and release. It's exercise. It's painful, but oh so necessary.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Free Will


What if-- There's a place, a sacred space, inside each person, where the power of the soul resides?

What if-- It is not in the intellect, not just the will, but where spirit and soul meet to make a person?

What if-- This is the place where we are most like God, where we commune with him?

What if-- In this place the power of the soul is utterly free?

What if-- No one else can see it, touch it, or go there, not even God himself, without the soul's invitation?

What if-- Each soul has the freedom and the power to choose how to use that space?

What if-- This is true? What does it say about God?

What if-- This is true? What does it say about me?