Our Ifs and Almosts

Our conditional 'ifs' and halting 'almosts' are like ghosts come to haunt the night with regret. When 'Ifs' are attached to anything a contractual arrangement comes into play and spontaneity is all but eliminated. When we hear an intonation of 'Almost' there is little doubt that disappointment will fill the air. 'Ifs' and 'Almosts' are terms and conditions, stopping short, and turning back. They create an incomplete state of being fearful of change. Passion is traded in for safety. Hands reach out and touch nothing.

Several years ago, I was visited by old friends who were passing through on their way to a vacation in the mountains. Our reunion was a good one, filled with tales of youthful exploits and misadventures.

At the end of the evening, one of my old pals asked me whether I had any regrets.

Without hesitation, I replied that I did not. He was flabbergasted. After all of what he rightly perceived as heartaches, losses, errors in judgment, and recklessness in my life, the thought of my being without regret seemed highly unlikely. I went on to explain that each of the difficulties and pitfalls of life brought me to the here and now. It would have been impossible to be the person I am today without each moment that led me to this place and time. Each molded me into the person I have become. Regret would presume that I know better and could have orchestrated things more astutely than God.

He then began a litany of his own regrets. Each was punctuated with an 'If' or an 'Almost'. If only he had been less headstrong with his true love they might have forged a life together. If only he hadn't taken a certain job he wouldn't have compromised his belief system. He almost backpacked in Europe.

He almost joined the Peace Corps. I think he wanted me to join in but I could not. I listened. It is just what I heard every day from the folks who came to me for professional counseling. And I had certainly felt the same way at one time.

Often disguised as would-have, should-have, and could-have, we all have life stories that could be reduced down to 'Ifs' and 'Almosts'. But those filters colorize and mask the wonder and beauty of who we have become and are becoming. The burdens of grief and loss are overwhelming when we look at things in that way.

There is a lesson going forward. Eliminate any ‘If' that constricts a relationship to this-for-that. Forget about what 'Almost’ was and celebrate what is. Stop with the woulda, shoulda, coulda. Time accelerates to a practically blinding speed as we get older. Here is a guaranteed formula. Just let go and let God. This roller coaster ride is a lot more fun if you take your hands off the restraining bar and throw them up in the air.

The Grace of Unknowing

As the season of light presents itself again this year, it is important to remember that for some, a poverty of spirit obscures it.

Grief, loneliness, fear, and the darkness of depression block access to any kind of joy or celebration.

While we wait in eager anticipation, they wait for the other shoe to drop. It is at this festive time of the year that those of us who celebrate are more urgently needed than at any other. Setting aside our busy schedules in deference to being present for those who suffer is an act of compassion that can carry lifesaving comfort. But the gift we receive from so doing might be even greater than the one we give. When allowing ourselves to be transported from wellbeing, certainty, and control into the gloom of another person’s shadows, it becomes possible to experience the grace of unknowing.

We don't like to think about unknowing or unlearning. It takes us away from being in control. The certainty of our belief systems, the rhythm of routines, and adherence to the status quo makes us feel secure.

I remember asking my mother why we 'went visiting' every Sunday. Her response was; "It's what our family has always done." That was an unacceptable answer to me because it didn't really tell me anything. Nobody seemed particularly thrilled with staying dressed up after church to drop in on folks who might have had other plans (or for those of us who would rather be outside playing basketball). But we did it because it was what we did.

My objections didn't change anything. We still 'went visiting'. What might happen if we didn't follow our custom was never discussed. And I have to admit that the Sunday regimen was comforting despite its discomfort. Departure from our ingrained, embedded practices feels pretty risky. We want to find an escape hatch to that 'old-time religion' or 'those thrilling days of yesteryear' where the Lone Ranger rides again. Everything was knowable and everyone was safe. Approaching any treasured belief with an open-minded posture of unknowing (I don't know) shakes the foundations of our personal self-concept and identity. It requires the painful process of unlearning and relearning

The best, most divine knowledge of God is that which is known by not-knowing ~ St. Dionysius

The grace of unknowing is the source of wisdom, growth, and transformation. It releases the glee of Ebenezer Scrooge who once was the master of his destiny. He awakens from his visitation by Three Spirits with the full understanding that he never was the one in control. He began to dance a jig singing "I don't know anything. I never did know anything. And now I know that I don't know on this Christmas morning."

He was not the same person. By letting go of knowing and embracing unknowing, he gained all the wisdom he would ever need. Dickens relates that henceforth it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May we all be blessed with such grace…the Grace of Unknowing.

Forgive and Forget; How to be Fully Present

The old adage, Forgive and Forget, can present some big challenges and often proves to be pretty troublesome.

We nod our heads in somber understanding upon hearing the response 'I can forgive, but I can't forget.’ But is it really possible to forgive without an element of forgetting? Forgiveness implies a letting go of resentments which bind us to an incident of sometimes traumatic proportions. And letting go, really letting go, requires a lot. The chokehold of old grudges, while exhausting, almost becomes a part of our survival. So releasing that grip in favor of forgiveness is quite a tall order. And therein lies the problem. Forgiving, by itself, is only a partial discharge of bitterness and anger. Freedom and the ability to live fully in the present comes only when we allow ourselves to forget.

I went out this morning to watch as the full moon set and the sun rose over Florida's Gulf of Mexico. It's a ritual and joy of mine when visiting my adopted home state. I did much of my growing up in Hillsboro Beach, just north of Pompano and developed this early morning habit as a boy. There has never been one that wasn't awe-inspiring.

Today, my meditative moments were punctuated by an encounter with a Firefighter from Mississippi who had also come down to welcome the beauty and wonders. We chatted for quite a while, revealing his life-saving work and my journalism for ChaplainUSA. In turn, I asked him about how he deals with all of the trauma and how he is able to process or forget what happens in his job. I wondered aloud how he forgives those who do irreversible harm to others. This father of a young son explained that it is imperative if he is to be the kind of parent he wants to be. "You can't carry the things we see and do around with you. So you forgive and forget. It's the only way."

As the red sun broke through the horizon urging the yellow-white moon to settle back into the sea, the savvy of this heroic public servant was evident. A new day can't dawn until the old one disappears. You simply cannot forgive until you forget.

Arlen Becker, blog contributor and old friend, writes a regular thought-for-the-day. He says that "By forgiving the perceived errors of others and ourselves we are releasing our own minds of the burden of anger which is often keeping us from our joy. Forgive each time it comes up and soon it will be gone from the mind. Forgive quickly and leave the burden behind and find your happiness sooner." He is right of course. I think this forgiveness wisdom contains the essence of how to 'forget'. The first part is to disallow a resentment chokehold in the first place, never permitting it to cripple you. The second is to examine your part in an old wound and forgive yourself right along with the one who did harm, thus ending the victim/perpetrator relationship. Memories of hurt may remain, but they will have no power. The present is poisoned when the past lurks around every corner. In order to live fully, we must move on. By forgiving AND forgetting we are delivered from bondage to enjoy life here, now, and in the future.

Becoming Authentic; Doing the Inside Job

When I think about an inside job, the initial images that come to mind are of a dishonest key employee who arranges for theft of assets from the company. The bank teller assists a heist by giving away vault combinations and then shares in the clandestine loot. It is marked by betrayal of confidence. But there is another kind of inside job. It comes with a rude awakening that our character flaws, excesses, shortcomings, and barriers we have built to insulate us from pain are keeping us from experiencing the wholeness of life. We recognize that incessant efforts to shape and control external events have mostly just resulted in tire spinning. And there we are, looking like Pogo Possum who says; "We have met the enemy, and he is us".

Perhaps the inside job of employee betrayal may not be so different from the inside job which robs us of authenticity after all. For it is the false self (ego), insecure and driven for comfort that tells us to avoid anything which threatens our status quo. The genuine, real person dwelling within yearns for connectedness and mutuality but is stifled by external clamor to be important, separate, self sufficient, and superior. And so we continue to betray ourselves and steal away the treasure of love given freely by God.

Years ago, crushed by the weight of my own grief and misadventures, I leaned heavily on the wisdom of my mentor, Lyle A. He was a crusty old curmudgeon who believed strongly that the 12 Steps of AA provided the best model for healing, recovery and living life on life's terms. I was working hard to rebuild my finances, reputation, and credibility with limited success and went to Lyle for direction. He heard about enough of my whining, blaming and excuses when he told me to forget the whole thing and to go bury myself in a bottle of bourbon. He said that I had missed the whole point. Happiness, joy, fulfillment and healing were an inside job. Until I could figure out a way to do some major interior remodeling, the exterior would continue to fall apart. I was relying on my own resilience while Edging-God-Out. Lyle was right of course. It took a long time and more bruises and missteps, but eventually it did the work and I let God take control.

Yogi Berra once quipped that 'it gets late early out there'. And it does. The time for working on the inside job is now. Though I always heartily recommend the 12 Steps for Everyone, and good resources like Breathing Under Water by Richard Rohr, whatever path you take must bring you to your silent center where that wee small voice can be heard calling you The Beloved. It is the only way to wholeness and healing.