A Call For Patience; The Bigger Experience of Life

Hope and trust are the foundation of patience…

Even so, after sacrificing in isolation for over a month, endurance is wearing thin for many. More than boredom, it's the haunting apparition of powerlessness that plagues us. Worry about the economy, governmental controls, and lack of personal freedom somehow begin to outstrip a microscopic enemy that silently robs people of life. Now, as death bells toll for nursing homes, health care centers, and in every corner of the world, we are inpatient.

There is a sense that we have to do something more than sit inside. So desperate to get things back to normal, our fear and anger spills over to family members, friends, social media, and to our governmental leaders. Several days ago a dangerous gathering of crowded protesters blocked traffic into a hospital threatening the lives of sick people in ambulances. Unmasked, they carried potential infections back home putting countless others at risk of viral exposure. It appears that some of us may have forgotten that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Henri Nouwen once asked three important questions as he pondered the illusions of power over unmanageable situations:

• What keeps us from opening to the reality of the world?

• Could it be that we cannot accept our powerlessness and are only wiling to see those wounds that we can heal?

• Could it be that we do not want to give up our illusion that we are masters over the world and, therefore, create our own Disneyland where we can make ourselves believe that all events of life are safely under control?

If each of us seriously considered these questions and responded from our hearts, the answers just might provide personal insight enough to maintain or regain some measure calm patience. And there is good reason to let go of our frantic need to command the uncontrollable. Our Coronavirus Task Force provided guidelines on Thursday, March 16 that each state and municipality can use to plot a course away from our isolation (in phases). Tailored to what is specifically happening in each locale, we will gradually move back toward a more normal life. It won't happen over night and the plan will have some setbacks. But now is the time to keep our wits about us.

“Any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. ”

— John Donne

Several years ago, one of my clients who had struggled mightily over addictive illness sat across from me after a most devastating relapse. It wasn't his first rodeo. Thomas had participated in several inpatient and outpatient treatment programs. From intervention to intervention he kept on trying to get well, but was never able to let go of control. He saw himself as the captain of his own ship despite the obvious observation that his vessel was like the Titanic steering toward yet another giant iceberg. His fear and anger manifested in everything he did while alienating all those who cared about him.

On that day in my office, however, he was finally ready to hand over his illness to somebody else. Tom had become eager to do the inside and outside work necessary to heal. He told me that it was as if he had been playing football on a field with no hash marks for years. Now, he could see it was "fourth and goal with some remaining time to kick." He got well, and lives his new normal with incredible joy. Tom spends lots of time volunteering in his community and is devoted to his family and friends.

“We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. ”

— ~ Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.

There is no reason to think we would have different outcomes from Toms when it comes to our dealing with the pandemic. When we really accept the premise that we are all in this together, let go of our controlling worried fears, and be patient, good things are bound to happen. We will have a new and bigger experience of life. I have every reason to hope and trust that all shall be well, that all manner of things shall be well.

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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.

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.