Reinvention

I have been fairly spoiled throughout my life. I have been able to do what I love and have at times been paid generously for my time. I have never been in want. I have always had enough and then some to share with others. Because I've been spoiled, times like these are a bit more difficult.

I met with a job developer last week who told me that I needed to move on from what I've done in the past. Today's world is about transferable capabilities. It's time, she said, to radically reinvent myself. Yes, I agree, now I just need to find the energy to carry it out.

There's another thing I've done over the years that is being, well, radically reinvented. I have defined who I am by the work I do. It's common and it's not wrong, it's just that at some point you realize that you are more than what you get paid to do. There's a better way. It's brought me to a point where I don't care what I do as long as it's honest and I can stand behind it.

Jenn once told me that she didn't care if I was a garbage collector. As long as I took a good long shower at the end of each day and kept my nails trimmed and such, she was okay with it. She said that she didn't marry me because of the work I do but because of who I am. I might be getting to a point where I feel that about myself. That I like myself regardless of what I do for a living. It sounds embarrassing when I write it out like that but it's true.

On doubting

I received a card in the mail from my Mom today. I am blessed to have a loving mom who is nurturing and thinks the best of me. Everyone needs a mom like mine. In her card, among other things, she wrote: "I don't know why life hasn't smoothed out for you, but I do know that despite all of the evidence to the contrary, God hasn't abandoned you."

I don't know why life hasn't smoothed out for me either. And, I do feel abandoned but not forgotten. Sort of like a boy might feel when he is sent off to military school. He needs to be somewhere other than home but he is not erased from his parent's memory. I have staked my life on the fact that there is a God who loves me and cares about me and yet, I'm at a point where I don't really know which parts of my life he cares about. I hope he cares about all of me, but I'm not convinced.

King David once wrote these words, "Arise, Lord, awake from your sleep." And, if you read through  David's poetry you will find a man who on one hand has a deep faith in a benevolent God and on the other wonders if God is asleep at the wheel. David's real question is, "have you abandoned me?" Over and over again David says things like: remember me, do not hide your face from me, listen to me. He pleads and begs and paints a picture of his face continually being in the dust. His hope is in a God that he doubts. A God who, after miraculously having him anointed as king, allowed Saul to chase him for 8 to 15 years. And yet, David remains faithful to God...sort of. I mean, besides having an affair with Bathsheba and killing her husband.

I can relate to David's doubting. There are times when God is uncomfortably quiet and this, to me, feels like abandonment. I don't think He's forgotten me, I just start to doubt whether or not He cares. And, when you stake your life on the fact that He does, having this kind of doubt causes all sorts of troubles.

An I, not a Y

Here's a glimpse into the things that come into my mind at 2:00 AM. I realized, very early this morning that I misspelled Henri Nouwen's name in my last post using a "y" instead of an "i" at the end of his name. It is not a worthy reason to stay awake at night and I got over it fairly quickly, thankfully.

I also laid awake thinking about where I'm at with this last year of my life. This week I'm realizing how much energy it takes to remain relevant in today's world. At the same time I'm reticent to give in to what seems to be an absolute need to be relevant despite my valuing authenticity over relevancy. Still, I signed up for a Twitter account and have 10 followers who will be disappointed with my tweets to be sure. I have 150 characters to say what's on my mind. But first, I've been instructed to read articles about what should be tweeted and what should remain in my head. I hate the whole thing, honestly.

Can one be relevant and authentic at the same time or are the two at odds with each other? 

I am having to radically reinvent myself and find new ways to sell myself to potential employers. "Overqualified" is the word I keep hearing. Gray hair scares people and having big titles on my resume seems to scare them as well. How does one say "I promise not to steal your job" in an interview. Or, "I'm really not overqualified. In fact, I'm really not that good despite what my resume says." Come on...if I'm overqualified then the 40-50 grand a year you want to pay me means you're getting a good deal, right?

The idea has entered my mind more than a hundred times to go into business for myself...again. Drudgery. I have an idea of starting a non-profit that benefits the homeless but it's a terrible time to try to get something funded. I've also toyed with the idea of starting a grant writing business and doing some consulting, which I've done before. Whatever the case I have to do something.

Oh Henry

I'm still thinking about prayer...still wondering what it means and am becoming more convinced that it is more about listening than it is about speaking.

Look at one of the things that Henri Nouwen said about prayer:

"But you have to pray. You have to listen to the voice who calls you the beloved, because otherwise you will run around begging for affirmation, for praise, for success. And then you're not free."

Prayer, listening...sets you free.

What is prayer?

I spend a considerable amount of time wrestling with God. I enjoy it, I think and that's not me being cocky. It's just that I don't tend to spend a great deal of time on things that I don't enjoy, even if they leave scars and cause me to walk with a limp.

I wonder, though, if I'm actually wrestling with God or with views of God. Do I  wrestle with Him or with things I've heard about Him that I really don't believe. Things like...God wants me to be happy. I don't think so. Content maybe, but happy? Isn't that too much of a Western idea?

Prayer. I've been wrestling with prayer for most of my life. What is it? What can I expect from it? If I believe in a God who already knows what's on my mind, what is the value in telling Him? Does praying about something produce the same results that it would if I didn't pray about it? Is prayer more about listening than it is about talking?

I understand the value of saying humbling things like, "I need help" and there are many ways of saying that. I guess I just don't believe that I can twist God's arm or appease Him and I won't try. I refuse. This is the point where I cross my arms, sturdy my feet and take a firm stance against the notion that I can get my way with God. I let go of that idea years ago.

My prayers as of late sound like this: God, you are going to do what you want. I get that. You're God. So, if what you do can benefit me in any way, that would be a bonus. If it can't, help me to accept it as your benevolence. When I get upset for not getting my way, I might throw a fit so I ask for your grace in that. Thanks. P.S. About getting a job....

What is prayer to you? 

Act 2

Carl Jung said, "act one of a young man's life is the story of his setting out to conquer the world." He went on to say, "act two is the story of a young man realizing that the world is not about to be conquered by the likes of him." Pretty sure I'm entering Act two but the trick is that I have 3 young sons and I tell them that they can conquer the world. I can't let my act affect theirs.

My friend Brittian

I did not ask Brittian if I could post this and I don't think I have to because he wouldn't care. I met Brittian at a writing conference about 5 years ago and we immediately hit it off. We went to Horse Brass for a dark beer and some shepherd's pie when the Horse Brass was the smokiest pub in Portland. We talked about marriage and parenting and about how much grace both of those things must have to be fulfilling and to last.

It's years later and Brittian and I get together as often as possible, usually over Stumptown coffee and some pastries. Good food is important to both of us but we never talk about it. We still talk a lot about grace and the presence of God in unlikely places. There are a lot of things we don't have to talk about because we innately "get" each other. It's the things that we don't say that make us such great friends. Brittian is the gold standard as a friend. As a writer and philosopher, I can't compete and I don't try. He's a great father to his boys and a devoted husband to his wife.

I often wonder how I have attracted such great friends. Throughout my life I haven't attracted money or great influence and I'm okay with that. But, my friends...my friends are among the best people who have walked the planet. Brittian is one of those. I am wealthy in friendships for sure.

We were emailing back and forth today, trying to set up a time to get together and this is where we landed...with Brittian writing this:

"What I love about our conversations is the way that it is easy. There is only embrace. No wariness. It's good. I weary of selling things that should need no explanation; it's uneccesary with you and I appreciate that."

And, my words back....

"With words like these I am sure that I am loved. Thank you, friend."

Thanks for being my friend, Brittian.

On a Saturday

I was invited to speak on Saturday at a gathering of homeless people in Southeast Portland (or East County if that's what we're calling it these days). It was my third time visiting but my first time being in front with them. Their group is called, "A Place of Worship." I love the name because it is as welcoming as the people and it is just
" A place"
not
"The place."

The small talk upon walking into the building led into a confessional about various crimes and the felony statuses of so many of the people who call "A Place of Worship" their home. I'm not telling you any secrets because their lives are very open an unashamed. They love Jesus and they love getting together to make that be known over breakfast and lunch which are both served each Saturday.

I spoke about the importance of perspective and time. In fact, I said that perspective is everything because I believe it to be true. And we spend our time working from our perspective. Life can either be an unwelcome burden or a gift. So, time can either be something to pass until we are free from the burden of life or it can be the most amazing tool we have to enjoy the gift of life. How I spend my time says everything about my perspective.

A few weeks ago I lost my perspective. My perspective has a lot to do with being a child of God and believing that I am in His hands. But, I didn't really know what that meant. I struggled for a few days to find a picture of what it looked like to be in God's hands. Then this image came to me of a potter forming clay on a wheel.

I've never thrown clay so I had to watch some videos on YouTube to understand why the picture I had in my mind was so important. Here's the video I parked on:

"Still, God, you are our Father. We're the clay and you're our potter: All of us are what you made us." 

How does perspective affect what you do each day? Are you clear on your perspective of life? Are there things that you'd like to change about your perspective?

Please share...

Day 40 - She

Jenn is in bed sick with a sinus infection-ish, cold-ish kind of illness...one of those where her head hurts so badly that she tries to hover over the floor without putting a foot down. She has a box of Kleenex on the pillow, the phone tucked next to her and movies readily available to watch. After checking on her this morning, I left to the coffee shop where I sent out some resumes and worked on developing a talk I'm giving this weekend.

She called to check in on me and to ask how I'm doing. Very thoughtful, indeed. Then she said, "I don't want you to take offense at this but I hope you spend some time praying today." I understood what she was saying. Take a break. Take some time for myself. She is more aware than I of how little time I take for myself. It's one of the beautiful ways she compliments me.

This past weekend when I was in my funk, Jenn simply said, "I'd love to talk to you when you're ready." She's watched me crawl into my cave several times over the course of our marriage but it no longer worries her. I can tell. She knows it won't be long before I come out refreshed, resolved and ready to take things on. She didn't push anything. She just let me do what I do.

It is this knowing that continues to draw me to her. Jenn knows me, has seen my ugliest masks, has been with me in my greatest achievements, has consoled me in my failures and has sat with me in my losses. She loves me more than ever, or at least loves me deeply which is a kind of "more."

Today I am devoting myself to appreciating Jenn which is really not a challenge at all. The challenge is to learn to appreciate her with intention and tell her how much I appreciate her. She doesn't always know.

She'll know today...

Dipped in Purple Dye

Marcus Aurelius said, "Take heed not to be transformed into a Caesar, not to be dipped in the purple dye, for it does happen. Keep yourself therefore, simple, good, pure, grave, unaffected, the friend of justice, religious, kind, affectionate, strong for your proper work. Wrestle to be the man philosophy wished to make you. Reverence the gods, save men. Life is brief; there is but one harvest of earthly existence, a holy disposition and neighborly acts."

I know several famous people and I know this about them: their lives were better and they were happier prior to their success. I also know that for each of them their success did not hold the value they thought it would. Their lives are more complex now and they don't know who loves them or who is in relationship with them for their resources. They long for the good old days. They long to be anonymous and unrecognized but truly known.

Keep it simple. Love your neighbors. Love your family. Love God. And, remember there is one harvest.
Enjoy today.

P.S. The clouds have lifted though it is raining in Portland.

Unliked

I can't handle Facebook any longer. I'm un-liking it. It sounds like a confession made in front of a group of addicts and I don't think that's too far off. I've been unsubscribing from people that I don't know, and despite their label as "friends", they drive me crazy. Who cares what you ate for breakfast, that you went to the gym again, that your baby is eating cheerios for the first time or that your dog is chasing her tail and she's so precious? Seriously, we say things on Facebook that we would never bring up in normal conversation. Imagine walking up to a friend and having a conversation like this:

Friend: What's on your mind?
You: I just went to the gym for the third time today.
You: If you like what I said, tell me.

The real conversation would sound like this:

Friend: What's on your  mind?
You: I just went to the gym for the third time today.
Friend: What the hell is wrong with you?
You: Are you unliking my comment?
Friend: This is super awkward. Unliking? I don't care.
You: Well, you should care. I think I'm going to un-friend you.
Friend: You're a nut job. I'm ending our friendship before you un-friend me. You're fired.

I wonder how Facebook is changing the way we have conversations and  the ways we relate to one another. I wonder even more how Facebook is feeding our egos. The status update is our personal billboard where we typically post the best parts of our lives. Imagine posting things like this:

"I just stepped on the scale and I'm the heaviest I've been since high school"
"I watched 4 hours of reality TV today, at an entire bag of chips and drank 2 liters of soda"
"I hate myself"
"I'm having an affair"
"I haven't been to the dentist for 12 years"

I've never seen updates that are this honest. No, we typically post the best things or the most mundane and then call those things our life. People are like icebergs, though. You only see the top and the bulk is hidden. I just wonder if Facebook encourages us to hide even more of ourselves.

Oh, and the other day I saw an update that said if I didn't repost the religious message I just read, then I must love the devil. What? My status as a child of God will change if I don't digitally repost a sentence? There are others, too. Like the ones that say "if you love your wife repost this." Yes, this is how we show love in our strange world! 

If I do return to Facebook I'm going to return with an attitude of honesty. I know you really don't care what I'm doing right now. I don't care that much either. And, despite not reposting that religious sentence, I attended Christian church on Sunday, have not scrawled pentagrams into my arms and have not read the satanic bible...yet.

p.s. The above fictitious updates are not true about me. Like you care...

The Dark on Me

"How are Jenn and the kids", Joe asked yesterday. "Well, I woke up and immediately wanted to go back to sleep this morning. I think they saw the dark on me", I said. Depression. A lack of hope. I know I'm there when I don't want to socialize with the people I love. I know it's bad when I want to be anonymous and when I say things to myself like, "who gives a crap?"

The dark isn't as bad today.  But, despite the sunshine in Portland, my forecast is cloudy with a high chance of turmoil. Sadly, that is an improvement over yesterday. I rarely fall into dark times, although the past five years have brought several dark nights of the soul. La noche oscura del alma. How many, St. John of the Cross. 

My prayers become so simple, so rudimentary, so childlike during these times. They may be the purist prayers I pray. I mutter things like, "Jesus, help." I sometimes joke with Jesus and say, "uncle, uncle", like a 10 year old would say to his older brother as his arm is being twisted. My friend Tom once told me that the most powerful prayer he prayed contained only one word and that word was an expletive. He said that was the day he met God and his life changed. I believe him. I think God loves our honesty and hates our pious attempts to appease Him.

When I experience "the dark", I also experience a sophisticated simplicity that is so base, so human that it may be the most spiritual of all sensations. It is the cry of Jesus saying, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?"--which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" And the cry of David in so many of his songs. It is the cry of a child fearing that he has been abandoned. It is what happens just before that child is scooped up, held and reassured.

I wait.