The Poetry of Last Resort

I am not a poet;
But as the blood pounds in my ears
And the sighs rise in my chest,
I want to write about
Decades wasted --
When I thought so little of myself
And others thought less.

What is the point
Of balling my fists
Or raising my voice
Against my own foolishness?
I have filled years that will not return
With bitter remembrances of a prophecy
That I did hoped for but did believe.
And so it did not come to pass.

Instead, I write bad poerty that flows
From the constant spring of tears.
I grow tired of the deep well
That means I am always crying.

Oh, right. That's why I don't like people.

OK, fine; I actually do like people. Mostly. Sometimes. On their good days. And mine.

But I've been having a set of experiences this week that remind me why I don't like opening up to people and why I spend a lot of my time in protection/game face mode. I realized that I've been in a "friendship" for several years that was mostly me trying to make the other person feel admired and cared for while I spent most of my time feeling like I had to beg for this person's attention. Not unsurprisingly, that person really felt like we were good, close friends, while I felt kind of like the contents of poopy diaper. And I can't decide what pisses me off more about that situation: the fact that despite much progress over the past few years, there are obviously still situations in which I have the self-esteem of a gnat; or the fact that I even had to tell someone that yes, friends are actually supposed to initiate words and deeds of caring and concern for the other person from time to time.

I'm getting better at understanding who makes a good close personal friend for me; but I still have some hangovers from the time when I wasn't as willing to prioritize my emotional needs. It makes me so angry to feel like I have to fight with someone to explain that being my friend isn't a burden, and that I have more positive than negative characteristics to make spending time with me worthwhile. What a stupid, stupid conversation to try and have with anyone; why in heaven's name would I spend any amount of time trying to convince someone of that if they don't already see it and respond to it? I fell into an idiotic thing where I found someone I really admired and wanted them to like me so much that I decided I didn't need to be valued or respected in return. But I don't need to be liked that much.

It's part of my continued wrestling with what it means to have "friends" in my life. That word means a great deal to me, but gets tossed around in our society so casually; and then I end up feeling bad for not wanting to call people friends who I don't think I can trust and rely on and who honestly don't know me all that well and don't have any interest in doing so. It's not that I think being a friend is some sort of ball-and-chain obligation to be attending to someone else all the time; I certainly don't think of my friends that way. I feel like having to explain the actions and activities that make up a friendship makes it sound like a list of to-dos without any of the joy or magic: call and text every so often, ask someone how they're doing, ask them out for a meal, invite them to an event you know they'd like, let them call you at weird hours because they need to talk, spend time thinking about who they are and what they need and what interests them and what you like about them. A friendship is more than the sum of all those parts, more than a checklist of things you've done that day or week or month.

But I guess that's the point: if you have to explain to someone what it would mean to be your friend, that's not a trip either one of you should take together. Because the other person will only resent the list of tasks they've been given, and you'll resent being with someone who'd rather be doing something else.

Reflective practice

One of the things I often say to people who ask how I like graduate school is how much I appreciate the time to think, especially the time to reflect on past experiences and understand what I can learn from them. In my first semester, one of the things that struck me about my classes was how relevant they were to both my current and previous nonprofit management experience. One of my first classes even triggered a PTSD-like emotional response to an exchange with a professor that felt a little too much like certain unhappy conversations with my old board of directors; and while that doesn't sound like a good thing, it actually gave me a chance very early on to recognize feelings and defensive strategies that I was still carrying from my past position and to make a conscious decision to adopt some new ways of responding. (The class ultimately turned out just fine, BTW.)

As the year went on, it seemed like reflection on my past job moved into the background, and the focus shifted to my current organizational involvements in the real-world challenges I would bring to my class discussions and assignments. It was a shift that made sense, of course, and allowed me to become a reflective practitioner in real time as well as after the fact. The trend seemed like it would continue into this year; but as I realized that in planning some of my topics for course projects and papers, I noticed an unexpected sense of regret that I wouldn't be able to process more of that past experience through my current work.

Turns out, I'm not quite done with studying my past job, and I'm very glad for it. I'm taking a course on adaptive leadership this semester; and as I tried to figure out which organization to use as a basis for the papers I have to write, I realized that none of the present situations fit so well as the situation I found myself in just before I left my old job. There are some difficulties in trying to use that position and organization as the basis for my work: both I and the organization have moved on since then, and I've deliberately limited my contact with my past colleagues to provide some emotional space for all of us. I'm not at the point where I want to discuss the events surrounding my departure with most of the people directly involved in the conflict, because even a year and a half later there are still things that make me upset when I think about them.

But that is one of the advantages to studying the situation as a school project: I think it will help me to move past the old tensions and hurts and make the experience as productive as possible for my future development (as a person as well as a manager/leader). The reading material raises probing questions not only about what I thought was going on with other actors in the organization, but also about my own assumptions, values and behaviors. I need to be able to take a closer look at what I did as the situation progressed, because the fact of the matter is that many of my own strategies were just as maladaptive and unfruitful as those applied by my colleagues. In order to become a better colleague, manager and leader in my current and future roles, I have to recognize my own weaknesses as well as strengths and try to develop new ways of addressing change and conflict.

I'm hopeful about what will emerge from my writing, because I feel like I have many opportunities in the present to test out new methods for handling organizational situations. In particular, my challenge areas are dealing with politics, with personality conflicts, with my own tendency to inflexibility in how I want things done and a lack of openness to the suggestions of others, and with trying out new skills or activities that I haven't already mastered. I'd like my work to give me some additional layers of analytical process that can provide a buffer between what's happening around me and a my very sensitive emotional core; I don't want to become emotionless, but I want to get better at managing how my emotions are expressed and how I can use them to better advantage in my dealings with other people.

I think there's a lot of this that will be fun as well as deep and difficult. Case in point, the following excerpt from today's reading (The Practice of Adaptive Leadership, p. 94):

One way to understand the challenges raised by external loyalties is to use the metaphor of a vegetable stew. To make a good vegetable stew, you have to cook the ingredients just enough that they give up some of their original color and taste; otherwise, you'd have a pot of crunchy vegetables, not a stew. But if you cook the vegetables too much, each of them will lose so much of its distinctive qualities that you will end up with a pot of undifferentiated mush.

Imagine these vegetables as stakeholders, and suppose you get the stew just right. When those carrots and onions go back to carrot-land and onion-land, having sacrificed some of their distinctiveness in the interests of contributing to the stew, their old friends and family at home will noticed they have changed. "You ... smell like an onion," the carrots will say. "You're not one of us anymore. You've sold out. We sent you there to represent us and champion our views to the others, not to come back contaminated with their juices on you. What did they do to you there?"

Note to everybody: in no professional conversation anywhere does anyone want to hear about who did what with their juices. It's like my professor who said on the first day of class that he "gets off" on people writing down what he says when he lectures. Even if he didn't mean it literally, it is still just so gross.

But also, very funny!

The opposite of anorexia

Whatever that would be called, I think I must have it. You see, with anorexia, you look at yourself in the mirror and no matter how thin you are, what you see is a horribly fat person, so you keep starving yourself to try and make that image change. But for me, no matter that I'm apparently a "big girl"; when I look in the mirror I see someone nicely-shaped and attractive, not fat.

I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what other people see when they look at me. I look around on the street and on the T and most of the folks I see are definitely much thinner than I am; so I'm constantly searching for a person my size so I can say, "Aha, that's how I look." Sometimes I see women who I think are my size, but then I look at my arms and my thighs and they look decidedly larger than the other woman's. Then I see women who I think are heavier than I am ... but I keep wondering if maybe I only think they're heavier than I am, because I can't admit how large I really am. I know I'm not so special that no one else is my size! At any rate, it is all very confusing and mentally exhausting.

I spent five minutes in the bathroom today trying to convince myself that I really am fat. I don't know if it stuck, though; I don't feel fat. It's not that I am oblivious to my weight gain over the years - all I have to do is find an old pair of pants to remind me that I used to be many clothing sizes smaller. But it doesn't bother me as much as it seems like the world around me is telling me it should: the advertisements for every exercise plan and gym, the body mass index, even my mother (who, Lord love her, makes comments about my weight out of a sincere concern for my health given our family's medical history, which makes it hard to be mad at her). I guess I ought to feel more guilty about my weight, but what I feel instead is pretty happy. I'm physically active, I try to eat well for myself and the world around me, and I have clothes I love to wear. Excepting the periodic morning when I wake up cranky, I really do feel pretty, and witty, and bright.

I remain perplexed. What bothers me, I suppose, is that I don't know if other people see the same good things I see when I look at myself, and I'm always trying to figure out how I look in their eyes.

A bad Lent

I am having a very, very crabby day, mostly because I finally came face-to-face with the fact that I wasted my Lent in disobedience. Much crying ensued during the noon service, which didn't set a great tone for my afternoon and evening.

So my Lent resolution was to give up dating in thought and practice - no online sites, so trying to get the attention of guys at school or church or elsewhere, no flirting, no fantasizing, nada. This was supposed to be my time to take a break from my constant search for a man to complete my life, so that I could recognize that I am only complete in Christ.

It was hard for me to decide to do this at first, because a little flirtation with a friend seemed to be starting, and I wanted to enjoy it. In fact, when this idea came into my head, I recoiled from it like a shot ... which was how I knew this was an important topic to commit to. So I made the resolution; but it's become painfully clear as we approach the end of Lent (and honestly, well before that, if I'd been willing to admit it) that I never kept this commitment in my heart.

I still held on to the little flirtation with my friend. Maybe I didn't actively flirt; but I was always checking to see if he was online to talk, or if I could drop by for a visit. I welcomed it when we would kiss or cuddle on the couch, all the while pretending to tell myself that it didn't mean anything and I was just treating him as a friend. I found excuses to stay the night and cuddle, and got disappointed and irritated when he didn't pay enough special attention to me.

This particular friend wasn't the only problem. With other men I knew, I indulged in inappropriate fantasies, and seeking to spend a little extra time with them. When I was out in a club, instead of just enjoying the music and dancing and the company of my girlfriend, I was jealous and bitter because she got all the attention from the men in the bar and I didn't. All the time, I was still doing the thing that I had set out not to do during Lent: making my enjoyment of a situation and my sense of value dependent on the attentions of men, and letting that pursuit of attention consume my thoughts.

Sadly, this realization wasn't prompted by a sense of my own sin; it was prompted by extreme disappointment when I realized that my flirty friend had no interest in me beyond that. SO I did what I normally do: I got aloof and irritable and started imagining all sort of situations where I could give him the cold shoulder. And then I got to church, and I realized what I'd been doing all the morning, and all the six weeks before ... and finally, my failure to keep my promise to God became real to me.

I couldn't quite ask forgiveness this afternoon, because I am just so ashamed of this constant, willful pattern in my life that I never seem to have the discipline to break. The worst part is that God would forgive me, because I will just take advantage of His grace to sin some more. I feel like I can't keep asking Him to forgive me over and over again, when my supposed repentance is so fleeting.

Redirection

I have to say, my least favorite piece of advice when I am feeling depressed about my relationship status is, "It will come when you're not looking for it." I always feel bad complaining, because it is always so well-meant; but I find that statement singularly unhelpful for three reasons:

1. Dude, I'm depressed. If I had the ability to successfully project and believe in a future in which I felt content and fulfilled ... well, I wouldn't be depressed.
2. The flip side of that statement is, "It hasn't come because you want it and our looking for it." Which makes it my fault that I don't have a relationship because I want it so much, which only makes me hate myself for wanting it too much.
3. Wanting a relationship and not having it is no fun. If I knew how to not want it and be content, I'd be doing that already.

The other advice that often rankles is some version of "Don't focus on the relationship thing; go do other things and be fulfilled." Because despite the recurring temptation to hide out in my house and give up on the world in general, all I do is do other things: Go back to school and finish my degree. Start a nonprofit. Volunteer professionally. Go back to school for another degree. Volunteer in my community. Join a small group. Have lunch with friends. Travel with my family. Research CSAs and become a sustainable meat-eater. I can always find something new to do - and enjoy it - but that wave of loneliness is always waiting in the wings to swoop down in an unguarded moment.

I am going to try a new strategy, however; I don't know how well it will work, but I figure it is worth a shot. All of the above advice is about redirection: trying to put my thoughts and energy into something other than mating. But since I already have a lot of thought and energy going to other things, it seems clear that the problem is much deeper. There is a soul/spirit redirection that has to take effect at the root level of this struggle. Interestingly, that is something I have no ability to control; spirit transformation is God's alone.

So my only option is to try to put myself before him as much as possible, as much as I can remember to. In small group, we've been going through Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline, and just this past week we did the chapter on solitude. I was trying a little experiment on Saturday of not filling all of my transitional time (time waiting, time riding the bus or T) with activity (reading a book or the paper, texting, playing games on my phone), and instead, just being still outside and in. It was hard, and weird, but interesting; it's amazing what you hear around you when you're being still that you don't hear when you're filled with internal noise.

I think I'm going to give that an ongoing try. As a bus rider, I have a lot of transitional time! If I use that time in silence, alternated with reading my Bible, I think I might be more open to God's work in this area of my life. I'm not going to call it a resolution, because I never keep my resolutions; I like the notion of an experiment. My hypothesis: using the opportune spaces in my day for Spirit-time will develop an attitude of openness to and peace with God's will. The empirical method has been described. Results to be announced!

As intense as the Superman ride ... but less scenic

Reading my last few posts makes me laugh - I'm up, I'm down, I'm up, I'm down. I'd say I need to be on something, but I already am on something. Isn't that a hoot? If you think I'm a blast when I'm on meds, you should have seen me when I was off; amazingly enough, this is me being functional.

I'm going to go to bed, so I can go back to pretending to be normal in the morning. Ciao!

Unpretty

So, I was riding the T home from service tonight, convinced that my lack of life partner was a punishment for my many sexual sins. Well, that took all of a week.

In the course of my discussion with the Lord, which continued onto the bus and through my walk home, I was trying to figure out why I had such a difficult time releasing this relationship thing to the Lord's control. The very idea of waiting for His timing brings me such a terrible sense of distress, and that seems strange to me given how much else I have seen God do in my life and the lives of others. When I know the amazing things that happen when He is in control, why am I so convinced that I'm going to have to make my own way when it comes to dating and marriage?

And then this nagging little voice popped up in my head: "No one ever picks me." It's hard for me to believe that one day, without me fishing for it, someone is going to look at me and what they know about who I am and think, "There's a special person I'm really attracted to," because the last time that happened was over a decade ago (in July 1999, if you're curious about dates). That was also the last time any Christian man showed more than a "sisterly" interest in me. I look at my dating life here in Boston since college, and I see that the only time I date is when I put up the big "Available" billboard on the internet; no one else who gets to know me in my regular life - work, school church - ever seems to think I'm a worthy candidate.

No matter what I say in the front of my head, that history is always rumbling around in the back of it. And I wonder why it's like that, and what happened or what I did or what I'm like that makes me ... undesirable. I got fatter, that's for sure; 1999 probably marks the last time I could be described as "athletic," let alone slender. And I may have gotten more depressed; sometime the following year marked the start of my serious adult depressive episodes, after a break during the high school and college years that I didn't appreciate nearly enough at the time. Perhaps there's an air of dating desperation than began wafting off me about that same time, as 24 was the start of the period when I was supposed to get married according to my 20-year plan. Could be a big fish/small pond phenomenon: while might I look amazingly smart and sweet and normal among the pool of online dating ads, I may be only so-so in the ocean of the real world.

Whatever the reason(s), history has me convinced that I have to mount a determined campaign to make myself a dateable woman. For kicks, I'm equally sure that my bedroom skills are the only things about me in high demand; neither my intelligence, my accomplishments, my caring, nor my beauty (such as it may be) are nearly as memorable or worth keeping around. I am clearly the woman you sleep with, not the woman you marry ... which is a laugh riot for someone who so passionately desires to be married.

Of course, it is my fault in the end. Had I chosen to remain virtuous and obedient, I wouldn't have been able to become that woman in the first place. I can hardly whine because my choices have consequences; it's not like I wasn't warned.

I want to hand all this over to God, but I am deathly afraid that means committing to a life of celibacy and singleness, because I have lost the opportunity for anything else. And looking into a future of singleness feels like looking into a black hole, so filled with my own despair and loneliness that I'd rather just end it now. Or just throw up my hands, give up on finding real love and partnership, and resign myself to getting whatever I can, whenever I can. Only the fear of what God will do to me at the Judgment is keeping me from either course.

(To any single women reading this: Don't listen to me. Do not take on my screwed up thoughts as any judgment or prediction for your own lives. Go live the beautiful lives God has given you, and please do a better job at being thankful and contented than I am currently doing.)

I hate myself for being so ungrateful, so untrusting, and such a freaking whiner. Blah blah blah blah blah; get over it already, and go do something useful.

Sometimes I am very crabby ...

So, I just sent out an invitation for folks to go salsa this Saturday, which I guess means that I am not going to hide out like a hermit crab in my apartment. So what's your point?

The good news is that I am feeling better today; had a very good night at school, had lunch with some fellows alums of my last school, and cleaned out my porch - formerly known as the place where shoes go to multiply - in preparation for receipt of a lovely new table and chairs from the antique store down the hill. (They are closing! It's very, very sad; the proprietor is one of the sweetest ladies ever, and I loved going in there.) I talked to my mom, and she encouraged me to keep enjoying my social time and try to remember that people seem to enjoy being with me and maybe that means I can feel a little less self-conscious and uncertain. We'll see if I can establish a reasonable frame of mind by the time the weekend rolls around.

She did suggest that this is probably all part of the adjustment period from my boyfriend leaving, not to mention some emotional coloring from my grandfather's death. I'm just hoping I can get adjusted sooner rather than later, so I can be less cranky and cry-ey after all my major social outings. It leaves me rather tired.

Of course, I could help myself on that front if I went to bed before 2AM!! Adios, amigos.

Match

I just watched a screening of a very good movie, (500) Days of Summer, which I highly recommend seeing. It's a relationships movie, and a surprisingly accurate one - sometimes painfully so. I saw the ghosts of my own dating history in more than one scene.

[Please note: I will try to write the following without giving away too much plot, but if you're one of those people who absolutely hates even the hint of spoilers and might want to see this movie, don't keep reading. But do go see it - it's good!]

It's funny: I loved the movie, but I also kind of hated it for that accuracy, and at the end I felt sad. I suppose it wasn't a movie that helped along my desire to believe in happy endings, the way I want my romantic comedies to do (but I also at the same time hate them for giving me hopes that are never matched by reality). I didn't want to be reminded of my relationship misfires, and to wonder even now if I'm in another one but I just haven't had that moment of realization yet. There is a message intertwined in the movie about how right it is when you know you found the one ... but I think I'd feel much better about that message if I was already sitting in that place of certainty.

I couldn't help but think of all the men I've dated in my life, most of whom have found life partners - ironically, those are the ones who squashed my heart like a pancake. It's not that I wished them evil, or an eternity without finding happiness in love (at least, not after I sufficiently recovered from the heartbreak); but I certainly didn't want them to find it before me. It seems unfair somehow that they should go so quickly - sometimes directly - from my misery to their destined mate, while I am still left wondering.

It also kind of made me want to have a "future" conversation with my boyfriend, which I had just gotten comfortable with the idea of not having for a while. If we already know that we have major differences in some of the things we believe and want, should I cut my losses before I get even more invested than I already am? Can I still manage to get out without getting hurt? Our relationship seems so good right now, and has always felt open and honest and comfortable and peaceful and consistently enjoyable and pretty matched in caring - not like my others - but I am a) historically prone to ignoring big red flashing signals that say "Turn back from this relationship!" and b) used to having the rug pulled out from under me just when I think a relationship is making good progress.

I think I've been pretty cautious this time, and I don't think I have my rose-colored glasses on; but that doesn't mean I'm not still waiting to find out exactly how and when this will end. While I try not t be such a downer in my daily interactions, I feel somewhere in the back of my mind that the best I can hope for I that the end doesn't totally suck, and that I get over it fast. Much like one of the characters in the movie, I am pretty sure that this soulmates/true love/find your life partner nonsense is a big pile of stinky poopy. I do have friends whose marriages seem to suggest otherwise ... but I think I am not destined to share their happy fate.

Gee whiz - from my description, you'd think this was a terribly depressing movie! It's not, though ... it's very cute and funny and smart and you should absolutely go see it; despite my mournful reflections, I truly enjoyed the film. And my dire prophecies probably have much more to do with fear of the past than any particular prediction of future behavior. While I don't know how long my boyfriend and I will be together, I am thoroughly thankful for the wonderful time that we've had so far, and I plan to enjoy all the good times that remain for us. I do hope that one day I can let go of that bad history, that it will lose its power to rise up, remind me, and run me over all over again.

Cheers! ;-)

When Church = Soul-Wrenching Torture That You Only Put Yourself Through Because You Made a Commitment to Go Until Easter

That's right, chicas y chicos, another awesomely awful blog post. Let's all be glad that Easter is in 2 weeks.

So, today was the 4th week of Lenten church attendance; I also went last week when I was in Viriginia with my sister. That week was kind of sad and reflective, but more somberly thoughtful that spirit-wrecking bucket of tears. It seems those home runs are reserved for the home church.

"Delight yourself also in the LORD, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass." -- Psalm 37:4-5

I used to believe that passage wholeheartedly; it was one of those comforts that I could repeat to sustain myself in rough times. Even if things seemed dark right now, if I trusted in God, let him direct my steps as Proverbs 3:5-6 says, He knew what I needed and what I deeply desired, and He would bring it in just the right time.

I don't really believe that anymore.

"My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, and from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry in the daytime, but You do not hear; and in the night season, and am not silent." -- Psalm 22:1-2

It is, of course, fascinatingly symbolic how my whole experience of this Lenten season is so perfectly summed up in this Psalm, quoted by Jesus himself on the cross. And though I am not literally being pierced, or surrounded by evildoers casting lots for my clothing, the desperation of the first half of the Psalm could not more accurately reflect my inner state. This does make me think I must be going through some Easter object lesson, in which case I am incredibly sincere in my prayer - nay, plea - for a transformation and resurrection of the spirit that will be just as clear, powerful, visible and tangible as that Easter miracle. Two weeks more is about all I can handle of this emotional horror show.

I finally talked to my pastor a bit after service, because he was available in the prayer corner; this is a small blessing I will try to recognize and be thankful for, because I probably would be in pretty bad shape if I hadn't gotten some prayer and talking through some portion of what is going on. I told him I keep feeling like I'm desperate for a community of Christians where we are intimately involved in each other's lives and going on this crazy journey together; but it never quite materializes, seeming to occasionally appear and then disappear just as I get excited about it. I feel like I'm always hearing this "rely on God alone" message, and like over the last couple of years He even started to pull out from under me the bits of community I felt I had or was gathering; and maybe some other folks are good at going it alone with just them and Him, but I am not built for that, and I can't get past that hard fact of my need to be with other people, other partners in my walk, no matter how hard I try to make it without.

So I don't understand why He would make me that way and then seem to constantly withhold the deepest desire of my heart. I have no cohesive posse here in Boston, no life partner, and I am tired of trying to patch community together all the time from disconnected strands that never weave themselves into a whole, and that I always have to juggle and hold onto to try and create some semblance of a safety net. If God knows that I need this, so much that I have been crying out to Him because of its lack for more than a decade, why would He not povide it? Why make me who I am, and then just leave me here so sad and lonely? In my limited human perception, it's hard not to perceive that as a terrible cruelty.

Look, I know that I am physically healthy, materially affluent and secure, and that there are any number of severe emotional and mental traumas through which He has not put me. I am grateful for all of those things, and I do not take them lightly. I work really hard to try and keep my emotional woes in perspective. But this is not the self-centered whining of a girl who has everything casting about for something to complain about. I feel crushed to the point of despair by this loneliness and emptiness that never is satisfied, I cannot think about these things without sobbing uncontrollably, and I spend most of my time deliberately choosing not to think about any of this so I can continue to function and find reasons to get up in the morning. When I let myself think about these things, it is really tough to figure out why in the world or beyond it I am still here and breathing. I am tired, worn out, and exhausted to my bones when I have to be confronted with this aspect of my emotional and spiritual life.

I'll keep my commitment through Easter, because I said I would. If nothing changes by then, I really don't know what is next ... So I am going to try and hold out what is left of my faith and believe that God is listening, and that he will move me to the second half of Psalm 22 in a form that is not mysterious or incomprehensible, but in a way that a small, scared person like me can know and trust again. I hope you all will pray for me.

Returned, Lost

I was going to write this two weeks ago, but then the second half of the story wouldn't have happened yet.

So, I got Lent off to a bad start by not going to Ash Wednesday service, but I made two resolutions anyway: to tithe my spending every week, and to go to church every Sunday I was in Boston. The first one is going fine, but that's not what this story is about.

I went to church on Sunday, March 1, the first Sunday of Lent and Communion Sunday at my church. Humorously, I was assigned to be the reader at the 6pm service; I actually thanked the Lord for that, because it helped to make sure that I would start off keeping my resolution. As I read practiced my passage that Sunday afternoon, I had to laugh: the passage in 1 Peter chapters one and four was all about understanding suffering as a normal part of the Christian life; how it refines your faith, connects you to the sufferings of Christ, moves you toward salvation. The Lord's sense of humor amused me ... and the amusement continued as praise song after praise song talked about reliance on him, being stripped of everything else to depend on him. The prayer of confession from Psalm 51 asked that the Lord "renew a steadfast spirit within me ... Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me."

If you've ever had one of those days where events around you seem to all be sending a very direct, very personalized message, it was that kind of experience. The obvious conclusion was that all the trials of the last couple years were about training me to totally depend on God, and giving me understanding of a teeny, tiny portion of the anguish Christ experienced. A conversation with my mother later that evening seemed to confirm this, and even to provide additional comfort in realizing that what God had seemed to break, he eventually restored, perhaps even better than it had been before.

I was driving back from the Poconos last Sunday, so fast forward two weeks to today.

I just tried writing a whole paragraph about what I felt today, but I can't get the words right. It comes out too flippant, and overdramatized at the same time. "Disconnected" sounds too technical, too calm; I wasn't disconnected in service today. I was lost, in a church full of people singing to and speaking about a God I feared I had no relation to anymore.

I keep trying to write about this afternoon, but I still can't find the words to describe it, and ultimately I'm not sure the details of my afternoon are relevant. The point is this: it's not that I don't believe in God. It's not even that I think he doesn't take care of me; my family and I are all well, I have a good job, a good home, an income to take care of both needs and luxuries. But I don't know if he cares what happens to me on the inside, if I am hurt or confused or so broken down in spirit that I can barely walk from one room to another. It's like it doesn't matter, so long as I get up and go to work and do my duties like I'm supposed to.

He doesn't speak to me or comfort me in my distress, not even if I beg and plead in tears for some sign that will help me know he's not just waiting to see how long I'll go before I fail and lose my faith completely. I hear and read his words but there seems to be no love in them, just a set of vague orders that often leaves me wondering what I'm supposed to do to get it right. Every time I try to pray, I don't really know who I'm talking to anymore.

It was easier not going to church, because then I didn't have to come face to face with the reality that my faith feels all hollowed out, with only a narrow shell of habit and regulations still holding it in place. I liked not dealing with it, because then I didn't feel so abysmal. I guess I'm going to try and work through this with someone who can give me good counsel, and hope for an outcome I can live with.

Ambition

I think people get frustrated when they don't think I have enough drive to "fulfill my potential," when I don't have the kind of plan they think I should have for moving forward with my life.

It was strongly implied in a conversation this evening that I am - or am about to be - a 32-year-old has been prodigy who has nice talk but hasn't really shown that she can do anything significant. And I get asked, what's my plan, how have I determined that I'm going to lay out the next 5 to 10 years of my life to achieve my goals?

I don't really have plans like that anymore - not since my early 20s when I discovered that having plans didn't have all that much to do with what actually occurred in my life, and that if I was going to be content with the reality of where I was I needed to stop trying to compare it to a plan I'd developed when I was a teenager that became less relevant every year to my real life. It wasn't a farfetched plan, either, like being a rock star: it was a plan to graduate, be married, have kids, have a certain career, and all by certain times. If I hadn't let most of that plan go, I'd still be miserably bewailing my overall failure to achieve anything I'd set out to do. Anything that was in that plan that has even a remote relationship to my present life happened in quite a different way and time from any of my planning; and what hasn't happened ... well the fact that I'm still partly holding onto those pieces as I originally envisioned them isn't doing me any emotional or psychological favors.

So I don't have these long-term ambitions with time deadlines, in 5 years I want to be here, in 10 years there. Besides being married and with kids (the parts of my original plan I'm still grasping at), I honestly don't know. Grad school sounds interesting and fun for the next couple of years, albeit expensive and possibly something I can't afford, especially in the current credit market. The other thing that I'm really passionate about - this deeply sustainable communal living thing - depends as much on finding a whole bunch of other people at the right time as it does on me wanting it or having some plan about how it might work; so my control over that outcome is severely limited.

Or maybe I'm just being lazy, and if I were more driven and directed I'd be out there pounding the pavement until I found those people. Or I'd be making myself a nuisance hanging out at the Greenhaus until I figured out how to join them. And visiting every Christian community I could find and reading every book about it until I had absorbed everything I could.

Y'know what? I just realized that I never dropped that plan. Everything I've done in my adult life has still been about trying to get there, and trying to do the course corrections around life's twists and turns to make it happen. I did finish school, and in a design discipline (although not the B.Arch. I'd planned), and I did start my own design business (although not the firm I'd originally envisioned). I do teach and mentor, and I am focusing a significant part of my life on serving my community (or trying to, anyway). My problem? There's only that one thing left to start that I haven't started on yet, and I don't know how to begin to get there, and nothing I've tried has seemed to point me in the right direction, and I don't even know what the options are for what to do next ... and all the things I'm trying to pursue right now feel like placeholders, because I know that what I really want - the first thing that comes to my mind every time someone asks me - is to have the community of my partner in a sustainable life and the children that we work to raise to make a better world.

That's always been the core of my whole plan, the thing I wanted and fantasized about more than anything else, and the most important contribution I ever thought I'd make to building the world and building the Kingdom. And I have no idea what to do about that.

Ask me anything - but don't ask me that!

So, as I was thinking about fooling one's self and needing to just make decisions and integrity and such, I can't help but think about my faith. And while I often want to be challenged to be a person of greater integrity, I also can't help but think about the area where I don't want to be challenged and I don't want to listen. Right now - as so often in my life, really - that area is in my sexual relationships and sexual expression. In this place, I am exactly like those I just criticized: trying to still do it, but consoling myself by saying that I'll do it less harmfully, less destructively than if I were just sleeping with everybody.

There are reasons for this - companionship is an area where I have deep-felt needs and an intense fear that God won't take care of me. It isn't just that I'm trying to be obstinate, and I do wish I could trust more. I don't know, does that make a difference? If you can come up with a real reason and not just a preference or laziness, do you get a little more grace with the change? Or ultimately, does it all wash out just as disobedience, as refusal to do what is right and necessary? Am I temporarily redefining necessary just to let myself avoid the question?

The dating dance

So, this first part of dating someone new is a very funny, odd time, and it's amusing to me to be experiencing this again. The whole set of questions and emotions: how soon do you call after a date? When are you allowed to ask where this is going? To PDA or not to PDA? How much do I want to tell my friends or family, and when? Is this just for having someone to be social with? Do I like him like him? Does he like me? How much does he like me, exactly? What would our kids look like? (That last one is a joke ... I'm not that crazy!)

Anyway, it turns out that I'm developing a strong interest in one of the people I've gone out with, enough that we've seen each other a few times and that I've started to develop that little nervous I-really-want-him-to-be-as-interested-as-I-am feeling. Of course, because I'm such a pessimist when it comes to the possibility of my developing a successful relationship, I'm constantly surprised by the fact that he does seem to like me, and I'm waiting for the catch. My sister thinks - rightly - that I'm a bit of a nutcase for doing this; I guess the one positive is that at least I know that I'm being nuts, so hopefully I'll be self-aware enough not to let it become self-sabotage.

Plus, it's only a couple of weeks in, so I probably need to stop over-thinking everything and just enjoy myself. To my credit, I do recognize that I'm having a fabulous time, and I'm frequently willing to just be content with that.

"I'm so bored, I could die."

In Sex and the City, that line preceded a woman falling to her death out a Manhattan apartment window. And while I am walking on a bridge over the Charles River, I've no intention of tumbling to my watery grave.

That said, I can understand the sentiment. Today is one of those days where I'm just tired of everything - tired of working, of being by myself, tired of trying to be independent and self-sufficient, tired of not being able to afford things, tired of searching for a partner, tired of people being mean to me at work or in social situations. I'm sure someone would say that at least some of those items have solutions within my control, but I'm also tired of that: of working on myself, of never being right, of never being done. I'm also tired of being angry, tired of feeling put upon, tired of being bitter, and mostly tired of being tired!

I'd like a little vacation, but I think the only "vacations" you get to take from life are the permanent kind. Too bad that ... but then again, vacations never quite work either, because you always end up having to come back and catch up on the real world. Ah, well; guess I keep plodding along until I figure out what else to do.

Mood swings

One week, I'm happy and loving my life and optimistic about all that is before me and around me; the next, I'm thinking that there's no point to my life here in Boston, and no point moving home or anywhere else, except to keep aimlessly living until something puts me out of my misery. Really, how am I supposed to remain balanced or functional when I can go from one extreme to the other like that?

Happy New Year!

Well, it's new to me, anyway - as of last week, I'm 32. :-)

I had a fantastic birthday. I got to celebrate with friends and family and really nice strangers; I got to do things I totally enjoy; and I came out of last week feeling beautiful, feminine, sexy, loved, confident, and remarkably content. While sometimes I think it's funny that I'm now solidly in my 30s, it's not a bad thing at all - and today I'm very happy about who I am and where I am.

There are varying pieces of the puzzle that have contributed to this, many of which I'll share over the next few posts. Some things - like my relationship with the Lord and whatever's going on with my job - are still in process, and may not be settled for a while yet. But today? Today is a good day, and I'm very happy to be here.

Crossing the line

There are some things where you don't even need to ask if they are wrong. So what could possibly compel you to do them?

There's no beating around the bush on this one - I've been asked to become the lover of a married man. It's not necessary to remind me of all the reasons why this is horrible, beyond wrong, wrong isn't even a sufficient word. And yet I haven't said no; in fact, I've encouraged this flirtation with full knowledge of his marriage since it started.

I could say I don't know why I'm even considering it, but of course I do. I am tired of being so lonely - and yes, you can be that tired and that lonely. I'm tired of people telling me the virtues of waiting and trusting and how you don't need to rely on men and sex to build you up and to have fun. But you know what? That's a whole lot easier to say when you can rest secure and smug in the knowledge that someone has had sex with you, kissed you - hell, touched you - in the last 2 years. I feel like I'm dead to a whole part of myself, and this person who made this offer makes me feel alive again. He remembers me as a passionate, sensual, beautiful woman; and I need for someone to remember that. I need someone to pay more than lip service to it.

The fact that this is such a deep emotional issue for me is reason #1, from a purely selfish perspective, why I really do need to say no, and why I probably will. While from a physical perspective the appeal of this liaison is undeniable, this person is one of the last people I'd ever trust with my emotional fragility. I'd have to be like a rock, untouchable and unbreakable, to get through this unscathed, and I'm very easily breakable right now. It's not too difficult to see the extreme emotional danger in this one; it's like stepping in front of a moving train. Duh.

And again, staying self-centered - we're not even talking about the effects of this whole business in the life, mind and heart of the other person in question - the damage to my relationship with God and to my witness is acute. I'm already simmeringly upset with God about this whole no-life-partner business, but I've been quietly angry, angry but still trying to stay outwardly obedient; this is open, flagrant defiance. I don't know if you get forgiven for that ... this could be the time when God finally throws up his hands and gives me over to my sinful desires. That scares me - perhaps you really can be separated from the love of God, with no chance of getting back - but (maybe for all the wrong reasons, but still) the witness thing bothers me even more. I've seen how my sexual sin changes not only people's opinions of me but their opinions or understanding of God or willingness to seek Him because of me. God is not low and base like I can be, He's not distant like I act like He is, He's not unfaithful like I accuse Him of. But no one would know that from the way I behave, and I hate that what I do reflects on Him in people's minds, unjustly.

I had judged one of my friends a few years ago when she was so upset about the way that her romantic relationships had gone (devastatingly) that she turned away from her relationship with the Lord. I was very foolish; I should know by now that whenever I start judging anyone from some sin they've committed, that's usually the signal that I'm destined to take that same fall not too long from then. It's not that she wasn't going astray, and that I'm not going astray ... but I perhaps need to remember how easy it is to do, before I give someone "counsel" from my self-satisfied perch. I'll be down on the ground myself soon enough.

I kept hoping that I'd be saved by circumstances: that the logistics of making this happen just wouldn't work out, and the decision would be made for me. I wanted to be able to say "no, I can't" without having to say "no, I won't." I'm not going to get off that easy, I don't think.

The awful irony? I just gave a beautiful, powerful reading about marriage and covenant commitment and trust at my friend's wedding. To be honest, I'm a little surprised I was allowed to do that without being struck down for hypocrisy. Perhaps I should take that as my final stop sign to keep me from stepping on the tracks; might be wise to pay attention.

(Author's note: I put a stop to it, right after I wrote this ... but don't think there's not at least half of me that regrets it.)

It's gonna take patience and time

At least I have one of those. :-)

So, my hot-headed flash of job-crisis is over; not that there aren't still things that need to be worked out in my job, but I've gotten over the immediate and compelling urge to quit and retire to an organic farm. I think I need to set a new rule that I'm not allowed to take any action in response to any emotional developments (positive or negative) in my life for a period of 4-5 days. That seems to be about the time I need to have my reactions and then find my balance.

I have some interesting challenges ahead of me. The one that I'm most curious about is the need to control my very transparent facial reactions that so clearly communicate my opinions on a matter even when I take effort to control my verbal expressions. At first, i was really wrestling with this, because I have no idea how to make my face not say what I'm thinking; but then my colleague-confidante this afternoon said it wasn't really about separating my face from my thoughts, but achieving the kind of peace and equilibrium in my thoughts that allow me to accept other people's suggestions and comments without having them immediately disturb me. Actually, I'm not sure I have any idea how to do that, either ... but I think it may be more feasible, although it will require a great deal of mental re-training. In the meantime, I might just have to tell people to ignore my face and know that my initial reaction is not necessarily where I'll end up on an issue.

Also, I think I definitely need to continue studying what it means to be a leader. I'm OK at it in some ways, but I'm not yet that person who truly knows how to gently guide a group toward a desired end; how to balance between exerting visible influence and stepping back; how to know when to throw my weight around and what exactly that "weight" really is. Part of this is just developing skill over time, but I also think I need to do more reading about what others have thought and come up with on the topic. Book suggestions welcome!

Another suggestion was that I need to work more to build up a) my relationships with my allies in my work environment, and b) my personal "board of directors" who helps guide me in life challenges. With relation to b), I've got a pretty kick-ass group as a foundation so far; but what I think is missing are other people who are in very similar work positions and environments to me and facing some of these same challenges. Basically, I think I need to add some corporate executives to my "board", and some non-profit leaders. Come to think of it, I need some of those on my organization's board as well!

Unlike my roommate situation, I actually feel like I can find a way to approach this and both get the things that I need and satisfy the things that others may want. That's a nice feeling, so I don't have to end up writing a post titled Failed, #2. I think I have to learn to be more secure in myself, and content with who I am, so that I can act in boldness and confidence but submit when needed. It's tiring to always be in this uncomfortable, defensive posture toward so much of the world around me. I'm trying to figure it out - with my friends and family, when I do feel comfortable, why is that, and how did I get there?