Striking a Balance Between Loneliness and Connection

Lately it has become one of those things that we say all the time in recovery - we need community. AND WE DO!! This is true. This is very true. But it is not the only truth.

If the opposite of loneliness is too many relationships, then that is also a concern for long term recovery - especially unhealthy relationships. Too much intense contact with others can lead to serious health problems and - in many species of animals - death. Biologists call this “intraspecific competition”. It happens when the same species becomes so over-populated in a given area that there is a scarcity of resources. This leads to infighting; the weaker of the species loses; the strong prevail.

I’m not suggesting that we need to let the strong eliminate the weak. That would fly in the face of biblical perspective. (“The meek shall inherit the earth.”) But what I am suggesting is that the work of spiritual wisdom and maturity is to behave DIFFERENTLY from the animal kingdom. We are to grow up and help the weak build stronger muscles. We mature and realize that our work includes giving those who are marginalized a hand up, a way out of their vulnerability to predatory attack. This is what differentiates us from wild beasts. In theory.

For humans, our vulnerabilities come when we suffer the negative effects of bad relationships, selfishness and immaturity. Other people - and how we interact with them - cause the strongest negative emotions that we experience. It is the “other” or ourselves who cheat and disappoint. Jean Paul Sartre wrote: “Hell is other people.” A quote I love to hate; but for some people, this is true.

The mom who wants to get her child back from social services is perhaps unaware that this child begged to NOT be returned to the home where she was regularly left alone at night and went days without a meal. Mom believes that her daughter is lonely in foster care and would be better off with her. And she would. If mom was gaining in wisdom and maturity and able to care for her kid. I can count on one hand the number of people who have lamented their loneliness over the years but me and all the people I have ever met combined do not have enough fingers and toes to count the ways we hurt others and others hurt us. Just to be clear - loneliness is not great AND it may not be the central problem we need to address in order to become stronger spiritually.

But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

Matthew 6:6 NIV

Day 18: The Gift of Presence

One of the best gifts any of us could give or receive this year is the gift of presence - even if it requires us to be creative in making that happen. Spiritual friends learn how to set aside their own preoccupations and distractions. They listen, opening themselves up to the experiences of others. Mature spiritual friends have the awareness to attune themselves to the presence of God in the conversation as well. Soul companions learn how to give and receive dialogue. They consider conversation a sacred trust – cherishing, nurturing and holding the privilege as sacred.

I regret my youthful perspective when it came to my grandparents. As they aged, they were forced to make concessions in light of their declining health (which in my youth I could not understand). My grandmother bought a small, artificial tree. It was hideous, scantily clad with a stingy array of fake pine needles (dyed white) and a few miserly lights. It made Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree look like an award winner. I fussed and fussed about the tree. I told my grandmother in no uncertain terms that this particular tree was an affront to the meaning of Christmas.

Here’s what I wish I had known to do instead. I wish I had put down my childish ways and paid attention to what the tree was teaching me. My grandmother was getting tired. She was laying all earthly things aside. She hadn’t lost her Christmas Spirit, so much as she had learned that all the hoorah surrounding the commercialization of Christmas was meaningless. I could have learned a lot from her if I had listened better. My grandmother was getting to the essence of what is most important in life, not giving up the gift of Christmas cheer.

Again, when we know better, we do better.

I never thought my mother, the Queen of Christmas Cheer, would fall victim to the tabletop Christmas tree. But she did. When she started chortling about her clever way of throwing a sheet over that tiny tree and having Bob haul it to the basement for easy decorating the next Christmas, I knew this time what I was seeing. I applauded her ingenuity. I marveled at how those ornaments seemed to cooperate with the move up and down the stairs with Bob’s hurried steps. I knew in my gut that my mother was not well.

When we know better, we do better.

Day 18: The Gift of Presence

One of the best gifts any of us could give or receive this year is the gift of presence - even if it requires us to be creative in making that happen. Spiritual friends learn how to set aside their own preoccupations and distractions. They listen, opening themselves up to the experiences of others. Mature spiritual friends have the awareness to attune themselves to the presence of God in the conversation as well. Soul companions learn how to give and receive dialogue. They consider conversation a sacred trust – cherishing, nurturing and holding the privilege as sacred.

I regret my youthful perspective when it came to my grandparents. As they aged, they were forced to make concessions in light of their declining health (which in my youth I could not understand). My grandmother bought a small, artificial tree. It was hideous, scantily clad with a stingy array of fake pine needles (dyed white) and a few miserly lights. It made Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree look like an award winner. I fussed and fussed about the tree. I told my grandmother in no uncertain terms that this particular tree was an affront to the meaning of Christmas.

Here’s what I wish I had known to do instead. I wish I had put down my childish ways and paid attention to what the tree was teaching me. My grandmother was getting tired. She was laying all earthly things aside. She hadn’t lost her Christmas Spirit, so much as she had learned that all the hoorah surrounding the commercialization of Christmas was meaningless. I could have learned a lot from her if I had listened better. My grandmother was getting to the essence of what is most important in life, not giving up the gift of Christmas cheer.

Again, when we know better, we do better.

I never thought my mother, the Queen of Christmas Cheer, would fall victim to the tabletop Christmas tree. But she did. When she started chortling about her clever way of throwing a sheet over that tiny tree and having Bob haul it to the basement for easy decorating the next Christmas, I knew this time what I was seeing. I applauded her ingenuity. I marveled at how those ornaments seemed to cooperate with the move up and down the stairs with Bob’s hurried steps. I knew in my gut that my mother was not well.

When we know better, we do better.

Defensiveness is not a strategy

Years ago I had the grand privilege of teaching high schoolers each Sunday morning. Man, are they smart. And funny. And irreverent. And loaded with potential. If you do not have the privilege of really digging in and spending quantity (quantity - not quality) time with this group, it may be tough to appreciate the depth of their curiosity and their capacity to ferret out BS when they see it.

I had this one kid whose attendance was sporadic, and when he was there he was not exactly dialed in. This made me curious. Mostly he looked hung over on Sundays and there were some rumors about his extracurricular activities and the possibility that he might be a bad influence on the other kids in the group.

One day while buying groceries and junk food for my kids, his dad approached me about his son’s “religious education” and chastised me for his son’s sporadic attendance and his lack of bible knowledge (as evidenced by his inability to quote scripture verses from memory). This, according to him, was a reflection of my poor teaching and my lack of commitment.

So here is the thing about this story. This dad did not go to church. At. All. At the time I was super mad. But after I paused to prepare and really thought the story through, I felt an increased responsibility to this young man. I redoubled my efforts. I did NOT ask the kid to memorize scriptures but I did a few small things to increase his awareness that we teachers saw him. Cared about him. And without saying a word to anyone else about the encounter with the dad - who I would not have even recognized except for the fact that his kid was with him (yes, he said all this in front of his son) - we upped our game.

This was super hard. I wanted to “out” the dad for being a deadbeat. I wanted to whine and complain about all my weekly efforts and this dad’s absence from the life of his kid and I wanted to shout from the rooftops, “HOW DARE HE!!” But the problem with this approach was that it would not have been helpful to the kid, and that was my priority. That was in-line with my core value of loving kids as an expression of bearing God’s image. He already had one fun house mirror of a father image, did he need me tarnishing it further? No.

I do not know where this young man is today. I do know he made his way, eventually, to seminary. This is no guarantee that he has pursued a life of faith but I am pretty sure it required continued exposure to God’s word. I know that he has had a profound influence on my life. He is the kid that opened my eyes to all the ways we judge others and make assumptions about them. He made me realize I could do more - not because I had to, but because I wanted to.

It’s okay to learn even from people who don’t have it all together and even those who stir your anger. It’s okay to find inspiration in rumors of failure or in the face of criticism. How might God be getting your attention today through weird means and mean people?

Changing habits means telling the truth

Have you ever tracked every single morsel you put in your mouth on one of those tracking apps? I have. It’s eye opening. My nutritionist does not recommend this as a daily practice. She wants me to live my life and learn to use my eyes to see what I am eating and learn how to fuel my body wisely.

I continue to learn. But because of my propensity to not pay attention to details, my forgetfulness, my outright denial about some of my habits…that app can serve as helpful accountability. So long as I tell the truth.

There it is.

The fly in the ointment.

Tell the truth. Particularly - tell MYSELF the truth.

So here we go with a question for today: Just how seriously do you take your faith journey? If you had an app on your phone that could measure such things, how are you doing?

And I am really curious about this: What criteria would you use to assess your spirituality? What actions, thoughts, feelings and core values reveal the seriousness with which you take your relationship with your Higher Power?

“[He] said to me as I was walking by, ‘God takes this more seriously than you do.’ “

~ By the Book (view the video here)