Quo Vado?

I haven’t written in over a week, and even as I sit here in the Barnes and Noble, I don’t really know what to say. BH moved out last Saturday and things in my life are definitely not like they were before. I have a temporary roommate. Alice is interesting, if a bit odd. It’s the first time I’ve ever lived with someone who routinely went to bed after I did. Add to that the fact that she does not have a job - temporary or any other kind - and doesn’t even appear to be looking for one it’s different. I don’t feel comfortable in my own home. I feel like my space has been invaded and taken over by aliens - ok, so there is just one alien, but I don’t feel comfortable there anymore and it feels more like just a place to sleep. Alice laughs explosively, and I feel like I’m to be performing. Odd.

I was reading before this entry just a bit earlier and I noticed how often I used the word crazy. I wonder why that is, what seems so crazy? Is it something being out of place? Is it just something new? Is it I wanting to make something more than it is? It could be all of those things and more. I’ll have to ponder that some more.

I just changed the margins of this document and now I don’t feel so special, I lost a whole page changing the side margins from 1.25” to 1”. Bummer, now I’m not some kind of great voluminous writer. Not that I really thought that I was anyway, just dreaming that I had a way with words that translated well onto paper. Unfortunately, it only sounds snappy as it comes out of my mouth and I can never remember it later.

Spiritually, I feel disconnected from God. I’m not talking to him in a way that would be helpful to grow. I’m definitely not listening to Him and because I’m not in touch with His word I’m not really trusting that He has my best interests in mind. Silly as it is, I’m resisting spending time in my bible or thinking about what God wants from me. I’m trying to deal with not measuring up to God’s standards by ignoring what He has to say. The bible has so much encouragement and so many promises to offer me, even evidence of promises he’s already kept. Even more amazing, the bible holds the truth - God’s love for me doesn’t change. It’s not a bank account I add and subtract from with my actions. Jesus has already sacrificed His perfect, sinless life so that I am not saved by some balance sheet. I am saved because Jesus loved me enough today, with all of my flaws, idiosyncrasies, imperfections and sins, to die on the cross so that I can make the choice to live my heart with a free heart unhampered by the guilt and self-flagellation of my sins. Bottom line: Jesus died so I could fix my eyes on His Father and Him and not worry about the balance sheet. There is nothing that can be earned.

The actions God looks for have to start from the gratitude in the heart. If I work from anywhere but there, it’s just the motions and it buys nothing. The question then is what does my heart want? Does it want to be obedient to God who loves me unconditionally even if I screw up the obedience? Do I choose to please God by focusing on the desires of his heart?

My thoughts got ended yesterday because it was time for therapy. I am angry with myself for being such a pushover. It seems so difficult to really be your own person, to not be controlled by outside influences. Why did I use the word controlled in the last sentence? Its not that I was controlled by other’s influence, but the pull of their influences was extremely strong and I did not choose to fight the influence. That is a known part of who I am, I am well aware that I have to be careful what I hear about others because I often allow what I hear to color my view of them. As much as I test the world around me against some mysterious in my head standard what people say about others doesn’t always get held up to the same standard. BA talked about putting pressure on the ‘system’, also known as my coping mechanisms to spur them to change. That is what therapy has been about for the last several months. I look at it as deconstructing who I am, and for homework BA wants me to look at the characteristics of people who aggravate me. The first two people who come to mind are CR and CH; I was just thinking about it, LM would make another good person to dissect. Crazy isn’t it, I’m going to take theatre skills and apply them to sorting out my brain. I need to read the word and pray before I get to service tonight, so I’m going to end the fun and games here.

Sunday at the church meeting, SG said something about a letter written by Henry Krite(?) about the state of the church today. Yesterday, I got my hands on a copy of it. The letter is long; its intended audience was ministry leaders and teachers. It wasn’t intended to be published church wide, but some things cannot be kept a secret. I read the letter yesterday and have spent a good portion of the last thirty some hours trying to figure out what I think about it. I think I’m not surprised that the legalism happened. I think that I am surprised at how relieved I was when I read it. It was as if someone confirmed that I did not perceive something necessarily incorrectly. The letter confirmed some of the ideas I had rebelled against in the beginning. Unfortunately, for me, the rebellion that I was having didn’t overcome my desire to belong or my willingness to compromise to avoid conflict. I have a sense that “others” are expecting me to be angry, or somehow mad at leadership for this systemic legalism and wanting to look good and trying to control my life and other’s lives so that nothing ‘bad’ happened to make leaders look bad. But, I’m not angry. I’m sad that it had to happen, but I’m not angry with the leaders. I may be getting angry with myself, in the last three and a half years at worst I’ve invited the control over my life, and at best did nothing active to stop it.

Jan said something in passing today that’s got me thinking again. What a dangerous thing, thinking. She said that the color of my hair, the new improved light copper brown, is just a hint of the fireball I really am - or something to that effect. My first thought was “I wish”, my second thought was the idea that they may be true is something farcical. Like I have that kind of expanded firebrand power or energy. I’ve thought about it for a couple of hours now and let the idea float around in my head for a while, and crazily enough she may not be wrong. I’m I a fireball in disguise? Have I so muffled the excitement and energy that is me that I can’t even see it except for occasional glances where it pops through the surface, however unwittingly?


SUBMIT - DARE - LOVE - CELEBRATE - SERVE - LIVE

The five points of my mission all coming off of the centerpiece TO LIVE are all action, fireball kinds of words. They are not words without passion, but rather ones that inspire passion. They are words fundamental to leadership. They are words that challenge. They are words that color outside of the lines. I unwittingly wrote a mission statement that changes my focus. Its scary really, how the fluid side comes up and challenges me routinely. That part of me has been buried by that which if find security in for so long, but it keeps fighting to be heard, in small ways it challenges who I am on the outside. The question becomes, which part is the real me? Am I a straight arrow with a firebrand streak or am I a firebrand with a practical streak? Ah, the questions of balance. No, not so much balance, but rather a question of true blue, unafraid, unscarred reality. I cannot go denying the truth and the reality of my past, but who I am doesn’t have to be dictated by the sorrows and deep cuts of my past. I can make it back to the irreverent 4 year old that was brave enough to take on the world - or at least the preconceptions of her neighbors. Amazing isn’t it - what you loose.

So, I was thinking about how to answer the question, “How are you?” while I was in the shower. I don’t really know the answer to that question. I’m alive and in one piece. Nothing that I know of in my body is broken or not functioning at an acceptable level. My brain however is occupied with trying to solve, or at least figure out the parts, to this war that is happening inside of me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so split in two and at a loss of how to deal with it. Yeah, it’s back to that linear/non-linear discussion of who I am and the parts that make up the whole.

I’ve got to change the language to describe the parts though because the mental picture I get with them doesn’t match how I see the separate parts of who I am. I think rigid and fluid would be better descriptors. I do find a lot of comfort and understand (and find comfort in understanding) rigid systems. Systems with solid boundaries and known behavior patterns ‘the mechanical ‘linear’ sort of system gives me comfort. These solid systems however, don’t give me pleasure and I often rebel against the boundaries of these systems. There is beauty in how the pieces and parts fit, there is amazing resilience shown to get all of the system to work together, rigid systems inspire me because someone had to figure out how it all went together. There had to be some heart in the creation of the rigid system because the dedication required to achieve a nearly perfect system is astronomical and sustained dedication can only come from the heart – you’ll burn out before you achieve the system if you didn’t have passion for it.

Who I am is not rigid, it is fluid. I have in the past fought to be fluid. I’m fighting now to not be defined by what I do, to not have the fact that I’m an engineer define who I am. Isn’t that why I fight and get disgruntled when people rush to define me by what I do? My heart doesn’t want to be known as solely an engineer. I want to be seen as something more than this rigid framed, by the book kind of person. I want the fluidity of who I am to be known. Being fluid doesn’t mean that A+B ? C, it means that only A is defined before you begin the process. The touchstones of how I am fluid are my love of the pure form of impromptu, my love of music and the theater, and my routine tries to not see the world in just black and white.

So, my problem today is that the rigid part is trying to suppress the fluid part into oblivion. I don’t know how to help quiet the rigid body and help it learn to coexist in me.

I am coming apart at the seams. My brain is going to leak out of my ears soon and I may split into two pieces. I don’t know anything but that I want to cry. There’s no reason that I can see behind it I just want to close my eyes and cry a new river. I cannot get a handle on anything going on in my head. It’s as if the circus is in town and all three of the rings are happening at once and somehow I’m trying to focus on them. Is this what Brett calls “stress on the system”? If it is, I hope that it causes the system to change. What it would be good to do now is to change the behavior or coping patterns, which will encourage actual change. I don’t want to think anymore so I’m going to stop.

I am so screwed up. I went into see BA today. What a mess. We went from me being “stuck in the mud” to some free form association where a different part of me makes up the allegory I use to describe how I am. Its great and it works its just that this particular allegory freaks me out. So, the emotional, non-linear piece of me is represented by the mud, the logical, linear piece of me is the car, I’m in the car trying to drive it out of the mud, and scared to death of getting out of the car and getting dirty. Mixing the two bothers me. I’m ok with both of them as separate entities, though I am more comfortable in the nice linear thinking mode, sinking into the mud didn’t bother me too much its when the muddy me got into the car that I had issues. The idea of mixing the two pieces drives me crazy. I want them to be separate, I want to only deal with my emotions when I deem it an appropriate time, and inside the nice logical care is never that time. Dirtying up my life on a regular basis is bad.

What really gets me though is I don’t really like straight lines and purely linear things. I find no beauty in things that don’t flow. So, this person without emotions who I’m trying to make myself into by suppressing the emotions I would find little beauty in. I would appreciate the cleanness of the lines, and that it was straightforward and that I would always be able to predict the responses, but I would find no beauty in it. I’m trying to make myself into a cold, feeling less person who I would hate. How disturbing is that? Why am I trying to mold myself in that way? Why am I so dedicated to making myself ugly?

I repeat and say so often that I am not defined by being an engineer, or being smart, or liking math. I take offence to being described in those ways. I so want to be more than the robot those images conger up for me. I want to be more than just an empty faceless box that people know if they get the input correct they will come out with the correct answer. So why do I work so hard to become that? Why is that emotionless black box my goal?

Beauty is in the unexpected, in the brave, in the curves of things. That which I cannot create endlessly inspires me. Music that touches my heart moves me, I sing, I dance, I talk back, I cry. I love music because it’s a great passageway to somewhere I can’t easily get. In impromptu I was always annoyed by the people who had a formula for their speeches – going with the flow and working it out as you go was the beauty of doing impromptu. A quirk, randomness, and unexpected twists keep me involved in something. Why am I so determined to kill these things I find so wonderful in who I am as a person?