Don’t Become A Monster

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.” Friedrich Nietzsche

My lifelong habit of keeping company with at least one unlikable person is dying a slow death. I mentioned it as one of my monstrous habits in the last blog post, Where the Wild Things Are.

Even though remnants of the behavior still remain, I’ve taken steps to change it since I confronted the habit’s origin – my relationship with my mom. As much as I loved her, I seldom liked Mom because she took little responsibility for her actions, blamed others for whatever was wrong in her life, and felt sorry for herself most of the time.

The more I tried to be okay with her behavior and like her anyway, the more our relationship became anything but okay. She felt sorrier for herself and I felt more uneasy with guilt. As a result, I chose friends who were similar to her, I guess to try to fix what she and I couldn’t get right.

It’s a strange plan, I know, but I think more of us do this than not.

Marriage counselors often ask, “Who did you marry, (someone like) your mom or your dad?”

Addiction programs talk about repeating family patterns.

The Bible even tells us in Romans 7:19, “For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.”

I’ve almost always had a “mom” in my life – someone I’ve felt guilty about not liking. I’ve tried to change each one of them, even though they didn’t ask for my modifications. They did, however, take little responsibility for their actions, blamed others for whatever was wrong in their lives, and felt sorry for themselves most of the time, so I guessed they needed my guidance to break these habits.

I thought if I could help them become more likable, I’d relieve my guilt at the same time.

When neither one happened, I did what the quote warned against – I turned into a monster fighting monsters. I gave unsolicited (and unappreciated) advice. I told stories to make a point about relationships that I thought were better than ours. I made subtle comments with not so subtle intentions. Sometimes, when I felt desperate, I resorted to sarcastic comments and unkind accusations.

What I wish I’d done, and what I’m trying to do these days, is to let others own their unlikableness and for me to own mine when I’m feeling guilty for not liking them.

When you’re feeling guilty, has your behavior ever turned from mild-mannered to monstrous?

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – Dear God, as much as I hate not liking other people, I hate myself more when I join them. Help me to steer clear of my own monstrous habits and leave others’ monstrous habits for you to oversee.

Where the Wild Things Are (letting go of our monsters) (even more)

“There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have of them.” Andre Gide

Seeing Max on today’s Google screen reminded me of how I make up monsters, just like in author Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are.

And my monsters do the same sort of thing as in the book, “And the wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws.”

In fact, this morning a friend asked about one of my monstrous habits – trying to get along with people best kept at a distance.

My answer to her, “The first thing that comes to mind is I’m stirring up fear to avoid living my own life.”

Really?

Still?

Isn’t this scheme getting a little old? I could at least change it up a bit if I insist on self-destructing.

It’s almost comical to write.

What about you? Are you making up monsters to keep from living your life?

 

 

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – As much as I’m comfortable (in a not-so-healthy way) keeping company with Max and his monsters, it’s time to grow up (even more), let go of people and fear (even more), and live my life (even more).

Ship It!

“Ship it. The cost of being wrong is less than the cost of doing nothing.” Seth Godin

Seth Godin would be proud.

Me? I’m on the fence about it.

Yesterday I shipped a lengthy blog post, one with errors and sentences that made no sense, so I could honor the commitment I made to post every Monday.

I have lots of excuses for the post being a mess, like the fact that I drive two hours one way on the first Monday (yesterday) of every month to a critique group in the next state over. I know, maybe I should have taken yesterday’s article with me and had fellow writers edit it.

Nonetheless, I shipped – a phrase Seth uses often that means to take action. It was a tough decision, choosing between productivity and perfection. Not that my posts are always flawless, but I was pretty sure yesterday’s wasn’t. I sent it anyway.

It felt good to let it go until I reread it around midnight. By then, it was too late to undo. It had already been delivered to inboxes. I have since rewritten parts of it, which is why I’m posting another post so soon. To let you know, although it’s not shortened, it is fixed.

The other reason is to ask your opinion. Which is more important, shipping or shooting for perfection?

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – I couldn’t not give an explanation for yesterday’s post. That’s how I float, I mean, roll. I’m anxious to hear your priority.

“You Shouldn’t Feel That Way” (the many ways we say this and why and how to stop)

“She goes from one addiction to another. All are ways for her to not feel her feelings.”
Ellen Burstyn

Claudia Black, a leading author and theorist regarding adult children of alcoholics, has identified three dysfunctional rules of an alcoholic family.

1. Don’t talk.
2. Don’t feel.
3. Don’t trust.

I’m pretty sure these rules don’t only apply to people dealing with alcoholism. They also apply to those of us dealing with life, which means we’re probably dealing with an addiction of some sort, which I define as whatever we put in the place of God – things like eating to fill our emptiness, exercising to forget our emptiness, shopping for the perfect life, expecting our marriages to be as loving as God, or being a good person.

The latter is one I never considered addiction-like until I heard it mentioned in church yesterday. “Is being a good person where your treasure lies?”

Well, maybe. It hit home.

I’ve even seen God turned into an addiction. Oh, not him per se (he’s too big for that), but by quoting scripture and preaching at people and judging them according to our righteous ways. Sometimes we think being religious makes us better than others.

In fact, we can turn anything positive into a negative when we’re revering it and counting on it to fill the place made only for God.

One of the dangerous parts of this lifestyle is when we browbeat others or are being browbeaten with the three dysfunctional rules, which happens more often when we’re not focusing on ourselves and when we’re toying with our addictions. In other words, we can be dangerous when we’re not talking, feeling and trusting.

While meeting with a customer this week, she mentioned being unable to get along with (for the first time in her long career as a nurse) a relatively new supervisor who sounded like she bosses by the dysfunctional rules.

“It’s lethal,” said my customer.

I agree.

I believe living by the don’t talk, don’t feel, don’t trust rules is why most times people make themselves sick, why we have aches and pain, and why some go so far as to kill themselves. I’m convinced it’s why I’ve come down with fever blisters and a sore throat hundreds of times, and why I’ve wrestled with suicidal thoughts. Those of us who seek others’ approval (I think this includes most everyone in the world) usually have a low tolerance for being bullied into not talking, not feeling and  not trusting what we’re pretty sure is true, yet we turn around and sometimes do the same thing to others. Living by the dysfunctional rules lands us in a dangerous place of being out of touch with who we are.

Most times the rules come as a package deal – “Don’t trust your feelings and certainly don’t talk about your feelings. In fact, why don’t you just not feel at all?”

Why are some of us so opposed to feeling? Because emotions are messy, and who wants to deal with that? So, we try hard to avoid them. This explains at least some of why we overeat, over shop, over whatever-it-is-we-use-to-escape.

But, here’s the thing, emotions get messier when they’re ignored.

A lot messier.

A whole lot messier. 

Telltale signs that we’re living by dysfunctional rules show up in statements like …

• You’re making a big deal out of nothing.

• Do you like keeping things going?

• Are you looking for something to argue about?

• Why can’t you be satisfied?

• You’re always bringing up things that bother you. Is there anything that doesn’t bother you?

• Funny you mention ______  (whatever the behavior is), because I think you do the same thing.

• There you go again, blowing things out of proportion.

• You’re overreacting.

• Really? You’re kidding me? You really think that’s what’s happening? (in a tone of disbelief when you’ve explained a believable family problem that needs addressing)

• What did you do to antagonize him/her? (when there is an out-of-control family member, but others in the family want to ignore the problem)

• It’s your fault I act this way. If you didn’t do such and such, then I’d show respect, act differently, do my part, fill in the blank.

Oh, sure, evaluate if there’s any truth to what others are telling you. And if you’re the one making these statements, even if you’re convinced you’re right, evaluate why you’re saying them. Most likely, if you’re honest, each one is said to shut up the person and to shut down their feelings.

When we’re relationshipping with someone who’s saying “Don’t feel, don’t talk, don’t trust,” the hard-for-some-of-us-to-do solution/rule is to feel anyway and talk anyway (letting go of secrets) and trust ourselves and trustworthy others anyway, even though my typical response is to shut down, pout or rage.

On the other hand, talking, feeling and trusting work – “work” meaning I get to feel what I’m feeling and talk about what’s bothering me and honor my feelings whether anyone else does or not.

I say something like “I feel ______ (and I really think about how I’m feeling, which is usually afraid)” instead of “You did this and that.”

What rule(s) are you living by – the dysfunctional ones that keep you trapped or the one that gives permission to talk and feel and trust?

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – It’s taken 55 years, but I’m feeling my feelings and talking about my feelings and trusting my feelings. I feel better about relationships, especially the one with myself. I think there’s something to all this feeling stuff.

God Is Bigger Than the Bible

“God is bigger than people think.” Jimmy Dean

I sat waiting for friends when I couldn’t help overhearing a gentleman at a nearby table. He dominated the conversation by quoting Bible scriptures, then elaborated on their meanings. The woman and man who accompanied him tried to join in, but mostly sounded like they were trying to impress or at least keep up.

That was my take on their interaction, probably skewed by young adulthood memories around my parent’s kitchen table. Cousins excused themselves after they ate, my sister-in-law and husband found couches for a nap, but I hung in there, trying hard to impress my dad. The problem was, I couldn’t quote scripture like my brother. Still can’t.

It wasn’t until I gave up trying to hold my own in their conversations that I realized reading scripture, although important in my daily life, isn’t typically where I meet God.

Instead, I spent hours with him while listening to Rascal Flatt’s song, I’m Movin’ On. When my husband corrected me from singing “I never dreamed one would end up where I don’t belong” (I know, it makes no sense) to “I never dreamed home would end up where I don’t belong,” I was able to leave an emotionally unsafe situation.

There was also the time I walked on the beach for miles and talked with God until I got an answer about how to handle a situation with my mom. God responded out of the blue, not the black and white print.

Another time, I dreamed I walked out of a courtroom where I had explained my life for years and still didn’t feel understood. I closed the tall wooden doors behind me, then sat with my back against them, relieved I never had to go back in. When I awoke, I knew I had my answer to a longstanding prayer.

I could go on and on naming times I’ve encountered God outside the Bible, but still I’ve hesitated to believe these hold the same value as the scripture I can’t quote. That was, until God gave me another message out of the blue. This one, I could remember.

He’s bigger than the Bible.

When have you been tempted to underestimate an experience because you couldn’t explain it or back it up with facts? God inspired scripture, but he’s not limited by it.

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – Remember all the times the Pharisees accused Jesus of breaking the laws? Well, there are still Pharisees and Jesus still breaks the laws.

Called to Clean (when our calling clashes with our expectations)

“Maybe there is nothing wrong with struggling with the tension between occupation and vocation. Maybe the real tragedy is in not struggling at all — in flaking out on your responsibilities for the sake of your “calling” or compromising your dream for the sake of security.”
Jeff Goins

Cleaning and organizing didn’t fit my idea of God’s calling on my life. A book on the New York Times Best Seller list was more what I had in mind.

Scrubbing floors couldn’t possibly be a vocation, anymore than it could bring in enough money to help get on with my writing, right? Nonetheless, cleaning and organizing are turning out to be my calling during this season – the spring of 2013.

The influx of work came on the heels of much prayer and several discussions with my husband. All the while, I scrambled round and round in the vicious cycle of trying to find a way out of writing just for money, while scrambling for money so I could stop writing what I’d stopped enjoying.

“What do you really want to do?” my husband asked.

“Write posts for my own blog and work on a book,” I said.

“Then, do it.”

Easy for him to say, but by midday, every day, I felt every coherent sentence drain from my brain because of weekly deadlines. I was aware I was justifying not working on my own writing. I was also being realistic. There was little hope I’d get my personal stories on paper while having to turn in a couple of assignments a week.

I read advice about resistance, excuses, making time to write, and wasted hours, only to end up piddling on Facebook after I met others’ deadlines. I was tired by the time I got to my self-imposed ones.

Being published in magazines and newspapers and online had been exciting, fulfilling and fun, but now I was done – not with all of them, but at least the ones that were no longer any of those three things.

Around the same time, my husband and I started a nine-week class offered through Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University. Being eager to hear sound financial advice didn’t mean I was also eager to hear what I was sure Dave would say, “You’re stuck in your job until you pay off all your debt.”

That could take years, maybe even decades, as slow as I write.

Instead, Dave asked me (via video) to write down at least one contribution I could make to bring in extra money for our household budget. He mentioned moving forward with “gazelle intensity” (I clean like a fiend) to pay off debt and “live like no one else,” one of his sayings throughout the course. Since none of my friends clean houses, I figured I must be on the right track – you know, living like no one else. Dave was actually referring to living debt-free, but I got a kick out of my housecleaning joke.

The weekend before I made the announcement at my networking group that I’d be freelance writing and cleaning their homes, our son said, “We weren’t created to sit in an office all day long.” Well, maybe some people are, but he and I are not. Our daughter said, “Weird as it sounds, I think cleaning is what you’re supposed to be doing. You’re so good at it, and you’re busy.”

Without knowing it, their statements made it apparent I was right where I was supposed to be.

The phone calls and messages to clean and organize came in daily, also making it apparent I was right where I was supposed to be.

And when customers said after their houses were clean, “I can feel my stress level lessening,” it was apparent I was right where I was supposed to be.

Wendy Pope wrote “Reshaping Me”, the May 7^th Proverbs 31 post about being reshaped by cleaning a beauty salon’s bathroom.

To top off her post, “On Becoming a Janitor“ by Beth Pensinger showed up in my inbox two days later, letting me know, you got it, I am right where I’m supposed to be, even though Beth’s decided janitoring isn’t for her. Not now, anyways.

How well do you accept that you’re right where you’re supposed to be, even when where you are isn’t what you had in mind?

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – As this plan unfolds, it’s feeling ministerial, it’s making money enough to supplement my writing, and it’s paying off debt. I’m staying tuned. Hope you’ll join me.

I Wish I Were Dead

“Do you feel like you’re dying? You’re really being born.” Jackie Doubles (Artwork by Kelly Rae Roberts)

After reading Dave Hamlin’s blog post Wanted: Dead and Alive, I think I got it.

Dave describes better than I ever could what God’s been up to for the last, oh, I don’t know, 55 or so years of my life. The last eight have been especially significant, as well as especially painful. I felt abandoned by him, but knew better. Still, I couldn’t pinpoint the lesson while battling self-doubt and depression.

There was my broken knee that kept me stuck for months in a leg cast, a broken nose that gave way to recognizing how much self-hatred I still harbored, my broken spirit that suffered through dark periods I hope are gone forever, and broken relationships that I thought would mend with time, but didn’t.

God’s been using all this brokenness to make me more whole than ever, but not until he killed me dead, like Dave says in his post (you have to read it).

Here it is in his words:

“After this event (Dave receiving a message from God through an inscription by writer Elisabeth Elliot), Jesus gave me about three decades to embrace His message, but I never really got around to dying. So Jesus began killing me.”

That’s it. Jesus wanted me dead to what others think and how much stuff I have and how many Facebook friends like me and how many publications print my writing, all so I can live his way.

The better way.

The freer way.

Since I don’t relinquish control easily, mine’s been a slow death.

I have, however, felt more alive this past month than in a decade. Apparently, nothing does as much for the body and soul as a good killing.

What in your life needs to be killed off so you can live the life God has planned for you?

“I’ve broken open many times. But I am not broken. I’m just alive.” quote and artwork by Kelly Rae Roberts

WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – I’m willing to keep being broken open, to keep dying until I’m fully alive. Are you with me?

On the side: Thanks to Beth Vogt and her daughter, Katie Beth, for introducing me to Dave’s blog. Thanks to Dave for time and again writing relatable posts full of truth and light.

Visit Dave’s blog @ http://drawingfromexperienceblog.wordpress.com and artist Kelly Rae Roberts’ website @ http://kellyraeroberts.com.