Let's Get Honest with Ourselves....

We’ve all been there:  The day started like a cannon shot, and you spend the rest of the day running in circles, trying to stay afloat.  Every effort to tackle the 3 foot list of to-do’s is thwarted by unforeseen obstacles and barriers.  Yesterday’s to-do list is now today’s to-do list, and more items are scribbled beneath.  The boss ignores your successes and points out the one mistake you made, and you go home with a 100 pound satchel filled with work and a 1,000 pound weight on your shoulders.  You stop at the grocery store for milk, and bump into a friend.  “How are you?” your smiling friend asks. 

“Doing good,” you say….

Wait.  What?  No you’re not.  You’re not fine; you’re frazzled!  Despite the friendly chit-chat and catching up, you never admit that you’re worn out and worn away. 

Why not tell the truth?  Why not answer with the cold, hard facts?

I do this all of the time.  And I think it’s time to stop.  I have lots of “good” reasons for stuffing my bad feelings or bad days down deep.  I don’t want to burden someone else with my problems.  I want to forget the bad day and move on to something else.  I’m embarrassed that my careful plans didn’t play out the way I expected.  I feel like a failure, a loser with a capital “L.”  I don’t want to cry in the bread aisle. 

Mostly, I think I hide the ugly truth because I believe that pretending it’s not there will make it not exist.  I’ve always been a stubborn girl.  Even as a little kid I believed I could do things without other people’s help.  When I was 6 or 7 at my grandparents’ house at Fletcher’s Bay on Bainbridge Island, I tried to carry a full-sized rowboat all by myself down to the water.  I remember that moment sharply because I wanted to prove that I was a tough girl and could handle it.  As I am getting older I realize that being tough is good, but being honest is even better. 

This practice of burying the truth like a gnarly bone has actually leaked over into my spiritual life.  I’ve caught myself not being honest with God In this same way.  I’ve tried to carry my own burdens with Herculean stubbornness just to prove that I can handle it, only to be squished under the weight.  In my prayer life I sometimes leave out the unpleasant details of my failures because I am ashamed of them, as if not speaking of them will make them cease to exist.  And one day, right in the middle of a prayer, I was struck with the naiveté of my schemes.  Oh yeah.  God created me…He already knows my weaknesses and failures.  Duh…

Here’s one of many passages in the Bible that illustrates how well God knows each of us (from Psalm 139):

“Lord, you have examined me and know all about me.  You know when I sit down and when I get up.  You know my thoughts before I think them.  You know where I go and where I lie down.  You know everything I do.  Lord, even before I say a word, you already know it.  You are all around me—in front and in back—and have put your hand on me.  Your knowledge is amazing to me; it is more than I can understand.  Where can I go to get away from your Spirit?  Where can I run from you?  If I go up to the heavens, you are there.  If I lie down in the grave, you are there.”

God knows each of us inside and out.  He knows what we do, what we think, what we say.  God knows everything.  Upon first glance this might be a bit unnerving.  I mean, I certainly would prefer if I could hide some actions, thoughts, or words from God.  But here’s the best part of the Psalm, picking up from where I left of:

“If I rise with the sun in the east and settle in the west beyond the sea, even there you would guide me.  With your right hand you would hold me….God, examine me and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any bad thing in me.  Lead me on the road to everlasting life.”

Notice that despite the fact that God knows each of us to our very fibers, He still guides us, holds us, examines us, knows us, tests us, sees us, and leads us.  In a world where whether or not we are liked or loved sometimes depends on how we look or act or conduct ourselves – very conditional things that determine our status – it’s easy to think that even God looks at us this way.  But I think the key here is that despite knowing us even better than we know ourselves, God takes us by the hand, guides our lives and leads us “on the road to everlasting life.”  He doesn’t give up on us like perhaps others might.  He doesn’t write us off as broken or weak or failed.  He takes us by the hand and walks with us.  (How cool is that?).

As David ponders this unbelievable, unfathomable quality of God, he says to God, “When I wake up, I am still with you.”  The converse is also true…When we wake up, God is still with us.  After our terrible day, God is still with us.  After we make the same mistake countless times, God is still with us.  After we fail to do what is right, God is still with us…

And He is guiding, holding, examining, testing, and leading us.  So have no fears:  Tell God everything.  He’s not going anywhere without us.

Word of the Week: Mudita

I love learning new things.  This makes my job as a teacher especially fun, because I am learning new things all of the time.  This week I had a late night for the Back to School Night event, so I went to a local restaurant for a little quiet moment and some delicious Chinese food.  When I eat alone, I like to bring a magazine along, and it was thanks to this little moment of solitude that I learned a new word:  Mudita.

Mudita, a Buddhist concept, can be defined as joy for someone else’s success.  Here’s how Buddha defined it:  Here, O, Monks, a disciple lets his mind pervade one quarter of the world with thoughts of unselfish joy, and so the second, and so the third, and so the fourth. And thus the whole wide world, above, below, around, everywhere and equally, he continues to pervade with a heart of unselfish joy, abundant, grown great, measureless, without hostility or ill-will. I don’t think you need to be Buddhist to see the value in this concept.

I confess that sometimes I am not terribly gracious.  It is easy for me to feel envy when someone I know (or even someone I don’t know) finds success that I wish I could find.  I felt more than a little burn of envy when a group of people won a lottery worth millions…a lottery for which my husband and I bought 2 tickets.  Oh man…what I could have done with those millions!  Woe is me.  My mom just retired.  She completely deserves this time of rest and renewal.  I felt a pang of jealousy when I left for my first day of school this August.  And then I loathed myself for it.  And then I got over it. 

These moments of jealousy are the opposite of Mudita.  Feeling sincere joy for someone else’s success is something I am practicing.  I have a terrible tendency to compare myself against others, especially at work.  Setting aside my personal insecurities to celebrate (and dare I say brag about) my friends’ or coworkers’ successes is absolutely worth kicking my own insecurities to the curb.  But boy is it difficult. 

We have a friend who taught me about Mudita many years ago…and he probably didn’t even know it.  His name is Todd.  Ages ago, dare I say ten years ago, we were all hanging out in our boat, enjoying some fried chicken, shade in “Duck Cove,” and conversations about everything under the sun.  In fact, I don’t recall the precise subject, but I was talking about somebody who had just won something or had just spent an exorbitant amount of money on something…I don’t know….maybe we were talking about a celebrity or something.  So I enter this conversation with a voice dripping with envy that is conveniently masked as financial conservatism (i.e. “Can you believe what a waste of money that 25,000 square foot mansion is?), and Todd replies, “Isn’t that wonderful?  What a cool thing that [enter name of celebrity] is so good at his job that he can afford that mansion!”

I confess that I was quite taken aback…but silently and in my mind.  Why couldn’t I (wouldn’t I?) feel that kind of unfettered joy for someone’s success?  (Answer:  Because I was jealous and insecure.  Duh).  I didn’t like that feeling very much, largely because I was ashamed of myself.

I don’t want to be the kind of person who feels sour and bitter over the accomplishments of others, even if I try to cloak it in some other palatable emotion or context.  I want to feel deep MUDITA for others.  Deep, unselfish happiness…what can be better than a pure emotion such as this?

Today I practiced this in a small way.  I wore a cute pink and black striped dress to school today.  I’ll admit that it was quite stylish for a person such as myself (who finds jeans and a hoodie to be sufficient for everyday activities).  As I was leaving the building, some of my lovely students complimented me on my fashion sense.  I thanked them, then added, “I’m taking a cue from Dr. LeBlanc,” I said.  “Now she is one stylish lady!”  And you know what?  It’s true.  Dr. LeBlanc is the funniest, spunkiest, most stylish teacher I know.  She would be easy to envy.  She has wild, red curly hair, she is probably the most un-self-conscious person I know.  She is full of joy and laughter.  And she always thinks of others when I am too busy to look up from my computer screen.  But instead of being mopey or jealous or insecure, I would rather celebrate what a wonderful teacher and human being she really is. 

Want another confession?  It felt really good to send my insecurities packing and celebrate someone else’s fabulousity, even in such a small way.

Of Flailing and Sea Turtles....

I came across a video on Facebook the other day.  It depicts the hatching and mega-sand trek of baby Leatherback sea turtles.  They boil up out of the sand, struggle to the surface, and then have to make the long journey to the ocean, which is fraught with dips, divots, and other obstructions.  If you’d like to see this video, click the following link.  It really is six minutes of your time that will not be wasted.   (Enlarge the screen to full size if you don’t see the video right away):  http://www.grindtv.com/outdoor/nature/post/hatching-of-endangered-leatherback-sea-turtles-captured-on-video-by-beachgoer/

First of all, it is a wonder to me that they even make it out of their sandy nests.  After cracking their egg shells with a “caruncle,” a tooth that they shed shortly after hatching, they must dig their way to the surface.  (Quick question:  How do they know which way is up?)  Well, once they get oriented, they must plow their way to the surface, following a grand exodus of their turtle siblings.  They probably get some sand in their eyes and maybe a flipper or two to the face.  Regardless of this elbow-to-elbow struggle to the surface (if sea turtles actually have elbows), once they emerge into the cool night air they must then make their way to the ocean.  It’s amazing that they can rely on natural cues and God-given instinct to take off in the right direction!  But even once they get oriented, they must travel quite a distance (especially for a tiny, silver-dollar sized turtle) to take their proverbial plunge into life.  They have sand divots, beach debris, and predators to avoid, and all of this could potentially drive them off-course.  Oh yeah, they also have to contend with the ocean waves, and then all the predators that await in the sea.

Our little band of turtles on the video have quite an introduction to the world.  (Fun fact:  A group of turtles is called a bale, a nest, a turn, or a dole).  What struck me most while watching the video was just how hard the little guys have to work just to dive into the ocean.  They’ve only just begun, and already they must be exhausted!  Part of me (okay, a large part of me) wanted to just step into the scene, scoop them up, and gently deposit them into the rest of their lives.  Then I remembered something.  Now, admittedly, I don’t know if this is scientifically sound information I am about to share, but I have read this before and have heard other people mention that picking up and transporting a baby turtle into the ocean is actually detrimental to their survival.  The reason this is (or so I have heard) is that the struggle is essential to their survival.  This toil actually helps to strengthen the turtle.   I have heard this is also true for moths and butterflies as they emerge from their cocoons.  If the creature doesn’t endure the struggle, its chance of survival greatly diminishes.

Being a complete sucker for symbolism, metaphor, and analogy, I was compelled to take the tale of the turtles farther -- into my own life.  I don’t like struggle.  Who does?  I actually have become quite adept at avoiding conflict.  I can see it coming, and my mind races with a plan to evade or circumnavigate the trial.  I sometimes exude ninja-like deftness at dodging strife.  (It’s pretty impressive, if I do say so myself).

But here’s what I realized as I watched the march of the turtles:  What is true for the turtles is true for us humans.  Struggle is strengthening.  When we struggle, we get stronger:  physically, emotionally, spiritually, and intellectually.  This doesn’t mean that we are always victorious in our hardships, but, triumphant or not, we gain something when we wrestle.  Maybe we gain a new perspective.  Or a new piece of wisdom.  Or a new understanding of ourselves.  But just like I watched the turtles work so hard to arrive at their destination, I suspect that God also watches our exertions carefully and with great care.  And while sometimes He might deem it right to simply pluck us out of the situation (and believe me, God has certainly plucked me out of a few fires in my day), more often than not it is perhaps God’s incomprehensible grace that allows us to flail, squirm, and duke it out, because He has something He wants us to learn from it all.  And I’ll bet He is cheering for us every step of the way.