I can barely live in my own skin
My muscles underneath quiver with fear
Potential pending doom grows without restraint in my head
But I cannot find the dangers
They are myths I believe
They are myths I created
But I feel that they are true
Consequences to things yet unoccurred
A tragic story of life events yet unlived
Tense thoughts lock my back and shoulders in a prison of panic
My hands tremble with fear
My breathing quickens, and I feel like I'm going crazy
My body is prepared for a war with my mind
I debate myself over self-worth, value, and lovability
They say I'm too hard on myself
That I'm good for people, funny, and lovable
But what if they knew me better?
If they saw me now, shaking in the fear of nothing?
I talk to them and they ask me what happened,
What happened? They say,
And I just want to cry, I don't know
Nothing, everything, just happened.
I feel stuck under a black umbrella of my own thoughts
With sunglasses so dark they can block out the sun
I cry out of sadness, a deep grief for my life
I'm sorry I have hurt, been immature, and used you all
Be merciful and lock me up so I cannot hurt another
And so I do not hurt myself
I need deep truths
God, give me something I can grip firmly
Hold on to for dear life, dear trust, dear intimacy, love
Would you like my vocal chords so I can actually hear you?
I can give you my anxious skin so you can touch me, give me a hug perhaps?
A set of clothes that I can touch?
I feel ill, sick with sticky worries
And I am tired, giving too much credence to my mistakes
I have invited fear and hurt into my home
And it has stayed, now unwelcomed, but burrowed into me
I have tried to smoke it out with cigarettes
Drown it in alcohol
Loosen its grip with sex, careless decisions, and positive self-help books
I feel too much
I need deep truths, deep magical thoughts
Grounded in a constant source of comfort
But I feel so much
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
Loving Another
"Love ceases to be a demon only when it ceases to be a god." - M. Denis de Rougemont
I wholeheartedly agree with the maxim that "it is not good for a man to be alone." We are, as people, meant to fulfill each other's inherent needs for companionship. The denial of this fact, like the manufacturing of illusionary feelings that we are "blessed" or "gifted" with being single or celibate, also denies the need we have to find someone to love. Frankly, the denial of this need makes us unstable and insecure. As Carl Jung said, "what you resist persists." As such, we should first simply acknowledge our need of this love in our lives.
No doubt most people believe truly corrupted love is sex without love or commitment. This makes perfect sense, but it must also be said that truly romantic love is not present in such activity. True love dominates sexual desire, refining and reorganizing our thoughts and behavior. By itself, sex desires something. If sex persists without love, then we tend to fall in love with the "loving", not the person herself, based on what we get out of it. Love, on the other hand, desires the object of love, the beloved herself, someone in particular.
Love makes a man not just want any woman, but one particular woman. Furthermore, he does not want the pleasure he gets from her, but her in authentic form. This is not a calculated decision, or a product of will power, it is a simple pre-occupation with her that develops. He did not choose her, nor did she him, based on comparing other women to her. In fact, his needs here are entirely a distraction from appreciating her as admirable in herself. Very simply, he is quite intoxicated by her, without giving any regard to his pain or pleasure. She is undeniably separate from him, like the beauty present in a colorful sunset, but he cannot (and would not dare) take it with him.
It is so important to keep the separateness or otherness of those loving relationships at the forefront of our minds. Because if we were to allow our pre-occupation with the beloved to take control, it would soon become an obsession, and then a burden for the lover and the beloved. In fact, I have found that such a process ends up with the worst sort of selfish behavior, where I would not care about the beloved at all, except that she were to make me feel complete and met my needs for intimacy. Such a thought turns her from what was once specifically beautiful and valuable into even less than a woman. She would become any woman, nothing special, and there to make me feel better. Granted, it is wonderful that she can do things that mean much to me, but we must resist loving those things more than her herself. We must maintain gratefulness rather than expectations.
That, in fact, is how I want to be loved and not loved as well. I want to be loved as a special, unique, and independently wealthy poor man who is, in and of himself, full of worth and potential. I want to be loved truly, as I myself am, with appreciation for what I do and freedom to grow up from my mistakes. But specifically, I want to be loved as another, from only one other, who is incredibly grateful for me.
I wholeheartedly agree with the maxim that "it is not good for a man to be alone." We are, as people, meant to fulfill each other's inherent needs for companionship. The denial of this fact, like the manufacturing of illusionary feelings that we are "blessed" or "gifted" with being single or celibate, also denies the need we have to find someone to love. Frankly, the denial of this need makes us unstable and insecure. As Carl Jung said, "what you resist persists." As such, we should first simply acknowledge our need of this love in our lives.
No doubt most people believe truly corrupted love is sex without love or commitment. This makes perfect sense, but it must also be said that truly romantic love is not present in such activity. True love dominates sexual desire, refining and reorganizing our thoughts and behavior. By itself, sex desires something. If sex persists without love, then we tend to fall in love with the "loving", not the person herself, based on what we get out of it. Love, on the other hand, desires the object of love, the beloved herself, someone in particular.
Love makes a man not just want any woman, but one particular woman. Furthermore, he does not want the pleasure he gets from her, but her in authentic form. This is not a calculated decision, or a product of will power, it is a simple pre-occupation with her that develops. He did not choose her, nor did she him, based on comparing other women to her. In fact, his needs here are entirely a distraction from appreciating her as admirable in herself. Very simply, he is quite intoxicated by her, without giving any regard to his pain or pleasure. She is undeniably separate from him, like the beauty present in a colorful sunset, but he cannot (and would not dare) take it with him.
It is so important to keep the separateness or otherness of those loving relationships at the forefront of our minds. Because if we were to allow our pre-occupation with the beloved to take control, it would soon become an obsession, and then a burden for the lover and the beloved. In fact, I have found that such a process ends up with the worst sort of selfish behavior, where I would not care about the beloved at all, except that she were to make me feel complete and met my needs for intimacy. Such a thought turns her from what was once specifically beautiful and valuable into even less than a woman. She would become any woman, nothing special, and there to make me feel better. Granted, it is wonderful that she can do things that mean much to me, but we must resist loving those things more than her herself. We must maintain gratefulness rather than expectations.
That, in fact, is how I want to be loved and not loved as well. I want to be loved as a special, unique, and independently wealthy poor man who is, in and of himself, full of worth and potential. I want to be loved truly, as I myself am, with appreciation for what I do and freedom to grow up from my mistakes. But specifically, I want to be loved as another, from only one other, who is incredibly grateful for me.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Seriously Silly Daydreams
It seems to me that history's most ruthless tyrants were those individuals whose professional egoism did not allow themselves to be laughed at. One cannot laugh about all of the circumstances in life or characteristics of self, but certainly there are a few that are quite entertaining. In fact, my most humorous characteristics are those that would otherwise appear as the most serious flaws.
For example, I have developed the habit of associating a self-centered daydream with ever song I listen to. The daydreams typically involve myself as the center of attention and a selected audience. For John Mayer's “Your Body is a Wonderland,” I am singing said song in a small club to an audience of fond friends and one particularly impressed, attractive woman. For ACDC's “You shook me all night long,” I am singing said song at a karaoke night at the local bar. Of course, David Crowder's “Obsession” I sing in front of church at a special worship night. For the Last of the Mohican's Soundtrack (track two in particular) I am part of a special operations unit in the Army defending the homes of some friends from brutal ninja-like terrorists.
Through these and other childish imaginations I have fought a starship in an X-wing, beat an Ethiopian in a cross-country race, outdanced the best breaker on “So You Think You Can Dance,” tackled LaDamian Tomlinson for a prize-winning rookie opportunity, used The Force to make my friends fly, shot a bee off a deer's butt at 1,000 yards with my own rifle, kicked the crap out of some high school bullies as Raiden from Mortal Kombat, took friends on a joy ride in an F-22 Raptor, etc. This list truly never ends because it is always being created. I can be a hero, a saint, a lover, a wise man, a legend, or even a superhero. Truly, if I were to take this too seriously, my egoism could make even Hitler blush. There is only a slight seriousness in that I am able to see the weaknesses in my own self-worth through my dreams. I can look at these dreams and know my insecurities without even thinking hard. But even these cannot be taken too seriously. One does not see a child being condemned by their parents for a having dreams of what they will be when they grow up. And, in fact, I am still growing up.
My most frequent dreams are those involving the women I have loved, or perhaps, wanted love from. Again, a serious flaw if one were to pay too much attention to the negative effects. But the innocence in which I dream about them must be understood in no more serious terms than that of a romantic and oversensitive language of thought. To those romantic interests, at the extreme, I have been a provider, protector, and cherisher of them. I have flown across the world to wish them a happy birthday, given them expensive gifts grown from the intimacy of inside jokes, sang them songs I have written about them while kissing them, worked 60 hours a week in a cubicle just so they could have the car they wanted, been a good father, made them laugh harder than they did while being tickled as a child, played and prayed with them, etc. These are my fondest dreams because they create in me such a blissful feeling of relief.
However, a serious character flaw is represented by these daydreams such that it indicates a desire for a woman, any woman, to make me feel complete. Such is not a desirable quality for any man in a relationship, because the woman would know that she was completely unnecessary, and that any woman would do for him. How would you feel if your partner wanted someone to love and be loved by, but not you specifically? In contrast, how would you feel if they wanted you specifically, with all of themselves, and without any regard to another? To sum up, at the worst, my daydreams are indicative of my desire to simply be accepted and loved for who I am. Surely, this cannot be all that wrong; perhaps foolish, but not evil. It is a delicate balance of egoism and silly daydreams growing up into self-controlled passion. I must not give it its head, but I must also maintain its innocence with a sense of humor. Anyway, I'm working on it.
For example, I have developed the habit of associating a self-centered daydream with ever song I listen to. The daydreams typically involve myself as the center of attention and a selected audience. For John Mayer's “Your Body is a Wonderland,” I am singing said song in a small club to an audience of fond friends and one particularly impressed, attractive woman. For ACDC's “You shook me all night long,” I am singing said song at a karaoke night at the local bar. Of course, David Crowder's “Obsession” I sing in front of church at a special worship night. For the Last of the Mohican's Soundtrack (track two in particular) I am part of a special operations unit in the Army defending the homes of some friends from brutal ninja-like terrorists.
Through these and other childish imaginations I have fought a starship in an X-wing, beat an Ethiopian in a cross-country race, outdanced the best breaker on “So You Think You Can Dance,” tackled LaDamian Tomlinson for a prize-winning rookie opportunity, used The Force to make my friends fly, shot a bee off a deer's butt at 1,000 yards with my own rifle, kicked the crap out of some high school bullies as Raiden from Mortal Kombat, took friends on a joy ride in an F-22 Raptor, etc. This list truly never ends because it is always being created. I can be a hero, a saint, a lover, a wise man, a legend, or even a superhero. Truly, if I were to take this too seriously, my egoism could make even Hitler blush. There is only a slight seriousness in that I am able to see the weaknesses in my own self-worth through my dreams. I can look at these dreams and know my insecurities without even thinking hard. But even these cannot be taken too seriously. One does not see a child being condemned by their parents for a having dreams of what they will be when they grow up. And, in fact, I am still growing up.
My most frequent dreams are those involving the women I have loved, or perhaps, wanted love from. Again, a serious flaw if one were to pay too much attention to the negative effects. But the innocence in which I dream about them must be understood in no more serious terms than that of a romantic and oversensitive language of thought. To those romantic interests, at the extreme, I have been a provider, protector, and cherisher of them. I have flown across the world to wish them a happy birthday, given them expensive gifts grown from the intimacy of inside jokes, sang them songs I have written about them while kissing them, worked 60 hours a week in a cubicle just so they could have the car they wanted, been a good father, made them laugh harder than they did while being tickled as a child, played and prayed with them, etc. These are my fondest dreams because they create in me such a blissful feeling of relief.
However, a serious character flaw is represented by these daydreams such that it indicates a desire for a woman, any woman, to make me feel complete. Such is not a desirable quality for any man in a relationship, because the woman would know that she was completely unnecessary, and that any woman would do for him. How would you feel if your partner wanted someone to love and be loved by, but not you specifically? In contrast, how would you feel if they wanted you specifically, with all of themselves, and without any regard to another? To sum up, at the worst, my daydreams are indicative of my desire to simply be accepted and loved for who I am. Surely, this cannot be all that wrong; perhaps foolish, but not evil. It is a delicate balance of egoism and silly daydreams growing up into self-controlled passion. I must not give it its head, but I must also maintain its innocence with a sense of humor. Anyway, I'm working on it.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Performance and Opinion
There are two things I have been caring about far too much in life: my performance and others' opinions of me. The latter only really comes along during relationships, but the former is almost always present.
I am slowly discovering that life really is like Calvinball. It is a game, our game, where we make up the rules and the only goal is a relationship with God. The standards by which we live can first be established by our parents, teachers, pastors, etc. But, as adults, we must form our own standards by which to live up to. We establish the par, the grading system, the GPA. It is our decision, our responsibility, and our freedom. This is my life, so I make the rules.
But first we must realize that the standards by which we were taught to live up to are not exactly in our best interest. My skills and talents, as well as my weaknesses and character flaws, are uniquely my own and cannot perfectly conform to any moral system in existence. Because my relationship with God is unique, and my purpose for living is only my own, I must establish my standards and expectations of myself based on this relationship and purpose.
For example, Christianity has taught me that, in order to have a good relationship with God, one must always believe in Him and never sin. Sure, we all know that we doubt and are sinful, but it is still wrong to be that way. Well, that's bullshit. When will we begin to believe that "all things work together for the good of those who love God"? All, fucking, ALL things. That includes sin, no? C.S. Lewis said that "the good man is sorry for the sins which have increased his need. He is not entirely sorry for the fresh need they have produced." I am not redefining sin as not really sin, I am simply putting it in the context of a relationship with God. To trust that God grace is sufficient for me is to tell me that I can do no wrong in His sight. I'm quite sure this will upset the moral elite, the high tower church attenders, but what good would I be if I could not live my own life as I see fit?
Here is my purpose in life, a simple explanation of why I choose to live: I live to enjoy a relationship with God and be happy. I am not here to be a good person. I am not here to make everyone feel safe and secure. I am not here to conform to others' opinions of me, even those opinions formed in my most intimate relationships. Knowing the purpose for which you live allows you firmly develop the rules by which you live. Once these rules, your rules, are in place you can begin to let go of those standards by which others have held you to for so long. You are free to discover your own weakness, the definition of which changes according to the purpose of the life you are pursuing.
If my purpose in getting something to eat is to merely satisfy hunger, I should expect to eat anything that would fill my stomach. But if my purpose in getting something to eat is to be filled with something delicious and somewhat healthy, I should not eat just anything. Neither of these purposes in getting something to eat is objectively wrong or immoral, but they both result is very different standards and rules by which one allows themselves to eat. In both cases, one must decide their purpose before attempting to fulfill that purpose by creating their own standards.
Likewise, one must be realistic about their own abilities in order to create personal morals for themselves. We must be aware of our weaknesses and strengths, and learn to emphasize our strengths to succeed in meeting the standards we set for ourselves. We cannot always be working on our weaknesses and attempting to improve on ourselves without using our strengths to get us through.
I am slowly discovering that life really is like Calvinball. It is a game, our game, where we make up the rules and the only goal is a relationship with God. The standards by which we live can first be established by our parents, teachers, pastors, etc. But, as adults, we must form our own standards by which to live up to. We establish the par, the grading system, the GPA. It is our decision, our responsibility, and our freedom. This is my life, so I make the rules.
But first we must realize that the standards by which we were taught to live up to are not exactly in our best interest. My skills and talents, as well as my weaknesses and character flaws, are uniquely my own and cannot perfectly conform to any moral system in existence. Because my relationship with God is unique, and my purpose for living is only my own, I must establish my standards and expectations of myself based on this relationship and purpose.
For example, Christianity has taught me that, in order to have a good relationship with God, one must always believe in Him and never sin. Sure, we all know that we doubt and are sinful, but it is still wrong to be that way. Well, that's bullshit. When will we begin to believe that "all things work together for the good of those who love God"? All, fucking, ALL things. That includes sin, no? C.S. Lewis said that "the good man is sorry for the sins which have increased his need. He is not entirely sorry for the fresh need they have produced." I am not redefining sin as not really sin, I am simply putting it in the context of a relationship with God. To trust that God grace is sufficient for me is to tell me that I can do no wrong in His sight. I'm quite sure this will upset the moral elite, the high tower church attenders, but what good would I be if I could not live my own life as I see fit?
Here is my purpose in life, a simple explanation of why I choose to live: I live to enjoy a relationship with God and be happy. I am not here to be a good person. I am not here to make everyone feel safe and secure. I am not here to conform to others' opinions of me, even those opinions formed in my most intimate relationships. Knowing the purpose for which you live allows you firmly develop the rules by which you live. Once these rules, your rules, are in place you can begin to let go of those standards by which others have held you to for so long. You are free to discover your own weakness, the definition of which changes according to the purpose of the life you are pursuing.
If my purpose in getting something to eat is to merely satisfy hunger, I should expect to eat anything that would fill my stomach. But if my purpose in getting something to eat is to be filled with something delicious and somewhat healthy, I should not eat just anything. Neither of these purposes in getting something to eat is objectively wrong or immoral, but they both result is very different standards and rules by which one allows themselves to eat. In both cases, one must decide their purpose before attempting to fulfill that purpose by creating their own standards.
Likewise, one must be realistic about their own abilities in order to create personal morals for themselves. We must be aware of our weaknesses and strengths, and learn to emphasize our strengths to succeed in meeting the standards we set for ourselves. We cannot always be working on our weaknesses and attempting to improve on ourselves without using our strengths to get us through.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
A Few Verses By Which I Cling
Romans 8:31-39
31What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised— who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?
37No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:28
28And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
Psalm 139:1-18
1O LORD, you have searched me and known me!
2You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
3You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.
5You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
6Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
7Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
8If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
9If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
11If I say, "Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,"
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
13For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
14I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
15My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16Your eyes saw my unformed substance;in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
17How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
I awake, and I am still with you.
Isaiah 54:10
"For the mountains may depart
and the hills be removed,
but my steadfast love shall not depart from you,
and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,"
says the LORD, who has compassion on you.
Psalm 32:10
Many are the sorrows of the wicked,
but steadfast love surrounds the one who trusts in the LORD.
Exodus 15:26
...for I, the LORD, am your healer.
31What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised— who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?
37No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:28
28And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
Psalm 139:1-18
1O LORD, you have searched me and known me!
2You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
3You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.
5You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
6Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
7Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
8If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
9If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
11If I say, "Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,"
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
13For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
14I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
15My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16Your eyes saw my unformed substance;in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
17How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
I awake, and I am still with you.
Isaiah 54:10
"For the mountains may depart
and the hills be removed,
but my steadfast love shall not depart from you,
and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,"
says the LORD, who has compassion on you.
Psalm 32:10
Many are the sorrows of the wicked,
but steadfast love surrounds the one who trusts in the LORD.
Exodus 15:26
...for I, the LORD, am your healer.
Fear and Self-Loathing in San Diego
While fighting for the Army, I have been trained to face almost any type of enemy. For the most part, I have learned how to adapt and overcome their defenses. I have also learned how to defend myself from their attacks. Thanks to this training, I really have very few fears about going to war soon. I have little fear of any enemy, except one.
In the Lord of the Rings video game there is a dark magic spell you can use called "Whip of the Master." The effect of the spell is that your own character speeds up and strengthens their attacks. I cannot think of a better description of how I have been living recently. I have pushed myself far too hard and I have become overwhelmed with insecurity. I am more afraid of my own insecurities and character faults than any external enemy. I am more afraid of going to war than I am of being in a relationship that exposes me for who I am. At times, I would rather face a man who has full intention of killing me in hatred rather than dealing with my own criticism of myself. How do you fight such an enemy? What do you do with your own cruel criticism? You can't kill or stop self.
Thanks either to my parents, prior bad relationships, or other hurtful experiences, I do not know how to simply "be okay" with my own insecurities and flaws. Despite the fact that I know there is no such thing as a perfect person, I hold those expectations of myself naturally. I am constantly breaking my own rules and reacting to that with extreme criticism. I am my own worst enemy.
I know that everyone feels this way at times. But I am more the sort of person who becomes overwhelmed by it all. My standards for myself are far too high. The difference between who I am and who I expect myself to be has grown to an unacceptable distance. Hence, I have become overwhelmed with anxiety. Even now, as I write this, I am kicking myself for being this way. It is extremely difficult for me right now to just cut myself some slack, take a break and still be acceptable.
This question was posed to me today: If your son had no confidence in himself, or was feeling very insecure and unlovable, what would you tell him? I think I have my answer: I would tell him I loved him. I would tell him that he was loved, and that it would always be so, because he is my son. He has intrinsic value. He is accomplished, not because of his accomplishments, but because he lives and breathes and eats and sleeps as himself. I am proud when he does well, because I know he is not hurting himself, but I am just as proud when he is simply himself. He is uniquely him. I would tell him he does not need another, any other, to make him feel like a desirable and successful person, not even me. He would have my confidence and my trust, even if he doesn't have his own. I would use all of the faculties of my mind, I would shamelessly try to convince him and persuade him that he is "the beloved." I would want to fight his shame in full force. I would reason with him about his confidence and help him understand that, without comparison to anyone else, he is incredibly important on his own power. I would tell him to openly accept his faults as uniquely his with an attitude of full, unconditional compassion. I would warn him not to expect something from someone else that he cannot do for himself, because I know he can. In short, I would want to break through his doubt and skepticism about himself with my love and respect for him.
See, I could tell him all this, but I can barely imagine someone saying that to me. My parents never told me that, no one has. It is something others have learned in childhood that I must learn as an adult. I must learn how to accept love, accept myself, and have it be just that simple. I am the one whose standards I must live up to. I intend on lowering those immensely so I can lower my anxiety and raise my confidence. I guess I just want to balance my expectations to the point where I can say, "what I did was what I could do," and have that be okay.
The journey of self-discovery is laced with danger. At every new discovery, every new tendency, every simple mistake in behavior or fault of character, there is the temptation to take such knowledge and condemn ourselves with it. I was never taught how to fight that because my parents were ill-equipped to do so themselves. I know because I spoke with them about it. They passed it on to me and I have continued with it. I am now trying to end it. It is a slow, painful, anxiety-laced journey to accept and love myself.
It is funny how everything I do in life becomes a step to a closer relationship to God. Right now, I want to know God's thoughts about me. He is the source of confidence in myself. He is the source of my acceptance, of grace, of healing, of identity. He is my source of peace while I live. I need to know Him, trust Him, believe Him, and experience His love not just for me, but of me. He is my only confidant, my only consistent lover, because He sees my true value. I believe it is the highest of virtues to trust that God loves us, because frankly, it is our most fundamental need.
In the Lord of the Rings video game there is a dark magic spell you can use called "Whip of the Master." The effect of the spell is that your own character speeds up and strengthens their attacks. I cannot think of a better description of how I have been living recently. I have pushed myself far too hard and I have become overwhelmed with insecurity. I am more afraid of my own insecurities and character faults than any external enemy. I am more afraid of going to war than I am of being in a relationship that exposes me for who I am. At times, I would rather face a man who has full intention of killing me in hatred rather than dealing with my own criticism of myself. How do you fight such an enemy? What do you do with your own cruel criticism? You can't kill or stop self.
Thanks either to my parents, prior bad relationships, or other hurtful experiences, I do not know how to simply "be okay" with my own insecurities and flaws. Despite the fact that I know there is no such thing as a perfect person, I hold those expectations of myself naturally. I am constantly breaking my own rules and reacting to that with extreme criticism. I am my own worst enemy.
I know that everyone feels this way at times. But I am more the sort of person who becomes overwhelmed by it all. My standards for myself are far too high. The difference between who I am and who I expect myself to be has grown to an unacceptable distance. Hence, I have become overwhelmed with anxiety. Even now, as I write this, I am kicking myself for being this way. It is extremely difficult for me right now to just cut myself some slack, take a break and still be acceptable.
This question was posed to me today: If your son had no confidence in himself, or was feeling very insecure and unlovable, what would you tell him? I think I have my answer: I would tell him I loved him. I would tell him that he was loved, and that it would always be so, because he is my son. He has intrinsic value. He is accomplished, not because of his accomplishments, but because he lives and breathes and eats and sleeps as himself. I am proud when he does well, because I know he is not hurting himself, but I am just as proud when he is simply himself. He is uniquely him. I would tell him he does not need another, any other, to make him feel like a desirable and successful person, not even me. He would have my confidence and my trust, even if he doesn't have his own. I would use all of the faculties of my mind, I would shamelessly try to convince him and persuade him that he is "the beloved." I would want to fight his shame in full force. I would reason with him about his confidence and help him understand that, without comparison to anyone else, he is incredibly important on his own power. I would tell him to openly accept his faults as uniquely his with an attitude of full, unconditional compassion. I would warn him not to expect something from someone else that he cannot do for himself, because I know he can. In short, I would want to break through his doubt and skepticism about himself with my love and respect for him.
See, I could tell him all this, but I can barely imagine someone saying that to me. My parents never told me that, no one has. It is something others have learned in childhood that I must learn as an adult. I must learn how to accept love, accept myself, and have it be just that simple. I am the one whose standards I must live up to. I intend on lowering those immensely so I can lower my anxiety and raise my confidence. I guess I just want to balance my expectations to the point where I can say, "what I did was what I could do," and have that be okay.
The journey of self-discovery is laced with danger. At every new discovery, every new tendency, every simple mistake in behavior or fault of character, there is the temptation to take such knowledge and condemn ourselves with it. I was never taught how to fight that because my parents were ill-equipped to do so themselves. I know because I spoke with them about it. They passed it on to me and I have continued with it. I am now trying to end it. It is a slow, painful, anxiety-laced journey to accept and love myself.
It is funny how everything I do in life becomes a step to a closer relationship to God. Right now, I want to know God's thoughts about me. He is the source of confidence in myself. He is the source of my acceptance, of grace, of healing, of identity. He is my source of peace while I live. I need to know Him, trust Him, believe Him, and experience His love not just for me, but of me. He is my only confidant, my only consistent lover, because He sees my true value. I believe it is the highest of virtues to trust that God loves us, because frankly, it is our most fundamental need.
Monday, July 16, 2007
A Child's Single-Mindedness
It is moments like these that I have to laugh at myself. I do not laugh because I am not conducting serious business or because I am telling a joke. I laugh because I am somewhat like a child trying to do things that only adults are able to do. It is funny, much as is seeing a child trying on their parents' clothes, trying to eat much too large bites of food, or simply walking in shorter steps trying to keep up. I am growing up in a clumsy sort of way.
Perhaps the most serious of all struggles is the contest of being double-minded. When we are unsettled, undetermined, or even vacillating between two thoughts and different times, we become unstable, unfaithful, and untrue to ourselves. It is clear to me, and quite tragic also, that even the most intelligent among us, with their ability to logically hold many perspectives of the world, cannot attain wisdom because of their double-mindedness. The smartest man is not necessarily the wisest man. They broadly reach out ways in which to understand and live when they really should be reaching deep.
Truly, one of the wisest things ever said was that "everything under the sun is meaningless." The elimination of perspectives and beliefs not yet grounded in experience unites the heart. We cannot find comfort in the truth unless we have rejected mere beliefs. A dually-convinced mind is no mind at all. It is useless, like a mirror broken into a thousand pieces. Shallow, clever, or somewhat peer-pressured perspectives of things that do not resonate with my heart are like poison to me. I am not saying it is inherently bad to understand various arguments and opinions of the world, just as I would not say bleach or sulfuric acid is bad in and of themselves. Indeed, they are quite useful. But if I were to swallow bleach or sulfuric acid, to open my mouth and ingest them as a part of me, I would die from their effects. In the same way, I choose to understand but not believe, to listen but not agree, to want but not need those guesses about life that do not resonate with my heart as if they were solid gold truth.
In this way, I am more like a child than in any other situation. I reach my limits with patience in watching my parents and I want to try on my own. It is more beneficial to me to believe wholeheartedly and unmistakably in one thing than to believe shallowly and cleverly convince myself of some goodness in all things. I prefer to desire the desirable, this is why I am a Christian.
The idea that humanity is a playground (or battleground) for love to be given, received, shared, and that Love Himself exists is irresistible to me. Yes, I confess, I believe because I want to. I am a Christian, not because the sum of the facts about the world and history, but because I am drawn to it. I am pulled in, compelled by the deepest hope that gives me undeniable faith. I need to believe. My greatest needs introduced to the greatest Source creates the perfect magnetism. The message of God's love for me commits me to seeing it through, as if by my efforts I could will it to be. It is a sacred romance, an enchantment with truth. The gospel of redemption penetrates my heart so effortlessly one would think that I have never read any book on religion, philosophy, or enlightenment. Skepticism, double-mindedness, and the debates are left by the wayside as I celebrate the discovery of simply desiring Love, Goodness, and Truth.
I do not know by what means anyone else believes in God, Christianity, or whatever. But for me, I am quite like a child growing up in a world much too large for him, trying to pursue the most desirable thing. I am at my best when I enjoy the enjoyable, love the lovable, and play. It is all really quite silly, something I imagine more intelligent people than myself would call childish, ignorant, or foolish. I admit that I know very little, but at least I know one thing.
"Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." -The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis
Perhaps the most serious of all struggles is the contest of being double-minded. When we are unsettled, undetermined, or even vacillating between two thoughts and different times, we become unstable, unfaithful, and untrue to ourselves. It is clear to me, and quite tragic also, that even the most intelligent among us, with their ability to logically hold many perspectives of the world, cannot attain wisdom because of their double-mindedness. The smartest man is not necessarily the wisest man. They broadly reach out ways in which to understand and live when they really should be reaching deep.
Truly, one of the wisest things ever said was that "everything under the sun is meaningless." The elimination of perspectives and beliefs not yet grounded in experience unites the heart. We cannot find comfort in the truth unless we have rejected mere beliefs. A dually-convinced mind is no mind at all. It is useless, like a mirror broken into a thousand pieces. Shallow, clever, or somewhat peer-pressured perspectives of things that do not resonate with my heart are like poison to me. I am not saying it is inherently bad to understand various arguments and opinions of the world, just as I would not say bleach or sulfuric acid is bad in and of themselves. Indeed, they are quite useful. But if I were to swallow bleach or sulfuric acid, to open my mouth and ingest them as a part of me, I would die from their effects. In the same way, I choose to understand but not believe, to listen but not agree, to want but not need those guesses about life that do not resonate with my heart as if they were solid gold truth.
In this way, I am more like a child than in any other situation. I reach my limits with patience in watching my parents and I want to try on my own. It is more beneficial to me to believe wholeheartedly and unmistakably in one thing than to believe shallowly and cleverly convince myself of some goodness in all things. I prefer to desire the desirable, this is why I am a Christian.
The idea that humanity is a playground (or battleground) for love to be given, received, shared, and that Love Himself exists is irresistible to me. Yes, I confess, I believe because I want to. I am a Christian, not because the sum of the facts about the world and history, but because I am drawn to it. I am pulled in, compelled by the deepest hope that gives me undeniable faith. I need to believe. My greatest needs introduced to the greatest Source creates the perfect magnetism. The message of God's love for me commits me to seeing it through, as if by my efforts I could will it to be. It is a sacred romance, an enchantment with truth. The gospel of redemption penetrates my heart so effortlessly one would think that I have never read any book on religion, philosophy, or enlightenment. Skepticism, double-mindedness, and the debates are left by the wayside as I celebrate the discovery of simply desiring Love, Goodness, and Truth.
I do not know by what means anyone else believes in God, Christianity, or whatever. But for me, I am quite like a child growing up in a world much too large for him, trying to pursue the most desirable thing. I am at my best when I enjoy the enjoyable, love the lovable, and play. It is all really quite silly, something I imagine more intelligent people than myself would call childish, ignorant, or foolish. I admit that I know very little, but at least I know one thing.
"Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." -The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Neediness
Something happened to me on Sunday. I woke up with a desire for intimacy with God that was overwhelming to me. I felt my need for Him weighing down on me with paralyzing force. At first, I panicked. "Fight or flight" instinct kicked in and the anxiety pushed me to rush to church 30 minutes before the first service even started. My heart was breaking, or I was realizing it was broke, as if from the rejection of a fond lover, and I wanted to beg for mercy. "Take me back. Please do not make me feel this way." My need for God, for security, identity and intimacy was laid out in raw form. I could not ignore it.
The sovereignty of God is never more apparent to me as in these moments. It is clear to me: I have a God and He dominates me. I laugh at the absurdity of "free will" in such moments, as if to say, "Choice? What choice? I was overwhelmed." My heart just broke and I was left instantly intoxicated by my need for all things Godly.
I cannot think of anything else but to see Him, hug Him, laugh and cry with Him, eat with Him. I want to blur the border in the "otherness" of matter and exist with Him in time and space. I want Him to exist in me, deep inside me, as me, and I in Him. I want Him so close that my hand on His shoulder is His hand on mine. If the reader isn't too offended, or too Freudian, I would say that my desire for closeness with Him surpassed even the sexual magnetism between lovers. I wanted Him in me, and I in Him, as far as intimacy would allow. Unity, oneness, whatever you want to call it, called to me.
But I did not have it, I simply became aware of my need for it. The desperation of my awareness grew exponentially on Sunday morning and in no time at all it had crushed my heart and left me, teary eyed and sniffling, barely able to lift my head, empty and broken, in the back row of worship at church. I felt like a limp noodle, like a mannequin made of cheap, thin glass.
I stayed for both services solely due to the fact that I knew the pastor would offer prayer services to those who needed it at the end of each. "Hi, my name is Benjamin. I really need God. Can you pray for me?" or something along those lines, was requested of one. I talked with those especially safe friends, who do not offer estranged compassion, advice, or similar stories. Those friends, whose thoughtful smiles and wise eyes melt away the fear of being misunderstood, listened to me for an hour after the last service ended. Right after Independence Day, I learned (felt? experienced? swallowed?) how dependent I was.
That evening I stopped panicking. I was still heart-broken, but I could finally relax. There is a special sort of peace that develops when you are grieving. It is a hard-fought, courageously reasoned, and open perspective of the way things are and the way you wish them to be which calms your nerves and gives you patience. True patience is learned by created comfort, via reasoning, in the midst of adversity.
There is no real end to this story. I still feel the urge to clutch my chest, bend over slightly, and groan. My heart feels like it gained ten dark pounds. I cannot swallow correctly. But at least now I can show a genuinely patient smile. I really need Him for everything. It is a painfully obvious, and painfully not so obvious, truth.
The sovereignty of God is never more apparent to me as in these moments. It is clear to me: I have a God and He dominates me. I laugh at the absurdity of "free will" in such moments, as if to say, "Choice? What choice? I was overwhelmed." My heart just broke and I was left instantly intoxicated by my need for all things Godly.
I cannot think of anything else but to see Him, hug Him, laugh and cry with Him, eat with Him. I want to blur the border in the "otherness" of matter and exist with Him in time and space. I want Him to exist in me, deep inside me, as me, and I in Him. I want Him so close that my hand on His shoulder is His hand on mine. If the reader isn't too offended, or too Freudian, I would say that my desire for closeness with Him surpassed even the sexual magnetism between lovers. I wanted Him in me, and I in Him, as far as intimacy would allow. Unity, oneness, whatever you want to call it, called to me.
But I did not have it, I simply became aware of my need for it. The desperation of my awareness grew exponentially on Sunday morning and in no time at all it had crushed my heart and left me, teary eyed and sniffling, barely able to lift my head, empty and broken, in the back row of worship at church. I felt like a limp noodle, like a mannequin made of cheap, thin glass.
I stayed for both services solely due to the fact that I knew the pastor would offer prayer services to those who needed it at the end of each. "Hi, my name is Benjamin. I really need God. Can you pray for me?" or something along those lines, was requested of one. I talked with those especially safe friends, who do not offer estranged compassion, advice, or similar stories. Those friends, whose thoughtful smiles and wise eyes melt away the fear of being misunderstood, listened to me for an hour after the last service ended. Right after Independence Day, I learned (felt? experienced? swallowed?) how dependent I was.
That evening I stopped panicking. I was still heart-broken, but I could finally relax. There is a special sort of peace that develops when you are grieving. It is a hard-fought, courageously reasoned, and open perspective of the way things are and the way you wish them to be which calms your nerves and gives you patience. True patience is learned by created comfort, via reasoning, in the midst of adversity.
There is no real end to this story. I still feel the urge to clutch my chest, bend over slightly, and groan. My heart feels like it gained ten dark pounds. I cannot swallow correctly. But at least now I can show a genuinely patient smile. I really need Him for everything. It is a painfully obvious, and painfully not so obvious, truth.
Monday, July 02, 2007
I Do Not Belong Here
I have a sense of estrangement to this world. I feel as though I am a traveler from a far distant land that has come to grow up and live where I am. In fact, I do not even claim dual citizenship, this is simply not my home. I have had to learn the language, cultures, customs, and even how to cook and eat the food. But I do not find my identity in these things. They are the mediums by which I live my life, but they do not define me. In fact, I am sometimes slightly annoyed with the fact that I am required to eat and sleep. I am meant for something more.
I feel slightly guilty when I say this because I know how dear my friends are to me and I to them. I further acknowledge that some of them feel the same way I do, maybe even came from the same place, and perhaps that is why we are friends. I cannot explain this much because it is actually quite hard to describe, but I feel like I was placed here, that I originated elsewhere and I was put here for a purpose, but for what I do not know.
Frankly, especially during the hard times in life, I do not care about the purpose. I simply question my obedience to certain dogmas, like when stopped at a red light with no other cars on the road. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? It's just a stupid red light. Blue lights don't do this to me, so why is red so important? It's a red octagon-shaped shard of metal created in some factory that is obligating me to be where I do not want to be for no good reason. Why do I listen to it? I am tired of conforming to the system.
It's not just the socially symbolic things like traffic signs, police, and money that leave me feeling alien. I resent having to eat in order to not be hungry, having to sleep in order to not be tired, having to monitor stress, physical activity, tan lines, and back hair. As Steven Tyler of Aerosmith expressed in a moment of immortal genius, "We are spiritual beings trapped in physical bodies." I hate doing these things out of necessity. I mean, what is the point of fingernails, honestly? Why do I sweat and stink in the heat? Why do my teeth feel like chalk after I sleep? Why can't my clumsy ass just dance like I can imagine? Why does my tongue st-st-st-st-stutter in front of an audience? Why can't I sing how I feel? Did I mention back hair yet? I guess they are part of the purpose for my being here, but I still resent the obligation, the dependence on physical matter. I do not resent responsibility, I would just rather be responsible for something else, like a garden.
Despite the fact that this is a temporary intuition, it occurs quite often. I find myself desiring more, even more than I have ever seen. Even after discovering the most mind-blowing thing in nature, or falling in love, or having the epiphany of a lifetime, I am left slightly dissatisfied. It is like tasting spaghetti, but not my mother's spaghetti; or hugging a stranger instead of a friend; like touching a baby's skin with latex gloves on, I feel that I am not getting the real experience. I know what this is meant to be, but it appears to me as an imitation, an artificial sweetener.
The longer I live my life the more I realize that nothing here will ever meet my need on this level. I am not at home, not even in my greatest triumphs, loveliest relationships, or standing in the face of the most amazing scenery. Sometimes they merely resemble shadows.
Another Lewis quote:
“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."
Hebrews 11:13-14:
"All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them."
I feel slightly guilty when I say this because I know how dear my friends are to me and I to them. I further acknowledge that some of them feel the same way I do, maybe even came from the same place, and perhaps that is why we are friends. I cannot explain this much because it is actually quite hard to describe, but I feel like I was placed here, that I originated elsewhere and I was put here for a purpose, but for what I do not know.
Frankly, especially during the hard times in life, I do not care about the purpose. I simply question my obedience to certain dogmas, like when stopped at a red light with no other cars on the road. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? It's just a stupid red light. Blue lights don't do this to me, so why is red so important? It's a red octagon-shaped shard of metal created in some factory that is obligating me to be where I do not want to be for no good reason. Why do I listen to it? I am tired of conforming to the system.
It's not just the socially symbolic things like traffic signs, police, and money that leave me feeling alien. I resent having to eat in order to not be hungry, having to sleep in order to not be tired, having to monitor stress, physical activity, tan lines, and back hair. As Steven Tyler of Aerosmith expressed in a moment of immortal genius, "We are spiritual beings trapped in physical bodies." I hate doing these things out of necessity. I mean, what is the point of fingernails, honestly? Why do I sweat and stink in the heat? Why do my teeth feel like chalk after I sleep? Why can't my clumsy ass just dance like I can imagine? Why does my tongue st-st-st-st-stutter in front of an audience? Why can't I sing how I feel? Did I mention back hair yet? I guess they are part of the purpose for my being here, but I still resent the obligation, the dependence on physical matter. I do not resent responsibility, I would just rather be responsible for something else, like a garden.
Despite the fact that this is a temporary intuition, it occurs quite often. I find myself desiring more, even more than I have ever seen. Even after discovering the most mind-blowing thing in nature, or falling in love, or having the epiphany of a lifetime, I am left slightly dissatisfied. It is like tasting spaghetti, but not my mother's spaghetti; or hugging a stranger instead of a friend; like touching a baby's skin with latex gloves on, I feel that I am not getting the real experience. I know what this is meant to be, but it appears to me as an imitation, an artificial sweetener.
The longer I live my life the more I realize that nothing here will ever meet my need on this level. I am not at home, not even in my greatest triumphs, loveliest relationships, or standing in the face of the most amazing scenery. Sometimes they merely resemble shadows.
Another Lewis quote:
“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."
Hebrews 11:13-14:
"All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them."
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Résumé Writing
I just finished writing my résumé. As with all good résumés, mine employs action words like “developed,” “maintained,” and “organized.” It is has a simple layout and uses short, descriptive sentences. Even though it is somewhat debated among résumé advisors, I decided to have an “Objective” section. I am rather proud of summarizing things so concisely and efficiently, even if I used two pages to do so.
But this is not an employee résumé. I will not be turning it into any potential employers because this résumé is a summary of my life, complete with important events and relationships. For example, my “Objective” section is as follows: “To glorify God by enjoying Him forever.” I debated using “To be happy” instead, but there really is no happiness if it is not about something. Of course, I also have an “Education” section, but below that are the “Relationship History,” “Greatest Compliments,” and “Excellent Friendships” (which really doubles as my references) sections.
The Relationship History section begins like this:
Jennifer Howard
January 1998 – December 2000
Dating with Discussions of Marriage
Under the Greatest Compliments section are a few of my favorites:
“I feel so much safer knowing someone like you is defending this country.”
“I have learned more from being your friend than an entire lifetime at church.”
“If I could only have one other person with me on the planet, it would be you.”
“If I ever end up going to war again, I want you fighting right next to me.”
That last quote came from my Drill Sergeant in boot camp. The date they were received and the speaker’s name are noted in proper format for a professional-looking résumé. I had difficulty recalling these exact quotes, so it took me some time. The “Excellent Friendships” section was difficult to write also, but for a different reason. Due to spatial concerns (one can never overwhelm the reader of a résumé with too much content), I had to narrow it down to three. Clearly, this section overlapped with my “Paradigm Shifts” and “Challenges so Hard I Wanted to Quit” sections because my most excellent friendships were born out of such moments.
The vulnerability present on these two simple pages is terrifying. There it is, my life, with all of its accomplishments, compliments, friendships, mistakes, and intentions gone sour. I think the format made it easier to write, and makes it easier to look at, given that it is simply a basic summary in a presentable layout. These pages contain the most concise and accurate (to me) portrayal of who I am and who I have been. It wasn’t as depressing to write as I first thought. In fact, I feel a sense of relief or release or self-actualization or something else a psychologist would say. In any case, it was a great exercise, and I will probably do it again in a few years’ time.
But this is not an employee résumé. I will not be turning it into any potential employers because this résumé is a summary of my life, complete with important events and relationships. For example, my “Objective” section is as follows: “To glorify God by enjoying Him forever.” I debated using “To be happy” instead, but there really is no happiness if it is not about something. Of course, I also have an “Education” section, but below that are the “Relationship History,” “Greatest Compliments,” and “Excellent Friendships” (which really doubles as my references) sections.
The Relationship History section begins like this:
Jennifer Howard
January 1998 – December 2000
Dating with Discussions of Marriage
- Introduced to her at church and developed a friendship
- Requested her to join me for prom and organized the trip
- Maintained a dating relationship for two years until I moved away to college
- Ended the relationship when I realized we could never end up together
Under the Greatest Compliments section are a few of my favorites:
“I feel so much safer knowing someone like you is defending this country.”
“I have learned more from being your friend than an entire lifetime at church.”
“If I could only have one other person with me on the planet, it would be you.”
“If I ever end up going to war again, I want you fighting right next to me.”
That last quote came from my Drill Sergeant in boot camp. The date they were received and the speaker’s name are noted in proper format for a professional-looking résumé. I had difficulty recalling these exact quotes, so it took me some time. The “Excellent Friendships” section was difficult to write also, but for a different reason. Due to spatial concerns (one can never overwhelm the reader of a résumé with too much content), I had to narrow it down to three. Clearly, this section overlapped with my “Paradigm Shifts” and “Challenges so Hard I Wanted to Quit” sections because my most excellent friendships were born out of such moments.
The vulnerability present on these two simple pages is terrifying. There it is, my life, with all of its accomplishments, compliments, friendships, mistakes, and intentions gone sour. I think the format made it easier to write, and makes it easier to look at, given that it is simply a basic summary in a presentable layout. These pages contain the most concise and accurate (to me) portrayal of who I am and who I have been. It wasn’t as depressing to write as I first thought. In fact, I feel a sense of relief or release or self-actualization or something else a psychologist would say. In any case, it was a great exercise, and I will probably do it again in a few years’ time.
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