Pragmatic, skeptical, even-tempered, strong-willed, impatient with inefficiencies and with irrational situations . . . are a few descriptors of the Myers-Briggs Rational personality type. I'm sort of a Sheldon Cooper, except that he's a genius and an entertaining TV character. And I'm neither. Sooo, that leaves me with pretty much just basic logic and being easily over-stimulated. Nonetheless, one of many reasons I enjoy binge-watching "The Big Bang Theory" is because it gives to me both humility and humor. Any number of the characters, either by context or direct dialogue, are regularly called out for excessive dedication to truth and reason. Thankfully, by virtue of my parents and siblings, who are of a variety of temperaments, I've stretched some beyond my natural tendencies. I've gotten pretty good at giving grace to others, but it's still my challenge.
Additionally, I know that I struggle with something from the "nurture" input of the personhood equation. I heard years ago that adult children of an alcoholic parent often have strong gut instincts, but ironically, are prone to ignore that very intuition. Repeated days of waiting for the parent to show up, late, and contending with a whole bucket of similar, trust-busting behaviors, the children excuse and rationalize. We say, "It's okay," so we don't have to sever the relationship with the mostly absent first dad. It can become habitual even outside of the parental relationship.
And these two things -- grace and gut -- converge on me today, when I sit in the aftermath of months of intense, smack-down lessons from the universe.
The negative in life isn't necessary. It tests you to prepare skills for dealing with future negative stuff, but that's cyclical reasoning. (And we all know that Sherdon ain't down with that.) I do believe, however, that if sucky things happen, I best squeeze some silver lining from it. (How's that for a poor mixing of metaphors?) The reality is that there will be some sort of unpleasantness to cross my path again, because the ways of the world ignore my preferred rules. Even better, though, wisdom makes more meaningful the otherwise ordinary moments of dailiness. So, I'm using this life transition of Chad and I moving our family to a new home, new town, and new school as my wake up call finally to trust my gut. I need to heed caution instead of granting excuses when I smell insincerity. Second chances are given for sincerity, because we all mess up. But if it keeps walking like a duck, and keeps quacking like a duck, then, for the love of God . . .
At the same time, however, for all who are sincere -- and this is an equally great challenge -- for all who are sincere, give grace. Give grace widely and freely, when I'm tired, when I'm impatient, when I think I see the rational solution, when I feel misunderstood, when I'm hungry. And when I get caught up in old habits, I hope I sit in a place of humility, and start, again. This is something I can not attain, but, I will try, because in the words of St. Francis, "It is in pardoning that we are pardoned." I'm convinced that the only reality we have is connection with our fellow human beings. This spring, when Chad and my sense of reality was turned upside-down with regard to a few people with whom we'd worked, the petty differences between those gathered around our lunch table -- the idealists, guardians, artisans, and rationales -- became irrelevant. As did the diverse goals and styles of those across departments of the building and among leaders of dissimilar clubs and activities. Our individual skills and our personal methods of coping became inconsequential to our connections. We needed each other. We kept each other going -- one foot in front of the other, one day at a time. In late May,after a lunchtime of movie talk, a fellow lunch mate emailed to us an excerpt from "The Breakfast Club letter": "You see us as you want to see us – in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain...and an athlete...and a basket case...a princess...and a criminal. Does that answer your question?" She followed that with "Cue music..." to which another colleague and friend replied perfectly with Simple Minds' lyrics: "Don't You Forget About Me. Don't Don't Don't Don't. Don't You Forget About Me."
On my last day of this school year, the tension was palpable and our comradery stirred in an equal measure of intensity. It was a dark and beautiful, day. We felt empowered by each other and from a place of humility. A humble confidence, if you will. When you've seen someone vulnerable, and they've seen you likewise, that mutual trust has depth. We are fellow travelers -- 8 miles or 108 miles of road between us. We're all going to be alright. Weary, but alright, because truth always wins -- eventually, and always.
So, tomorrow. And my energy. I'm keeping it turned inward, upon myself, to channel this low, honest place. I plan to catch myself over and over, and to do better.
