"Would you ask someone else to obey that rule?" My Shrink asks me questions like that. "Would you treat one of your patients (he uses the language of his own discipline, here,) one of your "patients" to live up to that standard? Is that the advise you'd give someone who came to you looking for love and compassion?"
No. I'd listen. I'd accept. I'd sit with them, and walk beside them.
Like a warrior.
Like a neighbor.
Like the kind of friend I hope I'd be.
Like the kind of friend I need to be...
To myself?
I've been wondering if my life might be different, if my path might be wiser if I committed less energy to condemning myself and my neighbors for the imperfections we share. I wonder how much my own capacity to love others is limited by my contempt for so much in myself?
Its a strange business: self-love. It feels immodest. Un-Presbyterian. Un-Christian. We are supposed to hate the way we are, aren't we? We're supposed to abhor our sinful nature, and be grateful for a God who is willing to forgive and perfect us through Grace and the sacrifice of his Son. I know that's a distorted way of looking at the doctrine of salvation, but I have to admit that thread got woven into my faith tapestry somewhere along the line.
What if I've got it all wrong? What if what I really need is not condemnation but Grace? What if I could forgive myself? Accept myself? Allow myself to be seen as imperfect, and sub-standard, and, well... human? Might I find whole new reserves of love and compassion for the people I serve?
What if I loved myself the way I wish I could love other people? Would that help me to be more kind to the geezer whose stories never end or the granny who miseries and grievances well up from a bottomless pit? The ex who decided I just wasn't the one she was looking for? The never-ex who didn't requite a passionate offer? These people don't get my best. Sometimes they get my worst.
No. No, they don't get my worst. I save that for the one it hurts the most.
I save my worst for myself. And I can't help but think that unkindness is keeping me from giving others my best.
Something has to change, but what? What to do differently? What would I do for a neighbor, hell, for a stranger who needed me?
Listen, Accept. Sit with them. Walk with them. Like a warrior. Like a friend.
I have a feeling that my meditation practice can be helpful here. What is meditation if not listening? When I listen to my body and my mind, my imagination and my emotions, I find that I frequently don't like what I hear. Often when that happens, I give up on the practice. "Not a good day to meditate, I guess."
Maybe I need a different approach. What if I heard those thoughts and feelings? Those shameful memories and frustrations? What if instead of making myself busy, finding something else to do, I sit with myself like a friend, and share the unpleasantness? Maybe, instead of giving up on my friend Bob, I could wait with him while he goes through the hard times, and then get up and walk beside him as he gets on with the life through which he carries his burdens. Maybe I could fight the fight alongside him, because his fight is also mine.
Maybe then, I could fight beside you. Because sometimes your fight is also mine.
I know it sounds crazy to talk like an observer who stands outside himself, loving himself. But how is that any more crazy than standing out there passing judgement on myself?
Maybe it's time to embrace the crazy. Try finding ways to forgive, accept, and heal the well-intentioned yet deeply flawed, loving and deeply loved old man in the mirror. He may have a lot to teach me. Maybe we can learn from each other.
That's the advice I'd give to someone I loved.
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