Serenity

At one point in my life, every time that I heard someone reference or repeat the Serenity Prayer, I would roll my eyes, or at the very least, get that feeling inside that you get when you roll your eyes. I think that we all know it, but just in case we don't, here you go:

God, grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change;

Courage to change the things I can;

And wisdom to know the difference.

See? You've heard or read that before, surely. Maybe tacked up in an office cubicle, modified with a picture of someone strangling a cat, or edited to include some witty reference as to exactly what you'd like to do to the person testing your patience. It's pithy, and quotable. It's also, as I think about it more as a philosophical text and less as a pop culture reference, actually pretty deep. So deep that it's been modified and included in 12 Step Programs, the modified version of which I had never read before, and you probably haven't either, unless you've been in a 12 Step Program, or you're a Wiki geek like me.

God, grant us the...

Serenity to accept things we cannot change,

Courage to change the things we can, and the

Wisdom to know the difference

Patience for the things that take time

Appreciation for all that we have, and

Tolerance for those with different struggles

Freedom to live beyond the limitations of our past ways, the

Ability to feel your love for us and our love for each other and the

Strength to get up and try again even when we feel it is hopeless.

This version changes things completely. This is exactly the kind of life instruction I've been looking for, and the lessons are immediately applicable in my life.

There is so much that I want to change, and that I can't. My mind honestly works at the insurmountable things in my life like it's trying to solve a Gordian knot. Accepting that I just can't change them, that there isn't always a bold move to suddenly make them right, is really very hard for me. In my mind, letting go of something is tantamount to admitting that you failed at making it work. It's one of the reasons that my marriage lasted as long as it did. I didn't want to admit that it had failed, even though the evidence was all around me. I need to learn to visualize the weight that I feel from these things as rocks, and to just drop them instead of carrying them with me everywhere I go.

I could be spending as much time battling with these issues as I do because I lack the courage to just change the things that I can, and should. It's easier for me to tell myself that I don't know what to do to fix something than it is to accept the solution that would fix it, because I want a fixed outcome, requiring the serenity to accept that I can't change the outcome. There are times when I will worry at something into weariness, exhausting every possible outcome, just to avoid accepting the fact that I have to make changes, like ending my marriage.

Having the wisdom to know the difference isn't the same thing as the intelligence to recognize the difference. I'm intelligent enough to know, for example, that I can't force some things to happen in my life by my timetable. I can't, for example, force someone to choose a path in their life that leads them to immediately to me simply because it would make me happy. I know that. I'm not, however, wise enough to assimilate that into my day to day hopes and fears. On a certain level, I have this childish need to have my own insecurities and doubts allayed constantly, and I should probably see a therapist about that.

The rest of the 12 Step version is what really drew me in, though. Because I need the patience to realize that not all wonderful things in life germinate, take root, and blossom overnight. Roses may smell sweet when they're budding, but if we pick them too soon, they'll never attain the potential that they could have had if we had left them there until they were ready, yellow, and inviting. I need to learn to appreciate what I have, and not just yearn for what I don't. I need to learn that what I'm going through isn't what everyone else is going through, and that the people around me are struggling with their own problems. I need to learn to forgive myself for the things that I've done and can't change, and to forgive others for things that I'm still angry over.

The loving part I've always been good at. It's one of the reasons that I've learned over the years to be selective about the relationships that I engage in with people. Everyone deserves to be loved, at least a little, but the people in my life that I love, well, I never love in half measures. I do need to learn, though, that the strength to get up again doesn't always have to come from inside of me. I have a hard time reaching out to people when I'm in pain, a hard time admitting that I need help, because it's always seemed like an admission of weakness. When I do reach out, I need to learn when to stop asking for more than someone can give, because the world doesn't revolve around me. Well, except to my babies.

Which brings me back to my need for this whole philosophical lesson in the first place. I'm in a place in life that's unstable. The plans that I had made with the mother of my children about their future have changed a few times. I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was, but I allowed myself to think that it could all work out in the end. My faith was misplaced. I'm still not sure what's going to happen, but I know that I need to take steps to take care of it, so that it doesn't take care of itself without my input. My energy needs to be spent on securing what's best for them.

I feel like a man who's been handed a painting by Monet, while his house is in smoking ruins around him. Before I can figure out where to hang it, I need to, well, rebuild my house. Sure, I could just throw up some joists and sheetrock and then hang it on my impromptu wall, but if I don't have a house built around that wall, it's eventually going to fall. As much as I hate to, I need to stop admiring the beauty of the Monet, put it down, and get to work on rebuilding the house, making it stable and secure, a warm and comforting place for my children to grow up, admiring it's beauty with me. It's not going anywhere. It's still my Monet. Unless the deliveryman comes back and picks it up, because it wasn't supposed to be delivered to me in the first place. See? See how my mind works? This is why I need to work on this whole thing.

Next time we'll talk about the classic proverb that begins with "If you love something, set it free..."

Or maybe we won't, I don't know, I've got to shop for sheetrock and lumber first. Does anyone have nails? And maybe a hammer?

On Love, Again

When I was a minister in training, I would almost always emphasize the love of Christ in my sermon studies. Rather than focus on the post-mortem structure of Peter and Paul that give most conservative ministers license to condemn everyone under the sun to Hell, it was important to me that we remember that He socialized with the undesirable, and that He gave love to those who were judged as unlovable by everyone else. One of my favorite passages in the NT was a definition of what love should be.

^{1 Corinthians 13:4-8
4}Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. ⁸Love never fails.

You may have noticed that my last rambling diatribe of a post has been removed. I removed it because, as soon as I posted it, it felt wrong. It felt self serving, and self centered. It felt as though I were putting my love on display for all to see, and saying "Look! Look at what manner of man that I am, giving all and being repaid with sorrow!"

(edit: I have republished that post. Revisionist historians always bothered me.)

At the end of the day, whether I sleep alone or not, whether I weep or laugh, whether I have peace or my mind refuses to allow it, my life, and my love, are the result of choices that I have made. There is no room in agape for "but...". Love is patient. Love is kind. Love doesn't boast, and it isn't proud. It isn't self seeking. It isn't easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. My last post was the reflection of something that was not patient, that was not kind. It was a boast. It was proud, and self seeking. It was angry. It wanted to keep record of wrongs. It was not protective, it had lost trust, and hope. It had failed. This is not how I love.

I try very hard to be honest, and to remember how fortunate I am. I have the love of an incredible woman, who only asks me to give her agape in return. To give her patience. To be kind. This should be easy for me, because this is how I love.

I am not, unfortunately, a strong man. I frequently despair over my weaknesses. I am going through one of the most difficult periods that I have ever experienced in my life, and rather than face it head on, as I should, I whine about going through it alone. There are widows in third world countries trying to find a way to feed their children on less money a month than I make in a day. There are good, hardworking people going through trials in their lives that make mine look like a walk in the park. I should be grateful that I have what I do.

I have four beautiful children who love me more than anyone else on the face of the earth. I am at the center of their universes. I have a family willing to move mountains to help me do what's best for them. I have 6 friends who love and support me, because when I choose friends I choose the right people. I have a great job, and managers who work with me on trying to figure out what it is that I want to be, and how to get me there. I have the freedom and the resources to allow me to plan a trip to see the most amazing woman on the face of the planet, and she makes as much time for me as she can when I do. I have an incredible woman who completes me, and all that she asks me for is time, and patience.

Who am I, to complain? I should be grateful and glad, to have so much. That is how I should love.

On Love, and Happiness

In the past, I've been rather coy regarding my happiness, and the cause. Or at least, I thought that I was. In hindsight now, I think that it would be obvious to all who read my previous posts that the happiness that I spoke of was in fact love. While my last post was titled "The Last Post", I have in fact been struggling with the situation since.

I am in love with a woman who is unavailable to me. I first saw her 16 years ago in college, standing alone on the quad, obviously waiting for someone. I tried an unbelievably corny but original pickup line. "You know, if you're waiting for him now, he'll keep you waiting forever." It was the only time that a pickup line has ever worked for me. She was the first woman that I really, truly loved. The first woman that I ever proposed to. My first lesson in what happens when you stop paying attention, and take someone for granted. We lost touch for almost 15 years. When I began my journey back into freedom, I looked for her, because she was the last woman in whose life I felt that I had truly made a positive difference. When I reached out to her, I hoped to hear that she was happy, that I had indeed made a positive difference in her life. Her story is her own to tell, but chance and circumstance conspired to bring us back together at a time when we were both in pain.

The Greeks have several words for love. The two that we most commonly would identify with are agape and philia. Agape is unconditional love, commonly reserved for reference to the love shared between spouses or family members. Philia is brotherly love, commonly used when referring to the affection between friends. I mention this because, when I give someone agape, I love them with all of my being. There are few things that could bring me to break that tie with someone, dishonesty being paramount, and the giving of that love has been very rare for me.

I have loved no one in my life like I love this woman. I can tell you her favorite author. I can tell you her favorite book by that author. I can tell you what her favorite band is, what the side projects of the band members are, and what bands the members came from to form that band. I can tell you who her favorite baseball team is, what her favorite football teams are (pro and college), what her favorite car is, what her favorite comfort food is, what her favorite adult beverage is, what her favorite cologne is, what her favorite candy bar is, and how she likes her tea. I know where she likes to be touched, and how she likes her massages. We've decided what to name our dog, and our child, if we should decide to have one. I will spend over a third of a day driving in order to spend 15 minutes with her, then turn around and drive back. I call her before I get out of bed in the morning, and I listen to audio on my phone of her telling me how much she loves me before I go to sleep. I want to wake up next to her and go to sleep with her every day for the rest of my life. She has been my everything, and I want her to be, because she is amazing.

I would like to say that this love is not unrequited. Because of the nature of the situation that she finds herself in, I'm limited to talking to her while she's at work, when I call, and she has time. I'm limited to hearing from her via email while she's at work, and when she has time. I'm on her mind, though, she tells me, even when she can't communicate with me. She's coming someday, she says. She just needs time, to find the right time to break away from the comfort of everything that she's known for the last 14 years and make an incredible leap of faith. My solace in the off hours is to read her Facebook status updates, and watch her banter with a man who tells her that she's blackhearted and judgmental, and that she ruined his life. It's been 3 days now, since last I've heard from her. It will be at least 5 before I do, and that's if I'm lucky.

I know. I know how it looks. I know how it feels, on the bad days and the good. I've tried to look for someone else to fill the void. At the end of the day, though, no one can take her place. She is my puzzle piece. When I close my eyes, I see the light of love that fills her eyes for me, and I know that I could no more turn my back to her than I could stop breathing. Agape. Unconditional. Even when conditions aren't always what we would like them to be. Because that's the way that I love.

I create those conditions for myself, though. I let them control me. By letting my anxiety, my low self esteem, and my impatience create a feedback loop that pulls me down ever further, I move further and further from the positive place that I should be bringing myself to. I have to learn to recognize that I can do nothing more to have a positive effect on the outcome of the situation that I find myself in. If who I am is enough, and if the situation that she's in hasn't made her leave by now, I can't be "more" of that person and make her decide to come sooner. I can only make it worse by trying, and can produce no positive outcome at all through the sheer amount of worry that I go through over it.

Several of my friends have counseled that I should stop trying to find my happiness through my relationships with others, and instead try to find my happiness within. That until I can find a way to be happy alone, I will never be happy with someone else. I don't know how to do this. My waking thoughts are occupied by what I could be doing differently, what I might have done wrong, how I could make her happier. One of my friends has told me that I need to quiet all of the inner voices and listen for my own, the one giving me the answer. I'm afraid of letting go. Afraid of focusing on myself. Afraid of what the answer might be.

Besides, for now I have plenty of other things to think about. My children, first and foremost. They need me now more than they have ever needed me. They should be my everything. There is a real possibility in the near future that I may need to take them. To find a way to give them a stable, responsible, and orderly home. To shuttle them to school, to find a way to pick them up. To be everything that they need me to be. I only hope that I can be. I only know that I will never give up on trying. Because that's the way that I love.