Emptiness can be not only the prelude to filling but the method of filling. Paradoxically, it seems that we can actually empty ourselves in a bad way as we try to fill ourselves up with every little thing in life through excessive busyness. It's a tough judgment call because our activities and interactions in life are very much a part of our development as authentic human beings. Our activities are as important as our silent moments. And the balance of active vs. passive is going to be different for each of us. We all have different personalities and temperaments. But it becomes very easy to forget, no matter our natural temperaments, that what we do is different from that we are.

In this world where conditional love is more the norm, we often don't think much about the "that we are" aspect of ourselves. Who gives us credit for that? Usually we have to do something, and do it well, in order to gain accolades and a sense of worth, in order for other people to treat us like we matter. We all know what it's like to walk straight past some indigent on the street with his or her begging cup in hand. Often we pass by with eyes straight forward. It's not necessarily that we're heartless, but deep down we know we must keep moving or we're going to end up like them. And then no one will care for us. We will be abandoned. We will be helpless and powerless. That's our everyday "working" reality, and we'll probably be hard-pressed to find three people in our lives who think differently. We rarely stop to question the supposed realities of life. Of course we must achieve, and keep on achieving, or the weight of the world will collapse in on us. Why, just look at those people on the street begging for money.

So we often have no trouble filling the "what we do" aspect of ourselves. And we fill and we fill and we fill and it is never enough. It never can be enough. When one is defined by doing then there is always something more that can be done or something we are doing now that can be done better. And again, try to find more than three people in your life right now who don't consider this to be a noble and worthwhile pursuit. It's taken for granted. It's how we become vital (if sometimes unnoticed and underappreciated) cogs in this vast machine of cultural doing. Doing is the thing. In fact, it doesn't particularly matter what you're doing. Nike has a slogan that puts an exclamation point on this notion: "Just do it."

But if doing and having were truly filling, the west, in particular, would be stuffed to the gills with peace, happiness, and contentment. But it's just the opposite. One look at what we're watching on TV for entertainment will show you the rot. One look at how much mood-altering substances we are taking will show you the lack of being full. One look at what is being expressed in much of art, from rap music to stand-up comedy, will show you the cynicism and simmering anger that underscores a great many of our lives. So when do we ever get around to considering how full or empty our "that we are" aspect of ourselves is? We often don't. And so naturally when we get those uncomfortable feelings of boredom, emptiness, pointlessness, meaninglessness, or despair our first instinct is to do what we have always done and try to, once again, fill our "what we do" selves.

But consider that if there is a "that we are" aspect to ourselves -- an aspect that has merit, goodness, and value just because it exists � and if we were to want to fill it, we might first need to get to know it first, to get in touch with it, to learn how it eats, breaths, and thinks. And in order to do so we would likely need to peel off the layers of "what we do" stuff. We would have to disrobe ourselves, in effect. We would need to reduce the noise and change the focus. And having donned all that "stuff" for so long, and having come to depend on it for our identity and worth, we're going to feel rather naked and bare � even empty � as we start to undress. But emptiness is exactly what we need. It's not a sign of going in the wrong direction (unless the only direction one can conceive of is "do, do, do"). It's a sign that we are gaining the stance and orientation we need to delve into the vastness of the "that we are" aspect of ourselves. And this is where "I Am" interfaces with "we are". And that interface isn't about accumulation. It's about communion. Different rules apply. It's about opening a connection, not closing a deal.

There are probably a hundred other, gentler steps one can take from a "doing" orientation to a "being" orientation. AA has twelve steps, after all. But it sure looks like emptiness is the expressway. But however we get there, I think we know we are getting there when we start asking ourselves "What if I am complete as I am?" instead of "What more do I need to do?"


Thanks, Freebird.

We should probably start a paradox thread, but one of the biggest paradoxes I see, if not the biggest one, is the paradox of being born into this world with a survival instinct. And having been born into this world we might first of all suppose that this is good, that there is a point to it all, even if we can�t be 100% sure of what that point is. And seeing how readily our survival instinct kicks in (as well as noticing the energetic survival instinct of all other life forms), we might rightly suppose that life is something that we are meant to hang onto as precious. But too much of a survival instinct can (paradoxically) have the opposite effect. Even if there is no more to life than our earthly existence, we rob ourselves of life (if we suppose that quality of life counts as a measure of life) if we hold on too tightly, if we hold on so tight to our ideas and conceptions that we feel that were we to lose them would be to experience a partial death. When is the desire to survive too much? I don�t know, but at some point it becomes too much. And for those who understand life as more than our earthly existence, there can be a freedom and peace that comes from letting go of such a tight grip on self and ideas. And this loosening can so enhance life that one might indeed see the world in a grain of sand and find eternity in an hour. Life can expand vertically even while very possible shrinking temporally.

And speaking of emptiness, one thing I�ve noticed the past couple of months or so, is that when I get a tinge of existential "ackkk!", of a bit of a panicky feeling of emptiness, of not being enough, of being a lost cause, of being forever behind the rest, it�s almost always immediately followed by a real and tangible sense of peace. That just happened again a few minutes ago. It�s very odd but I�ll take it.

Hi Brad and Freebird,

OK, here is a bit more on my situation in life.

I�m 44 years old, married since �85, no children. After I got married and then more so, after we were unable to have a child, I started to notice that interaction with my mother got me depressed. I also started to notice that less interaction with her seemed to make me happier. So I started to make a shift. First, saying, �I want to stop having these weekly phone calls,� then, �I�m not coming home for Christmas� then, �I don�t want to participate in any sort of holiday or birthday celebrations,� then, �I don�t want to come home for a family photo��

I have told my parents and siblings they are welcome to call me or visit me any time. They don�t call or visit much. Without the ritual context, and without me taking initiative, there is not much to say or do together.

A couple of times in recent years my dad has said, �I love you� to me, and I said, �I love you too.� I feel a kind of tender kindness between us.

I don�t have a conscious memory of my mother saying, �I love you� to me. When she made the, in my view, mean comment last time I saw her, she didn't follow it with an apology. When I toy with the idea of saying to her, �I love you,� I feel kind of crazy. There is a kind of separation of my thoughts and feelings, an inauthenticity. When I think the words, �I hate you,� it seems real. The thought of being near her makes me feel tense and yucky. On the other hand, I do feel comfortable, when not in direct contact with her, �honoring� her by seeking to love God and love my neighbor as myself, and when my neighbors are enemies, loving my enemies.

I�m her flesh and blood, her firstborn son. Many of my life skills come directly from her modeling and training. I think that we are connected invisibly in such a way that my loving acts toward others honor her.

When I think of my supervisor at work (the one who spoke the unkind words that struck an old wound, the supervisor who, when I told her it hurt, asked for forgiveness) and I think the words, �I love you,� it rings true. By asking for forgiveness, she has become my healer. I don�t think I need to say those words to her, �I love you,� (although I�m willing if the appropriate context would arise) but I believe it comes through in my actions because it is authentic.


I was introduced to a new coworker today, he had on a shirt and said, in bold letters, "don't judge me." I can relate here. I'm putting a part of my story out that a lot of people might find troublesome.
But there it is.

Brad's quote from his previous post:

"What if I am complete as I am?", instead of "What more do I need to do?".
_______________________________________

Being here right now in this moment is all we really have, need and, therefore, we are complete. There is nothing to strive for, nor anything to attain,; only the joy of life itself and a childlike trust of a better life to come. We must have faith and hope in a higher power or in a loving God. Without this belief and a purpose for our being here, what is there otherwise?.

Being complete describes a state of being, a state of contentment, peace and tranquility, as we accept life on life's terms, period, and as we flow with its everchanging tide, we remain centered within the core of our being, knowing that the waves of the sea of life will guide us to what we need for our surrender and not for us to make things happen. There is no escaping the opposite forces that reside here on planet earth, good and evil, right or wrong, Master and slave, are always battling for ownership within us. The lures and attractions, the joys overcoming the pains and sorrow, constant wants and needs must be laid to rest. It is not a better lover, house, job, more money or fame that gives us conpleteness and peace; only the truth of our being content in the station of our lives were we are in right now. Our true peace is what lives within us and not externally. Oh, you can look everywhere for this illusion of it being outside yourself, but I guarantee you that such a search will always leave you unfulfilled.

I love these exhanges with Brad who is a great thinker and he stimulates our thought process, which is very healthy, indeed. I on the other hand need to keep things simple and am not blessed with an analytical approach in figuring things out. For me to try and find the answers to many of life's questions and the causes of humanity's dilemmas, sufferings and their cures creates only frustration which serves no one.

What is it that we really need to live here on earth. We need shelter, clothing, a job to make money so that we can pay for these things inclucing medical care. The peace and acceptance of ourselves and life is solely dependent upon us. We can either accept illnesses, cicumstances whereby things happen unfavorable in all of our lives, or we can choose to fight against things leaving us mental and physical wrecks. The sun shines on all and the rain falls on all of mankind, making no distinctions.

In an earlier post we discussed self-hate. This is as mentioned a state that most of us have experienced at one time. I also was in such a state many years ago whereby I hated things that I had done, and even went further by taking on the evil done to me by others. It was a hellish state of being with no relief in sight. When I died to all and everything ten years ago, a new creature came into being. A new creature that finds joy, peace, love, forgiveness, and happiness each and every day. I have found completion within myself and therefore everything is okay. This state of being is now were nothing affrights me nor anything disturbs me. I can look at these two opposing forces residing with us on earth and no longer be pulled into one direction nor another. I have put my faith and trust in God and He does not fail us, in no matter what place and situation we are in right now at this moment in time.

As Brad said we need to stay in any uncomfortable state of being knowing that everything is fine and that this uncomfortableness will be transmuted in our growth as a human and spiritual creature. There is nothing to change, nothing to alleviate and nothing at all to despair about. How would we ever know about love, until we become aware of what love is not. How would we ever know joys, peace and happiness, unless we are aware of its opposite.

To know that we come from the essence and love of God and that it is the essence of His (Her, Mother ) love flowing in and through us all,. how could we be anything but love, peace, joy and happiness.

Yes, do see the world in a grain of sand, and find eternity in an hour.

To Brad's tangible sense of peace, it is love in motion and our embracing you with this love here on the forum

I have loved thee with an everlasting love, and with lovingkindness have I drawn thee. Jeremiah 31:3

Brad, you got me thinking about emptiness. Here is my take on the theme at the moment.

When spirit becomes flesh, the spirit is self-emptying or pouring out on that flesh, in that flesh, through that flesh. And when that flesh receives spirit it is humbled, brought to the brink of mortal death, indeed brought to a kind of death. In the ecstasy of love, the flesh is purified, emptied of its fleshy addictions, released from desire. And from the exchange, a new union of body and spirit is born, born from above. And what is the new body, spirit to do? Love God, love humanity, flesh and all, give thanks, die.

Hallelujah Ryan. Beautifully said: in dying we are truly born again from above. I second your words: And what is the new spirit/body to do, Love God, love humanity and give thanks.

It's unusual, but we both cross posted twice.

Am so happy and thankful for your sharing.

Hi Freebird,

Looks like you and I were writing at the same time.

Make that three times.

Few things are as difficult as wading through the minefield of morality, particularly when it concerns our family, especially parents. We run into all the major issues: Obeying authority vs. respecting what is right. Honoring someone "just because"(despite merit), even while we, who may be quite deserving of long overdue love and respect, must do without. We, the children, are often forced to play the part of adults, the mature ones, the one who must show restraint, while parents indulge in immature, childish behavior. And then there are the politics of families themselves. Few families are without issues. Many families have serious issues, and when one family member attempt to break away from the constraints of what is often codependent behavior, that family member can be beaten up pretty bad by guilt, shame and isolation, all for trying to do the right thing and move on from dysfunction to health, happiness, and love. One may have forgiven all and be harboring no hard feelings, but a lot of "yuck" will likely still be thrust upon the person who is attempting to chart his or her own course. It's a no-win situation and it seems like the only thing to do is to put distance between yourself and the other person. But even distance is no sure-fire cure.

You told a very moving story, Ryan. I'm going to make some assumptions. If it doesn't fit then just discard it and move on. You'll at least know more about me even if I don't know more about you.

Mothers can often be controlling and their weapon of choice is often guilt. And of course, to come to terms with the fact that you're finding it uncomfortable to be around your own mother is rife with opportunities for shame and guilt. "How can I feel this way? She's may own mother, after all?" But you are deserving of love and respect. You are deserving of being treated honestly and kindly. No exceptions. Uh uh. None. Someone being a mother does not give them the right to be nasty, manipulative, or controlling. Knowing that they do so out of fear and a lack of a self-esteem can certainly help ease the pain. And it's the way we can get past resentment and to compassion�which we eventually must do. But all in good time. It's likely that we first need to come to terms with the fact that we aren't rotten people for being the one to say that the emperor has no clothes, to acknowledge openly (if only to ourselves) that a certain parent has been (and perhaps still is) insulting, nasty, rude, judgmental, manipulative or whatever. Insert your own adjective, but surely something applies.

You seem to have forgiveness on your mind, and that surely seems like a good sign. Whatever your story is, just remember that it's okay to call a spade a spade. You have a right to your own mind. But whatever you do in regards to your family situation, I suggest you give complete and total love, respect, and confidence to your wife. Do NOT let her sort of be the odd man out. Do NOT let a parent screw up a relationship by their stuff getting in between you and your wife. If that's going on at all, or has ever gone on, then you are probably right to trust your instinct to put some distance between yourself and your mother. Protect the gold of your married relationship first and foremost. Do let your wife know of all your thoughts and concerns. And make her a true partner and loving ally in all this. Be on the same page.

Anyway, lots of guessing and bad advice for sure on my end, Ryan. But you sound like a wonderful guy. Trust that. Trust that goodness.

quote:

When spirit becomes flesh, the spirit is self-emptying or pouring out on that flesh, in that flesh, through that flesh. And when that flesh receives spirit it is humbled, brought to the brink of mortal death, indeed brought to a kind of death. In the ecstasy of love, the flesh is purified, emptied of its fleshy addictions, released from desire. And from the exchange, a new union of body and spirit is born, born from above. And what is the new body, spirit to do? Love God, love humanity, flesh and all, give thanks, die.

Okay, now we've got two Thomas Mertons. But no kidding, I think that's very good, Ryan.

Hi Ryan,
Am so thankful for your open heart in giving by your sharing.

The following quote of yours touched me deeply, among some others:

I'm her flesh and blood, her fistborn son. Many of my life skills come directly from her modeling and training. I think that we are connected invisibly in such a way that my loving acts toward others honor her.
-------------------------------------------------

What love, honor and admiration for your mother are expressed in these words. Yes, the two of you have a much deeper connection than just in the flesh and blood; there is also spirit and soul. I still belief that sending her a card now and than to tell her of your love and that you are thinking of her may open a door for both of you. It is worth a try. Of course for true love sharing, you must then tell her also of the pain felt by the insensitivity in her words toward you in the restaurant. You must be brave to confront her and not shove it or leave your feelings unacknowledged. Hopefully the right time and place will come for the both of you.

I agree with Brad to discuss everything with your wife, trust her judgment including your own, and pray for a healing re-connecting as a family.

My best to you in all your endeavors. God bless you.

Brad thank you

Yes, I think forgiveness is a splendid idea, Freebird�as is sending a card. But not knowing the situation, I don't know whether or not this is a panacea even if, in theory (especially in Christian theory) it is the right thing to do. One can forgive another in one's own heart. And I think that is a highly valuable thing to work toward, but forgiveness and love are not always reciprocated. Every episode of life does not necessarily turn out like the ending of an episode of "Touched by an Angel." Sometimes we have to live with open wounds even if we take the bravest and most loving of steps to repair them. And (again, not knowing the situation), we need to be mindful of not taking responsibility for someone else's feelings and emotions and having our forgiveness and loving acts become side-tracked and diluted by codependency issues.

My own mother very much fits this category. It is my Christian duty, so to speak, to be kind to her�and actually, to be kind to everyone. But if we think by being kind and loving that we will heal all wounds in the other then we might be disappointed and be disillusioned about love itself. Agree with it or not, I find this passage by Merton to be instructive:

quote:

It is not enough for love to be shared: it must be shared freely. That is to say it must be given, not merely taken. Unselfish love that is poured out upon a selfish object does not bring perfect happiness: not because love requires a return or a reward for loving, but because it rests in the happiness of the beloved. And if the one loved receives love selfishly, the lover is not satisfied. He sees that his love has failed to make the beloved happy. It has not awakened his capacity for unselfish love.

Hence the paradox that unselfish love cannot rest perfectly except in a love that is perfectly reciprocated: because it knows that the only true peace is found in selfless love. Selfless love consents to be loved selflessly for the sake of the beloved. In so doing, it perfect itself.

The gift of love is the gift of the power and the capacity to love, and, therefore, to give love with full effect is also to receive it. So, love can only be kept by being given away, and it can only be given perfectly when it is also received.

Go ahead and forgive. And by all means love. And because of the way you worded your situation, Ryan, something tells me you already know this. Perhaps that is why you mention your very wise thought of honoring your mother by being good to other people. Perhaps you sense that you need your unselfish love to be accepted and returned and that perhaps your mother is just not capable of this quite yet. And to try to make her capable of this (which isn't your job), you would likely tear yourself apart trying to do so, trying to play god, so to speak, which my older brother wisely reminds me from time to time that we mustn't do. We must allow God to be God to other people. We're not God.

quote:

Sometimes we have to live with open wounds even if we take the bravest and most loving of steps to repair them.

If I may be so bold, I would suggest that sometimes it is indeed necessary to have open wounds in order to be of use to others who have open wounds. It is a most tender and bittersweet thing to be able to relate to another in this context.

Blessings,
Terri

I don't have much time right now to share what I'd like. Just briefly, though, I'm finally facing difficult relationships. I could not do what I'm doing now without reading and following the principles laid out in a book called "Boundaries", by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. It has been a godsend. Prior to Lent, I kept wondering what God would have me give up. I prayed for clarity. Nothing seemed right or clear up until I realized that a class I had already signed up for was starting on Ash Wednesday. I soon realized it is my unhealthy patterns of behavior that I am to give up. This book is invaluable to me. My heart is overjoyed that I don't have to live the way I was taught. Thank you all for sharing your experiences. It is also helping to support me in moving forward. Bless you all! It's a busy week. I hope to share more later.

Love,
Tate

If I may be so bold,

Yes, you are (just this one time) going to be permitted to be so bold. But that�s all now for the month of April, Terri. That�s your quota. Back to the meek you go. You�re going to inherit the whole earth so let�s not hear any bickering about this.

Perhaps there are three stages to open wounds:

1) We share our complaints about similar wounds with each other (aka "bitching endlessly about them") and thus find an initial reason to join together with another. (We recognize that the other can be a means to heal our own wounds.)
2) We step back from our own wounds and see the other�s wounds as purely the other�s wounds. (We recognize that the other is more than just a means to heal our own wounds.)
3) We try to help heal the other�s wounds whether our own wounds are open or closed. (We recognize a duty to help the other to heal his or her wounds.)

And Terri recognizes a #4:

4) Our wounds may stay open in order to act as a catalyst for the healing of others.

It probably goes without saying, eh, that there�s a good, better, and best way to live with open wounds? Martyr complex might be on the low end of the scale while sharing stories, thoughts, advice and impressions with others is in the middle, and just being there to hold the pain of the other in loving awareness is towards the high end of the scale?

Brad, excellent advice and observations, which is second by Terri

Merton's quote:

Unselfish love that is poured out upon a selfish object does not bring perfect happiness: not because it rests in the happiness of the beloved. And if the one loved receives love selfishly, the lover is not satisfied. He sees that his love has failed to make the beloved happy. It has not awakened his capacity for unselfish love.
---------------------------------------------

Merton's quote, albeit very wise, is not binding nor absolute in every given love between a lover and the beloved. It depends upon a condition of reciprocity, a dependence upon the other to be capable of giving and sharing this love freely.

God tells us: "Love one another as I have loved you". God is telling us to love, period. There are no strings attached within His love for us. It is absolutely unconditional, and His desire is for us to love one another in such a way.

To expect love to be always reciprocated and shared as mentioned, is a fantasy, and to be incapable of loving freely unless the other shares this joy and happiness is also untrue. For me love does not depend upon the other's feeling of love for me. This was not always true for me, but now I am capable of this unselfish act of loving another without a return for me. This level of total forgiveness and love for another does not just happen overnight. It is a long suffering of sweet repose in the wounds of rejection inflicted by another that had lingered until the healing salve of love and the forgiveness for myself became the healer. An injection of God's supernatural graces made me see through eyes that could finally see without any clouding at all.

We are all imperfect human beings who bear the seed of God's love and forgiveness within. When this seed sprouts a seedling reaches upwards toward the sun. There is nothing but love and forgiveness within the rays of the sunlight. You have awakened to a new reality of life. In the arms of our Creator there is only this love and forgiveness within His sacred heart. You then realize that you are incapable of changing another, nor do you truly know and understand the reasons, motives, and fears that haunt the beloved and prevent them from returning your love. You stop analyzing and trying to find answers as to the why and how, and you totally surrender into the pure goodness of the Lord trusting that love is our true being denying the illusions of any separation from His source. If God's love is unconditional, why should I put conditions upon my love for another and my withholding of true forgiveness. God hates the things that we do which go against His divine laws of righteousness, but His love for us is endless, merciful and always forgiving.

I am not encouraging here a dysfunctional or co-dependent relationship with anyone. Sometimes distance, separation, or a closure with another is the answer, but we can still love and forgive them without having received their love and forgiveness. I have had no contact with my youngest son for eight years. It was something that needed to be done for both of us. There are no tears, no torturing thoughts filling my mind and heart, only my love and true forgiveness for him. He is in my prayers and daily I send him light and love. I am not desirous of a future reunion with him, which may or may not happen, but I am totally at peace with myself and do love him deeply even though it is long distance. Who are we to judge another in their lack and incapability of giving to us and sharing a love between us. If every one would depend upon love's return in a sharing love relationship, little love would circulate and embrace us as a humanity.

When we can love and forgive freely by giving our love away without any expectations of receiving something in return, the gates of heaven open from above and unbelievable gifts and treasures flow into us filling us with a freedom and joy which surpasses all understanding. I am not responsible for the actions, thoughts, deeds, etc. of another, but I certainly can choose what I will do with my love and forgiveness. I freely give it away, and it flows embracing everyone.

quote:

Boundaries", by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend

One of my open wounds (great concept, Terri) is a great and ever-present fear and shame. Maybe that is supposed to stay open for a reason. I don�t know. But it seems inevitable and essential that sooner or later, by hook or by crook, we run into the realization, so perfectly expressed by Tate, that "�I don't have to live the way I was taught."

I think Jung calls the process "individuation". We might think of it as maturity or finally owning our own lives. We might think of it as moving away from the false self toward our true self, or as communing with our inner self which does not wear all these strange outward masks. But at some point our emotional and spiritual birds will fly the nest or are going to wake up and want to fly the nest, often decades past when we physically did so when we were 19, 20, 21, and moved out of the house.

And this process can take time and it isn�t very easy. But Stage One is waking up and realizing that "Hey, all that garbage is not really my garbage. That�s someone else�s garbage implanted into me." Stage two may be accepting that, indeed, we�ve lived with that garbage for so long now that is now ours to some extent. We�re simply living the same unconscious process that led to our parents having this same garbage and passing it on. And it is likely we have done so as well. Stage 3 may be putting a stop to this cycle and reclaiming ourselves by first taking responsibility for our part in spreading this garbage. Victimhood buys no relief in this world from our troubles. But as soon as we take responsibility for our own part in spreading this garbage, we begin to take ourselves seriously as real, live, separate human beings who needn�t be little more than programmed garbage distributors. We can chart our own course. We can listen to our own guiding light. Indeed, we perhaps discover for the first time that we even have a guiding light for it is easy to doubt this. We can become so swamped and overwhelmed by the garbage of others that we can come to believe that we are garbage and thus have no light to shine.

One of my waking up books was John Bradshaw�s Healing the Shame That Binds You and his Bradshaw On: The Family. Such "anthropology" of our own lives is good; that is, it is good to look at our lives as an unsolved mystery or as a who-done-it. It helps to learn what was done and why. But if we stop there we will have not only gone nowhere, we will likely regress, for if we stay in the mindset that our lives are formulas or problems to be "figured out", as if finding the right combination of strategies is the key to fixing us, then we will further ensconce ourselves into a cause-and-effect way of looking at our lives. We will not regain power. We will simply remain the same ping pong ball that we have always been, somewhat subject to the vagaries of others. That is what we remain if we have it in our mind to simply look to be pinged in the right direction by certain new methods or techniques and thus to escape the hurtful ponging that was so often applied by others.

I think there�s a threshold we have to cross (or at least to have in mind as we work through this stuff). And that threshold is moving out of the whole controlling cause-and-effect paradigm and moving into, for lack of a better term, a "heart" paradigm, a paradigm where what is measured as good is perhaps completely changed from how we used to think, where the goals that we used to have are now seen as unimportant or at least as goals that need to be approached from a totally different perspective. I think that until and unless we make some real paradigmatic leaps, we�re likely to stay exactly on the same railroad tracks of life that we are on now but with the idea that we simply need to upgrade our engines or to trade our handcar up to a diesel-electric locomotive. But by doing so we simply stay in the same rut. Following the theme of paradox, perhaps we have to get un-tracked in order to get back on track.

Brad wrote: "Such "anthropology" of our own lives is good; that is, it is good to look at our lives as an unsolved mystery or as a who-done-it. It helps to learn what was done and why. But if we stop there we will have not only gone nowhere"

Hi All,

Interesting words Brad, I've done some anthropology of my own life, specifically, tracing a thread of, in my vision of it, lightning-like pain that goes back from my mother to her father (who died when he was about my age, and I was four, and the extended family had gathered for Christmas).

I interviewed my mother about her life growing up. She wasn't into revealing her wounds directly (thus perhaps my need to see them in vision). She told about her family, when she was teenaged, leaving the Old Order Amish, about traveling evangelists, and about Pennsylvania Dutch folk medicine. I picked up on the themes. I interviewed her father's brother, Eli, an Old Order Amish preacher on the folk medicine theme and wrote a paper on it that I presented at a scholarly forum. Eli also told me about his our ancestor, one Jonas Stutsman, who in response to visions in rapture wrote tracts about the millennium. I followed that thread and three times had articles published in scholarly Mennonite publications about "the man who wore all white and built a chair for Jesus." And I had my own rapture.

The theme of traveling evangelists came up in a way that blind-sided me. A somewhat famous Mennonite evangelist approached mom a few years ago to tell her that he had met someone from her childhood, one Marilyn McCord. McCord had told him that she had gone to one of his evangelistic meetings during her teen village atheist days and that she found his message so engaging, she had talked for some three hours with Augsburger afterward. Responding to his influence and others, she since became a Christian. And she told Augsburger that the person who invited her to that meeting was her friend at the time, Martha Ann (my mother).

My father, with mom present told me about the incident and said that McCord had become a scholar. We did a web search and she was indeed a scholar: see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marilyn_McCord_Adams

And that philosopher, theologian, priest was indeed a friend of my mothers in a little school of 100 students in Arthur, Illinois where her mother was the English teacher. "We were both misfits," my mother explained, "me because I was Amish and she because she was smarter than the teachers."

Here is the kicker that I realized only later. Years earlier, when I was looking for a master's thesis topic I had happened to hear a speech on the portrait of wonder-workers in Luke-Acts and that speech set the stage for the thesis I wrote. The person who gave the speech was Marilyn McCord Adams and it is the only thing she, to my knowledge, ever published in the field of biblical studies. Most of her work is in historical philosophical theology in the Franciscan stream (where �suffering love� becomes central to Christology and the solution to the problem of evil).

There must have been some invisible cause-effect there. Why did I like her speech so much, this woman I only saw once? Moreover, since writing the thesis, I became deeply drawn to the Franciscan stream of theology and I also consider myself a sort of amateur philosopher. I studied Franciscan theology at Washington Theological Union, and was doing so at the time what I learned about my mother witnessing for Christ to the village atheist who became a leading philosopher theologian.

Brad, You wrote:

"I think there�s a threshold we have to cross (or at least to have in mind as we work through this stuff). And that threshold is moving out of the whole controlling cause-and-effect paradigm and moving into, for lack of a better term, a "heart" paradigm, a paradigm where what is measured as good is perhaps completely changed from how we used to think, where the goals that we used to have are now seen as unimportant or at least as goals that need to be approached from a totally different perspective."

Well put. When I was doing all that anthropology of my family I was consciously and unconsciously seeking individuation from my mother, and seeking a path of the heart. And, one thing I'm clear about is that things are not what they seem on the surface.

I tried for years to show love to my mother directly. It didn't seem to help her, but in some ways it helped me. She helped me be self-critical and intellectually sharp.

By the way, yesterday I browsed some of your past post and read, for the first time, this little gem:

"I can recommend is Henri Nouwen�s 111-page Can You Drink the Cup?. This little tome could be best summed up by saying it is about finding joy in suffering, as sado-masochistic and rubber-suitish as that may sound. But Henri makes a quite compelling case."

On some level, my mother�s use of the sado-masochistic reference was to alert me to another side of the path that I've chosen, to warn me that my motives might not be all pure. I think she didn't apologize because she thinks she was showing me a plausible critique of my point of view. She likes argument. When I lived at home, we argued a lot. We agreed on most things, intellectually.

My dad looks back on those days with fondness. He wishes my mother and I could get back into intellectual conversations again.

This post is long enough, I think, so even though I have not come to a climactic conclusion, I'll let it go at that.

Freebird wrote:

" I have had no contact with my youngest son for eight years. It was something that needed to be done for both of us. There are no tears, no torturing thoughts filling my mind and heart, only my love and true forgiveness for him. He is in my prayers and daily I send him light and love. I am not desirous of a future reunion with him, which may or may not happen, but I am totally at peace with myself and do love him deeply even though it is long distance."

Hi Freebird,

The part of your sharing that dealt with your youngest son struck me as surprising and, seemingly, in contrast to the point of view of the rest of what you wrote. It made me curious about the process that led you both to see "no contact" as something that would be best for both of you.

Yes, I think that�s a good distinction between forgiveness and reconciliation, Phil. Thanks for that insight and clarification.

Hi Ryan and friends sharing our hearts,

Yes, my separation from my youngest son is quite a contrast to all of my love offerings and unconditional forgiveness, and than again, it is not, because in my previous post I did mention that sometimes one must make closure with another. This closure may be only within a period of time or indefinitely depending upon the circumstances and desires of those individuals who have chosen to separate.

After my husband's death in 1996, my youngest son became deeply involved with drugs, he was out of control. This was not new for him before his father's death, but he no longer could handle the habit and was starting to destroy himself including others who loved him. It is a long story which I doubt I need to go into since most people are aware of the devastation addictions can bring to families and loved ones.

He blamed everyone for his problems, and without entering a rehab, he was unable to see that the problems were not caused by others, but that he was ill and had to take responsibility for his state of being and then we could address the "others". He refused to enter a rehab and our relationship suffered beyond any imaginings.
I over and over again extended apologies and asked for forgiveness for real or imagined things I may have done, which he did not accept and struck back with anger, yet never could pinpoint a definite thing I did, which was frustrating to say the least.

One day he called to asked for money, and I refused to give it to him. I confronted him and told him that he was ill, needed help and that I would do all I could should he finally enter a rehab. His response to me was pure venom, the final straw that broke the camel's back. I prayed and prayed until the answer came to let him be, and cut ties with him, and that is exactly what I did.

He entered a rehab, has been in and out of some kind of trouble fluctuating back and forth, but we have had no contact with one another. He is not alone in his struggles having his elder brother and a substitute mother who appears to be more complimentary for his needs, and someone who has no past nor history with him. The latest news I heard is that he is making every effort to live a better life and to abstain from drugs.

I had a bonding with him during his early youth which was severed when he experimented with drugs as a teenager. The child I knew and loved had been captured by drugs, until I could hardly belief his personality was the son I so deeply cared for.

In this particular situation, a separation was needed. I will always keep a door open should he desire to communicate with me. I love him and have forgiven him. Knowing we have done all we can, prayers, love and forgiveness are the only answer and letting go and letting God. Within His love is my peace.

Sounds like you've done everything possible to have a relationship with your son, Freebird. Sometimes there's just nothing one can do to enable a healthy relationship to happen, and how much more painful that is when it's your child. I get along great with mine, but I can imagine how difficult it would be if one shut me out because of some addiction. I've seen it happen to one of my brothers, who's only now drawing close to the family again, after over 20 years. But praying for another is indeed a way of maintaining a loving relationship with them, as is "letting God" coordinate the "next steps." That stance is enormously more freeing than bitterness and resentment.

Freebird,

Thank you for your response to my question.

quote:

Merton's quote, albeit very wise, is not binding nor absolute in every given love between a lover and the beloved. It depends upon a condition of reciprocity, a dependence upon the other to be capable of giving and sharing this love freely.

God tells us: "Love one another as I have loved you". God is telling us to love, period. There are no strings attached within His love for us. It is absolutely unconditional, and His desire is for us to love one another in such a way.

I think those are some very good distinctions, Freebird, and I was a little bit less than gung-ho about that Merton quote. But I liked it because I think it's a healthy reminder that we are only human, not god. And although I agree with you completely about "love, period", I think Merton's quote is a helpful cautionary tale (or that's how I interpret it) that while on the spiritual trail we should be careful of becoming too extreme before our time. For example, although I recognize the morality of "love, period," and I've set it as my goal, I think that until I've achieved a deeper maturity that "love, period" could have me bottling up and denying some emotions, emotions such as anger, revulsion, dislike, etc. If in my drive to "love, period" I might steamroller over these real emotions and thus deny and lose myself. If I'm actually angry at someone and think they're a real S.O.B. but I stick on a tight-fitting "loving" mask, it's easy to get screwed up that way and for one's "love, period" to not be a particularly healthy form of love. I'm better off in many circumstances just biting my tongue and staying silent if I'm not feeling particularly loving. I'm a "people-pleaser" so I know the hazards! I just wanted to state this side of things even though I agree that "love, period" is ultimately the way to go and that we ought to find far more reasons and excuses to do so rather than to hold back and do less.

I hope you are able to patch things up with your son.

That's a very interesting story about Marilyn McCord, Ryan. Thanks for sharing that.

My dad looks back on those days with fondness. He wishes my mother and I could get back into intellectual conversations again.

Hmmm�I do believe I know a thing or two about arguing families. But few, if any, of the arguments were intellectual. I know now that 90% of those arguments (at least the ones with the parents) were not about the actual matters at hand. They were about issues in their background, issues that I had no knowledge of. And this is why so much of what they had to say made so little sense to me and why so much of it was of a much higher emotional volume than the matters at hand warranted. For me it was an onslaught of focused and manipulative non-sequitur which had the effect, I guess, of making me a particularly sharp debater because when one is given little chance to talk, if one isn't really listened to anyway, and if reasoning isn't really the point of the discussion, and if one wants to attempt to pierce the wall of non-sequitur, then one is tempted to try to compensate with quality of content what one can not make up for in any other way. I could not scream louder. I did not have the power to force anyone to listen.

Off the top of my head, Ryan, I would say that you are ready to move beyond just returning to the "same old, same old" of having intellectual conversations with your mother. Your father might see this as getting back to normal, but something tells me that "normal" wasn't particularly healthy for all concerned. It sounds to me like you know there is more to life than sheltering our deepest feelings and desires behind such masks as "intellectual conversations." Mothers and sons hug each other and talk about their lives, their hopes, their dreams, their foibles, and their memories. Intellectual conversations are for Harvard students and internet forum junkies. I for the life of me don't know how to start a new relationship with my mother that comes out from under all the masks, from all the unstated agreements of what to talk about and what to not talk about. And frankly, I'm not sure I want to. I hate playing that game. And she seems entrenched in her current behavior. It will likely take a real superman or superwoman to burrow past all the relationship B.S. and get to the real.

It's very common for people, no matter how different they are around their spouse, kids, and friends, to revert to the same relationship dynamic that one has always had with their parents. And parents tend to do the same. Even Jesus somewhat acknowledged this, I think, when he says "A prophet is not without honor, except in his own fatherland, and in his own house." We may be able to "get real" and to be accepted at face value by everyone else in the world except those who we grew up with such as our parents. They still see us and relate to us as someone else, not as the person who is standing right in front of them. And although we don't mind a few disagreements with our parents. Heck, we might not even mind their gentle nagging and advice-giving. It can make us feel comforted and protected again. But there is no better way to harm a person and to drive them away then to treat them as if they were not there, as if they were a mere ghost, as if they didn't count. And I suspect that this is where much of the problem usually lies. People have stopped listening to the real person. Parents especially perhaps hear and expect only accusation from their children and children perhaps hear and expect only criticism from the parents. So conversations may not be light and flowing. They are highly-charged minefields which one attempts to tippy-toe through without setting off any bombs.

Parents who have made mistakes know they have made mistakes and their guilt can cause them to be defensive, even as their children desire to open and come back to them and forget the past. Or it might be the reverse. But to renew a relationship means first of all to want to renew a relationship, and the sad fact is that for many of us the time for being "chummy" with our parents might be gone forever. We might learn to tolerate each other and to be civil, but there is no law that says we have to like someone. But if we did want to renew broken bonds it would take enormous courage and discipline. One would have to be authentic and to say (within reasonable propriety) what is on one's mind and to be real. And one would have to stay conscious of not regressing and falling into old parent/child roles. And this is difficult. But it takes two to tango. If this is difficult for one to do it is even more so for two people to do so at the same time. Perhaps it's no wonder that only very serious events (like fatal or near-fatal injuries or illnesses) can bring people together and break the wall of emotional separation.