Two Sides of Every Story - Two Sides of Me

I often refer to my community.  The group of people that share in my day to day.  It could be friends with whom I share a meal with mid-week, work with, discuss faith and life with or a late night IM conversation when both of us should be sleeping. 

Recently, I have been contemplating my role in my community.  Yes to love, support, admonish, comfort are all on the list.  Celebrate with those who feel like celebrating and crying with those who feel like crying.  I have also been contemplating what I think the community’s responsibility is to me.  It is good to review your expectations from to time to time.  Personally, this helps me to keep my relationships in check.  Am I expecting more than what they were offering?  Is my expectation realistic?  Is it founded out a sense of need?  If it is unspoken expectation - why has it not been voiced in the past? 

In doing that I realize that I have another responsibility to my community. 

I have the responsibility to be open and vulnerable with this group of dear people.  This morning at FCCH Mike mentioned that your community (small group, accountability group, etc) should know enough about you that they could sink you.  In other words, you should be so vulnerable and open with your life that if what they knew about was revealed …..it would destroy you.  Clearly …this type of vulnerability is not for all people in your life.  In fact wisdom would dictate that this level of honesty is not for most people in your life. 

Often I think that in an effort to ensure I make wise choices in whom I place my trust …that I am too safe.  I talk about the safe issues that everyone deals with.  But how often do I really share the depths of what I really feel or really think?  I think I give the headlines or the fb status version to most people.  If asked …I may share more but often i stop short of sharing anything that would truly be considered vulnerable. 

But I expect my community to support and love me.  How can they truly do that if they are not seeing an authentic version of me?  Most that know me would say that I’m a straight shooter …I can be blunt, sometimes too blunt.  However, I also crave that in my own life.  In theory, I want people to be that blunt with me.  Except in reality - the reason I don’t share as much as I could is that I think I fear that feedback.  Do I fear that they will reflect back to me an even harsher perspective than what I put on myself?  Perhaps.  Do I fear that my community will no longer accept or embrace me?  Perhaps.  Does it seem absurd to question people that welcome me into their homes and lives?  Perhaps.  Yet I want to always be questioning my motivations, my fears, desires, etc.  I guess in my mind this process helps me to grow as a person refining my character as I go. 

Steps forward….choose to risk. 

We all in one sense or another build up an image of ourselves that we project to the world. Sometimes that image is who we want to be, who we think others want us to be, or even perhaps who we think we should be. When we project an image of ourselves that does not match who we really are, it may cause a tension when others relate to us merely on this projection. The experience of allowing our projection to reflect who we really are can be a difficult experience. A process that requires humility, patience and grace. Helped along with a measure of articulation to explain what is needed from your surrounding community to help you along this journey. I am faced with a battle…battle of projected self versus the real self. Who wins out? Where does character and humility play a role? How important is the role of others? What is the individual’s responsibility? Just some late night ramblings from a wandering mind.

     There are different types of seasons. I’m not talking about weather related changes - though summer is right around the corner. Historically, the month of June has just been an emotional season for me. I specifically wrestle with the emotion of grief and have a heightened sense of loss during this time. Yet I also simultaneously experience a heightened sense of joy and celebration. (Seriously its never just one thing with me).

     The grief originates with two events. My father died on June 10, 1998. Its been many years and I have processed much of the grief associated with his death. However, I do tend to do a lot of self examination during this time period. What would my father think? What would he say of my lifestyle? Of who I have become? Its easy to brush off these questions and say that of course my father would be proud and of course he would love me…..but yet I still need to process what I really think along with my underlying fears in relation to these questions and answers as well as ask the question of why I still measure myself against my father’s standards. On one hand this process if not guarded carefully can lead to an unhealthy place of self doubt and criticism. Yet done within reason, this process can lead to reflecting on how I have changed and matured in the past 12 years.

     The second event that used to contribute to this season were graduations. When I worked with youth, June was a crazy season. Every weekend stocked full of graduations and celebrations. Graduations marking the end of one phase and a new beginning right around the corner. Its hard to explain and perhaps can not be fully understood unless one has worked with youth in such a way. You spend time with, invest and pray to all that is holy that these adolescents will mature into adults who are not only productive members of society but also have a solid grasp on who they are and what they are called to do in this world. Graduations marked and celebrated the end of my relationship with them as a voice of reason, mentor and opportunity for regular face time with them to hopefully influence them along their way. Logically I knew that the relationships continued even though how they were experienced were changed. Believe me, I celebrated each and every graduate as much as for their accomplishments as for the opportunities that awaited them. Yet, because I process most loss as death (yeah I know its messed up but it is what it is) I still had a rough go at it.

      Fast forward many years later. My father has still passed. I still miss what could have been. I still miss him on significant days such as college graduation, my niece’s bday, Father’s Day, etc. Yet, now I can also experience the joy i knowing that the many years he suffered before he died are over. I can experience the joy in realizing how many people my story has encouraged or comforted through the years. This is not the kind of joy that causes me to jump up and down with excitement. Yet it truly is a joy that is both fulfilling and comforting. The grief used to overshadow the joy. When they say that time heals all wounds I think what they mean is that time helps the grief and joy to balance out. Yes, there is still sadness but yet the strength, comfort and joy outshine the sad moments on most days.

     I no longer work with youth. I don’t think that will always be the case. I took a step back to focus on schooling and such yet my love for youth and desire to encourage them as they navigate the murky waters of adolescence has not waned. However, since stepping away from an official office or role where I am regularly involved …I can see that in some ways the bittersweet experience I had when I watched them fly the coop was not only grief but also joy. I used to feel guilty about secretly feeling sad during the first couple of weeks of June. Yet now I can see that as relationships transition it is normal to process the emotions surrounding those changes. Time heals all wounds in this case for me …means that time has gifted me with perspective. It wasn’t all sadness, I did in fact truly feel proud and joyful of their accomplishments.

     So there it is. While I do experience some sadness from time to time (because after all being human these things are bound to happen from time to time) and I know that hard times will happen in the future (because after all being human still means I can’t control my world as much as I try) and I know in my very core that light is not just up ahead on the horizon but is often in the very midst of grief. Joy is not something that exists in the absence of grief. It is often right there in the midst of our tears. We may not always recognize it …I may not always recognize it …..but it exists all the same.

For the existence of joy I am truly grateful.