A rainy day reflection

We’ve all seen it. When an unexpected (or even an expected) rain shows up in the middle of an active day, people respond in comical ways to the prospect of being negatively impacted by getting wet. It’s an interesting thing to observe, not because of the face value cause-effect, but because of all the little things that lie beneath the surface. It can be stress inducing. But it doesn’t have to be.

Basically, it seems we can correlate our tolerance for getting wet in the rain with our determination or ambition to accomplish things regardless of circumstances. This correlation is not static by any means. There are days when we are more willing than others to endure the discomfort and changes to our physical appearance that result from getting wet. I’m just saying, our reaction to rain reflects so many things going on inside us.

I remember a time when my youngest was a preschooler and we had to go to Target on a rainy day. (This may have been more of a stormy day than just a rainy day.) I had one umbrella and hands full — handbag, shopping bags, and my little boy who held my hand as we ran to and from the store. When it was said and done, his pants and shoes were soaked. “How on earth did you get so wet?” I asked, implying that he should have been drier since we were both under the umbrella. “The rain has a little helper, Mom,” he said, “and its name is wind.”

Indeed, it does.

Recently at work, I was having a conversation about our human nature in reaction to doing difficult or uncomfortable things, particularly doing those things over a sustained period of time. Our purpose was to figure out ways to coach our team through an intense growth spurt. In that conversation, I used the image of a sudden downburst of rain to describe our general resistance to that sort of discomfort and change in circumstances. Most of us do not want to get wet. And we avoid it for myriad reasons, not the least of which is the way it changes our appearance – picture the “drowned rat” we refer to so often. We are far more willing to endure the inconveniences and discomfort of an absolute soaking when we have significant incentives that override the negative feelings about getting wet.

Soaked!

Today, my son and I were downtown having lunch together when the bottom fell out of the sky. The rain wasn’t just heavy, it was torrential. We had no particular reason to hurry and nowhere in particular to go afterward, so we weren’t stressed. And we didn’t have umbrellas. As we left the restaurant to head over to a nearby coffee shop, we passed several folks huddled in the foyer of the restaurant, waiting for the rain to pass. And, on the street, there were various mixtures of folks with umbrellas, makeshift umbrellas, and nothing (like us) to limit our getting wet. While in the coffee shop, it occurred to me that getting wet in the rain is a purely physical experience – a sign of life, if you will – with mental and emotional implications. In other words, the way we perceive getting wet unexpectedly in the rain drives our experience of it entirely. And we can change our perception of things.

It isn’t you, it’s your ego

Very often, the first thing you see in a situation doesn’t define it well. You think you’re dealing with a certain issue, but the real issue is hiding behind the one that shows up first. Maybe several layers behind.

Current example, I have found myself bucking hard against opinions over the last several weeks and months – unsolicited, random opinions in particular. I have become more and more outspoken about my notion that opinions are the lowest form of human communication. Opinions are like body odor to me: we all have them and we should avoid airing them onto others.

Why such contempt for opinions? Well, I thought it’s because I see opinions as nothing more than preferences. Your preference isn’t right or wrong. It’s just a preference. My preference isn’t right or wrong, either. It’s just another opinion. Weighing and reacting to opinions is a royal waste of time. I am highly protective of my life energy, so I avoid spending any mental or physical energy on futile exercises. I recommend the same for you.

But that’s not the whole story either. I’ll dive a LOT deeper than that, so come with me if you can handle it. I say that because getting to the deeper issue will get too personal and likely uncomfortable. It’s actually not personal opinions that I dislike reacting or responding to. It’s the ego hiding behind it. It’s the egocentric expectation that an opinion should somehow change what the recipient thinks, says, or does. It’s the egocentrism that is unable to acknowledge that there are myriad opinions and preferences and there isn’t one correct one. It’s the self-centered attempt to rid the world of anything one person doesn’t like or prefer or appreciate – at least the small sliver of the world that person occupies.

In Christian teaching, the ego is our enemy. The ego represents the false-face we develop and present to the world – our avatar, if you will. Following Jesus *requires* a complete turning away from the self-serving ego in order to follow the way of Love. Where ego seeks to satisfy itself and to defend itself and to grow itself in the view of others, humility seeks the exact opposite. We cannot feed our ego and our faith at the same time. We cannot follow our ego and Christ-in-us at the same time.

So, it’s not your opinion I’m bucking. It’s your ego.

If egocentric opinions are unwanted and unhelpful, then what does a humble opinion look like and is it more desirable? It looks more like constructive feedback. It considers the whole group, not just one person’s preference. It is offered only when requested for the purpose of growth, not thrown out unsolicited like a belch to relieve one’s personal need to release noxious gas. Constructive feedback is just that: constructive. It builds others. It builds communities. Humility is necessary in any community context because humility embraces its own transformation while the ego desperately resists it.

One's Ego Can Only Aggravate This Crisis - La Prensa Latina Media

christianespanosa.com

Our Thresholds

I’ve never experienced an actual “swirly” – you know, when someone holds your head in a toilet while flushing it – but life has lately brought that image to mind and I think I may know how it feels.

Another image has come to my mind during this particular stage of life – one of being stuck in a spin cycle (as in washing machines) that never ends. Do you wait for it to stop spinning and then go about your business? Or has something gone wrong with the machine and will the spin cycle continue until you somehow intervene?  And then, this illustration reminds me of those dark, late nights when I’ve been stopped at a light for a really long time (probably 20 seconds) for absolutely no good reason because no one else is on the road. I know what I do in that scenario, but what do you do? Sit and wait, or get on with it despite the red lights in your face?

If you know me, you know I love theological reflection and making connections to life as it really is. (I add “as it really is” as a nod to my upbringing which paid constant homage to “life as we think it ought to be.”) When my mind begins conjuring images, like the swirly and the spin cycle of my washer, I know it’s time for me to pay attention to the Spirit of God. Something life-giving is happening and God is trying to help me understand it.

liminalspace
from the-liminal-space.com

There is a Latin word, limen, which means “threshold.” From it, comes two terms you probably have encountered before: liminality and liminal space. The concept has been applied to literature, anthropology, psychology, theology and other “‘logies” because it is so rich metaphorically. Basically, liminality and liminal space both take the concept of a threshold and apply it to times of transition, ambiguity and waiting. In theological terms, it becomes a time of growth, learning and spiritual transformation if the person experiencing it embraces the opportunity.

So, what do you do in liminal space? If I make the comparison in my own life to stoplights late at night, then I “bust” through without any regard to legalities in favor of my own comfort and perceived safety. If I compare it to being stuck in a spin cycle, then I apparently stay, hoping and praying that the spinning will stop soon.  I don’t think the swirly comparison applies … that one was probably allowed through just to grab my attention. 🙂 What I can’t ignore in either comparison is the presence of fear.

Fear can either cause us to run impulsively (stoplight) or it can paralyze us (spin cycle.) I suppose for me, this particular liminal space is designed to help me work through some previously unnoticed or unnamed fear.

Today is still early in this year’s season of Lent. If you find yourself in a period of liminality in your own story, I encourage you to embrace this opportunity to pursue the freedom that comes in working together with God to become the man or woman you were created to be. Whether you are wrestling with fear, or an unforgiving spirit, or an unloving attitude, or whatever else, this could be just the space you need to transition to the next phase of your life.

Marking Time

Have you ever heard the phrase, “Hurry up and wait!” It seems as though a lot of our time in this culture is consumed by the “wait” portion of our big hurry. The problem is that we don’t seem to know how to handle the waiting. Common examples that come to mind include traffic issues in our fine little metro or the weekly work ritual of wishing the week away by looking forward to Friday. One of my favorite movie scenes is from “Meet the Parents” when Greg and Jack are trying to beat each other back to the house as they burn and screech their way block by block, traffic light by traffic light back to Jack’s house. Clip from Meet the Parents

We experience a variety of responses to this waiting time: anger, anxiety, confusion, frustration. . . perhaps even discouragement and sadness. It is an exception when we welcome times of waiting as a chance to catch our breath or reflect on what we are experiencing.

Sometimes the waiting times are found in more serious contexts: hurry up and get all these tests done, then wait for a diagnosis; hurry up and get engaged, then wait for the right wedding date; hurry up and get to the airport, then wait to reunite with your loved one. Perhaps if we can learn to engage these times of waiting, we can also learn to live more fully. Reflecting and journaling are great ways to process our thoughts and feelings during times of worry, confusion or frustration. When we fail to process thoughts and feelings, we fail to learn anything or grow from our experiences.

Back in high school, I was in the marching band. I remember marching in parades and how, even when we couldn’t move forward, we had to march in place or “mark time”. My memory of that experience is that it was exhausting. We were working very hard to cover very little ground.

I suspect that happens in our lives often. We use up vital energy during our times of waiting by marching in place rather than being still and reflecting on our experience and listening to God’s voice. Here’s a challenge for the coming week: When faced with a hurry-up-and-wait scenario, take an “at-ease” posture instead of marking time and engage the waiting time. Let me know what you experience!