Reflection on 2011

Well, 2011 has passed and the new year is well underway. Once again I'm late to remember backwards, but perhaps it's because I'm so busy dreaming forward. Ahhh well.

A little over a month ago my inbox was flooded with promotional emails from various companies that want to facilitate new years resolutions to get fit, lose weight, and become a better me. For a number of reasons I'm not one to set new year's resolutions, but I do appreciate the opportunity to reflect on what's happened, how I want things to change, and dream about what's to come.

Here are just a few highlights from 2011:

1. Finished year two of graduate school. Another year under my belt means another year closer to new adventures. I'm in no big hurry to rush through this program, but I'm grateful to have accomplished this much. Even though there is much left temporally (largely due to a year-long practicum requirement), I'm nearing the end of my coursework. Getting there!
2. Became published. Since June of 2010 I've been researching and writing with a professor here. We co-authored a paper together, and it was accepted by an academic journal late last spring. The entire experience of working on this paper (and working on another that's currently in progress) has challenged me toward greater differentiation. I've become aware of my insecurities around my academic competence and have learned to affirm myself in this area. Both academically and personally, I've grown from this work.
3. Ran my second marathon. Team Ortho did a great job hosting the Minneapolis Marathon on June 4th. It was fun to run the city I've come to love so much. Training was a bit more difficult with a couple of injuries and an unusually long winter, but I managed to shave 3 minutes off my time from Grandma's Marathon in 2009 for a time of 3:54. I just recently began gearing up for the Fargo Marathon in May. Spring is near!
4. Did not participate in my own diminishment. There were a few pretty difficult experiences in 2011 that I would have liked to avoid, but they stretched and challenged me to let my voice be heard about issues of injustice. I'm grateful for colleagues, mentors, and friends who encouraged me to not participate in the diminishment of myself by lovingly and actively seeking justice. They've laughed and cried with me around these experiences, and I'm deeply moved by their presence in my life.
5. Became aware of and changed my engagement with unhealthy patterns and systems. Systems strive for equilibrium, and many achieve it. But a functioning system is not synonymous with a healthy one. I've long been able to notice unhealthy systems, but I've been less keen on identifying the ways in which I participate in them. In 2011 I became more aware of the ways I contribute to unhealthy patterns and systems - whether actively or passively - and I committed to change. I've worked hard to be cognizant of habitual responses that serve to reduce anxiety but inhibit growth. I've not mastered this, but I'm learning and growing and am committed to continuing this work.
6. Made some significant changes in how I eat. For ethical, theological, and nutritious reasons we've switched things up a bit: we buy local and organic as much as possible, became members at our local co-op, don't buy anything with high-fructose corn syrup or hydrogenated oils, eat very few refined carbohydrates, eat plenty of good fats (yes, even saturated if they're the right kind!), and don't buy anything low-fat or fat-free...just to name a few. Check out a couple of our favorite (and accessible) resources for a snippet of reasoning behind the madness...
1. Gary Taubes' Why We Get Fat: And What to do About it (book)
2. Food, Inc. (documentary)
7. Got a new job. Same office, new position. I've learned a lot about myself since stepping into a position of leadership 6 months ago. I continue to learn....oh, how I continue to learn...and I'm deeply grateful for the opportunity.

Much of what I've shared seems positive, but there are also some painful stories that led me to these reflections. The pain and the joy...it's all a holy mix. 2011 was a year of growth. More than ever I've assumed responsibility for my own well-being and have chased after the best possible version of me. I'm thrilled with how the year wrapped up, how 2012 has begun, and for where I'm headed. 

It was a good and fulfilling year. That's all I can really ask for. 

Difference

Encountering and handling difference is hard work. It requires that we become aware of our own dispositions, acknowledge those of another, and somehow do something with the gap that stands between. Too often this results in tension, division, and segregation of persons and various people groups. At times this is glossed over by paying lip service to "respecting differences," but in practice we continue to keep those who are different at arm's length and huddle and cuddle with those who are like-minded. We do little to truly value the differences in others and instead allow the differences be the very things that divide us, even as we're polite about that division. Other times we're less polite and begin dehumanizing one other, becoming hostile and contentious.

What do we do with this mess?

I have numerous friends, family members, co-workers, and acquaintances whose theological, political, and social positions and values are different than mine. It's important that I (and we) find ways to be in meaningful relationship with one another - not despite our differences, but instead learning to appreciate them. Engaging difference is no small task, but it's important work that cannot be ignored. 

Today I'm feeling discouraged by the ways some people in my life are responding to how I am different. It's  easier for me to deal with the differences in others. Knowing how to respond when someone attacks the differences in me is considerably more challenging. 

Difference pushes us to grow. It pushes us to reconcile. It pushes us to hang on to ourselves when our immediate instinct is to crumble. Today I am working on staying grounded and remaining differentiated as I sort through the emotions of feeling attacked. As I think about the concept of difference more broadly, I will remember that my perspective is unique. Like I cannot truly understand the world view of another, I must remember that nobody sees the world exactly as I do. This is both humbling and encouraging. 

There is grace to be offered both as we seek to love those who are different than us, and as we ourselves  are criticized for being different. Let our engaging in difference be grace- and love-filled.

Rules for Interaction

I'm a student in a marriage and family therapy program that focuses on the self of the therapist. One of the primary thrusts of the program is differentiation of self. Over and over again we are invited to look at and attend to issues within ourselves, know ourselves, and grow as whole persons so that we might better serve our clients. I think it's brilliant.

These are the guidelines we follow in all of our course interactions:

·         Keep breathing and stay in the room.

·         Presume welcome and extend welcome.  Make a place for yourself and others in the conversation – in informal interaction, in small group discussion, and in large group interaction.

·         Refrain from fixing, saving, or setting straight others in the class.

·         When the interaction gets tricky, turn to inquiry rather than advocacy (wonder about something instead of defending something).  Pay attention to the distinction between dialogue (which begins with a question) and debate (which begins with an answer). Make sure your questions are real questions, not ones intended to make a point, demonstrate prior knowledge, or communicate a hidden agenda. 

·         Speak for yourself and own responsibility for your statements.

·         Think of silence as another member of the class.

·         Observe confidentiality, especially regarding material shared by other students.

How would the world look if we all committed to interacting with one another along these guidelines?

TMI? Nah...

Today is day 1 of charting my fertility signs using the fertility awareness method (FAM). Yes!

After nearly four years of preventing pregnancy with oral contraceptives, we're making a change that we hope is for the better. No, we're not trying to conceive. We're not there yet. Rather, we're trying to make decisions about how we live that are congruent with what we believe and profess. Our reasons for making this change are both health-related and theological, and we could not be more excited.

I'm thankful for this book, many supportive friends, and a fabulous women's health nurse practitioner in learning this approach to birth control and gynecological health. I look forward to learning all that I will!

Life is short. We ought not waste a day.

Today I'm reminded of the significance of this life. It can be so easily swept out from underneath us without warning. Last night a classmate from my growing up years lost a sudden and difficult battle with pneumonia. Pneumonia. It wasn't cancer. It wasn't a slow and predictable death, and the diagnosis shouldn't have warranted such a severe outcome. It was quick. It was unassuming. There was little time to respond as she quickly became progressively more ill. Despite doing whatever they could to keep this mid-20's woman alive, she passed away.

I hadn't seen Heidi in a few years, but my memories of her are fresh. I will remember her as a gentle and joy-filled person whose faith was unwavering. Her deepest commitment was to her Creator, and the image I see of her meeting her God is one that moves me to tears. I was recently at a funeral for a family member of my husband, Grandpa Joe. One man told a story of Joe's being elated when he learned of a friend's passing, excitedly responding with, "Good for him!" Today I'm overwhelmed with joy for Heidi as she looks into the face of God, but my heart is full of sorrow for her parents who are now without child, her extended family with whom she was so close, and her friends who walked with her through life and helped shape the person she became. What a significant loss for each one of these people. 

So much pales in significance compared to the meaning found in a life lost. Today I'm challenged to live a life worth remembering, to embrace today fully, and to be grateful for all that I've been given. It's cliche to say that life is short and that we ought not waste a day, but it truly is too short and we really ought not waste a day. Whether we live to be 2 days or 100 years, we're given but a brief moment of time, and each of those moments is pregnant with meaning and significance. How will we use the time we are given? 

Today I'm finding comfort in the arms of my God as I wrestle with this sudden and unexpected loss, but  I also choose joy and gratefulness. Heidi's story reminds me to be thankful for this life and the opportunities it brings. As long as my heart beats, I aim to live fully. May today be significant and meaningful in whatever ways it can be. 

We'll miss you, dear Heidi. Thank you for who you were and the ways you will live on in each of us. 

Vengeance and Retribution: Antonyms to Justice

“Continuing a cycle of violence through state-sanctioned actions does not bring justice but only creates a culture of death and retribution. As a pro-life Christian, I believe the execution of Troy Davis shows a failure of moral leadership by both our country and the state of Georgia. The doubt surrounding the case of Troy Davis has served as a wake-up call to many in this country that our justice system is flawed and should not hold the power of life and death over any person. Justice should restore and heal, not destroy.” — Sojourners CEO Jim Wallis 

I hurt for Troy Davis. I hurt for his family and friends. I don't know whether he was guilty or innocent, and I have no intentions to argue either way...that's not my place. What I am convinced of, however, is that our judicial system served him, and all others who have been executed by the state, an injustice.


In her November 5, 2008 open letter to President-elect Barack Obama, Alice Walker urged him not to take on other people's enemies: "Most damage that others do to us is out of fear, humiliation and pain. Those feelings occur in all of us, not just in those of us who profess a certain religious or racial devotion. We must learn actually not to have enemies, but only confused adversaries who are ourselves in disguise."

What if we began viewing the convicted in this way? What if we began to see, and treat, those who are convicted of such horrific crimes as murder as fearful, humiliated, and pain-stricken? What if we began to see those things in ourselves? Perhaps our compassion for them would deepen. Perhaps we could get over retributive "justice" and want healing and wholeness for them.

Capital punishment lacks hope. It is a way for the state and others to say to the convicted, "You are not human to us. We give up on you. You deserve this." This is not justice. Vengeance is not justice. Retribution is not justice. To think of justice in this way is elementary and avoidant. To inject a lethal cocktail into another human being and call that just is to strip that person if his or her humanity and worth. Ironically, victims often make the same claims about the convicted. How is capital punishment any more righteous?

Justice needs to be far more complex than that, and to maintain the worth, dignity, and humanity of all it needs to encompass a mature form of hope. Imagine a world where convicted persons entered therapy and began working on themselves. Imagine a world where convicted persons were understood as fearful, humiliated, and pain-stricken. Imagine a world where they were given the space to hope for forgiveness and a whole life. This doesn't mean they don't face consequences for their actions, but it also doesn't mean that we give up on them as people. Sounds tough, right? How could we ever hope for our perpetrators? How could we want good for them when they've brought so much pain to us? That's just the thing...viewing justice in a way that upholds the dignity and worth of the offender still allows us space to grieve and be angry, but it doesn't allow us to stay there. Capital punishment is an injustice to the convicted in that their lives are not valued, and it is an injustice to the victims because it does not challenge them to reconcile. True justice requires that we grow up, face the issues within ourselves, and hope for a better way of living for the offender. It requires that we love when we want to hate, hope when we want to give up, and let live when we want to kill.

Let us find a better way to relieve our hurt and anger, and let us value all life in such a way that hopes for tomorrow.

Vengeance is not justice. Retribution is not justice. Reconciliation is.

Thanks, Yogi.

It was just one of those mornings. You know...one of those up too early, workout was a wash, cold shower, knee cut by a razor, not a single outfit looks good, hair has a mind of its own, no eggs for breakfast, empty cupboards = almonds packed for lunch, I forgot I'm picking up a friend and I'm going to be late! kind of mornings. I had nothing major to complain about - sometimes we call these first world problems - but I was feeling rushed and somehow ill-prepared for the day. I just felt....off. As I rummaged through our tiny kitchen to find a morsel of something edible for lunch, I snatched my whistling tea kettle and poured the hot water into a mug. A quick shot of honey and a splash of milk later, I plopped my tea bag in and decided it would simply have to steep on my way to work. As I grabbed my things I rushed out the door to begin my day and as I was getting into my car I looked down at the tag on my tea bag and read There is nothing more precious than the self. 

Oh Yogi, you sure know how to stop me in my tracks.

I instantly felt this overwhelming sense of calm. My day took a turn, and I was reminded that in the midst of what felt chaotic, there was time to slow down and appreciate the beauty life offers if I am only willing to see it. And much of that beauty actually lies within me. My life is not about getting somewhere on time or accomplishing the day's many tasks. There is so much more to me and to my mission in this life. I am precious.

My heart smiled with every sip of tea that morning, and when I had consumed every last drop I took the tag and taped it to my computer monitor. Still today I sit at my desk and read my little reminder that there is nothing more precious than the self.

It was around February that I shared with some of my peers the challenges that have come with getting to know myself more over the past couple years. Perhaps one day I will share more about some of those things. For now it will suffice to say it hasn't always been easy. One of my dear friends asked how I've coped with the challenges, and after a moment to reflect on her question, I responded by saying, "I like myself. I like who I'm becoming."

That was a moment of differentiation for me. It was a significant one. In fact, I think it may have been the first time that I've openly declared my love for...me. It didn't feel narcissistic or grandiose, and I was not seeking affirmation or really any kind of attention; rather, it felt freeing and peaceful. As my heart smiled at my tea bag, my heart smiled at my words.

When we truly know ourselves, our strengths and our areas of growth, and in that we love ourselves, I think we're better able to be in relationship with others. I cannot offer what I do not have, and I can't take from others what they can't provide. It is my responsibility to care for me, to love me, to know me, and to grow me. Those ventures belong to no one else. I need to know where I end and others begin and take care of that which belongs to me. I'm seeing these changes in me and I'm excited about them. I do like myself. I do like who I'm becoming. There truly is nothing more precious than the self. There is truly nothing more precious than me.