Overwhelming Appreciation
[Crisis & Awakening - VIII]As a reminder, I’m spending a month reflecting on the characteristics of revival (re-viver; "again to live”) without using religious language. We’re in what is often called the “Holiday Season”, which is basically Thanksgiving through the New Year. Fresh in my mind is Thanksgiving dinner exercise of sharing something we are thankful for. Half forced, but not totally insincere, all the regular things are noted: family, health, good friends, and a warm home. This is not a bad exercise. Often it feels like “going through the motions,” but intentional gratitude is an important discipline that is directly linked to joy. Revival, however, is different than the discipline of gratitude. It’s marked by overwhelming episodes of appreciation. Unprompted and arising from deep within, thankfulness permeates all experiences. Family, health, and friends are on the list of things we appreciate, but so are things we often don’t notice. The scent of pine, the simplicity of fueling your car, the friendly nod from a stranger, stop lights that keep drivers safe, morning coffee, a child’s hug, a text message from a friend, and an old trusty pair of shoes can all be reasons for overwhelming appreciation. Thankfulness in the round is one thing. Deep, overwhelming appreciation is another.Youthful Spontaneity
[Crisis & Awakening - VII]Nothing marks youthfulness more than the tendency to act spontaneously. And it’s precisely this youthful characteristic that marks a life well into a season of renewal. (Age makes no difference.)But spontaneity and impulsivity are different. Impulsivity is the tendency to act without forethought, considering the effects of a decision only on one’s own satisfaction. Impulsive decisions, by definition, are decisions made without planning, but what makes them different than spontaneous decisions is that they don’t take into consideration anyone or anything else. In this way, impulsivity is *not* the antithesis of planning but of awareness.Spontaneity is fully aware. Also without planning, spontaneous decisions can still be made with an attentiveness to the potential effects on others. Spontaneous decisions consider ramification and yet are still abrupt and extemporaneous. Impulsivity is childish. Spontaneity is childlike and youthful.Less There-ness
[Crisis & Awakening - VI]One sign of an awakening has no external evidence, but entirely changes the way we experience the external world. It is simply an increased presence in each moment. Here’s the neat thing about presence: it both serves as a discipline to foster awakening and a sign that awakening is underway. In other words, presence is something we can practice; it’s also a practice that becomes easier as we undergo renewal. Presence is attentiveness. Mindfulness.*Here-ness*. It’s a lack of distraction. Less desire to be elsewhere. Less *there-ness*. As a discipline it helps to remove all distractions. Alternatively, when renewal is fully underway, people report that external distractions make no difference.Storytelling Over Gossip
[Crisis & Awakening - V]Gossip is sharing information about someone not present. The shared information often come with a moral judgment, which makes it mildly slanderous. The worst form of gossip seems to be for the purpose of personal advancement. Consider how many times we do this: talk about someone not present with an air of moral judgment. Almost every conversation. A sign of renewal is a lost appetite for gossip. It’s hurtful. It’s (implicitly) self promoting. In its place is a growing desire for good story telling. About us. Our follies. Our joys. Our way of seeing the world.Into the Woods
[Crisis & Awakening - VI]I’ve heard from many people they feel the presence of the Divine in nature. It’s as if the noise of the city drowns out the gentle whisper of anything that matters. A life lived full of noise—with very little silence, no slow-paced walks in fresh air, and seldom a grove of unpruned trees—is a life deficient of the opportunities to be quiet enough to deeply listen. Like a homing device, we are drawn outside and into the wild. A part of us belongs there; it’s the same part of us that wants to connect, to hear, to hold onto the whispers from a Deep Source. Children don’t resist this calling. Adults often stuff it away. That’s why a revival often looks less like religious showmanship and more like adults acting like children and heading into the woods.Ideation Rather Than Repetition
[Crisis & Awakening - V]When we’re scared, we hunker down. When threatened, we hide. When nervous, we shrink. When afraid, we run. A true awakening does not eliminate threats; rather, it more healthfully asses them. It doesn’t eliminate fear, but it gives us the wherewithal to know when (and in what dose) it’s necessary. The result is not zero fear, but proper fear. And when fear is a situational tool rather than our operative norm, we hide less, protect ourselves less, and run away less. This is why an awakening is often marked by ideation rather than repetition, creativity rather echo chambers. It’s a physiological fact that when we are afraid, our creative impulses shut down. Survival is the objective. We seek shelter, comfort, and familiarity. That often looks like repetitive voices that remind us we are right, safe, and justified. By definition, this an echo chamber. If you want to know where an awakening is underway, look for where a spirit of creativity is flourishing and where a diversity of ideas and perspectives are welcome.Making More Music
[Crisis & Awakening - IV]When experiencing conflict, do you engage with a will to win or do you retreat with a will to avoid? Do you puff up or slink down? Do you raise your voice or quiet it and even go silent? A sign of awakening…Evidence of a revival…A symbol of renewal and new life……Is not that you would choose silence if you formerly were a screamer, or choose to engage if you formerly chose to disengage, but instead, that the very tendency to create conflict would be displaced with a desire to create beauty. Instead of silence, humming. Instead of screaming, singing. Instead of arguing and cowering, a strong appetite for music. Whatever your tendencies, if you find yourself making more music, singing aloud, and tapping beats, you may be experiencing the early signs of a fresh wind of renewal.Feeling Connected
[Crisis & Awakening - III]Teen anxiety is up. Depression is too. So are the numbers of suicide. It’s like our (children’s) souls are protesting the pandemic by sacrificing their bodies on the alter of real health. I’m not a conspiracy theorist. I don’t buy into the soon-to-be-deleted Youtube video exposing “the truth”. And I don’t have an appetite for basement experts. But I do hear the cries of the young, and at the center of their weeping is a petition for connection, for community, for the types of relationships needed to stay buoyant in the torrential sea of life. A *revival* is fundamentally marked by a feeling of connectedness. Where there is renewal and revelation, there too is a deep sense of connection with others bearing the weight of this world together. Isolation is darkness. Connection is light.Upside-down Frown
[Crisis & Awakening - II]I remember being told as a child that a smile requires fewer muscles than frowning, so I should “turn my frown upside down.” I understand the sentiment behind the directive: happiness is better than sadness, so let’s do the simple things within our power to avoid the latter. Unfortunately "putting a smile on" is only appearance manufacturing. There’s no correlation between engaging our maxillofacial “smile muscles” and our complex emotional landscape. It's pseudo happiness that we think convinces the outside world that we are truly happy. It doesn’t work. A sincere smile requires no cognizant muscle engagement. No reminders. No encouragement. No coercion. No mandate. A smile is as much in you eyes as in your lips, your neck and shoulders and chest as in your cheeks. It begins from a place that is deeper than muscular engagement. Sincere smiles begin in your center. Where truth sits. Where love rests. Where empathy is born. This is why revival often shows itself not in religious displays and pious acts, but in frequent “attacks” of smiling. Sincere, wonderful smiling.On Mirrors & Judgment
[Crisis & Awakening - I]The world is a mirror. The things we dislike and judge in others is a reflection of what we detest and judge in ourself. This is why Carl Jung said, “Although our conscious minds are avoiding our own flaws, they still want to deal with them on a deeper level, so we magnify those flaws in others.” In other words, as an act of avoidance, we amplify and throw onto others our problems. Or, we first reject that which is in us and then project it onto others. Reject then project. But we only see dimly the lives of those around us. That neighbor, coworker, or stranger has a long and convoluted story behind the thin shell that you witness (and judge). Judging is both a judgement of something in us that we haven’t fully owned and judgement of an other we don’t fully understand. The damage goes both directions. Judging closes us off… from ourself and others. Judging separates us… from ourself and others. Judging injures… us and others. The “judgement cycle” begins to break when we awaken to our propensity to avoid our own flaws. A sign of renewal is using the mirror of the world to be more curious about our shadows and more empathetic about the depth of others.December Challenge
[Crisis & Awakening - Intro]I’ve spent almost three years offering daily reflections on vocation and social change. I’ve covered a wide number of topics within those general categories, and I’ve realized that each topic is my attempt to name what is true to my experience without getting bogged down with religious jargon. Are my reflections religious? Well, sure. Sometimes it’s more obvious than others.
But is it jargon-y? Never (I hope). This month I’m challenging myself to use this same tact but speak meaningfully about a more traditionally religious topic. Can I avoid religious jargon and still speak/write poignantly about spiritual awakening? Conversion? Religious experience? I believe I can. For the next 30 days, I’ll be wrangling with how to communicate truthfully and with precision about what I’m calling “Crisis & Awakening”—articulating spiritual renewal for those uninterested in cliches and jargon.First, Honesty
[Vulnerability and Power - XXXV]There is no community without vulnerability. Assemblies? Sure. Gatherings? Okay.Parties? Yeah. But community? No. Community is not hard because nobody wants to make genuine connections. We all want that! Community is hard because vulnerability is hard. And vulnerability is first and foremost *honesty*. About the parts of ourselves we’d rather leave out. There’s no magic community potion hidden in the apothecary of your wounds. But when we edit out parts of who we are, we aren't fully present; and we implicitly encourage the idealized projections of others. The space might be safe from harm, but it will never be deeply safe. The gathering might not be fraught with threats on our wellbeing, but is won’t every be full of the potential for true connection. It’s free of vulnerability, and it’s free of community.Holding Space for Conflict?
[Vulnerability and Power - XXXIV]Killing is the highest expression of power. To end a life is to quite literally have ultimate power over that person or thing. Is that true? I’m not sure it is. Perhaps it’s ultimate influence. Maybe ultimate control. Definitely ultimate violence. But power? I’m beginning to think killing is a form of weakness, an expression of cowardice and fear. Killing ends conflict. (This is true between two humans but also true between me and the gopher in my garden.) Killing is the enactment of the truth that the person with the bigger “gun” would rather end the conflict than continue to hold space for it. Killing is easier than sustained conflict. It’s easier than working toward—no matter how long it takes!—a less violent solution. The highest expression of power is to hold space for conflict *without killing*, figuratively or literally. (It also evenly distributes vulnerability.)+++++Today's the day... I begin to share about my upcoming book via weekly newsletter.A Real Mirage
[Vulnerability and Power - XXXIII]That picture on the cover of the magazine isn’t real. It’s a real person and a real picture printed on real paper. But it doesn’t correlate with the real. It’s not representative of something that exists. That woman (or man or couple) does not exist in this world. It’s real in the way a mirage is a real mirage but not a real lake. The woman represented in the picture left the complexity of her life behind when she arrive at the studio. She was no longer Janelle. She was a figure with a “look” rather than a woman with experiences and a story. Her physical blemishes were covered when she sat down to have her makeup done. And parts of her were distorted—slimmed, exaggerated, re-colored, and enhanced—during the editing of picture. She was no longer a human figure but a crafted figurine. The picture on the magazine is a *dehumanized other*: a lifeless, story-less, idea of beauty. This is how we deny others their humanity. One by one, we omit the details from their lives. Leave out that detail. Cover up that blemish. Hide that fact. To the point where the other is no longer human at all, but a figurine of our own creation. More detail. More scars. More complexity and nuance. This is how we give people back their humanity. It’s vulnerable to “re-humanize” others. Especially when they are your enemies. It’s also the only way to *empower* a different future.+++++
Heads up: this Friday I begin to share about my upcoming book via weekly newsletter.Conversion & Confession
[Vulnerability and Power - XXXII]Our ultimate moment of vulnerability is facing death. It’s not coincidental that the dying are moved to confession and conversion. Not because they are running out of time, but rather, because despite common belief, as vulnerability increases, so does (true) power. Conversion doesn’t seem powerful. Confession seems more like an expression of weakness.Regarding conversions, ask a pastor, imam, or priest. Ask them to describe the most powerful, life-altering, world-shattering experiences they’ve witnessed in people’s lives. They’ll likely point to divine encounters and conversions. Regarding confessions, ask the recipient. Ask the child of a dying parent or the partner of a dying spouse. Ask them how powerful confessions are toward the end. They’ll like find no parallel. I’ll leave conversions up to God. Confession? Why wait to the end. Harness the (true) power now. Confess.Make amends. Reconcile.+++++This Friday I begin to share about my upcoming book via weekly newsletter. Don’t miss it!Trusting Anyways
[Vulnerability and Power - XXXI]“Blind faith” seems redundant. Isn’t faith by definition blind? As in, believing in something unseen. Then why must we qualify it with “blind”? It’s like we’re admitting to ourselves that faith is NOT actually confidence we have with regard to Ultimate Meaning or God. We double down not because we’re confident but because we’re insecure. Blind faith requires too much pretending. Too much showmanship. When we make faith about something unachievable (certainty about that which cannot be proven) we invite the facades, the posturing, and the public pretending—all projections of what we *ought* to sense internally but really never do. The essence of faith is not certainty in the unseen but comfort in the uncertainty of the unseen. It’s facing the vulnerability of not having the answer and *stepping forward anyways*. It’s being honest about fear and insecurity and worry and *leaning in anyways*.It’s naming the reasons for despair *and insisting on hope anyways*. It’s not actually knowing and *trusting anyways*.+++++This Friday I begin to share about my upcoming book via weekly newsletter. Don’t miss it!Running from Violence
[Vulnerability and Power - XXX]The definition of coward is the lack of bravery. Bravery means courageous behavior. To be a coward, then, is to be someone that is deficient of bravery or backs down from instances that require bravery.Common perspective: running from violence is cowardice. But this is not always true, especially if engaging in violence requires less bravery than avoiding it. True cowardice is not running from violence but engaging in the *imbalance* of violent potential. I can think of many examples of this. Consider war. Is it brave to engage in warfare when the power imbalance is extraordinarily one sided? Is it brave to wield vastly more violent potential? No. True bravery might mean waging peace with a much weaker adversary (and risking public scrutiny). Consider relationships. Is it brave to intimidate someone with far less power? Is it an example of bravery to charge into relational conflict when the negative consequences are disproportionate? No. It’s far more brave to relinquish the potential to damage or abuse someone that is younger, smaller, less powerful, or less influential. Don’t accept the common perspective.Sitting With Self
[Vulnerability and Power - XXIX]Belonging to a community sustains us. How about belonging to yourself? Have you denied a part of yourself, effectively creating an internal, sustained disunity? Welcoming the stranger is a radical extension of belonging. It gives the gift of life to an other. Have you not welcomed the stranger within, the parts of you that are unfamiliar and foreign? Have you denied yourself life? Sitting with others in pain builds connections beyond difference. It affirms togetherness over separation. Have you allowed yourself to feel those dark emotions? Have you sat long enough in your own pain, or have you tried to bypass it for now, only for it to wage war on your wellbeing later? Sit with yourself.
Don’t write that part of you off.
Be patient with that other part.
Relax. Powerful, isn’t it?Sitting With Others
[Vulnerability and Power - XXVIII]Collective Joy is powerful. It’s more than the sum of isolated, individual moments of happiness. It’s a synergy of uplift. It both affirms community as a necessary component of life and embraces the common good of shared celebration. Collective pain is powerful, too. It’s more than a bunch of hardships coexisting in proximity. It’s communal lament. It both affirms community as a necessary component of life and embraces the common good of shared grief. They are both powerful precisely for the reason they are often avoided: the insecurity and fear of deep human connection. To sit with others in joy, and even more so to sit with others in pain, is to bypass disagreement for connection, forego difference for communion. Sit with someone in joy (or pain) this week. It will be a healing tonic for your soul. +++++Reminder: the newsletter for my upcoming book goes out next week. Don’t miss it.Dis-empowering Words
[Vulnerability & Power - XXVII]If belonging (to a diverse community of mutuals) is the bedrock of (true) power, then not belonging or "dis-belonging” might be considered the greatest form of dis-empowerment. Inclusion, power. Exclusion, dis-empowering. Communion, powerful. Exile, weakness. Exclusion and exile are not born in extreme acts of injustice and evil, though they may end up there. Rather, they are first born in the subtle use of words, images, and stories. Separation begins when we remove nuance, context, and variability from our communication over time. Words matter. They can separate. They can hurt. Labels are often flat, too narrow, and hurtful too. Unexamined, recycled stories often dis-empower. ++++++I deal at length with the relationship between language and power in my next book. Don’t forget to sign up for the newsletter.