I Got YER Back

I Got YER Back.

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I Got YER Back

So the title motivates many a conversation.  Is it supportive, truth, a platitude we throw one another and never have any intention of following through on as we speak it?  I tussle with that as I contemplate my place in family, business, faith, and community.  What does that look like?  Maybe I am the only one that thinks through these ideas, but I recently posted a question on my Facebook that has generated some response.  I asked:  why do people do “good” things for others…is it because we are so motivated and cannot help to do so, or is it an ulterior motive? Please answer and provide rationale…..there is an ulterior motive to my question.

The responses were quite varied.  From some who admitted that there is always an ulterior motive (altruistically or not) to what we do.  Some contend that it is unavoidable, others contend that it is a “given” or that others are “programmed to serve”–it comes naturally without thought or regard as to what they may or may not attain as a result.  I think this an intriguing concept in this day and age.  As I contemplate the current political and social atmosphere, this ideology of community has been lost.  I wonder about that. 

I have been a teacher for many years and one the “perks” of the teaching world (be mindful the age-long debate of adequate compensation will NOT take place here) is that there are some days that teachers have for either sick leave, medical leave, and if lucky, there are 2 days available as “comp” days.  Often there exists a chance to contribute to the bank of days that are available in the event a serious illness or family situation arises.  I never batted an eye when it came to whether I would donate 2 of my days to the bank.  It never crossed my mind that others would question the concept either, it is interesting to note how many deem this an uncommon practice.  It baffles me, actually.  As I speak with people in my parents’ generation, I am shocked by the reticence contained in their reasoning as to why they would not donate.  It does not even cross their mindset that a donation of such magnitude would exist.  Interesting.  I asked my mother one time what she would do and she remarked that she would keep each day for herself.  I speak with young people my same age, (keep nearly 40 age jokes to a minimum) and the idea that they would come along another is unheard of, it does not exist.  Regardless of what one believes about health care, the idea that I would contribute to a common “pot” in order that more benefit seems contrary to most of my generation.  The idea that someone, anyone would be in need and that I could contribute is an honor.  The idea that I would not come along and meet a need, no matter how slight or the plight never matters.  It simply does not register for me to consider another option.

This idea of community is one I continue to explore.  What is that?  If I look at the denotation for the word community, it is one of a unified group of people striving toward a common cause.  From a connotative exploration, it implies so much more than that.  It implies relationship and giving and a natural offspring of that is acceptance.  Acceptance of what exactly?  Is it receipt of said relationship and giving and so much more?  If one extends the hand and it is not accepted, what does that do to the other?  Is it a slap in the face? 

I am guilty of such an action.   I look back at the last statements and paragraphs I have penned and am shamed.   Not shamed necessarily, but conflicted.  Hiding behind the well constructed sentences and verbage is often the easiest course of action when I come upon a subject matter that is too close to heart.  I can tell the stories of others and loved ones with passion and vigor and I am uber-joyed to do so.  Yes, I said uber-joyed, I love that term-uber.  The reality is that I do not have a clue as to how this community thing works.  Yup, I just admitted the great and powerful cindy does not always have a clue.  There is a scene in the musical, RENT.  Roger and Mark are screaming at one another, Roger about to leave the group and head to parts unkown in San Fransisco, he has sold his guitar, left the woman he loves, and is ready to wash his hands of the whole community that enveloped him.  Mark, the ever-observant narrator calls him on his shit.  Yup, I just said shit, too.  When confronted, the two clash–makes for wondrous dramatic interludes.  The comments from both in this moment are so raw, so real. 

Mark “For someone who’s always been let down, who’s heading out of town?”

Roger “For someone who’s longed for a community of his own, who’s with his camera, alone?”

Ouch.  Busted.  In walks Mimi, Roger’s intended, his soul.  “You don’t want baggage without lifetime guarantees.”  Anyone else feel the emptiness there?  I do and I can hear the pain in those interactions.  It is not simply a moment of Cindy living vicariously through an outstanding musical theatre experience, (thank you Jonathon Larson) I willing to admit it is as part of my heart’s cry.  I believe, furthermore, that I am not the only one to feel that.  Humor me some more as I reveal more of this RENT (ed) motif. 

MARK
Don’t Breathe Too Deep
Don’t Think All Day
Dive Into Work
Drive The Other Way
That Drip Of Hurt
That Pint Of Shame
Goes Away
Just Play The Game

You’re Living In America
At The End Of The Millennium

You’re Living In America
Leave Your Conscience At The Tone

And When You’re Living In America
At The End Of The Millennium
You’re What You Own

ROGER
The Filmmaker Cannot See

MARK
And The Songwriter Cannot Hear

ROGER
Yet I See Mimi Everywhere

MARK
Angel’s Voice Is In My Ear

ROGER
Just Tighten Those Shoulders

MARK
Just Clench Your Jaw Til You Frown

ROGER
Just Don’t Let Go

BOTH
Or You May Drown

You’re Living In America
At The End Of The Millennium
You’re Living In America
Where It’s Like The Twilight Zone

And When You’re Living In America
At The End Of The Millennium
You’re What You Own

So I Own Not A Notion
I Escape And Ape Content
[What You Own lyrics on http://www.lyricsreg.com%5D

I Don’t Own Emotion – I Rent

MARK
What Was It About That Night

ROGER
What Was It About That Night

BOTH
Connection-In An Isolating Age

MARK
For Once-The Shadows Gave Way To
Light

ROGER
For Once The Shadows Gave Way To
Light

BOTH
For Once I Didn’t Disengage

MARK
Angel- I Hear You- I Hear It
I See It- I See It
My Film!

ROGER
Mimi I See You– I See It
I Hear It- I Hear It
My Song!

MARK (On the phone)
Alexi – Mark
Call Me A Hypocrite
I Need TO Finish My
Own Film
ROGER
One Song-Glory
Mimi
Your Eyes

mark
I QUIT!

Dying In America
At The End Of The Millennium
We’re Dying In America
To Come Into Our Own
And When You’re Dying In America
At The End Of The Millennium
You’re Not Alone
I’m not Alone.

Oh, dear readers, let those lyrics slide over you, let them engage who you are in your souls.  Listen to the essence in those words, hear the admission of community, the need, the desire for connectedness.  The chance to give oneself a break and live in the moment and to accept not a hand out, but a hand up!  There is such a difference, I have to believe there is a difference.  Whether I admit it or not, this fierce independence is killing off my individual essence and the chance to connect to a community.  Wow, that realization just hit.  I am part of a generation and a society so stilted to do it on their own, to accept help from no one and to help no one that we are dying.  We are dying to know self.   I keep telling  myself, “Just keep truckin, keep working, achieving, choke down emotion…RENT….don’t own emotion.  Don’t own it, RENT IT.”  Ah, how wrong I am, how wrong we are to do this to one another.  I hurt for this concept.  Hear the cry we are sending out….from people desiring the instant fix, the disconnection with real emotion, the inability to love one another…what are we doing?  Why are we smiting our communal noses in an effort to remain disengaged, unfeeling, and safe?  Why are we killing each other with words of hatred, bullets of shame, and isolation?  Why do we accept it as status quo?  Because it is what we know.

You know, the risky and ballsy move is acceptance…not insolance, but redemption.  Renewal is terrifying, it is easier to destroy than to create.  Creation takes time, vigilance, blood, and tears.  It is some of the most painful and rewarding work I understand.  To shake myself from a peaceful and stagnate existence into one that embraces community and a like-minded journey reveals me for what I am.  Scared.  Yes, from the self-proclaimed egghead, know-it-all, enough German to be a stubborn butt…I admit, I am scared.  I have no idea what community looks like when I embrace it, I know only the fly over crop dusting that is rental.  What a sham.–note that I said sham…not shame.  There is no shame in admitting being scared, there is shame in knowing that there is something different out there and doing nothing to embrace it and making it available to others.

What do I glean from this moment of creation….I have much to learn and I am not ashamed to tackle what that means.  It means that maybe I have made a first step in changing a mode of thinking I have ingrained in my understanding for nearly 38 years.  It means, maybe, just maybe…I’m not alone.

shalom,

cahl.

 

H E L P!

H E L P!.

H E L P!

Not only a fabulous Beatles song, HELP ! speaks to me tonight. 

When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody’s help in anyway.
But now these days are gone, I’m not so self assured,
Now I find I’ve changed my mind, I’ve opened up the doors.

I think getting older puts new perspective on this.  I reflected on this tonight as I drove home and I encountered a love/hate relationship with this concept.  I recall growing up and being quite good at “going it alone.”  I remember my mother telling me numerous times that as a child, I did not embrace someone helping me in any way.  I took fierce pride in that, I still do.  However, I find that a more lonely place to be now that I am older.

When I hear my mother mention that now, there is less pride and more sadness that takes over in those moments.  I think to myself what it would look like to rest in that dependence on another person…to lean into what others have for each of us.  I have spent years and years “producing” and it is quite difficult to let go of that.  I never wanted anyone to help me.  I take that back, I did and I did not.  I found that it was safer to work it alone, solo mission, that way there was no one left to blame if things did not go as planned.  I had no one to blame but me.  I also had no one else to lean on in times of trouble.  There is a danger when we cut people off from our lives, we stay safe, but we lose. 

In my family systems class I learned that sometimes a “Cut-off” is necessary for individuation and self preservation.  I understand that.  Bowenian theory tells us independence is not simply about “cut-off” 

Yes, people can always pretend to be independent and sometimes these people can exist for years cut off from family relationships. Many people do indeed manage to build alternative families.  Over time these relationships may work but if a when they fall apart; people are often left high and dry for someone, sometimes anyone to relate to

Ya know, I am slinging BS.  I don’t know what I am talking about right now.  I could wax poetic till I am blue in the face, I could sling all the Psycho babble in my MDIV training, I could hide.  The fact is, I call others on their BS, so I’d best be able to do it on my own.  Facing those comments from my mother make me scared, I like being independent then, but there is a part of me that yearns to hear what my mommy would do when I threw my temper tantrums of fierce independence.  I look at my own sons and I pursue them doggedly.  I do not let them push away, I do not let them wander off alone…I mean I do, but I don’t.  I remain steadfast…annoyingly so.

As I come to the end of my seminary journey, I look back on some that have been there through some mighty thick and thin.  No matter what was thrown at them, they remained steadfast beside me.  They know who they are, and I must admit that I did my fair share of pushing and “mothering” to the best of my ability.  Some got in my face, went toe-to-toe with me and others forced their way into the midst of my life no matter how often I tried to shut the door.  I did and I do, often.

It’s easier to function that way, but it is not more pleasant.  It is lonely and it can be highly manipulative.  Yes, I called that out.  Those dogged independent types like myself can be horribly manipulative, not meaning to hurt, but to protect.  In that protection there can be more isolation than what was originally intended, and the only person to blame is self.  I used that position to garner a lowly spot and I have no idea what it gained me.  None.  To what end do I continue to take perverse pleasure in neglecting the kind hands that others would extend? My gut tells me I am not the only one to behave in such a manner….I won’t be the last.

Emotion, being human is not a weakness.  I am learning to embrace the strength in that, it is not easy.  It requires that I know me, inside and out.  It requires that I fight to let others help me, sometimes I have no idea what that looks like—maybe it is a gifting and an understanding that I have to grow into as time continues.  What does that look like?  I know not…maybe today is the first step to admitting that I too, need HELP!

 

To be or not to Be….

To be or not to Be…..

To be or not to Be….

So, the major fundraiser on which I was working as part of a team is over.  It went smashingly.  All the work and collaboration coming together toward a common goal, it was amazing to see.  It was more amazing to watch people as they enjoyed themselves at the event, the energy was palpable.  I had mixed feelings, wanting to see more people there and more cash flow coming in, but one of my challenges is to find the joy in the moment and relish it for what it is.  Ah, the standards I possess.

One item has become clear, above all the titles that I may hold or have held over the years, the overwhelming call that rises to the surface is that of communicator.  If I look at the Strength Finders assessment, I find that WACA fits….Woo, Activator, Communicator, Adapter.  We always knew I was WAC~  As I work with Community Development, it makes sense for me to embrace this idea of Communicator above all.  All the others flow logically into it.  A good communicator can take any message, dream, call, and tailor it for the people that need and want to hear it.  It does not matter if it is written or verbal.  I am grateful to have been trained and gifted in both.  I have spent years searching for the “perfect” title to describe my existence…Eclectic?  Maybe.  Nah.  I am a communicator.

Even if I chose to be a certified Spiritual Director and Chaplain, I still communicate.  I have the privilege to convey a message of hope and forgiveness that we all need to embrace.  I found that marketing and connections proved important in this endeavor and I found them easy fits for me.  Who knew that I would be putting these to work, marketing, months before I graduate with my MDIV.  The truth is, there is ONE that knew the entire time.  There is a sense of liberation that comes in this understanding.  Maybe I do not have to search for the consummate title that will encompass my existence, much less justify it.  Maybe I can be comfortable with effectively communicating the stories I have been given from others, or from my experience to help someone else.

The height of the night for me was not counting the spoils, or taking the pics.  It was the food, although that was WONDERFUL….part of the joy was sitting back and watching people enjoy themselves…hearing the laughter from people who love each other and the mission we represent.  I truly love the team that I work with day in and day out.  My boss and our other comrade are top notch people and I love them like family. We fight, laugh, tease, argue, argue, laugh, work, and love–hard.  Whatever we are doing, we do hard and committed.  We have shared dreams, goals, hurts, frustrations, tears, giggles, laughter, and more dreams.  We have each other’s back and that is worth more than anything in this fear-laden society where one has to be on constant guard.  We do not fear with one another, we do not fear the board we serve..we love them–dearly.  I wish I could adequately communicate how much we would do for them and how honored we are to partner with our board.  Aside from the monetary finances, (which will come–we hope), we are a gifted staff, with people and connections that build us as people and as an organization.

I know this is a more boring blog than what I normally write, and I have not commented in quite awhile.  Grant me some lee-way and I shall continue my writing.  For those interested, I am on chapter 3 of the book, and feel new compunction to complete this project.  I also sold 2 framed pictures recently…more than the pictures, was the story that went with them–that is worth more than the $ amount they brought.

A sidenote, telling those stories, bringing people together, and remunerating the mission of what we are doing was the best part of my night.  I felt alive, I felt real, I felt like me…hand me a chance to talk with people and convey a message and I am the happiest camper.  Now, how doth one receive payment for something like that?  Does one receive payment for that????

Blessings in all your communications, may they impact you to the core! 

SHALOM,

cahl.

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