The Power of Forgiveness

It is strange to me the potential power that can be released by the simple act of forgiveness. I had no idea how dynamic it could be, but I am learning.

Patty Griffin is a wise woman. Listen to the lyrics of her songs and you will understand. Her song "Forgiveness" has been on my mind lately for obvious reasons. In the first verse she sings about snakes at the bottom of the well. She describes how people are swimming in silent darkness where they simply fell, and how if they stay there, they will never be free. The trick is to obtain that freedom, the people must experience forgiveness in one form or another, whether by granting it or receiving it.

This is where I am...trying to climb out of the well. I don't want to forever swim about in the dank, murky waters. I am seeking freedom and peace, and to do that, I must experience forgiveness.

In my case, I have to forgive myself, which for some reason is considerably more difficult than forgiving someone else. As I daily strive to do so though, I can feel the walls around my heart slowly chip away. It's frightening most certainly, but I believe this to be a good and necessary experience if I want my life to progress instead of remaining stagnant.

The interesting part is that as I allow myself more freedom, I also am forcing myself to try to understand many emotions which I have always tossed aside as meaningless or senseless. I now find myself wanting to feel things the way other people do. I want to see the other side of the spectrum. I want to know it, and I do not want to be afraid.

This is a difficult task, and for someone who is a calculated risk taker, it has me on edge a bit. I think I will be able to find my footing eventually, but it will take time. Until then, I'll just find a comfy spot and settle in for the ride.

Oh What an Epiphany It Was...

A friend was telling me last night that often he's just not quite sure how to take me, meaning he can't always read me. He said I come off as so very put together and self sufficient. Well of course I do...that's the role I play. I told him it was all a facade, and it is. Beneath all of that collected exterior is a girl who cannot allow herself to have a real relationship and she inevitably always ends up alone...exactly where she doesn't want to be.
Everyone wants to be loved by someone...to be looked after and cared for. I run from it though. I am too afraid to let down my guard and risk getting hurt. Well, that's one part of it anyway, but that's the obvious reason. The more discreet, stealthy issue is that I don't trust people because I have yet to forgive myself. Sound strange? Probably. When you think about it though, it makes perfect sense.
I am terrified of making a mess of things again. I worry that I will let down people who love me. I am afraid that I won't be able to recover if I do it again. I'm so very afraid of not being perfect. I cannot forgive myself for what I have done in the past. In my mind, I ruined everything. I am the worst thing I could possibly be...a disappointment.
Yet, I do this to myself. No one else thinks this of me. It is my own hubris that gets the best of me. I know this now. This is the great epiphany. I have to forgive myself in order to truly love someone else and be loved in return. What does that look like in application? An acceptance of past mistakes and a willingness to take a risk and quite possibly falter again.
It seems that if I can perhaps accomplish though I will finally have the freedom I so desire. From what I can tell, as it stands, I am bound by my own chains, and we can't have that now can we?

The Anti-Love Love

I think I tend to believe that I don't want someone to love me because in mind that is essentially nothing more than subjecting myself to under the control of someone else. That only makes me think that I will lose my freedom and independence and that my spirit will be crushed. What I'm beginning to learn is that maybe there is a love out there that isn't quite like that and that perhaps what I know of love isn't really love at all. So maybe it is okay to let someone love me...maybe.

I like having someone around, someone whom I can depend on to laugh with me, cry with me, stay up late and get up early with me. But I seem to like that only on my terms. I am somewhat affronted when I feel like another person is infringing upon my time or makes assumptions about me. But maybe if I can just learn to let people be people I will be in a better mindset. I do want that safe and secure feeling. I do want to be protected. I just fear so much that I will lose bits of who I am in exchange for that safety.

Is there a love that will still allow me to fly freely? Is there a love that is real and isn't like all the silly movies? Is there someone who has his own thoughts and opinions and doesn't take mine as his own? If there is a love like this...an anti-love love, then I'll take it.

A Caged Bird

I didn't always feel this way...at least I don't think I did...

It seems though that my mindset has shifted in the last several years. I have become quite cynical and jaded. I trust virtually no one...not really anyway. And I keep people at arm's length. Selfish? Yes. Willing to change? Not at the moment.

The thought I most want to explore though is my view of love. This is quite possibly my greatest fault. I see love and relationships as a lock and key. I think to be loved by someone must be similar to being a caged bird. Love, in my mind, only symbolizes loss of freedom and independence, loss of self, and something that most closely resembles being an indentured servant. Because of this, I view relationships as nothing more than control. I've been told I'm wrong, and while that may well be true, I am not yet ready to allow my perspective to change. It is too risky. I cannot conceivably allow myself to do something that could cost me my freedom.

Today someone told me that my analogy is backwards and that love is really the bird flying free. I just can't see it though. I have no frame of reference to understand what that might look like in a practical application. The only things I know of love I have mentioned. Well, I know those things, and I have seen fairy tale love in movies. That is just some silly idealistic fable though. Real love isn't so pretty. Relationships don't come so neatly packaged. They are difficult and messy and weighty. They come with chains and locks.

Freedom and independence are the only way to be able to fly though.

The Fine Line Between Genius and Insanity

Recently a friend of mine mentioned that he thought Walt Whitman was brilliant, a genius even, but that he may have been a tad crazy too. I considered this notion for a moment and begin to think of other great artists, poets, writers, etc. What about Sylvia Plath, Edgar Allan Poe, Albert Einstein, Leonardo DaVinci, Dali? The list could go on for quite some time. The point is, all of these people are brilliant. I mean truly brilliant, not in the sense of simply being intelligent, but their intellect and capacity to obtain knowledge and understand concepts and theories is so far beyond what the average person is able to comprehend.
So often, people with this sort of mind, although occasionally praised and revered, are often rather shunned from society. "Normal" people cannot understand the brilliant ones. They do not typically "fit in" at usual social functions, and their conversations are beyond average to say the least. To most people though, that is simply frustrating, weird, and crazy.
I have a theory on this though. First of all, I believe average people say a genius is crazy because it's a simple explanation, one that requires no real backup, and it is easily dismissed in conversation and people simply carry on as they were. I think though that the real reason these people are labeled as "crazy" is because they have the courage to bring to life thoughts and ideas and beliefs that other people only dare to think of in the darkest caverns of their minds. If everyone were honest about what they really thought, wouldn't we all be a little bit crazy too?

The Long Road

the frailty of life is something intangible. it cannot be held in the palm of the hand. it cannot be seen or heard. it is however quite real to all of us, yet we disregard its importance until we are faced with the cold, harsh reality of it.
someone died today. someone dies every day, but this someone was the husband of a friend. as i drove home and watched watched the road unwind in front of me the same way it does every day, i remembered how it feels to lose someone you love. i remembered how it seemed as though i were outside myself watching everything go on around me. i could see myself standing there while the rest of the world continued on with everyday functions. it was as though i were screaming and no one could hear me. there, that cold, dark solitude is what i remembered so well today. that, i'm sure, must be how my friend felt today as she moved through the motions in complete shock while other people tended to their everyday lives. tomorrow she will wake up and her world will have been forever changed. she no longer has a safe place to call home. her home has been dismantled and there is nothing she can do about it.
that is the core of what i'm thinking now. i know so well what it is to lose your "home". not necessarily that i no longer have shelter or a dwelling place, but my actual home with my family, that safe comfortable place, is no longer there for me when i am hurt, frightened, exhausted, lonely, or in need of solace. my home is no longer something that exists. it is nowhere.
is my road one that leads me home? is the idea of home something that can never be attained? is it something that is only fleeting...something that should it be obtained is only destined to be lost again?
i was told tonight there is a difference in living and surviving. i'm not certain that i can differentiate between the two though. nor am i sure what the goal of doing either might be. live for what? survive for what? is there a point to traveling this long, arduous road? what does the end hold? maybe nothing after all...

The Intellect in Theology

For the past year and a half or so I have had lengthy theological debates with an incredibly intelligent friend of mine via Gmail chat. These debates have at times grown quite passionate, and often the only answer I can muster is a simple "I don't know." Initially I was strongly opposed to many of his ideas simply because of my own fundamentalist foundation.

The problem with being a fundamentalist Christian though is that it removes the ability for people to think and reason on their own. As children we are told many different facts about Jesus, the Bible, church, etc; facts that may indeed be fallacies. I think that these ideas such as the inerrancy of the Bible are taught because they are easy. They require no thought. They simply are accepted as truth.

Now if we are encouraged to sort out and reason our own way through issues such as philosophy and politics and also pressed to excel in areas such as calculus and chemistry, how can we rationally discourage people from exploring religion and building a foundation for their beliefs instead of simply accepting someone else's ideology as our own truth? Therein lies the intellect in theology. We should encourage others to seek their own answers, and to ask questions, and to have doubts. How can one man's faith be built on the foundation of another man's? My house cannot be built on my neighbor's foundation. The same applies to my relationship with God and my faith in Him. It must be something that I come to on my own with my own understanding of who God is in my own life. I am unable to do this if my ability to question and think is taken away from me. God has given this intellect. It would be an injustice not to use it.