Reflections on a Sunday

As I lay in bed, coming down from the day, I am choosing to focus my attention on the sermon from this morning's service and the discussion I co-led at Youth Group. My morning started out with a conversation about dream interpretation, with the story of Joseph as the framework. Joseph and his coat of many colors (or sleeves) is likely one of my favorite stories of the old testament.

I'm not sure what exactly it is that draws me to this story, aside of course from having seen the Broadway musical starting Donny Osmond, while in the 7th grade...though, that isn't true--I think it's the dreams. It's Joseph's ability understand and interpret dreams. I had a lot of nightmares and recurrent dreams as a kid...there's one about being chased around the backyard by Alice from the Brady Bunch, unable to scream for help. Or being shot and subsequently paralyzed from the waist down...(Go ahead...analyze. I have.)

I have always been fascinated by dreams, the ramblings of the mind that never rests and the collective unconscious. I have a level of reverence for them as well, particularly in those instances in which they came true. In Joan's sermon today, she talked about being at our most vulnerable at night, though still responsible. We are responsible for our thoughts, our deeds--those done and for those we have left undone--and our dreams. As we sleep our defenses are down. The armor of the day comes off and we rest, at least a bit.

Joan also spoke of living in a state of childlike receptiveness and wonder. Opening ourselves up to new possibilities; being curious. In order to do this those, we again have to put down the armor and defenses learned in adulthood. There is again a level of vulnerability here...an openness, innocence. It makes me think of DBT's Participate. Children are not inherently self conscious. We make them that way. The concept of failure is also foreign to them. Until adults teach them. And without fear and self consciousness, jumping in with both feet is easy.

The last point that really stuck with me was, "as you pray, forgive...". I'm not sure I do either of these enough. I certainly do not pray, or talk to God with the frequency that I could. And perhaps it is because of this, along with my inability to participate, that I do not feel God's presence the way that I once did. Like the bell of Santa's sleigh in The Polar Express, that "rings for all who truly believe", my fear and inability to be receptive block His word.

More later.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

redefining definition

Twice today I found myself in conversations with clients about the definition of family.  In the first, I was assisting to expand the parameters and in the second, one of the clients said it best when she said, "there are two kinds of family, one that you are born into, and one that you create yourself."  This is an idea with which I totally agree, but find that my belief is only one way.

I've created MY family.  An eclectic mix of friends, with myself as the common thread--well and some basic core values--but I am struggling with the idea that I could also be incorporated into someone else's family.  Intellectually it makes sense that it could happen--but accepting this as fact has become more difficult than I thought.

===

11/15/11

Everything is in flux.  I am in the process of redefining myself--who I am, what I want, where I belong.  At it is there that I am getting stuck.  I feel like there are very few places that I do belong.  [I would say there is no where--but a few of you might knock me upside the head] I am trying hard not to feel "in the way" or like a burden (I know I know...), but there is a debate going on inside my head.  I am opting to participate, even though the opposition gets louder when I do.  To do otherwise is just playing into the emotion mind and the gremlin--and she cannot have that much power.

The upcoming holidays are what is bringing this to the forefront, I went through this a few years ago when I first stopped talking to my parents, and now to a greater extent that Kate and I are no longer together.  Where I "fit", trying not to impose, that sense of belonging are all in question.  Granted, I am speaking to my parents again, but certainly not to a degree with which the notion of spending holidays with them is even a remote possibility. 

I do fit though, I know this and get a little bit closer everyday to KNOWing this. 

Jump in with both feet
Let go of self-consciousness
Let go of fear of failure.

I have a beatiful family and they all love me for who I am, not who I was or who I will be.

trying to feel my feet on the floor

Feeling totally disregulated.  Everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down.  Some of which was of my own doing, the rest I had no control over.  Six months ago, if you had asked me where my life was headed, I would have said I knew exactly where I was going and how I was getting there.  Now, I know nothing.  Or at least that is how it feels.  My head is spinning.  Everything I thought was safe, sacred even, has revealed otherwise.

Relationship.

Over.  Now a mutually agreed upon decision, but it didn't start out that way. It was my call.  I threw in the towel.  Neither of us were happy and it was unhealthy.  But I am stuck at the idea of starting over.  The insecurities have reared their ugly heads again.  I was content with the notion that I would never have to date or be alone again.  Even if it meant sacrificing a few things.  Do I regret the decision to leave?  No.  We are both better for it.  But the prospect is unnerving.  I don't like change and there has been an awful lot lately.

Home.

Strained.  The house has been something of a war zone for the last few months.  Because of things going on in the relationship, I did not feel safe being here.  In fact, I avoided being home as much as possible.  And now when I am home, it is still hard.  I am on guard.  Ready for a fight, the need to defend myself or my actions.  When alone my head takes off...so, I try to stay busy. But in doing this, I never feel rested and run down.

Work.

Vulnerable.  This had been my safe place, for months while things were crumbling around me--this was where I felt a sense of confidence and security.  Like I knew which end was up.  Not so much anymore.  Still fighting the urge to withdraw and retreat into comfort of my office--make my numbers and get out at the end of the day.  For the most part, people are genuine with their concern, but still I'm hyper vigilant.  Wary of the intentions of others, mistrusting, betrayed.  Except for with a few. 

Church.

Empty.  I went on Sunday for the first time in a few weeks.  So many questions from others about where 'my other half' was...people saying that they've missed us, me.  Church was something we did together.  Even though it was initially my idea to start going again, we are seen as a package deal.  Sitting in the pew, I tried to stay focused on the readings, the sermon, being mindful of the presence of God.  But, I felt nothing.  Numb almost.  I've thought about trying the earlier service...avoiding the majority of the questions...but that will do little for the emptiness.

There are few places/people where I feel connected these days.  Overwhelmed, and trying hard to not burden people with my stuff.  I know I am withdrawn. Blah. I fight it most days, but sometimes as I try to burn the candle at both ends, you get burned.