Sunday, February 20, 2011
Affirmation in relationships
It flows both ways, if you do it right. But that doesn't mean that the way you give it - the way you love to give it - is going to be the way you receive it.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The beginning of the process
Today I've had an unexpected opportunity to exercise forgiveness as "the decision not to hold onto the hurt." Last night as I was putting leftovers away, I noticed we had too much parmesan white sauce left over for the amount of spinach ravioli that was left, so I decided I'd serve a little of it over some eggs for breakfast this morning. When we got up, I was getting ready to cook when Teri informed me that we only had one egg left. As I was walking out to the door to pick up a dozen, along with some milk and bread, I was surprised to look down and see egg yolk splattered on my front porch.
I took some time to survey the damage: one on my wife's car, at least two on mine, at least two on the porch. I think we probably took a half dozen in all. It didn't occur to me to look up; those two on the porch had landed there after having broken against the gable over the front porch. I went back inside to gather cleaning supplies; the one thing I knew was that cleanup was only going to be more difficult if I waited. While we've had a bit of a warm spell this week, a first taste of spring, it was still around freezing this morning, so I made sure to use warm water from inside to mix the cleaning solution rather than cold hose water, just for my own comfort level. After scrubbing the egg residue off the porch and the cars, I finally thought of how lucky I'd been that they didn't get the gable, which prompted me to look up at last. Sigh. I thought I'd be finally buying the extension ladder I've been eying. I hosed the gable, just to presoak it a bit, before belatedly departing for the grocery store. I hosed it again after getting back, realizing that there was no amount of hosing that was going to do the trick. But after eating our delayed and delicious breakfast, I remembered that I had an extension pole that would allow me to reach the soiled gable with my feet still planted on terra firma. Looking around for 10 seconds, I spotted a brush that had two threaded holes for mounting on just such a pole. After about 5 minutes of over-my-head scrubbing, I had the last of the stubborn residue removed.
The whole time I was working, I was thinking how glad I was that it wasn't the heat of the summer, when the mess would have dried a lot more thoroughly. Yes, it was a cold morning, but not bitterly so, and was going to warm up today rather than freeze. Had the same incident happened when I was out of town, it would've been a lot worse for Teri to deal with, or worse, would've been more permanent damage by the time I got home to clean things up.
So yes, whoever did this was not very nice, but all things considered, I think their not-niceness probably has a bigger impact on their lives than it did on mine.
I took some time to survey the damage: one on my wife's car, at least two on mine, at least two on the porch. I think we probably took a half dozen in all. It didn't occur to me to look up; those two on the porch had landed there after having broken against the gable over the front porch. I went back inside to gather cleaning supplies; the one thing I knew was that cleanup was only going to be more difficult if I waited. While we've had a bit of a warm spell this week, a first taste of spring, it was still around freezing this morning, so I made sure to use warm water from inside to mix the cleaning solution rather than cold hose water, just for my own comfort level. After scrubbing the egg residue off the porch and the cars, I finally thought of how lucky I'd been that they didn't get the gable, which prompted me to look up at last. Sigh. I thought I'd be finally buying the extension ladder I've been eying. I hosed the gable, just to presoak it a bit, before belatedly departing for the grocery store. I hosed it again after getting back, realizing that there was no amount of hosing that was going to do the trick. But after eating our delayed and delicious breakfast, I remembered that I had an extension pole that would allow me to reach the soiled gable with my feet still planted on terra firma. Looking around for 10 seconds, I spotted a brush that had two threaded holes for mounting on just such a pole. After about 5 minutes of over-my-head scrubbing, I had the last of the stubborn residue removed.
The whole time I was working, I was thinking how glad I was that it wasn't the heat of the summer, when the mess would have dried a lot more thoroughly. Yes, it was a cold morning, but not bitterly so, and was going to warm up today rather than freeze. Had the same incident happened when I was out of town, it would've been a lot worse for Teri to deal with, or worse, would've been more permanent damage by the time I got home to clean things up.
So yes, whoever did this was not very nice, but all things considered, I think their not-niceness probably has a bigger impact on their lives than it did on mine.
Monday, February 14, 2011
"I love you more."
I've always hated this expression. Love isn't a competition. It'd be one thing if we usually used this to mean something like "I love you more than I thought possible," or "I love you more today than I did yesterday." But what we usually mean is "I love you more than you love me." Do we really want to turn love into a superiority contest?
You see, this statement may be true, or it may not be. If it isn't, then we're just fishing for reassurance that we really are the center of the other's world. "I'm so insecure that, even though you've said you love me, I need you to convince me that I'm of value." That isn't love.
Ah, but if it is true, then we're making the other feel inferior to us. "As much as you may love me, I'm better at loving you than you are at loving me!" And that isn't love, either.
What may be more universally true is that there are some ways in which we need to learn from how others love us. There are some ways in which I'm surely better at loving my bride than she is at loving me, and vice versa. But seeing as we're different people with different gifts, this should always be the case.
I'm probably a cad for saying so, but the thing is, the person who most recently said this to me - my wife - probably does have stronger feelings for me than mine for her. In this sense, it is likely true that she loves me more than I love her. It isn't that I don't love her deeply, or feel my love for her strongly. I can't imagine what life would be like without her. I've gotten a recent glimpse of it in her recent absences, and I didn't like it! But is that love?
Isn't love my laying down of my life for the sake of my beloved? Isn't it choosing what's best for my beloved, even at the expense of whatever competing need I might have? I think I'm doing that pretty well.
Funny that a few hours after starting to reflect on this, I got into my car at lunch time to hear In My Life, which of course ends with these words in a very different and more acceptable context.
At any rate, I know the proper, playful reply is supposed to be, "No, I love you more!" And my will keeps me from planting my tongue firmly in my cheek and letting go with my natural, biting response: "Yep. I guess you do." In the end, what I find to be my true response is: "I love you beyond telling, and love how you love me, too!"
You see, this statement may be true, or it may not be. If it isn't, then we're just fishing for reassurance that we really are the center of the other's world. "I'm so insecure that, even though you've said you love me, I need you to convince me that I'm of value." That isn't love.
Ah, but if it is true, then we're making the other feel inferior to us. "As much as you may love me, I'm better at loving you than you are at loving me!" And that isn't love, either.
What may be more universally true is that there are some ways in which we need to learn from how others love us. There are some ways in which I'm surely better at loving my bride than she is at loving me, and vice versa. But seeing as we're different people with different gifts, this should always be the case.
I'm probably a cad for saying so, but the thing is, the person who most recently said this to me - my wife - probably does have stronger feelings for me than mine for her. In this sense, it is likely true that she loves me more than I love her. It isn't that I don't love her deeply, or feel my love for her strongly. I can't imagine what life would be like without her. I've gotten a recent glimpse of it in her recent absences, and I didn't like it! But is that love?
Isn't love my laying down of my life for the sake of my beloved? Isn't it choosing what's best for my beloved, even at the expense of whatever competing need I might have? I think I'm doing that pretty well.
Funny that a few hours after starting to reflect on this, I got into my car at lunch time to hear In My Life, which of course ends with these words in a very different and more acceptable context.
At any rate, I know the proper, playful reply is supposed to be, "No, I love you more!" And my will keeps me from planting my tongue firmly in my cheek and letting go with my natural, biting response: "Yep. I guess you do." In the end, what I find to be my true response is: "I love you beyond telling, and love how you love me, too!"
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Happiness drivers
I suppose I must've seen some research on this already, or perhaps have been influenced by other reading I've done. When my therapist asked me to guess what percentage of influence the factors genetics, circumstances, and conscious commitments (other terms might express the same concept) have on our happiness, he told me that no one he'd ever worked with had come so close to guessing what the research actually indicates. (Ego boost for the week: check. Are you sure that "being right" isn't a happiness driver?) I guessed 35, 15, 50. I knew that genetics played a bigger role in our happiness than most people realize, and knew from previous and recent reading (The Resilience Factor - e-book) that we tend to overestimate the role that circumstances play. Of course, our consumerist society promotes that impression. The television, radio and all other forms of advertising are always telling us how to adjust our circumstances to be happier, through buying the latest gadget or product, or vacationing or retiring in the most wonderful locales.
The truth, according to the research, is more like 50, 10, 40. Now, that could be bad news for those who think their happiness is all about circumstances, because our genetics is one set of circumstances that we simply can't change. But it's great news for those who realize that 40% of our happiness drivers are under our control!
I think of the decisions I've made and am making to improve my happiness. The volunteer work -primarily music ministries, but not all - and the faith to which I'm committed are greatly uplifting and deeply fulfilling. The friendships I've chosen and nurtured make a huge difference in my life, and the ones I've neglected still leave a hole. I see that even family - and let's face it, everybody knows that "you can't choose your family" - turns out to be a conscious commitment for me, and I suspect for most people. It's true that we get very little control over who we're related to, except by marriage. And yet I've seen how making a decision to drift away from family when I was younger left me feeling alone and isolated, and the subsequent decision to nurture those relationships has me feeling much more connected and whole.
The unhealthy decisions we make, and that I've made in the past, may often be more circumstantial than committed. We often have brokenness in our lives that may have initially been beyond our control, though the adult decisions we make as a result of them are always our responsibility. But the decision to address these things, aggressively when necessary (including therapy), has definitely been a conscious commitment for me. It has me feeling much more satisfied with myself as a person, and has all the other relationships in my life in far better balance.
These are good things to remember when the circumstances of work are driving me crazy. After all, the conscious commitment to continue to do a good job every day and to make the best of things there, coupled with the circumstance of still being employed, drive a lot of the other happiness decisions I'm able to make as a result.
The truth, according to the research, is more like 50, 10, 40. Now, that could be bad news for those who think their happiness is all about circumstances, because our genetics is one set of circumstances that we simply can't change. But it's great news for those who realize that 40% of our happiness drivers are under our control!
I think of the decisions I've made and am making to improve my happiness. The volunteer work -primarily music ministries, but not all - and the faith to which I'm committed are greatly uplifting and deeply fulfilling. The friendships I've chosen and nurtured make a huge difference in my life, and the ones I've neglected still leave a hole. I see that even family - and let's face it, everybody knows that "you can't choose your family" - turns out to be a conscious commitment for me, and I suspect for most people. It's true that we get very little control over who we're related to, except by marriage. And yet I've seen how making a decision to drift away from family when I was younger left me feeling alone and isolated, and the subsequent decision to nurture those relationships has me feeling much more connected and whole.
The unhealthy decisions we make, and that I've made in the past, may often be more circumstantial than committed. We often have brokenness in our lives that may have initially been beyond our control, though the adult decisions we make as a result of them are always our responsibility. But the decision to address these things, aggressively when necessary (including therapy), has definitely been a conscious commitment for me. It has me feeling much more satisfied with myself as a person, and has all the other relationships in my life in far better balance.
These are good things to remember when the circumstances of work are driving me crazy. After all, the conscious commitment to continue to do a good job every day and to make the best of things there, coupled with the circumstance of still being employed, drive a lot of the other happiness decisions I'm able to make as a result.
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
A Beatitude, and forgiveness revisited
I've been thinking about this agreement that my therapist and I have reached about what forgiveness is. I am finally starting to see it develop more fully in regard to my attitude toward myself and the resulting decisions I make. But I think there's value in articulating its implications a little more.
When I shared with him what I last wrote on this topic, he observed that we were much on the same page, but he would phrase it a little differently: forgiveness is "the decision to let go of the hurt."
That is such a simple concept to express, yet is so challenging to apply to the deepest hurts we experience (or, for that matter, inflict). It can also be a difficult balance to strike. It isn't a denial that we've been hurt, nor is it ignoring how the hurt has affected us. In fact, both those things interfere with true forgiveness. Yet expressing forgiveness in terms of deciding to let go of the hurt reminds me that I have sometimes neglected an important aspect when I have tried to forgive.
I can't have forgiven if I continue to protectively wrap myself around my pain. It's as if I'm willing to let the offender off the hook, but not myself. It's an approach rooted in the obligation to forgive, but without the grace of the healing that true, complete forgiveness brings.
Ah: and when I'm responding to the wrong that I myself have done and come to despise or regret, this can be a great tool for perpetuating my self-flagellation.
The thing is, forgiveness is a process, and even if we're committed to that process it can take years to get there. There isn't any value in beating ourselves up over not having finished with it yet. But sometimes we treat our pain as something to which we're entitled because of the terrible thing that was done to us, or the awful thing we've done. It's probably true that we have every right to embrace our resulting brokenness. Still, as long as we protectively hug our hurt close to our bosom rather than at least trying to let it go, we hold ourselves back from walking more fully into the complete healing that is God's ultimate gift to the merciful.
Without being hard on myself in the process, today let me choose again to let go of my hurts, and thereby more fully forgive those who have inflicted them . . .
When I shared with him what I last wrote on this topic, he observed that we were much on the same page, but he would phrase it a little differently: forgiveness is "the decision to let go of the hurt."
That is such a simple concept to express, yet is so challenging to apply to the deepest hurts we experience (or, for that matter, inflict). It can also be a difficult balance to strike. It isn't a denial that we've been hurt, nor is it ignoring how the hurt has affected us. In fact, both those things interfere with true forgiveness. Yet expressing forgiveness in terms of deciding to let go of the hurt reminds me that I have sometimes neglected an important aspect when I have tried to forgive.
I can't have forgiven if I continue to protectively wrap myself around my pain. It's as if I'm willing to let the offender off the hook, but not myself. It's an approach rooted in the obligation to forgive, but without the grace of the healing that true, complete forgiveness brings.
Ah: and when I'm responding to the wrong that I myself have done and come to despise or regret, this can be a great tool for perpetuating my self-flagellation.
The thing is, forgiveness is a process, and even if we're committed to that process it can take years to get there. There isn't any value in beating ourselves up over not having finished with it yet. But sometimes we treat our pain as something to which we're entitled because of the terrible thing that was done to us, or the awful thing we've done. It's probably true that we have every right to embrace our resulting brokenness. Still, as long as we protectively hug our hurt close to our bosom rather than at least trying to let it go, we hold ourselves back from walking more fully into the complete healing that is God's ultimate gift to the merciful.
Without being hard on myself in the process, today let me choose again to let go of my hurts, and thereby more fully forgive those who have inflicted them . . .
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
It has been an odd sort of week, between the weather, the power outage, and Teri's travel travails. It looks as if things may be heading to a more normal status, as our house was warming up after the power was restored at lunch time, and Teri will be coming home tomorrow instead of Friday. I'll be really glad to have her home.
It has been a good week for me, though, a week of progress and growth, of applying the skills I'm learning in the ways I planned and adapting them to slightly different circumstances. Growth is good!
Have I mentioned that I'll be really glad to have Teri home?
It has been a good week for me, though, a week of progress and growth, of applying the skills I'm learning in the ways I planned and adapting them to slightly different circumstances. Growth is good!
Have I mentioned that I'll be really glad to have Teri home?
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