Category Archives: fear

Let’s Hear it for the Delusion that We Can Bring Order out of Chaos

Well, you know how some cultures take their shoes off at the door? I am starting a new Elder American Custom: Take off your glasses at my door. I don’t wear my glasses at home much. This works for me, because I can’t see the dust bunnies, the odd dead bug or dollop of jelly on the floors. And since most of my friends are also at the stage of life that requires glasses to notice small stuff, this new custom should allow me to maintain my laissez faire attitude toward house work while not having to hide in total silence in a darkened apartment when someone knocks at my door.
But, today, I am doing what I always do when my life feels like it is spinning out of control with disasters lurking around every corner. I am cleaning out the cabinets and the fridge. This is not house work. This is about bringing order out of chaos. This is about restoring some of the delusion that I am in control of something, however unimportant, in my life.
I never learn. I was determined last week to have enough carb free food for us when I was going to be down from my knee surgery. Well, I didn’t take into consideration that when under stress, Julian and I eat only high carb junk food and baked goods or that Julian would be the one running to the store for the one or two things I forgot. So, today I am throwing out week old beautiful chicken salad, cream cheese with olives and pecans mix for sandwiches for Julian, and some leftover chile without beans for me. So sad. So stupid! I have eaten more carbs in the last week than in the last two months! And enjoyed every single crumb, even the ones off the counters.
Well, I am recovered after sitting down for a bit, so back to enforcing law and order in my cabinets. I found some seasonings which expired in 2012. Also, found some things that don’t expire until 2020. I figure that may well be beyond my own expiration date!
All prayers and caring thoughts gratefully appreciated for my husband, Julian, who is having a lung biopsy tomorrow and my youngest son, Tommy, the father of four daughters who is having heart tests today prior to possibly having to get a pace-maker.

Pain Focuses Us on Ourselves, but Also on the Present Moment

Just had knee surgery for a torn meniscus. At the same time, a suspicious spot was discovered in my husband’s lung. And my youngest son, the father of four, discovered that his heart rate has become alarmingly low. Both of them are seeing specialists tomorrow. Yesterday, the pain in my knee finally stopped and I resumed my normal habit of worrying about the future, particularly about those I love. I knew that pain makes us self-centered, but I had never thought about how much it keeps us focused on the present moment. This may seem obvious and not particularly significant, but psychological pain does the same thing. It not only makes us self centered, but may be part of the reason that people get trapped in destructive patterns of behavior. They can’t focus on future consequences when overwhelmed by present pain.
I am not sure where this train of thought is going, but it helps me understand and be a little more patient with those who get trapped in repetitive patterns of poor choices.

Meanwhile, if you are into prayer, please include my husband Julian and my son, Tommy. Thanks so much.
Eileen

Inch Worms on the Plateau of Realism

I feel very sure just about everyone has blind spots or crazy spots in their personality. They come with the territory of being a human. I think they come with everyone’s DNA, but often, if not always, are intensified by experiences or lack of experiences in our impressionable youth.

One of my particular personality type’s blind spots is idealism, which is not bad if balanced with enough common sense. But unfortunately that seems to come to some of us very late in life. So, we develop survival mechanisms to minimize the pain of constant disappointment and frustration with the world, including with ourselves.

Some of us pick an idealistic goal in a particular area and simply focus on it with total tunnel vision while pouring all our energies into it. Unfortunately, eventually most of us either burn out or catch on that we can only inch toward ideals in this flawed and very unfinished world.

Others of us latch on pretty early to the pleasure principle….pleasures block pain…..so we eat, drink and make out with Mary or Harry. Eventually this either kills us, destroys our relationships or gets us run out of town, so we too are challenged to face the pitiful little realities of human existence.

So down deep many of us fear that what is actually driving us is congenital insanity. Naturally, we’d rather cling to an addiction, which we assure ourselves is either a virtue or else something that we could always get over, than face our fear that we are crazy. Because being crazy might not be something we are able to do anything about. Maybe all the world’s pills and all the world’s doctors couldn’t put our tiny cracked selves together again.

If we are lucky enough (or blessed) to find a source of love –  just as we are, we  can become able to bear the pain of disillusionment about ourselves and thus the rest of the world. Then most of us, after settling only temporarily in the valley of cynicism, will find our way to a reasonably satisfying existence as inch worms on the plateau of realism.

Mirrors

I look into your eyes
to find myself.
I see my cheerful smile
spread to your lips.
I see me giving you
the support and affection
of my friendship.
I see my vibrant image
reflected there
in your admiration
and attraction.
I see myself glow
as you respond
with appreciation
of my wisdom.
Your shining mirror eyes
lavishly affirm me.
Yet, I still hungrily
seek other eyes
to frame these pictures
carefully chosen
to convince me of
my worldly value.
So, I search the many
eyes around me,
but I always only
see myself.

Hungers of the Heart by Richard Watts

WHEN LOVE BREAKS THROUGH, WE ARE SUDDENLY ABLE TO ACCEPT OUR WEAKNESSES AND FAULTS WITHOUT COMING UNGLUED.

“Hungers of the Heart” by Richard Watts.

 

Watt quotes David James Duncan, who tells about his search that finally brought him to hollowing out a place in his heart about the size of a thimble. Duncan continues, “When I was twenty, in India one day, I turned to God with embarrassed sincerity and said, ‘ Would you care to fill this little thimble with anything?’ and instantaneously, -almost absurdly really, – an undeniable, unimaginable, indescribable lake of peace and love landed on my head in reply.”

Watts continues: “This experience that Christians call grace breaks into the anxiety, confusion and self-doubt that trouble us and frees us to journey along a path toward becoming a real self. ….It need not be as sudden or dramatic as Duncan’s. We need not be “born again;” we live in God’s grace simply by virtue of having been born. Whether for us a breakthrough comes as we look up to the stars, ponder the mysteries of DNA, find someone who loves us, help heal another’s hurt, take a risk for justice, (recognize our limits and helplessness, hit bottom, are forgiven by someone we have harmed* my additions) the experience of being accepted restores us to our real selves.

The paradox is this: that when love breaks through, we are suddenly able to accept our weakness and faults without coming unglued.

We come to accept that even our best impulses are tainted by self-interest, that we pretend to know more than we really know, and to “have it all together” when we really don’t. We begin to see that our strengths are really also our pitfalls: ambition that enables us to achieve can result in a stunted personal life with little time for love and friendship, the pride that allows us to walk in dignity may also keep us from acknowledging our mistakes; the charm that opens doors for us may lapse into shallowness on which we depend without seeking deepening, growth and newness; the intellect in which we trust may mask a denial of the emotions, which one day erupt in us in discomfiting force. (Our tendency to respond to life emotionally may help us understand and reach out to those who are suffering, but since emotions are short term, we may make our choices based on them with consequences that are destructive in the long run.* my addition )

The wonder of grace is that we are increasingly able to see ourselves as we really are without despair.”

And that is the first step to becoming free to grow and change in ways that give us more balanced, appropriate and grace-filled responses to life.

 

Face Book and Politics

Politics seems to make people fair game for personal attack. I don’t remember attacking Laura Bush, Barbara Bush, Nancy Reagan, etc., so I don’t understand the kind of viciousness about Michele, or even Hilary who actually is a politician, that comes out of people that I thought were reasonably kind. I don’t understand the kind of viciousness that politics brings out period. Sometimes it seems like people can’t find anything to be for, so they just attack people. Politics brings out fear in me, because I become so aware of the human fallibility of everyone involved. But that makes me want to pray, not attack the people who may end up with the weight of the world on their shoulders. The friendship and cooperation of ex-presidents Bush and Clinton makes me realize how it should be. I try very very hard not to judge people since I’m so very imperfect myself. But what happens to me when I read the attacks by my face book friends on people none of us even really know, immediately the flaws I know about in the people making the attacks come to mind. I mostly have relatives and fairly close friends on my face book page, I love and care about them and I try very hard to focus on their virtues and strengths even while not pretending that they or I am perfect. I don’t want to read things that focus me on their human flaws. I hope this explains why I either hide things on face book or when they get so profuse that I feel battered after going on face book, I start to consider un friending. I would hate to have to give up face book, which has given me the joy of daily seeing photos of grandchildren, even ones living far away, and keeping up with what’s happening with my family and friends. I have this blog where I can express my opinions and even though connections to this are on my face book page, no one needs to go to my blog unless they want my opinions. Maybe it would be a good idea for everyone to get a blog for their political opinions during election years and leave face book for happier and kinder fare.

Anatomy of Addiction

Why do some people choose self-destructive addictions?

Some people are just born unsettled, ill at ease with themselves, expecting so much that eventually they just throw in the towel. The pain of failure is too great.

Any addiction in some way lessens our sense of inadequacy. Extreme-housecleaning or obsession with becoming the absolute best in a sport to the detriment of the rest of our lives gives temporary relief; pleasure such as food, drink, sex, escapist reading or watching TV all can deflect us from facing our fears about ourselves. Some of us become addicted to drama by overreacting emotionally to anything even slightly alarming as an excuse to curl up emotionally in a fetal position and expect others to rescue us from any real or imagined dangers.  And any of these can move from just a way to relieve stress or feel better about ourselves to a need, an automatic response to unease or pain or fear: an addiction.

Some psychological addictions can be as hard to break as ones that develop a physical component. Some of us simply have addictive tendencies and may just have to work to find one that has the least self-destructive side effects and has the least negative fallout for others.
We can find relief in many acceptable ways to keep our demons at bay. I simply don’t know if we can get perfectly free of them.

One thing I have realized is that some of us not only feel basically inadequate, we fear that we are literally broken and live with a sense that we may at any time fall into the pit of despair or insanity.

Even alcoholism seems preferable to that, because there’s always a hope that you can manage to quit drinking, but you are not sure that you can quit being crazy once you get too out of control. Sometimes the only way to get past that is to go down into your inner bottomless pit and survive. Then instead of Jell-O at your center, you find a rock to stand on. Some of us call that God.

Total Humiliation or Radical Risk Taking Faith?

Recently in a two week period, I was scheduled to lead Worship Service on the first Sunday, give a presentation to a group of retired teachers during the following week, read the Scriptures for the next Sunday service and then give a different presentation to another group of teachers. All of these in some way included some sort of testimony to the presence of God in our small ordinary lives.
I enjoy both the preparation and presentation for all of these kinds of things, so I was happily gathering material and pulling it together on the computer prior to printing it.
The last presentation involved collecting and printing photographs for visuals to accompany the text. Mid-way in preparing these, my computer became very erratic, sometimes slowing down to a crawl, sometimes losing the material, and then the printer began to stop after a few lines and go to the next page, then eventually to shadow print the text in different colors.
By the day before the last presentation, I was a basket case and my husband had to take time off work to rescue me using his computer.
I had for a couple of months been having sporadic gushing nosebleeds lasting up to two hours. In desperation, two days before the last presentation, my ENT had done an extreme cauterization in my nose, which stopped the bleeding but left my nose dripping so much that I had to tie a bandanna around my head to keep my nose from dripping on the materials I was collating.
As I was picturing trying to give a talk wearing a bandanna wrapped around my head and under my nose, my sinus problem and probably stress set off inner ear dizziness and nausea. This became so severe that periodically I was having to lie down to keep from falling or vomiting.
The stress from this then triggered my Irritable Bowel Syndrome, sending me to the bathroom multiple times at warp speed. At seventy-seven, I also tend to have bladder problems when I cough or sneeze or laugh, so as the day wore on I began to consider all the possibilities for total humiliation and to wonder if God was possibly telling me to not give this presentation.
So, I sat down with my Book of Daily Devotions to check out what the one for the next day might say. This sentence immediately stood out, “God honors those with radical risk taking faith.”
My first thoughts were of my grandson teaching in Afghanistan and my son teaching orphans who are HIV positive in Cambodia. My presentation was about the orphans and the volunteers from all over the world that come to help them.  Then it dawned on me. Surely, risking spurting blood, dripping mucus, falling down or vomiting, or possibly even peeing or pooping in public while giving a talk about helping the helpless qualifies, at least, as risk taking faith.
So, I trusted God enough to go ahead with the presentation, but hedged my bets by not eating or drinking anything before hand and clutching one of my husband’s large white handkerchiefs the whole time I was speaking.

I do believe.  Help thou my unbelief.

Tunnel of Fear

Check out the blog, Raising 5 Kids with Disabilities and Remaining Sane’s post “I Drive Like a Horse in Central Park.”
Same theme, more explicit and touching.

Eileen's avatarLaughter: Carbonated Grace

Homing through a frost
of silent shooting stars,
the blowing icy flow
of winter’s crystal breath,
my car lights tunnel
through its frozen milky way.

Suddenly, I glimpse a shadow,
a hitcher thinly coated
with the jacketed nonchalance
of adolescent bravado,
James Dean image not quite masking
the soft edges of his youth.

A fragile hope flickers
at my moment’s hesitation,
then quickly disappears
behind me in the night.
My “Good Samaritan” – extinct,
afraid of death – dead of fright.

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Saved or Loved? Need or Love?

More retro posts…..Sometimes I need reminders….a touch of spiritual Alzheimer’s?

Eileen's avatarLaughter: Carbonated Grace

Words have such different meaning for each of us. I’m not very comfortable with “saved.” For one, it sounds like I’m finished, so why am I stuck here? For two, it sounds like now I belong to the in crowd, instead of the rest of the human race. I never was much on being with the in crowd, because it seemed to require trading my individuality for a false sense of pride or security.

To me the message of Jesus was: Humanity is loved unconditionally. Loved unconditionally means you are of eternal value…..it is not a short term thing.

If I’m loved unconditionally, then why wouldn’t I just do whatever I feel like doing?

Because once I experienced that kind of love that is beyond human understanding, it changed everything. Nothing else comes close to that joy….no pleasure, no fame, no drug, not even a parent or spouse’s love. Life…

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