So I live in a part of the world where some toilets don't have seats...we refer to them as squatters, which tells you what you need to know. So I went into the only toilet in my workplace and thought, "oh crap!" Literally, someone had missed. Not terribly, but enough to be very apparent. I was wracked about what to do. This is the only toilet for men. If someone comes in and sees me leave, they'll assume I did it because I'm foreign and people assume we can't do this stuff right.
Maybe I could slip out quickly before anyone noticed, but if they came in and waited, I'd be screwed. If that happens, I'd have to point it out and say it wasn't me, which would look the more suspicious, so I'd be forced into an uncomfortable examination of the evidence to prove it wasn't me..."it isn't fresh, see". But then it might be worse if they just saw me leave because then I'd not be able to explain at all and they'd just assume, and there would be this background buzz that I could never be certain wasn't because they thought I was foul or incompetent...or incontinent, as the case may be. Even if it was just in my own head, I'd continually be wondering if that wasn't what they were thinking. And the culprit would certainly not downplay the assumption that it was the foreigner, if he didn't actively promote it, should it come up...or down as it were.
Maybe I could climb out the window and slip back in another way...but no, the office windows looked out on the same courtyard right beside that window along with other windows all around the court, and the foreigner climbing out the window would definitely be noticed. So that was out.
Cleaning products were in the closet right beside me, but again, what if someone came in and saw me digging through that closet...I'd be forced to explain, and there we go back into scenario 1.
All of this of course happened in milliseconds. That was when I looked around and noticed there was a toilet brush in the stall...why?...who cares! It was there! God bless it and God bless me, I was saved by a common $1.00 toilet brush! I fired up the flush and scrub that thing like my life depended on it...well at least my reputation...which was already in doubt after a medicine reaction made me nearly pass out for a moment a few weeks ago. It passed quickly, but nonetheless, I was forced to be carried through the facility on a stretcher despite my constant pleas that I was quite capable of walking.
But merciful God, thank you for that toilet brush. This is a silly story, though every word of it is true. And honestly, it reveals a vanity in me, which though common, is no less a vanity. But I am thankful for the small mercy.
One thing is certain: toilet brushes have now become a symbol of God's grace and provision. I'll never look at them the same way again.
Friday, November 16, 2018
Sunday, October 14, 2018
New World
I have not posted in a while because I moved around the world. Yes literally, I'm now in a timezone 13 hours from my previous. This move has not been easy and I was reluctant to do it. But here we are. Now it's about survivng, adapting, thriving. Which is doubtful right now. These kind of challenges are highly emotional and bring out underlying issues.
So why did I do it? Simply, I wanted to get out of the boat. I wanted to walk on the waves. Secondly, I wanted to change the story of the rich young ruler. I didn't want to look back on my life and know that when told what I needed to be perfect, I went away sad. No I literally gave most everything away and gave up my life for this purpose.
And it's kicking my butt. Work is pointless. I get paid well to do basically nothing and am treated politley as if I'm in the way most of the time or given zilly llittle things just so I don't totally do nothing. Sounds good? Yeah, try it awhile. Nowhere to hang your hat. Nothing to get up for in the morning. Then there's family. We are much more in each others' space here and I am so far the only one with a schedule to force me out. So when I get home there's two bored people starving for attention I don't have to give. Problems to solve, fears to assuage. My teen is the worst. Needier than when an infant, fully capable of stepping out more, but too scared to do it. And when I push him out of the nest she flies into a rage at me.
Then there's the worst part, our apartment, provided by my employer in an old wooden structure with upstairs neighbors that are extremely loud on the floor, like hours of pounding, dropping, falling. I don't even really know if they are that loud in terms of decibels. Objective evidence is hard to get, but in any case, I find myself getting more and more agitated as it goes on. Some noises send me over the edge and I break something or scream, or collapse into full panic attack. I shake, sweat, heart pounds. I thought I might have some latent PTSD. But the I read about misophonia, which is a neurological condition that causes these same reactions. Just perfect. Another rare and unheard of illness to confirm, cope with, and explain for the rest of my life. But it matches my history. I have always been very sensitive to overhead house noises and bass through walls. Like, if a neighbor has a stereo on, I have paced the floor for hours fighting the urge to go beat their door in and destroy the infernal machine. Now I'm trapped inside the machine and I can't take it.
I have started counseling and the therapist is recommending a psychiatrist...good luck way out here on the edge of the world. I talked to my employer and for cultural reasons I completely don't understand we can't get the people to be quiet. Though they may not physically be Bable to be quiet enough if I really do have a condition. So their idea to move us to a free standing quiet house is probably best. God, I'm hoping.
I even asked them if it would be easier just to let me go and I'd go home. But they didn't want to do that. We have a lead on a house, so please soon!
I don't know what I'm doing. I can't analyze or fix myself and I need lots of help to live here. I can completely understand why Peter feared and began to sink. I'm going down fast and can only say, "Lord, help me". You see there's no solid ground out here. It isn't all bad. There are points of grace and light, even some angels that don't know it. But this is hard to do.
So why did I do it? Simply, I wanted to get out of the boat. I wanted to walk on the waves. Secondly, I wanted to change the story of the rich young ruler. I didn't want to look back on my life and know that when told what I needed to be perfect, I went away sad. No I literally gave most everything away and gave up my life for this purpose.
And it's kicking my butt. Work is pointless. I get paid well to do basically nothing and am treated politley as if I'm in the way most of the time or given zilly llittle things just so I don't totally do nothing. Sounds good? Yeah, try it awhile. Nowhere to hang your hat. Nothing to get up for in the morning. Then there's family. We are much more in each others' space here and I am so far the only one with a schedule to force me out. So when I get home there's two bored people starving for attention I don't have to give. Problems to solve, fears to assuage. My teen is the worst. Needier than when an infant, fully capable of stepping out more, but too scared to do it. And when I push him out of the nest she flies into a rage at me.
Then there's the worst part, our apartment, provided by my employer in an old wooden structure with upstairs neighbors that are extremely loud on the floor, like hours of pounding, dropping, falling. I don't even really know if they are that loud in terms of decibels. Objective evidence is hard to get, but in any case, I find myself getting more and more agitated as it goes on. Some noises send me over the edge and I break something or scream, or collapse into full panic attack. I shake, sweat, heart pounds. I thought I might have some latent PTSD. But the I read about misophonia, which is a neurological condition that causes these same reactions. Just perfect. Another rare and unheard of illness to confirm, cope with, and explain for the rest of my life. But it matches my history. I have always been very sensitive to overhead house noises and bass through walls. Like, if a neighbor has a stereo on, I have paced the floor for hours fighting the urge to go beat their door in and destroy the infernal machine. Now I'm trapped inside the machine and I can't take it.
I have started counseling and the therapist is recommending a psychiatrist...good luck way out here on the edge of the world. I talked to my employer and for cultural reasons I completely don't understand we can't get the people to be quiet. Though they may not physically be Bable to be quiet enough if I really do have a condition. So their idea to move us to a free standing quiet house is probably best. God, I'm hoping.
I even asked them if it would be easier just to let me go and I'd go home. But they didn't want to do that. We have a lead on a house, so please soon!
I don't know what I'm doing. I can't analyze or fix myself and I need lots of help to live here. I can completely understand why Peter feared and began to sink. I'm going down fast and can only say, "Lord, help me". You see there's no solid ground out here. It isn't all bad. There are points of grace and light, even some angels that don't know it. But this is hard to do.
Monday, July 9, 2018
Mindscape
Today my son asked me a thought provoking question. As any reader of this blog knows, I am a naturally dark and therefore often angry person. But he is just getting to the age to see that. So as I mentioned some of my negative perceptions of things, he observed that I frequently see things like that and asked what the world must look like from inside my head.
While many may find this disheartening, I am so aware of this fact about myself that I did not run from it, but replied, "It's pretty dark in here." The question stuck with me though; how do I express it to people? What does the world look like to me? Some may paint in pictures, but I am much more capable in words, so I will try.
Like anyone, my internal landscape is varied and changes in its own seasons and weathers. And while I am in any one of those, it necessarily colors what the others look like. So the best I can give is the current conditions and climate with your understanding that it is not always so and may be themed quite differently at another juncture.
The skies here are often grey. Clouds roll thick and mists are common, ranging to dense fogs. The terrain is rugged with crags and sharp edged stones all around. Near peaks obscure large areas of vision. Air ranges in the hot humid arena but frequently dips into chilling cold.
Never far away is the barren windswept tableland of the tough-minded where no hint of green softness breaks the flat desolation until the sky meets it. Here are the hermits and ascetics, ever trying to rid themselves of the stains and distractions of the world while ever becoming harsher and more stone-like in their bearing for all their intention toward good.
Near there is the dense Mirkwood frought with demons and every kind of rending, demoralizing creature that feasts on the despair and self-loathing of its victims. They often range outside their haunts seeking to trick, trap or drag me into their lairs. But their favorite tactic is to build paths that innocenty wend through pleasanter lands until they unexpectedly end in the terrible mirk such that the unwary traveler will suddenly find himself in their clutches.
But it isn't all that bad. Sun does shine from time to time and I encounter delicate grottos of lush moss trickling with water and speckled with shimmering flowers and dappled light. I have seen vast deep oceans as slick as glass and raging like titans. Rain is often refreshing and mercifully frequent. And there are springs in the most unlikely places; some the tiniest bubbling, others strong enough to feed streams that water green vales under clear gentle skies. Here is where I most often have four legs and a cold nose. Here is where the Shepherd lives. Though he is always about in the harsher lands where I am on two feet and never far when I try to find him, or he needs to find me.
So this is the briefest sketch of my internal continent that shapes me, colors my actions and responses, and governs my decisions and opinions. I hope it sheds some light into who I am and why I am the way I am.
While many may find this disheartening, I am so aware of this fact about myself that I did not run from it, but replied, "It's pretty dark in here." The question stuck with me though; how do I express it to people? What does the world look like to me? Some may paint in pictures, but I am much more capable in words, so I will try.
Like anyone, my internal landscape is varied and changes in its own seasons and weathers. And while I am in any one of those, it necessarily colors what the others look like. So the best I can give is the current conditions and climate with your understanding that it is not always so and may be themed quite differently at another juncture.
The skies here are often grey. Clouds roll thick and mists are common, ranging to dense fogs. The terrain is rugged with crags and sharp edged stones all around. Near peaks obscure large areas of vision. Air ranges in the hot humid arena but frequently dips into chilling cold.
Never far away is the barren windswept tableland of the tough-minded where no hint of green softness breaks the flat desolation until the sky meets it. Here are the hermits and ascetics, ever trying to rid themselves of the stains and distractions of the world while ever becoming harsher and more stone-like in their bearing for all their intention toward good.
Near there is the dense Mirkwood frought with demons and every kind of rending, demoralizing creature that feasts on the despair and self-loathing of its victims. They often range outside their haunts seeking to trick, trap or drag me into their lairs. But their favorite tactic is to build paths that innocenty wend through pleasanter lands until they unexpectedly end in the terrible mirk such that the unwary traveler will suddenly find himself in their clutches.
But it isn't all that bad. Sun does shine from time to time and I encounter delicate grottos of lush moss trickling with water and speckled with shimmering flowers and dappled light. I have seen vast deep oceans as slick as glass and raging like titans. Rain is often refreshing and mercifully frequent. And there are springs in the most unlikely places; some the tiniest bubbling, others strong enough to feed streams that water green vales under clear gentle skies. Here is where I most often have four legs and a cold nose. Here is where the Shepherd lives. Though he is always about in the harsher lands where I am on two feet and never far when I try to find him, or he needs to find me.
So this is the briefest sketch of my internal continent that shapes me, colors my actions and responses, and governs my decisions and opinions. I hope it sheds some light into who I am and why I am the way I am.
Sunday, May 27, 2018
Fear
What is fear? We all feel it, but what is it? A feeling? More than a feeling, it can have physical manifestations that grow beyond what we can control. We have a hard time getting rid of it, so we avoid it, disguise it, find ways to convince ourselves it isn't fear.
Fear has to do with threat. This can be very credible, but most often is not. We perceive a threat rather than register a real one. Is it possible to live without fear? Many would say no. But I believe it's possible.
Fear has to do with perception, and threat. Perception is easily altered. Threat can only be dispelled in terms of consequence. If the threat is empty, it ceases to be a threat. What consequences? Pain of some kind and death. These are really the only two.
Death is not a fear for me. It truly isn't. I know that in death I will move beyond hurt. I will find peace. For long reasons I don't want to argue right now I am convinced of this. And if I'm wrong the only other possibility is that I cease to exist...which still places me beyond the reach of harm. If there is no life beyond death, then what's the point anyway. So no fear there.
But pain is more difficult. Physical pain can be intense prior to death. Emotional and mental pain can be debilitating. Yes, pain is what I fear at the root of all fears.
I need a way to lift above or beyond pain. I can't do this in myself. But God promises I will not be given more than I can bear. He says he keeps the steadfast in peace. He says he works for my good. The problem is if I believe it.
Yes, the root of fear is distrust. Can I trust God to lead me? Can I trust him to help me avoid pain? Do I need to experience pain so I can cease to fear it? Do I need to experience a place where my perception of safety and control are obliterated so I can trust more?
Why can I dive into the ocean, climb a mountain, run through the wilderness fearing nothing, but can't shake my trepidation at what lies ahead? Is this fear or prescient warning? If I'm wrong what happens? Something for my good. If I'm right what happens? Something good. Can I trust this? I want to trust this. I want to see it more than anything. I want to walk on the water. I want to tred the storm, face the lions, the flames, the giants with no fear.
God can I do this? Please give me a sign and the ability to understand it. Knock me on my butt with it because I'm dense. I want you. I don't want to fail. I'm about to free fall and God I hope you're there again.
Fear has to do with threat. This can be very credible, but most often is not. We perceive a threat rather than register a real one. Is it possible to live without fear? Many would say no. But I believe it's possible.
Fear has to do with perception, and threat. Perception is easily altered. Threat can only be dispelled in terms of consequence. If the threat is empty, it ceases to be a threat. What consequences? Pain of some kind and death. These are really the only two.
Death is not a fear for me. It truly isn't. I know that in death I will move beyond hurt. I will find peace. For long reasons I don't want to argue right now I am convinced of this. And if I'm wrong the only other possibility is that I cease to exist...which still places me beyond the reach of harm. If there is no life beyond death, then what's the point anyway. So no fear there.
But pain is more difficult. Physical pain can be intense prior to death. Emotional and mental pain can be debilitating. Yes, pain is what I fear at the root of all fears.
I need a way to lift above or beyond pain. I can't do this in myself. But God promises I will not be given more than I can bear. He says he keeps the steadfast in peace. He says he works for my good. The problem is if I believe it.
Yes, the root of fear is distrust. Can I trust God to lead me? Can I trust him to help me avoid pain? Do I need to experience pain so I can cease to fear it? Do I need to experience a place where my perception of safety and control are obliterated so I can trust more?
Why can I dive into the ocean, climb a mountain, run through the wilderness fearing nothing, but can't shake my trepidation at what lies ahead? Is this fear or prescient warning? If I'm wrong what happens? Something for my good. If I'm right what happens? Something good. Can I trust this? I want to trust this. I want to see it more than anything. I want to walk on the water. I want to tred the storm, face the lions, the flames, the giants with no fear.
God can I do this? Please give me a sign and the ability to understand it. Knock me on my butt with it because I'm dense. I want you. I don't want to fail. I'm about to free fall and God I hope you're there again.
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
Applied
Recently, I've been dealing with some serious decisions. I'm not going into them specifically. It's more about how I'm making them and facing them.
It is stretching me in some ways I hadn't noticed needed stretching. That's when the story of Jesus and the Rich Young Ruler came to mind. I realized this is my story right now. I'm that guy.
The story is that a wealthy young man came up to Jesus and, calling him Teacher, asks what he has to do to receive eternal life. Jesus says, "You know the commandments." To which the man replies, "I've done all that since I was a kid." Obviously not convinced this would do it for him. Jesus looks on him with affection at this and says, "You still lack one thing (one version says, "if you would be perfect"): sell everything you own and give to the poor, so you'll have treasure in heaven, then take up your cross and follow me." The man goes away sad at this because it says he had great wealth.
A couple things jump out to me. One, the guy really wants to know. He came to find Jesus and he knows keeping the rules is good, but he needs more. Jesus realizes this and loves the guy for it. Jesus isn't being dismissive or argumentative. So I think he tells him what he really needs to do. But the guy is obviously struggling with how to do it.
Here's the thing. I'm being faced with this exact choice. While I'm certainly not rich by American standards, I am above the median in my area and worldwide, that's in the untouchable category. I lack nothing material. I can afford anything I want within stretch of reason. I'm far better off than many people around me. But I'm faced with an opportunity that will require me to sell everything I own and leave this life.
So I know what this guy was feeling. I have everything we're taught to strive for. Everything we're told is a blessing. I have a great stable job, in my field, with lots of freedom and good benefits. I have no debt and my kid's college is totally paid for. I could sit back and save up, travel, do good with my money, and retire comfortably into a life where I could do the good work I want to do fulltime...of course none of this is certain, but barring unforeseen changes, it'll happen. But here I have this choice foisted in my lap. I have asked Jesus to make me like him. To perfect me. And here I have the same dang choice. Family is on board, advisors are on board, friends are on board. I'm just reluctant to give up this stuff, the security of material things and familiar ways. What if I'm wrong? What if this or that happens? But at the root, I know what I'm worried about.
You see, I'm this guy! Jesus has just said, "You can stay, you know the commandments, you have lived it; do that." But I'm still not satisfied and I asked the question, half afraid of the answer...and I got the blasted answer. If I want to be perfect, I have to sell all my possessions (or give them away) and step into this life which is no slouchy opportunity and quite an honor at my age, but potentially much less materially lucrative and less stable. I've counted the cost. It's not totally unknown to me. But what if...what will I be capable of? what kind of life will open up to me? Maybe the life of adventure and discovery I've dreamed of. Maybe a life of peace and goodness I never thought actually possible. Maybe a disaster that burns away all my dross and refines me into polished folded steel, a true Glass Dog. I'll never know if I don't go.
So here's the thing. The story ends there. We don't know what the guy did. But if he is me, I can imagine he thought about it just like I am. We are of one mind here in some mystical way, I'm sure. I know I'm loved, that's why Jesus offered me this opportunity. It is building that one thing I lack in me. How much do I want it? Will I sell everything to buy the pearl of great price, to mix in another story? When I see it like this, this strange feeling overcomes me and from deep inside my soul jumps up and yells, "Here I am, SEND ME!" Yes! I want to go! I want to do it. I am a follower of Jesus, not in name only, but in heart and action. I have to. What else can I do? I asked to get out of the boat and deuce if he didn't say, "Come." And I'm standing here like, "Well that wasn't what I expected." And he's saying, "Did you think I wasn't serious? Did you think I wasn't real? You don't have to. Take the blue pill and all is well, I won't even mention it. But if you want to be perfect..."
Good God, I'm coming! Don't let me fall! I'm about to walk on water.
It is stretching me in some ways I hadn't noticed needed stretching. That's when the story of Jesus and the Rich Young Ruler came to mind. I realized this is my story right now. I'm that guy.
The story is that a wealthy young man came up to Jesus and, calling him Teacher, asks what he has to do to receive eternal life. Jesus says, "You know the commandments." To which the man replies, "I've done all that since I was a kid." Obviously not convinced this would do it for him. Jesus looks on him with affection at this and says, "You still lack one thing (one version says, "if you would be perfect"): sell everything you own and give to the poor, so you'll have treasure in heaven, then take up your cross and follow me." The man goes away sad at this because it says he had great wealth.
A couple things jump out to me. One, the guy really wants to know. He came to find Jesus and he knows keeping the rules is good, but he needs more. Jesus realizes this and loves the guy for it. Jesus isn't being dismissive or argumentative. So I think he tells him what he really needs to do. But the guy is obviously struggling with how to do it.
Here's the thing. I'm being faced with this exact choice. While I'm certainly not rich by American standards, I am above the median in my area and worldwide, that's in the untouchable category. I lack nothing material. I can afford anything I want within stretch of reason. I'm far better off than many people around me. But I'm faced with an opportunity that will require me to sell everything I own and leave this life.
So I know what this guy was feeling. I have everything we're taught to strive for. Everything we're told is a blessing. I have a great stable job, in my field, with lots of freedom and good benefits. I have no debt and my kid's college is totally paid for. I could sit back and save up, travel, do good with my money, and retire comfortably into a life where I could do the good work I want to do fulltime...of course none of this is certain, but barring unforeseen changes, it'll happen. But here I have this choice foisted in my lap. I have asked Jesus to make me like him. To perfect me. And here I have the same dang choice. Family is on board, advisors are on board, friends are on board. I'm just reluctant to give up this stuff, the security of material things and familiar ways. What if I'm wrong? What if this or that happens? But at the root, I know what I'm worried about.
You see, I'm this guy! Jesus has just said, "You can stay, you know the commandments, you have lived it; do that." But I'm still not satisfied and I asked the question, half afraid of the answer...and I got the blasted answer. If I want to be perfect, I have to sell all my possessions (or give them away) and step into this life which is no slouchy opportunity and quite an honor at my age, but potentially much less materially lucrative and less stable. I've counted the cost. It's not totally unknown to me. But what if...what will I be capable of? what kind of life will open up to me? Maybe the life of adventure and discovery I've dreamed of. Maybe a life of peace and goodness I never thought actually possible. Maybe a disaster that burns away all my dross and refines me into polished folded steel, a true Glass Dog. I'll never know if I don't go.
So here's the thing. The story ends there. We don't know what the guy did. But if he is me, I can imagine he thought about it just like I am. We are of one mind here in some mystical way, I'm sure. I know I'm loved, that's why Jesus offered me this opportunity. It is building that one thing I lack in me. How much do I want it? Will I sell everything to buy the pearl of great price, to mix in another story? When I see it like this, this strange feeling overcomes me and from deep inside my soul jumps up and yells, "Here I am, SEND ME!" Yes! I want to go! I want to do it. I am a follower of Jesus, not in name only, but in heart and action. I have to. What else can I do? I asked to get out of the boat and deuce if he didn't say, "Come." And I'm standing here like, "Well that wasn't what I expected." And he's saying, "Did you think I wasn't serious? Did you think I wasn't real? You don't have to. Take the blue pill and all is well, I won't even mention it. But if you want to be perfect..."
Good God, I'm coming! Don't let me fall! I'm about to walk on water.
Monday, April 9, 2018
Burning
**NOTE: this blog is real and raw. Changing or omitting names won't protect identities of people referenced. So I employ pronoun swapping to further confuse identity. This blog is NEVER a slam to individuals, but a means of processing ideas.**
I have not posted in a while because of something I was going to write about, but just recently something happened that has upset me and I'm burning about it. So I will write it out. Then maybe I'll be free to process the other stuff.
I think the biggest thing that gets under my skin is lack of respect. You might think this odd coming from a punk, they not being known for respect. But the truth is, punks are actually very big on respect. In fact, it's such a big deal that we refuse to pay false respect. It must be earned. If you set yourself up over someone else, we're going to call you down. And that is the crux of the problem, really.
Respect is about boundaries. People who take liberties tread all over those boundaries. Some people just never seem capable of understanding another's point of view. But there again, that's what respect is for. You don't have to understand. Just follow the rules of general politeness and all is good.
You see, I have this old friend that I was once very close to, in fact closer than my own sibling. He had shown me some generosity that makes me feel somewhat indebted even over a decade later. But early on, it was clear certain people she was related to had no idea about personal boundaries and I would not get along with that person. I mean serious leech personality, like barging into your house uninvited, refusing to leave when I repeatedly told them I had to leave myself, expecting us to do things without asking, forcing my friend to be 2 hours late for a 2 hour event that the other was not invited to, etc.
But that's ok. We don't have to like everyone our friends like. The problem is that my friend eventually became inseparable from this negative influence, probably from good motives. I tried to advise him about the negative changes I was seeing in her, but he made it very clear that my advice was not appreciated. So I backed off and we lost all serious contact for about a decade.
Then she shows up again like nothing has changed...leech now fully affixed such that the two are never apart...ever. And as you'd expect, my friend has now taken on many of those negative traits, interrupting conversations and then monopolizing them. Ordering people around. Insisting on uncomfortable topics. Once, he invited himself and leech to a party neither were invited to intentionally because of the leech, then made a scene at the party in front of everyone asking if they weren't supposed to be there, and when we tried to just side step it saying, "you're here now." They both proceeded to start altering things like music, temperature, etc. in a rented facility. And when we refused to comply, they went to get staff to do it. Which was where I put my foot down and leech waited outside for a few minutes until my friend finally couldn't take it and left.
So fine, whatever, right? But through a remnant of old relationship, this friend became privy to some personal information about my family. Which she then of course told Leech. So for the past couple months Leech has kept insisting on "advising" us about it, openly in public. We've downplayed, we've walked away, we've even told them straight out to stop before this information gets out and causes unnecessary problems for us and for others.
The last straw came this week when Leech accosted my son about it in public and wouldn't let go. I didn't know at the time. But upon finding out, I had to confront them. I tried to do it privately, avoiding unnecessary embarrassment, sticking to the topic at hand and not old issues, etc. But then my friend's response was something along the lines of, they hadn't told anyone and it must just be a game of telephone gone wrong, but while we're on the topic, we know you're afraid, but that's why you shouldn't have secrets."
BOOM!!! I went through the roof! It's a good thing this came in writing or I'd have had it out with them for sure. I couldn't have controlled myself and I would have verbally laid them out as all the pent frustration gushed out.
They couldn't be more wrong about my concern nor could they have missed the point any further! They don't get to make a judgement on this! Not accepted! And then they were clueless enough to ask if they could come to another event I was doing. Not even, "is it still ok." Just, "how do we sign up!"
So after multiple attempts to respond, I finally went with something to the effect of here's the line. Don't cross it, or I will not hesitate to let them know in open and certain terms. I have severed ties with these people to the greatest degree that I can. But I have no doubt, they won't get it and they'll come prancing in to some event as if nothing is wrong.
Good God! Help me forgive this because right now, I have no desire to.
I have not posted in a while because of something I was going to write about, but just recently something happened that has upset me and I'm burning about it. So I will write it out. Then maybe I'll be free to process the other stuff.
I think the biggest thing that gets under my skin is lack of respect. You might think this odd coming from a punk, they not being known for respect. But the truth is, punks are actually very big on respect. In fact, it's such a big deal that we refuse to pay false respect. It must be earned. If you set yourself up over someone else, we're going to call you down. And that is the crux of the problem, really.
Respect is about boundaries. People who take liberties tread all over those boundaries. Some people just never seem capable of understanding another's point of view. But there again, that's what respect is for. You don't have to understand. Just follow the rules of general politeness and all is good.
You see, I have this old friend that I was once very close to, in fact closer than my own sibling. He had shown me some generosity that makes me feel somewhat indebted even over a decade later. But early on, it was clear certain people she was related to had no idea about personal boundaries and I would not get along with that person. I mean serious leech personality, like barging into your house uninvited, refusing to leave when I repeatedly told them I had to leave myself, expecting us to do things without asking, forcing my friend to be 2 hours late for a 2 hour event that the other was not invited to, etc.
But that's ok. We don't have to like everyone our friends like. The problem is that my friend eventually became inseparable from this negative influence, probably from good motives. I tried to advise him about the negative changes I was seeing in her, but he made it very clear that my advice was not appreciated. So I backed off and we lost all serious contact for about a decade.
Then she shows up again like nothing has changed...leech now fully affixed such that the two are never apart...ever. And as you'd expect, my friend has now taken on many of those negative traits, interrupting conversations and then monopolizing them. Ordering people around. Insisting on uncomfortable topics. Once, he invited himself and leech to a party neither were invited to intentionally because of the leech, then made a scene at the party in front of everyone asking if they weren't supposed to be there, and when we tried to just side step it saying, "you're here now." They both proceeded to start altering things like music, temperature, etc. in a rented facility. And when we refused to comply, they went to get staff to do it. Which was where I put my foot down and leech waited outside for a few minutes until my friend finally couldn't take it and left.
So fine, whatever, right? But through a remnant of old relationship, this friend became privy to some personal information about my family. Which she then of course told Leech. So for the past couple months Leech has kept insisting on "advising" us about it, openly in public. We've downplayed, we've walked away, we've even told them straight out to stop before this information gets out and causes unnecessary problems for us and for others.
The last straw came this week when Leech accosted my son about it in public and wouldn't let go. I didn't know at the time. But upon finding out, I had to confront them. I tried to do it privately, avoiding unnecessary embarrassment, sticking to the topic at hand and not old issues, etc. But then my friend's response was something along the lines of, they hadn't told anyone and it must just be a game of telephone gone wrong, but while we're on the topic, we know you're afraid, but that's why you shouldn't have secrets."
BOOM!!! I went through the roof! It's a good thing this came in writing or I'd have had it out with them for sure. I couldn't have controlled myself and I would have verbally laid them out as all the pent frustration gushed out.
They couldn't be more wrong about my concern nor could they have missed the point any further! They don't get to make a judgement on this! Not accepted! And then they were clueless enough to ask if they could come to another event I was doing. Not even, "is it still ok." Just, "how do we sign up!"
So after multiple attempts to respond, I finally went with something to the effect of here's the line. Don't cross it, or I will not hesitate to let them know in open and certain terms. I have severed ties with these people to the greatest degree that I can. But I have no doubt, they won't get it and they'll come prancing in to some event as if nothing is wrong.
Good God! Help me forgive this because right now, I have no desire to.
Sunday, February 25, 2018
This is why
Today I saw a middle-aged man who had lost more than 100 pounds to cancer. He was aged beyond recognition and so weak he could not stand for long. He walked with a slow shuffling gait. He used to play guitar in the band at his church and was back on the stage today.
He had to sit in a chair as the guitar slunk almost flat on his lap. Arms that were no thicker than the neck of the guitar worked to play in a way that used to be effortless as breathing.
At one point in a song he was so moved he slumped forward almost double. The guitar fell off his lap and hung like a punk bassist. He kept playing. When he looked up his eyes glistened.
I don't really know this man. I don't know his story or his beliefs. I just know it isn't likely he'll live and if he does it will be a very different life from what he's known. But for all that. For all his disappointment, fear, and suffering. For all his potential misunderstandings, flaws, false beliefs. In that moment, it was clear that he knew where his need and his hope and his courage lied.
And I call this man a brother. This is why I'm a Christian.
He had to sit in a chair as the guitar slunk almost flat on his lap. Arms that were no thicker than the neck of the guitar worked to play in a way that used to be effortless as breathing.
At one point in a song he was so moved he slumped forward almost double. The guitar fell off his lap and hung like a punk bassist. He kept playing. When he looked up his eyes glistened.
I don't really know this man. I don't know his story or his beliefs. I just know it isn't likely he'll live and if he does it will be a very different life from what he's known. But for all that. For all his disappointment, fear, and suffering. For all his potential misunderstandings, flaws, false beliefs. In that moment, it was clear that he knew where his need and his hope and his courage lied.
And I call this man a brother. This is why I'm a Christian.
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