Being totally vulnerable here. I have been on anti-depressants for years. As long as I can remember, anxiety and negativity have been my shadows. The meds never quite got me to where I wanted to be, so a couple weeks ago my doctor recommended a new tactic: a mood stabilizer. With bipolar disorder in the family history, I decided to try it. (By the way, the decision to go on meds came after and has been accompanied by years of therapy, prayer, and attempts at lifestyle changes.)
The last week has been a nightmare. Yelling, crying, throwing things, traumatized children, the works. Yesterday, after another yelling match and mild physical tussle with my wonderfully strong-willed daughter (whose life companion is ADHD) and my increasingly assertive son, I started crying and apologizing, yet again. I started into a lengthy explanation of how my brain is not well and I am waiting for my special medicine to start working so I don't get upset so easily, etc.
My daughter stopped, looked at me with a look in her eyes I don't think I've ever seen before, and said "You're perfect."
I looked at her, and I must have had a question in my eyes because she went on: "I mean, sometimes you're not perfect but mostly you look perfect to me."
Take this from my story and others I've written about my children's perspective on my hair loss and life in general: If you're going to listen to anyone and take to heart what any other person says about you, let it be a child. We all know how innocently brutal children can be with their honest perceptions, but even with the flaws they see, they can name perfection when they see it. Their definition of perfection is so different from ours. Maybe I'm generalizing when really my moment with my daughter was unique--but I'm getting the feeling that kids are our best mirrors. Yes, we see the worst in ourselves reflected back through their hurts and shame. But that's something we all have to accept as-is. Because we also see reflected in their eyes a wonder at the capacity for love we all carry. We see a reflection of ourselves at our most carefree, our most dependent, and our most undiluted lovely.
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Friday, March 21, 2014
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 21
“You should not worry about the dings and the dongs, they are nothing but echoes.” -- Corrie Ten Boom
She was writing about forgiveness. When we are bound by wrongdoing, it's as if a/the devil were pulling on a loud, clanging bell. Once we receive forgiveness, the rope is let go. Any bell-like noise we may hear from then on is just the echo as the bell stops its swinging, no longer given momentum by an outside force but swinging, nonetheless.
Well, I am going to misappropriate this quote tonight. Even though it is Ash Wednesday, I am not going to write about forgiveness--I hardly feel qualified.
Instead, I am going to write about a freedom that operates much the same way. Actually, I should say "freedoms", because each reader will relate in a different way. So different, in fact, that I can't exactly name this freedom. But hopefully you will recognize it.
Have you ever had an obsessive crush on someone? The kind that keeps you up at night and causes you to routinely go out of your way in the hopes of crossing that person's path? You cry every night from the pain of knowing (for whatever reason) that you will never be with that person. But you move on, slowly. Maybe that person disappears from your life for some reason. Whatever the case, whatever the time frame, one day you realize that you haven't thought about that person all day. And at some point, you realize that even if you ran into that person you would not depart their company with that painful longing. You would, and will, be fine.
Or have you ever lived with a fear that you couldn't shake? The kind of fear that weakens your heart and deprives you of sleep, sucks all enjoyment from life, and saps strength from your body? You worry and worry about this thing and it becomes your constant companion, even as it moves from the front of your mind to the back...and to the front again. But you seek help: prayer, medication, counsel of friends, whatever it may be. And you mature. And one day, you are confronted with the very thing you feared, only to find that the fear slipped off your shoulders at some point. And you are free.
There are countless other situations like this, where something has a hold of you for so long that you begin to reference it when you give self-identifying information. And the release from it can come on gradually, like that bell that continues to ring after the rope has been let go. We may still hear the echoes, but essentially we are free. We may slip and act like it still has us in its grasp, but only out of habit mostly.
Today I was driving to the post office during my lunch break and I realized that I was content. I realized that I was living in total freedom from a couple things that used to plague me. And it was such a beautiful feeling! I knew it was total freedom because the knowledge of being set free did not spark any feeling of bereavement or temptation to go back to a familiar way of living. Total freedom. If I'm lucky, maybe even the echoes will have died out this time.
She was writing about forgiveness. When we are bound by wrongdoing, it's as if a/the devil were pulling on a loud, clanging bell. Once we receive forgiveness, the rope is let go. Any bell-like noise we may hear from then on is just the echo as the bell stops its swinging, no longer given momentum by an outside force but swinging, nonetheless.
Well, I am going to misappropriate this quote tonight. Even though it is Ash Wednesday, I am not going to write about forgiveness--I hardly feel qualified.
Instead, I am going to write about a freedom that operates much the same way. Actually, I should say "freedoms", because each reader will relate in a different way. So different, in fact, that I can't exactly name this freedom. But hopefully you will recognize it.
Have you ever had an obsessive crush on someone? The kind that keeps you up at night and causes you to routinely go out of your way in the hopes of crossing that person's path? You cry every night from the pain of knowing (for whatever reason) that you will never be with that person. But you move on, slowly. Maybe that person disappears from your life for some reason. Whatever the case, whatever the time frame, one day you realize that you haven't thought about that person all day. And at some point, you realize that even if you ran into that person you would not depart their company with that painful longing. You would, and will, be fine.
Or have you ever lived with a fear that you couldn't shake? The kind of fear that weakens your heart and deprives you of sleep, sucks all enjoyment from life, and saps strength from your body? You worry and worry about this thing and it becomes your constant companion, even as it moves from the front of your mind to the back...and to the front again. But you seek help: prayer, medication, counsel of friends, whatever it may be. And you mature. And one day, you are confronted with the very thing you feared, only to find that the fear slipped off your shoulders at some point. And you are free.
There are countless other situations like this, where something has a hold of you for so long that you begin to reference it when you give self-identifying information. And the release from it can come on gradually, like that bell that continues to ring after the rope has been let go. We may still hear the echoes, but essentially we are free. We may slip and act like it still has us in its grasp, but only out of habit mostly.
Today I was driving to the post office during my lunch break and I realized that I was content. I realized that I was living in total freedom from a couple things that used to plague me. And it was such a beautiful feeling! I knew it was total freedom because the knowledge of being set free did not spark any feeling of bereavement or temptation to go back to a familiar way of living. Total freedom. If I'm lucky, maybe even the echoes will have died out this time.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 18
Today I meditate on the beauty of grace. Of second (and third) chances.
I met a man named Pete today. Pete founded a company called Second Chance Coffee in Wheaton, IL. And it's not the coffee that needs a second chance--believe me, it's high quality. No, the "second chance" in the name refers to his employees. Pete hires, through a selective referral process, post-prison men and women to roast, package, sell and deliver his coffee.
The coffee has been branded "I Have a Bean". Without it, there would be seven more formerly incarcerated individuals trying to get back on their feet and reintegrate into productive society--and being barred at every turn.
The term "felon" probably evokes an image in your mind of a big, scary guy with tattoos and a scowl who is out to hurt you and your family--over and over again--unless we stop him by casting him out from our community.
But what if there were more to the story? What if this man, tattoos and all, made a mistake and had many valuable skills and a great personality?
In our society, certain mistakes carry longer-lasting consequences than others. I agree--obviously there are degrees to which people can get hurt, and there are corresponding degrees to which "offenders" need to be held responsible and make amends.
What I don't understand is why certain mistakes carry life-long sentences. Is there any mistake that one person should have to suffer with for the rest of their lives?
This is only the tip of the iceberg of this discussion. I know that. I'm not looking to spark any heated debates. I just want to introduce this unique organization as a model of grace and say that I think grace is absolutely beautiful.
I have made so many mistakes in life, some that have hurt others and some that have hurt only me. I depend on second, third, fourth (and on and on) chances all the time. I can't imagine trying to live my life if I had no access to those chances.
Check out www.ihaveabean.com and see how beautiful (and practical) redemption can actually be. And take a minute to meditate on the chances you have been given.
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