Last weekend was the best and worst of times. Beginnings and endings. Laughter and tears.
As is often the case with the tug and tumult of extremes, some convergence and discovery emerged.
Friday we went to a party for a friend who quit her job to spend the summer in Europe. Not a terribly sad occasion--we're not exceptionally close friends and she will be back in August--but we wanted to support her in this big decision she's made. At the party we met some very interesting people, like Chris the video animation technician and Philip, the British computer programmer who lives in our neighborhood and walks his dog past our house.
After bidding our host farewell and making our way home, we ended up in an impromptu party on our back patio with the next-door-neighbors and their houseguests: two new journalist friends from Florida, who were in town for a wedding. Apparently everyone found the conversation sufficiently stimulating, since we didn't call it a night until about 1:00AM. Somewhere over the course of the evening the topic of inappropriate touching came up.
A physical education teacher at our neighborhood elementary school has been charged with sexual misconduct with students, and the principal is facing charges for not reporting the accusations in a timely manner. I have no position on the allegations, but there are some who are claiming that the charges are exaggerated or false. We all agreed that if it's true, the guy should have terrible things done to him; but if his life and career are ruined over false reports, it's a shame that has a long reach.
"With this kind of thing going on, why would anyone ever become a teacher?" asked Neighbor Matt. "The risk seems too great."
Everyone agreed that even for educators of the highest integrity the stakes have gotten terribly high. Every move and every word is scrutinized to the point that even the slightest miscalculation might cost you everything. As parents, all of us recognize the importance of protecting our children; but what happens to the quality of teachers, when the unsupported claims of children are allowed to destroy the adults who have committed so much to the shaping of young minds?
But what about copywriters and urban developers? Preachers and mechanics? Attorneys and carpenters? Don't we all have the threat of litigation hanging over us all the time? One wrong move, and game over. Unfortunately, some people don't fear the risk because they don't care. They are the problem. They sexually harass their employees and create unsafe work environments with little regard for the well-being of others. I'm not talking about assholes like that. I'm talking about the majority of folks who desire to do good.
I guess the question becomes this: Will you live your life in fear, or will you take your chances? What are we really afraid of? Are we afraid of incarceration or financial penalty? Humiliation and inconvenience? Or, are we afraid that our wretchedness will find us out? Most of us, if we are honest, recognize that there are plenty of reasons for us to suffer accusations. Our love is not pure. At least on some higher level, we are usually due a cosmic pounding. We aren't really afraid of the social consequences, we are afraid of our own inability to love recklessly.
"Perfect love casts out fear." Okay, I didn't say it to my friends on the patio, but I did say something like it.
"It seems to me that we have two choices: Live in fear and deny ourselves and others a relationship that is full of honesty and passion, or we can cast care to the wind, love people with all our hearts, and hope for the best."
That seemed to make sense to my friends. They are smart people, their decision to be my friend notwithstanding.
But, why is it so hard for us? Why is it so hard to embrace the one thing that liberates us and heals us, binds us together and gives us peace? Why is it so hard for us to love like that? Sin. That's what sin is about. It's not about having a drink, a smoke, a chew, or runnin' around with girls who do. It's about resisting the power of grace, the power of love to absolutely blow our minds and transform our relationships from antagonistic, competitive equations to nurturing, empowering entanglings of spirit and bone.
So, I went to the wedding the next day. Haven't seen that much seersucker, khaki, linen, dixieland jazz, and mint julip in one place since the last time I stepped into a J. Crew catalog. It was beautiful and joyful to see so many people celebrating unconditional love. I tried to not guard myself in conversation too much, but to give the love that we are all clearly desperate for. I failed much of the time. It is difficult to change our nature.
Perhaps the place we should all begin is the relationship closest to us. If we can love without fear in that place, we can start to build a critical mass that spreads. So, I am trying to give more comfort to my wife. Last weekend she was profoundly sad as she began packing her things and planning her departure from the school that was forced into closure. She's coming out the other side of her loss, and I pray that her happiness will be fully restored.
Saturday, I attended the University's commencement exercises Saturday morning. Immediately after shedding the sweat-soaked cap and gown, I had to deliver my friend, Dr. F, the embattled theater professor, to his moving van and watch him drive away to his new position.
It's always hard when friends leave. But, particularly difficult when they really get the "perfect love casts out fear" idea. Dr. F was unafraid. He refused to buy the company line and modify his behavior, scared it would cost him. The result: He left a legacy of students, and a few faculty, who will likely be a little more loving and reckless in their relationships.
To Dr. F, and Dr. H, who also walked away for good last weekend, and to all of us who are learning how to get beyond the fear: May you teach, trade, write, research, plant, build, defend, prosecute, proclaim, compute, dig, paint, parent, program, sing, and play with a love that is fierce. Is there risk? Will it cost you? Absolutely.
11 comments:
Ah, the intellectual late night discussions of The Neighborhood - how I miss thee.
For me, a thing that puts a stop to unconditional love expressed is a fear of getting hurt. Of not being accepted for who I am. For being judged. It is the same for not always acting how I want to act because I am afraid I will be laughed at or looked at as a bit looney (even though this may be true). Once I get close to people, this fear is abandoned, but it sometimes takes a while. The one thing I have noticed is how all of that fear goes out of the window when I am around kids. They don't care. The sillier the better. If only adults could be that non-judgemental and non-uptight. I think it is hard for humans to trust. Too often, our worst fears come true. The person on the street you are trying to help is scamming you. The person you thought was your friend stabs you in the back.
I know I have been trying to take each event and person as they come and trust. If I get burned, I try not to let that influence my next encounter. I learn lessons, but I am working hard at not pre-judging.
All of this said, it is a hard thing to overcome. I know that I am not that giving to my husband. I expect way more than I give. I think I don't want to be taken advantage of, but really, I am selfish.
Ah, become like little children to enter the kingdom of heaven.
Don't think about loving 'despite the consequences', because it is not real love until there are consequences.
"The brave may not live forever, but the cautious never live at all."
My Father has impressed this verse upon me pretty heavily over the past few months. I've been wrestling with it from several different angles, and you (Reacher) struck a chord in me. Ok, maybe you struck several chords... i think i feel a tune coming on...
Honestly, this verse breaks my heart. It breaks my heart that, even amongst close friends, i have to live in fear of "letting it all go". Part of it is, as you said, that there's a bunch of stuff inside me that, if it got out, would offend or possibly even hurt someone. I suffer from foot-in-mouth syndrome, which even manifests itself in webworld from time to time.
But there's another part of me--the real me--that is scared of the world around him. It's not that i don't love other people, although i certainly don't love them as much as i should. I guess i don't always trust that people will stick around after they see the real me. You know how it is when you make someone uncomfortable with the real you. We're all so different, so we try and figure out a way that we can all appear the same so that we can get along. But does that really make us all happy?
Loving foolishly is a wonderfully freeing thing... for the moment. But again and again it comes back to bite you, making you more afraid each time. How do we get past this notion of social graces, which we have created to stifle our quirkiness and unpredictability? How do we let go in the midst of a culture that has established far too many taboos?
I'm still scared. I wish i wasn't but i am. Conversations like these need to happen more often, because the more they do, the more people inch toward openness, authenticity and, ultimately, unconditional love. All it takes is for that one other person to let down his/her guard, and we can go about living life as it should be lived. Thanks for urging us to be that person.
Peace.
Good words, Beloved.
Your reaching hand logo reminds me of a gesture that I used to use when I would tell the story of the week we adopted Jaelyn.
Our lawyer and our social worker advocated that we meet her and hold her, but allow her to sleep at a friends house for that first 48 hours of her life when her status would still be in limbo. Our lawyer was a good friend and a wise man and had been embroiled in custody battles before for falling-through-adoptions; so we knew that he had both expertise and trustworthiness.
But we both became gradually convinced that to set those boundaries would only protect us -- they would do no good for Jaelyn. And ultimately wasn't that the journey that we were trying to go on with her anyway? Wouldn't she (like every child) break our hearts eventually anyway by disappearing in some unexpected way? By choosing something we didn't want sometime? Isn't the nature of parenting loving with open hands? In spite of the absolute assurance that we will lose something in the process? So we brought her home to our tiny grad school digs and showered her with love trying not to betray how many knots our insides were wound into...
And I recognize that its an easy story to tell because its a grand moment of noble choice. And in the end she stayed and the love she gives us makes it seem easy (mostly) to love her with our hands open.
I love love your definition of sin -- we resist the power of love and grace when we try to hold tightly to our dignity, our reputation, our potential, our whatever...
I find it remarkable how forgetful I am, then, about how good it is to love and live in this way. With the folks I love, I'm not likely to turn ornery on them, but i'm very likely to disappear. To be only half present in our moments together. To be greedy for a little more Me Time and slink off with a book or a blog or a task that I can do alone for a bit.
I constantly need my greedy fingers to be pried open again. In your story? Leaving friends, closing schools, ugly institutions -- all those hand-closers resonated deeply. But the late night porch conversation and the intimate comfort of a lover and the sun-dappled joy of dixieland jazz stayed longer. Good hand-openers. Thanks.
Thanks for this thoughtful post, Reacher. What a good reminder for all of us. I agree that we have to love unconditionally without thinking of the consequences (or despite the consequences) -- good or bad. We could get hurt or we could be loved unconditionally in return. But we're not supposed to do it for what we could get from it. I think the hardest part for me is simply loving and being vulnerable without expectation. Sharing love simply because that is what I am called to do.
I know I would love you more if you would write more. Conditional love.
I keep looking for sister's blog but i'm having trouble finding it.
ahhhhh ocho - that would be because it exists only in her head and her top secret journal - despite Reacher's "encouragement" to get it out in the open.
Perhaps someday soon. It's been the sort of year that produces writing of the hopeless, pointless, despairing quality which even the author prefers to avoid.
Thanks again for putting all I've been wrestling with into words. As always, I'm encouraged.
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