Emerging through trial...

My friends, I realized today that my blog has been in existence for over a year now. That's crazy. I remember I started it last year after Peter Clothier (whom I now consider a somewhat distant mentor of mine) came to Drury last year and read poetry to us. He mentioned his blog and his religious beliefs, so I got online and started my own for the sole purpose of commenting on his. I have since tried to turn this blog into a chronicle of my spiritual journey in order to not only keep a record of the ways in which I'm changing throughout my stay here at Drury but also to keep myself sane throughout my drastic reformation of self. I'm not the most diligent poster, but I do enjoy this blog and I appreciate the people who read and comment a whole lot. So I thought I'd begin this post with a cheers to those of you who make my life brighter and more interesting, to those of you who challenge me spiritually and emotionally, who critique me into becoming the best me I can be, and to those of you who are with me when things have gotten really hard. Thank you.

Recently I've been getting into a new movement in Christianity which I feel really suits me. Interestingly enough, the more I read about it, the more I realize that I embody this movement and have somehow come to the exact conclusions that these people do without even knowing it. Rob Winger, a friend of my Dad's for many years and now recently another sort of mentor of mine, recently gave me a copy of a book called "The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent frontier" by a man named Tony Jones. The book, about Emergent Christianity, gives me a sense of relief and comfort spiritually that I haven't felt in a long time.

Basically Emergent Christianity is Christianity's reaction to the Post-Modern era. Studying philosophy has taught me that reason is fallible and truth is subjective. Knowing this, it's difficult for me to ascribe to a belief system held by only one quarter of the world's population which says, "We know the absolute Truth (with a capital T) and if you don't believe it, your eternal soul is in trouble." Everything that statement says is completely unjustifiable epistemologically, so I can't necessarily call it "truth." A lot of Emergents think the same way I do, and have reacted.

The focus has been put on conversational spirituality, on non-literal interpretation of the Bible (and the whole Bible, not just selected passages which are easy to swallow), and following the way of Jesus as lovingly as possible. This doesn't mean that everything is loosey-goosey in the Emergent church, but it does mean that every belief, every profession of faith, and every interpretation comes with a deep sense of humility. The reality of the situation is that not only do we not "know" the truth behind our faith statements and beliefs, but we CAN'T know, so we have to hold them very humbly.

As such, orthopraxy is given grounds to take the stage. The Emergent movement, which realizes that life isn't just about "me and Jesus" but that we live in a community which is affected by every action we do, strongly emphasizes that faith without works is dead. If one truly wishes to be a Christian, they have to live a loving, open, virtuous life. Jesus cared for the sick, helped the poor, loved the unloved, and tended to the broken in spirit. That's exactly what we're called to do as well. The thing that I love about this is that regardless of race, sexual orientation, religious creed, gender, etc., we can (or should) all agree on this point.

So for now, I think I'm starting to settle once again into Christianity, but with a much more humble, accepting, and loving approach. I've still got a lot of thinking and reading to do, but as I've started to put down in previous posts, it just feels good to be able to go back to the tradition I once loved so much. So here's to another day of reflection, to humility, to agape, to community. Thanks, Rob and Dad, for being there and helping me out even when I didn't necessarily ask you to. This semester has been really hard, and I feel like through the trials I have emerged with a spiritual foundation.

My Big Lie...

Again, I've been pondering Peter with a two week delay. Let's get started, shall we? We'll start at the very beginning. It's a very good place to start.

I was never the "cool kid" in school until later. When social groups started forming in about fourth grade, I was left on the outskirts of popularity. Don't get me wrong; I'm not about to tell a sob story or have an emotional unload on my blog, but it's part of the story I mean to tell. I was often mocked and made fun of for being the teacher's pet, not having the cool clothes, whatever kids make fun of each other for when we're young. My parents would tell me, "They only make fun of you to make themselves feel cool!" I didn't understand the truth behind those words for a very long time, so I took their shots and let them get me down.

Flash forward to high school.

I'd been a successful track athlete in jr. high, and I enjoyed it. Naturally, I continued to pursue track (most notably pole vault and sprinting) in high school. Eventually, my body developed and I transformed from the geek into the fastest kid in school. I had become an athlete, and this is where I first got a taste of success over the kids that had always made fun of me. During track season, I was part of the flock with them. They'd cheer me on in my races and we'd get along pretty well. I felt good because they were being civil to me and I knew I was better at an athletic event than them.

It sounds terrible, but beating these guys in athletics was a profound feeling. Being smarter than them wasn't anything I cared about. That's why they made fun of me in grade school to begin with and these guys didn't care about school at all. They did, however, have some stock in their ability as athletes. I had taken them at their own game. Even though we were teammates during the season, I was always competing with them. When I was racing, it felt like I was always racing my teammates. They were chasing me to the finish line. In reality, none of them were faster than me. In my mind, they always won.

Flash forward to the present.

I've been having the strangest dreams this week. I have been dreaming that I'm on the track with these guys again. Even though I never got along with a lot of these guys, I was desperately in love with running. I miss track so much. My college doesn't have a team, so I never put on my spikes and run anymore. I miss the speed, the wind, the crowd, the baton handoffs, the adrenaline. I felt alive when I was racing. I thought at first that these dreams I'd been having of racing on the track were just my mind being upset and missing track season, but I've noticed something strange about the dreams.

It isn't just me running on the track, feeling the rubber underneath my spikes. I'm always racing someone from my school that I never had any problems beating, but I can't stand up to him anymore. He always annihilates me. I've lost my edge. I'm slow again, like I was when I started to get made fun of when I was little. After thinking about this for a few days, another thought started popping into my head.

I recommend everyone read Peter Clothier's blog post from Friday, May 11 2007. In The Buddha Diaries, Clotheir discusses lots of interesting topics, but one in particular has been bothering me lately. The post, entitled "Body-Mind," is about Peter's "Big Lie." At a conference Clothier went to, the administrator was trying to get everyone to discover the one problem in their mind they can't overcome. The essence of the problem is a solid question all of us need to address: Why do I foil my own plans? What part of me gets in my own way and why? All of the story I told above adds to my own "Big Lie."

My "Big Lie" goes something like this: "I'm not good enough."

I've always stacked myself up against other people. I've always had to compete for attention. I felt like I had to beat these guys at their own game in order to earn respect and comradery. Why? Because I had been convinced of a giant sham. I had let myself believe that I'm not good enough on my own. I played their game, and in their game, only they win. It's a theme that I've let dictate my life and effect me. I've foiled myself because of "I'm not good enough." I've let good things go by because I don't deserve them. Isn't that ridiculous?!

From now on, I'm done competing. From now on, I know what I want and I know how to get it. From now on, I'm done not being good enough. God damnit, I'm worth it. I'm worth happiness. I'm done with my big lie, because that's all it is. A Big Lie. Nothing more. I'm good enough being me, not what people want me to be. It feels good to be me.

Na na na na na na na, Sparky. You get to be happy. Na na na na na na na, I give you unlimited time...

Change

I'm moving this summer. For the first few days I was visibly upset over the move, but I've since calmed down somewhat. I'm still really struggling in my mind over this situation but have decided there really isn't anything I can do about it. Some things are just out of my control. Life is about dealing with things you can't change as gracefully as possible.

The reason I've decided to post about it today is because my friend Peter Clothier from The Buddha Diaries made a post about his stomping ground being consumed by fires in California. It parallels my emotions in a lot of ways. The places he loves to walk with his wife are gone, taken away by the forest fires. I started to think to myself, "Wow. I don't know what I would do if my favorite spots to watch the sunset back home were taken away." Then I realized that is exactly what is happening in June. All of my favorite parks, sunset bluffs, bike trails, birdwatching coves. I don't know what to think about it.

On a lighter side, it will all still exist outside of me. I've been dealing with that a lot lately too. There are things in life that I want near me all of the time. I'm happier when they're there, when I'm amongst the endangered green herons in my cove at home, when I'm with good friends leaving for home this week, when I'm on my bike on the steel bridge overlooking the river on the trail here at Drury. There is a thought that consoles me throughout the whole thing: Regardless of whether I'm with these people or near these places, they exist. They exist outside of me and the world is a much more beautiful place because of that. I can call up my friends or drive home and visit these places when I get the desire. I guess change just isn't easy.

It also reminds me of my recent meditations. Thinking about my breathing is like being home. Breathing connects me with life. All of the life here on this planet needs the same oxygen I'm breathing in to survive, so we're all connected when I'm being mindful about my breath. I wonder if it is the same with people or places. When I'm thinking about my friends and our relationship, when I abide in the loves that we share, we're connected again regardless of where we are. I can close my eyes and think about that cliff that nobody else knows about and I'm there once more.

Still, nothing can replace the embrace of a friend or the feeling of the dirt between my toes back home...