Tag: love

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Why should we choose love over fear?

On Valentine’s Day, my co-workers and I walked the halls, handing out Valentine cards and candy to staff (perks of being in HR). At the same time, we held a contest. I carried a thick glass jar filled with Hershey’s Kisses. Whoever guessed the number of kisses (303 to be exact) won them. Maybe halfway through, I balanced the jar on the corner of two cubicle walls to write down a couple guesses. Before I even knew what had happened, the jar tipped and plummeted to the floor, shattering and sending kisses in every direction. The weight was enough to turn the bottom of the jar, which hit first, into sand.

Needless to say, the kisses were in a Ziploc bag the rest of the contest… and while no one guessed the exact amount, a one person was close at 300. Congratulations! You’ve won an insulin swing (yes, this is where my brain goes in midlife).

And then, there was my response. There was a time in the not too distant past, when I would have beat myself up endlessly. My internal dialogue would have included, “stupid, stupid Lisa. You’re clumsy. Can’t be trusted, you always make mistakes.” Sound familiar? It would have continued to surface for days.

While I’m happy that didn’t happen, my immediate response was to rush to clean it up. Small glass shards are weapons, the cuts on my hands attest to that fact. The desire was to make everything right again.

In those moments, my curiosity rises, wondering about the emotions that bubble up. Was self-compassion coming into play? Perfectionism?

What’s the driving motivator?

Truthfully, the answer was a bit of both. As the incident rolled around in my head, the other words that arose were love and fear. Now my curiosity was genuinely peaked. Self-compassion is an expression of love while perfectionism is based on fear. Fear of shame, disappointment, embarrassment… the whole gamut. Both are motivators, one positive, the other not.

What’s interesting is the prevalence of fear as a motivator. In business, in relationships, in religious institutions. Fear is used as the driving force to move people towards a desired goal. At work, people may perform out of a fear of penalty. In relationships? Fear of abandonment or other forms of loss of love. In religious institutions? Believe a certain way to avoid an eternal penalty. We could easily extrapolate endless examples of fear used as a motivator. Think about the examples in your own life.

But when love is in play, such as with self-compassion, it’s another ball game. In relationships, when we approach another with loving intent, including our approach to ourselves, the outcome is expansive. Not limited by fear. At work? People flourish when given space, encouragement and trust. And in religious institutions? I’m not a religious scholar, so in my opinion only, approaching people from the standpoint of the love of Jesus, which was His greatest command, “love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself,” the outcome is different than fear. The commandment is love. That’s it. Him your neighbor, yourself. Not, go out and terrify people into following me. Love.

Making a choice to love

Making the choice to love over fear, self-compassion over perfectionism, it’s moment by moment. Get curious this week and notice your own thought pattern. Notice when fear is in the driver seat instead of love. When that’s the case, reframe your thoughts from a place of love. It’s practice, friends, reprogramming ourselves. But choosing love is choosing expansiveness versus the limiting nature of fear. Imagine if each of us choose love regularly? It’s our brave journey to a wholehearted life. Let’s make the choice together.

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Moving past differences to get to love

SneetchesWho remembers the children’s book clubs that existed at the same prevalence as Columbia House records? When my children were babies, I aspired to build a vast library of books for them and joined one of the clubs where I could quickly acquire my library for a low, low price. Many of those first books were from Dr. Seuss. In fact, they were many of the same books I read as a child.

The other day I was thinking about those books, in particular, the Sneetches. I’m not sure why The Sneetches came to mind, but it stuck. Dr. Seuss had a way of teaching children societal lessons in subtle ways. The Sneetches was written in 1961 about a society of bird like creatures. Some of the Sneetches had stars on their bellies and the others had plain bellies. In the Sneetch society, social class lines were firmly drawn based upon whether they had “stars upon thars…” (A line that sticks in my head more than 45 years later!) The star bellied sneetches fancied themselves better than the plain bellied ones. Along came Sylvester McMonkey McBean who, with his magical machine, was able to put stars upon the plain bellies. Of course, he could also remove stars, and, as you can imagine, the original star bellies wanted to continue being different, and had their removed. What ensues is stars on, stars off, until no one can remember if they had a star when it all began! It’s then that they begin to see they were never that different in the first place and a peaceful, unified society is formed.

Dr. Seuss’ book was a message about what was happening in society at the time. The 1960’s were tumultuous as the country struggled toward legislation providing equality. Yet, piece of paper the legislation was written upon did not magically change people’s views, only in Dr. Seuss’ magical Sneetch land could that happen. More than 50 years after that legislation, the country continues to struggle among lines of distinction, race and otherwise.

In no way would I suppose to suggest a magical solution for the systemic issues some face every day. It seems to me though that if we could remember that each of us is fundamentally the same that we could influence the conversation around it. In so many ways we look for and draw lines based on difference, and we need to seek out better ways to approach each other.

I particularly look at the church and the language many within those bodies have adopted. If we strip back to the original message, it’s love God and love others as yourself. It’s not, love others if they also happen to believe the same as you. It’s not love others if they fit your demographic…if they follow your faith tradition…if they are straight…if they serve, and give, and memorize scripture. One could easily keep going on the list that is created around what has sometimes become more a membership in a club than a demonstration of the love God intends for each and every one of us. But look at the commandment again, love God, love others as yourself. That’s it. No if’s, and’s or but’s. No stars on your belly or not. Love.

Every person you encounter has a piece of that love within them. Irrespective of what they look like on the outside. Every.single.person. It may be hidden with hurt, and pain but it’s there. We may not be in relationship with every person, but we can choose to love. And to seek to understand their experience, their world, so that we can draw closer.

We can show up as our authentic self, boldly showing that the love God has for us and instills within us has no boundaries. Can you imagine? It’s what we’re created to do, to be, and it would be a magical society indeed.

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What is love, anyways

Love rainbowsYesterday was spent with my youngest son, Bodie, hanging out in the Bay Area. He’s 25, 26 in a few months and he towers over me…both he and his brother do. As I often do, I think back to when he was a baby, small, not tiny, but I can remember the feeling that washed over me in the first time I held him…pure love. Anyone who’s held their child for the first time likely remembers that feeling. Looking at their tiny face, a reflection of yours, and thinking there was nothing more perfect. The same feelings swelled up in me with each of my boys. They were, they are, perfect. I’ve never hesitated in loving them since that day.

But I know that’s not the case for all parents and their children. Or, for that matter, children loving their parents. There’s something foundational about the love you feel from your parents, it’s sets the tone for the other relationships you have in your life. If you read the Bible, study the words of Jesus, He breaks down the “rules” for our lives to two simple statements. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself.  Simple, right?

But we mess it up.

We pile on. We’ll love each other if. That’s where we go sideways.

We’ll love you if you adhere to what we believe.

We’ll love you if you do what I ask you to.

If layers on to what is perfect, pure, unencumbered by conditions.

Could that be because we can’t truly understand the depth of how much God loves us? It’s impossible for us to truly understand that love. So, we define it based on what life has taught us. We come into this world innocent, knowing nothing but love. Throughout childhood, we observe, we learn, behaviors that help us navigate our lives safely, ways to assure affection and love. If you study the Enneagram, your type is largely the result of how you interpreted and adapted to life around you, to the love you experienced as a child.

Though not my experience, I know that not everyone had the unconditional love of their parent as a child. And that influences how you interact with others today. I am a student of human behavior and notice that often, when people hesitate to express love unconditionally, it’s tied to fear. Fear that if they accept and love someone with all their bumps, lumps and flaws (because we all have them), that they’re not just accepting but endorsing each other’s messiness. To that I say, that’s on you.

If we break it back to the original instruction, it’s love God, love others. We’re all a hot mess to one degree or another. But when we layer on our own beliefs and experiences and weigh our love for someone else based on that? It’s a recipe for judgement, not love. The idea of “love the sinner hate the sin?” From my personal perspective, it’s a premise that inherently fails. Our human selves have a hard time separating those factors, instead, it’s a circle back to “I love you, but I judge you.”

What if instead, we tried to love people where they are. Love their heart, love their effort, their journey? Love them as they were created in their mother’s womb. Perfectly. Without judgement. Judging people is not our job. Period. Our job, the main deal, is to love other people. It doesn’t mean we’re necessarily in relationship with them, but we can hold that love in our hearts. Respecting our individual journeys. Love is love. Our lives are spent practicing sharing it with other people. It’s no good to hold it inside, it’s meant to share with others. So, in the midst of the messiness life can throw at us, we can practice bringing love into each situation. That’s our journey, one we’re walking out, together, every day. It’s our brave path in this one life we have to live. Go out and love each other.

 

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You are loved

For God so loved the worldToday marks the beginning of the biggest week in the life of the church. Palm Sunday. The day that Jesus entered Jerusalem for the final period of his life leading up to Easter. When I visited Israel last year, we walked down the same path Jesus would have walked on that journey. Down a hill with a beautiful view of the gates of Jerusalem. It’s the beginning of the week that symbolizes the fulfillment of scripture, and brings to mind the verse, “For God so loved the world.” The verse continues with “that He gave his only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life.” (don’t get lost in the details if I don’t have that 100% right. It’s from my sleep hazy, coffee fueled mind – but you get the point).

For God so loved the world. I found myself getting stuck right there yesterday. It rolled around in my mind while I meditated. We’ve heard it said over and over, but I think we lose the essence of it. It gets watered down, or we focus only that later part of the verse. Don’t get me wrong, that part is critically important, I believe it and find peace in it. But God so loved the world.

Loved the world. That means every single one of us. He loved us. That means me, that means you.

During my meditation as I listened for the still, small voice, I sensed the deep meaning of God loving us. It’s more than we could ever fathom. It’s as we are, in the moment, each day. He formed us in our mother’s womb. To me that means He knew what was coming next. He knew how we’d turn out. Me, with my birth defect and later amputation – check – knew it was coming. He knew our wiring, it’s how we were made to be. From the beginning. And He loved us.

As those thoughts rolled around in my head, I felt that still small voice telling me, “now you’re getting it.” And I listened. Knowing that the love is for all of us. Without exception.

What if we believed it? Those of us who feel unlovable. Who feel like we need to be someone different that who we are to be loved. Who engage a practice of holding off loving ourselves until we reach some magical state. The right weight, a level of success, a point in our relationships where we have it “just right.” We don’t allow ourselves to feel love that is freely available to us because we condition that love. We listen to other voices telling us there is something else to it. Something else to that acceptance.

If you truly believed that love what would you do differently? Knowing that you are loved beyond measure – a concept which our minds lack the ability to truly comprehend. But even if you do, just a little, it’s a game changer.

The message that God so loves the world gets lost in a puzzle of rules or conditions, but the message is simple. Let it sit in your heart. God loves you. Feel it in your heart. Now…share that love with others.

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Return to simple love

let friends be themselvesHave you ever watched a baby playing? Around nine months old when they’re curious and amused by the smallest of actions. They’re mobile enough to be getting into things, but still at the age where it takes little to create joy on their faces. I was delighted the other day to have a co-worker bring her son to work for a few hours. One, I have an affinity to this kid because he shares the name of my son, Bodie. Second, babies at work bring a lightness to what, at times, can be a serious atmosphere.

Bodie sat on the floor next to the door and swung it one way, crawled over to where it landed, and swung it the other. In all honesty, I sat watching him as though he was baby Einstein solving advanced calculus problems. Back and forth…over and over. I thought in that moment how simple life is when we’re babies. Our reality is made up of that which is directly in front of us…our mom…and our dad. Our challenges are putting Cheerios into our mouth with accuracy and working on walking.

Somewhere along the way though, a narrative begins forming in our minds. We start to make sense of what’s happening around us, the relationships we have. We fill in blanks for ourselves when the story doesn’t quite make sense. There’s a learning about what helps us succeed in our life, even at a young age. Behaving, learning, achieving, it becomes evident what makes our parents give us praise. Human nature loves that praise…as young children we figure out the system.

At least, we figure out the system that works for us, in our family. But not all families are the same. As a young child, I had to go to bed EARLY, I mean….my friends were still outside playing, right outside my window in the meadow in front of our home. It seemed unfair, why did they get to stay up? Granted, it was still light as day…stays light past my 7 p.m. bedtime in the summer. But still. And, the injustice of other kids being able to eat sweets whenever they wanted! I got a quarter, once a week, to walk to the store and get a piece of candy. In hindsight, that one wasn’t a bad strategy. I was in my 30’s before I had my first cavity.

The comparisons we form lead to judgement. As we grow into adulthood, our experiences, the realities of childhood, become ingrained in us. We start using our reality to measure others. To judge them. How your family loaded the dishwasher or put on the toilet paper roll becomes a yardstick for measuring right and wrong. Of course, that’s the tip of the iceberg, if we’re not careful, our judgement can run deep into core beliefs and measuring others against our standards.

That’s the point where the rubber meets the road in relationships. We weren’t raised by the same two people and how I made sense of the world may not be how you made sense of the world. What do you do then? In simple terms, you seek to understand. Understand their perspective. That doesn’t mean you have to adopt it but understanding where they’re coming from is a starting point for conversation. It’s easy to slip into wanting to judge another’s belief as right or wrong, but that’s not our job. Our job is understanding and giving space for people to be themselves. Our job is to love, not to clobber. To remember that we have a lifetime of input behind our beliefs, but so does the other person. We were born uniquely us and continue to be that way. If we could learn to love people where they are, I believe we’d have solved one of life’s biggest challenges.  Star with today, and then tomorrow, love other people, just as God loves us.

 

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Why have an anthem?

Vulnerability 2For as long as I can remember, I’ve gravitated to music that is big. Ballads, big female voices, dramatic crescendos, swells…think Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, lately a little bit of Lady Gaga. BIG. Songs that fill a room and might leave you crying in a puddle on the floor at the same time. Throughout the years, I’ve found myself drifting away, but always returning to a song, or finding new ones, to put on repeat. When my kids were young, I’d blast it in the car, we’d all be singing along and then…I’d turn it off…catching them mid-song each time…and then we’d laugh and laugh. But even today, they know the words to all the songs. You’re welcome.

The songs I’ve put on repeat over the years have changed, again, Celine Dion is always a leader, but there’s always been one. Lately, This is me, by Kesha has been on the playlist. It’s from The Greatest Showman movie, which, I literally only saw last night. I’ve caught the song, here and there, mainly at women’s events, not surprisingly. It has all my required elements, big swells, compelling lyrics, a dramatic finish. I can’t get enough of it. For the first time, I’ve decided to call a song my anthem.

Anthem’s are nothing new. They arise to provide people with an anchor, something to hold tight, to rally around in unity or in protest at times. But an anthem defined is “an uplifting song identified with a particular group…or cause.” This is me rallies for the underdog, the marginalized, those who are cast aside. While that’s not my story, my heart hurts for people who are overlooked, or marginalized for being who they are.

Maybe it’s because of my own beginnings. As a child with a prosthetic leg, you stand out. Before you think I’m going down a traumatic tale, I’m not. But, you stand out. People look at you, other kids, adults. And they ask questions. Today, I roll with all of it, but as a child, or a young teen, all you want to do is fit in, and you don’t.

I wish I could understand the component of human psyche that explains why some people struggle to be in proximity with different. We are all different, to varying degrees, some of our differences are simply visible. But whether internal or external, different is only different. It’s nothing else. It’s not less.

That’s what I notice, the tendency to hone in on less, to pinpoint the difference and label it as bad, or wrong, or weird. This can be viewed as a form of deflecting, we judge in others what we are uncomfortable or unhappy with in ourselves.

My heart breaks for people who find themselves in the margins. I could say “because I’ve been there,” but only from the standpoint that I know the feeling of having people stare. I’ve been fortunate to have people remind me I’m loved, but that’s not always the case. That is where my heart hurts. Maybe that’s why I love an anthem. It’s a rallying point. This is me was a rallying point in the movie for the sideshow, people who were in the circus solely for their difference. Even then, despite the draw, they were kept in the shadows, until they weren’t.

The song, my anthem, embraces the individual, just as they are. Just as God created them, created you, created me. Will you be bold enough today to do the same?

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I have questions

church in portlandDear God, It’s me, Lisa.

I have a lot of questions, and I often wish that I could ask God the questions that linger in my mind. Those matters of the heart I don’t understand, social injustice issues, why my heart hurts so much at times it’s palpable. Why people are mean to each other, at a fundamental level, which really boils down to why are we so inclined to be up in each other’s business. Why it can be so difficult for us to appreciate people as they are and love them. I’d also want to know how my family is doing. Those who are hanging out in Heaven. Is my Nana dancing to Frank Sinatra? I hope the answer would be yes. And could I also ask what the deal is with Brazil nuts? What was the point with creating those?

There are ways I can look for answers to my many questions. I have prayer. Sometimes I feel I get answers but others I don’t. So, I live in a space of trusting, believing. That’s what faith is about for me. Trusting in what I cannot see. I also have the Bible, which I regularly read and seek to understand, but I’m not one to push the Bible in your face or ask “do you know where you’re going when you die?” Honestly? I know that’s one that some Christians love to lead with. For me? Straight up turn off.

And since I’m putting it out there, I wrestle at times to understand what I’m supposed to do in life, like anyone does. I know I don’t have to figure it all out, that I can rely on God for that. But I still try sometimes. That feels normal. Any one of us wrestles, whether it be about why life can be hard lying awake at 3 a.m. or how to understand areas of the Bible that just don’t make sense to me, in today’s times. I am a woman, I’ve cut my hair, I’m still fairly certain that doesn’t condemn me in the end. And I like bacon. I eat it on occasion and have no plans to quit.

I was thinking about all of these matters the other day and was reminded of some of the ridiculous schemes I carried out in my younger years. Plans in my early 20’s I thought were brilliant that more accurately looked like a train about to run off the tracks. But I also look at the context. What was happening at the time. My age, my life experiences to date, what was going on around me, the social context, what was happening in the world – the challenges we faced. All that impacted what was important to me. Those factors impact anyone, at any time, including today. Looking back with the lens I have today is like comparing apples to a watermelon.

That’s where some of my questions come in. If the context and what was going on 30 years ago is so vastly different than now, what would it have been like thousands of years ago when the Bible was written? Different. Looking at it with the lens of today isn’t just apples to a watermelon, it’s apples to, say, a boulder. And that’s where I have questions. Those things are worthy of having conversations around. What is not helpful is to sit around judging each other. That’s not my job, and really, who am I to judge? All that does is create walls and I’d rather look for ways to break those down. The authentic pieces of me are continually being shaped and formed and asking questions to understand is part of that. To bring out and completely understand what I believe, because at the end of the day, my faith is my own. No one else’s. I am responsible for it.

At the end of the day, I have found answers and at the same time, I still have questions. But I know this. Jesus said to love him and love one another. Period. Not if they abstained from bacon or were perfect (none of us have that claim to fame), but simply love each other.

I can do that. No questions asked.

 

 

 

 

 

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Lessons from Mr. Rogers

Mr. RogersI’m late to the game. I know the Mr. Roger Neighborhood documentary/movie came out months ago, but it came to my home screen the other night. I can remember watching Mr. Rogers when I was little as it was one of 2 shows my mom approved me to watch. I will admit to sneaking in a little Wonderful World of Disney and their weekly movie on my little 13 inch black and white TV in my room. But on a more regular basis, Sesame Street, followed by Mr. Rogers.

Here’s the truth. I can remember watching Mr. Rogers and thinking, “move…it…along.” Seriously. Was I 5? 6? Not sure, but not much older and I can remember it seeming slow to me. Get to Make Believe Land already! These were the early years of Mr. Rogers, it aired the first time when I was a year old. But I don’t think it ever lost that pace.

Looking back, I wonder if my little self was either missing, or didn’t want to hear the message he was sharing. I’ve read, and now watched in the movie, about the messages he shared with children. It seems to me that his greatest desire was to listen to children and to normalize what was going on in the world around them. He tackled racism, death, divorce, fear, not being like other people…topics that as grown adults we shy away from, not to mention the multitude of others that he talked to kids about day after day, week after week.

And I wonder why that is? Why is it so difficult to have conversations about certain topics? Particularly with children. Imagine as a child feeling like you’re not like other kids, or that kids don’t like you, or make fun of you. I think that’s every child’s experience to some degree or another. I actually think it’s many adult’s experience as well. But instead of talking about it, we try and make it go away. We try and fix it. We dismiss it. With adults, we tell them to get over it, or to not worry about what others think.

But that doesn’t make the feelings go away. In my mind, what assuages feelings is acknowledging them. Normalizing them. Conversations that help people see that they are not alone. That someone else has felt the way they do.

I have coffee every Saturday morning with a girlfriend. We’re both early risers and are at our local Starbucks by about 6 a.m. We’re the same age and met a couple years ago when I was intent on meeting other women and making friends. It all started over a shared love of Athleta workout pants. She had a brightly colored pair and I commented. The rest is history. And yes, there was coffee that day.

One of the aspects I love the most about those mornings is that we share experiences and it’s confirmation that we’re not alone. We’ve had similar experiences and if one is wrestling with something, the other has probably been there and normalizes it. Having people in your life who can relate to what you’re going through is critically important. I believe for both men and women, though I can only talk about my experience as a woman.

It’s a lie that we have to go through life on our own. And, honestly, there are some areas where we need to talk to other women (or men as the case may be). I think my husband is thankful I have my coffee talks, I work through a lot of the craziness in my head over a Venti. Plain coffee for me, you didn’t ask, but I’m offering…nothing fancy.

Back to Mr. Rogers, that’s who he was for children. Every day. He’d tackle topics that adults are often hesitant to talk about with kids in a gentle way. He made them normal. He used Daniel Striped Tiger, King Friday XIII, Lady Elaine, and others on the show to talk through real issues children were facing. And he did it all while acknowledging kids for who they were and loving on them. That’s what we all want, to be known and loved.

If you haven’t watched this movie, it’s worth it. And the brave step I’d encourage you to take today? Love each other. Just as Mr. Rogers did, just as God calls us to do. It doesn’t have to be complicated, or over intellectualized. Just…love…each…other.