We all use a variety of measures for determining our development throughout life. At the moment, my focus would be on compassion both for myself and others. There is a lot of spiritual literature which speaks to the oneness of us all. This can present a real challenge when some of those around us are individuals who seem to be irritating to our core. I have had more than a few of these folks around me throughout my life. I have reflected on why it is that these certain people have brought up the feelings in me that they have.
Sometimes it's the exaggerated, reactive behavior of these folks that causes me to feel unsettled. What might trigger their next reaction? The instability and intensity of their reaction causes me to brace for the next explosion. I do my best to minimize my time around these people but sometimes that's just not an easy choice. I can certainly feel the fear in these people. Situations that could be easily managed are often intensely seen and felt by these individuals. Day to day life stresses seem to cause them to fall into panic mode more often than not.
Perhaps the intensity of these folks would bother me less if others would stop reacting to them. I often think it feels easier for the people around them to indulge them their emotional outbursts than to constantly redirect them or ignore them. I have disconnected myself from some of these people in my life. Their intensity and constant swirling of emotions feels very exhausting to me. Sometimes this is not possible. People do overreact and some much more than others. It seems like often there is a pull of extremes: those who under-react are attracted to those who overreact. Usually this combination exhausts both parties who can't seem to understand the opposite.
I was thinking of the phrase: "Rather than get pulled into their chaos, pull them into your peace." I really am working with this. There will certainly be people I find exhausting yet clearly they have a right to be who they are. I would also state that the consequences of their behavior are theirs and theirs alone as well.
After years working with a diagnostic manual of mental health disorders, I could rattle off several labels for these people. However I know that in doing so, it would soothe and settle nothing. Some individuals are dominated by fear and anger and chaos is what they know. Some people know violence, hatred and pain and respond in kind. It's a challenge to move away from this type of person, who seems so lost, because for me there is that need to want to help make things better. It's been a tough lesson for me to learn that some folks are not ready or willing to shift. Where they are in their lives is where they choose to stay. It feels sad to hear people speak in victim terms, but being a powerless victim with them is no help either.
Learning to love, let go, and allow is perhaps one of the most difficult lessons in life. There are so many voices of shame and should in life today that it takes a lot of courage and self-love to step away from earthly pain and into God's grace. I cannot say I do it all the time or that I'm always graceful in doing it. I can honestly say I'm working on finding and keeping peace and giving God the chaos that is not mine to accept.
Sunday, May 10, 2015
It hurts my heart
Being from New Jersey during a lot of the racial tensions happening in the US, I saw first hand the confusion and pain that comes from deep rooted fear. When I was a small girl, my parents had neighbors who were a family that had multicultural relationships several generations back. Two of the daughters were in high school in the early seventies and I remember one of them saying: "I don't want to have to pick a side. I just want to learn." Even as a young child I felt her pain in not wanting to choose a racial identity. She was the child of many cultures: Native American, African American and an array of European ethnicities. It hurt me to hear this young woman speak so passionately on how she was forced to choose or have her loyalty be chosen for her.
While working in Atlantic City, most of the members of my closest circles were African Americans. I remember the looks when we would walk into a nightclub and I was usually one of only a handful of Caucasians. My friends were very loyal and their response to most of the judgmental sentiment around was: "She's with us". I did my best to return the favor when a friend, who was African American, and I went to lunch. The wait staff was less than thrilled of who my dining partner was and little things began to add up. My salad was prettier than hers. My refills were faster. My dessert looked just a bit nicer than hers. I was enraged; my friend was aware. We decided that a tip that reflected OUR service was to make one point and a chat with the manager was to make another. I remember that day and I remember feeling horrible about what happened. My friend did her best to explain to me how often these kinds of things happened to her. We made a pact that day that others' biases would not stop our friendship or our enjoying life! The shame I felt for the behavior, which was not my fault, stays with me to this day.
I remember applying for a job working in the changing county welfare system in Atlantic City. My interview questions were direct and powerful and I watched as my multicultural interviewers shifted in their opinion of this "white girl". I got the job and I remember the biases of my co-workers when I went to go sit and visit with our clients. None of them, regardless of race, even seemed to see me when I was with our clients. Apparently some biases go way beyond race.
When I was in Trenton, I worked in an inner city methadone clinic. Methadone is a synthetic form of an opiate. It is often given to heroin dependent addicts in an attempt to wean them off of drugs and/or help them to work and be self sufficient while on a prescribed medication. Methadone is very addictive and I saw few clients actually be able to go drug free. What I did see was over a 60% full time employment rate, which was higher than most methadone clinics in the state. I had many clients who tested me to see if I could cut being their counselor. One of my most challenging clients was an African American woman who screamed at me: "How dare you care about me? Who the hell do you think you are?" She and I did come to some agreements and I watched her melt into an incredibly gentle, caring, kind person who was astonished that anyone, much less a white girl, could honor her being.
One of my other clients from that time was an African American man who struggled with alcoholism and was on parole for rape. He had deep eyes that could be amazingly gentle or hostile depending on the day. After testing me for months, he finally said: "Your kindness to me is surprising. I don't know why you are like this but I thank God for you."
I remember reading a story about two young boys who were from Newark who returned a wallet. They were both African American and the headline was about how wonderful it was that they were honest. A friend of mine from Newark, who was a very kind, honest, African American man said: "How sad is this that it made the headlines?" I would agree. This was also the same man who frequently got followed every night by the local police because he worked a late shift and walked from the train station to his apartment in a predominately Caucasian neighborhood.
Atlantic City, Trenton, Newark among other cities in New Jersey are known for having predominately minority communities. I was blessed to know some very loving people who resided in these places.
One of my most difficult experiences was working in Georgia in the 1980's. The program I speak of was for children and young adults who had mental health issues and had been caught up in the juvenile system. I was horrified to see our clients brought to us by law enforcement in handcuffs and shackles. This outrageous treatment of human beings was not the worst I saw in Georgia. The campuses of this program were still segregated, something which I thought had ended decades before. The biases of people in Georgia from the Caucasian director who found me way too opinionated for my own good, to my incredibly racist landlord, to my college experiences which involved being followed and ticketed because I dare befriend a classmate who was African American still are emblazoned in my heart. I was stunned over the outrageous prejudice and racism all around me.
Every storm has a gentle rainbow and for me it was my friendship with a co-worker who was an amazingly kind and loving man. He was a very religious, dark skinned, African American man who did his best to explain to my angry, hostile, narrow minded youthful ignorance that hate solved nothing. His words: "Sue, I've been hated for who I am and what I look like all my life. Hating solves nothing. Only love changes hate." I truly honored this man and was grateful he was one of the people the administration deemed professional. I watched our clients in that program be nurtured by him and our direct care staff, all of whom were African American. Most of the "professional" staff was Caucasian. I watched these children be loved and nourished by people the system deemed uneducated. Our kids got well despite our professional interventions in my opinion. Love is what healed them, I know. Georgia is still not a place I can think of without pain yet I learned so much during those times.
I have struggled to love that which I find painful, heartbreaking, cruel, violent, and dishonorable. This world is full of hate. It's all around us and sadly often within us. Loving that which is so wicked is not to give it power or justification. It is rather to honor the Divine and the power that faith, grace, and spiritual love can bring to any situation.
There are cultures, languages, countries, traditions, and behaviors I don't understand nor do I pretend to, that occur around me all the time. I am humbled by the power of God's love to transform hate. I don't honor cruelty, viciousness or bias. I am realizing more and more how hating hate solves nothing. Hate is so alluring. It gives such an illusion of power when in reality it is empty and impotent.
I believe the world is a violent and hateful place often, yet it is never without love, kindness and grace. I choose to live my life taking responsibility for my fears, biases, and confusion. I am an earthly mortal doing my best to honor my own spark of Divinity.
While working in Atlantic City, most of the members of my closest circles were African Americans. I remember the looks when we would walk into a nightclub and I was usually one of only a handful of Caucasians. My friends were very loyal and their response to most of the judgmental sentiment around was: "She's with us". I did my best to return the favor when a friend, who was African American, and I went to lunch. The wait staff was less than thrilled of who my dining partner was and little things began to add up. My salad was prettier than hers. My refills were faster. My dessert looked just a bit nicer than hers. I was enraged; my friend was aware. We decided that a tip that reflected OUR service was to make one point and a chat with the manager was to make another. I remember that day and I remember feeling horrible about what happened. My friend did her best to explain to me how often these kinds of things happened to her. We made a pact that day that others' biases would not stop our friendship or our enjoying life! The shame I felt for the behavior, which was not my fault, stays with me to this day.
I remember applying for a job working in the changing county welfare system in Atlantic City. My interview questions were direct and powerful and I watched as my multicultural interviewers shifted in their opinion of this "white girl". I got the job and I remember the biases of my co-workers when I went to go sit and visit with our clients. None of them, regardless of race, even seemed to see me when I was with our clients. Apparently some biases go way beyond race.
When I was in Trenton, I worked in an inner city methadone clinic. Methadone is a synthetic form of an opiate. It is often given to heroin dependent addicts in an attempt to wean them off of drugs and/or help them to work and be self sufficient while on a prescribed medication. Methadone is very addictive and I saw few clients actually be able to go drug free. What I did see was over a 60% full time employment rate, which was higher than most methadone clinics in the state. I had many clients who tested me to see if I could cut being their counselor. One of my most challenging clients was an African American woman who screamed at me: "How dare you care about me? Who the hell do you think you are?" She and I did come to some agreements and I watched her melt into an incredibly gentle, caring, kind person who was astonished that anyone, much less a white girl, could honor her being.
One of my other clients from that time was an African American man who struggled with alcoholism and was on parole for rape. He had deep eyes that could be amazingly gentle or hostile depending on the day. After testing me for months, he finally said: "Your kindness to me is surprising. I don't know why you are like this but I thank God for you."
I remember reading a story about two young boys who were from Newark who returned a wallet. They were both African American and the headline was about how wonderful it was that they were honest. A friend of mine from Newark, who was a very kind, honest, African American man said: "How sad is this that it made the headlines?" I would agree. This was also the same man who frequently got followed every night by the local police because he worked a late shift and walked from the train station to his apartment in a predominately Caucasian neighborhood.
Atlantic City, Trenton, Newark among other cities in New Jersey are known for having predominately minority communities. I was blessed to know some very loving people who resided in these places.
One of my most difficult experiences was working in Georgia in the 1980's. The program I speak of was for children and young adults who had mental health issues and had been caught up in the juvenile system. I was horrified to see our clients brought to us by law enforcement in handcuffs and shackles. This outrageous treatment of human beings was not the worst I saw in Georgia. The campuses of this program were still segregated, something which I thought had ended decades before. The biases of people in Georgia from the Caucasian director who found me way too opinionated for my own good, to my incredibly racist landlord, to my college experiences which involved being followed and ticketed because I dare befriend a classmate who was African American still are emblazoned in my heart. I was stunned over the outrageous prejudice and racism all around me.
Every storm has a gentle rainbow and for me it was my friendship with a co-worker who was an amazingly kind and loving man. He was a very religious, dark skinned, African American man who did his best to explain to my angry, hostile, narrow minded youthful ignorance that hate solved nothing. His words: "Sue, I've been hated for who I am and what I look like all my life. Hating solves nothing. Only love changes hate." I truly honored this man and was grateful he was one of the people the administration deemed professional. I watched our clients in that program be nurtured by him and our direct care staff, all of whom were African American. Most of the "professional" staff was Caucasian. I watched these children be loved and nourished by people the system deemed uneducated. Our kids got well despite our professional interventions in my opinion. Love is what healed them, I know. Georgia is still not a place I can think of without pain yet I learned so much during those times.
I have struggled to love that which I find painful, heartbreaking, cruel, violent, and dishonorable. This world is full of hate. It's all around us and sadly often within us. Loving that which is so wicked is not to give it power or justification. It is rather to honor the Divine and the power that faith, grace, and spiritual love can bring to any situation.
There are cultures, languages, countries, traditions, and behaviors I don't understand nor do I pretend to, that occur around me all the time. I am humbled by the power of God's love to transform hate. I don't honor cruelty, viciousness or bias. I am realizing more and more how hating hate solves nothing. Hate is so alluring. It gives such an illusion of power when in reality it is empty and impotent.
I believe the world is a violent and hateful place often, yet it is never without love, kindness and grace. I choose to live my life taking responsibility for my fears, biases, and confusion. I am an earthly mortal doing my best to honor my own spark of Divinity.
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