Peace by Piece

Feeling pissed (“angry, fed up”–per the Online Etymological Dictionary) is an opportunity to do P.I.S.T.: Pollyanna-Ish Self-Talk.

I repeat:  Feeling pissed?  Do P.I.S.T.

‘How does one do P.I.S.T?’ you ask yourself.  You do it by asking yourself,  ‘What can I be glad about in this situation?’  That is Pollyanna’s “Glad Game.”   (Never heard of it? It’s in the book that bears her name! A great read!)

Remember that life teaches us many things.  Find those things–make it a game!  I’m hoping to remember this form of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, myself.  It’s kind of . . . catchy.

Go ahead and get pissed, but then do PIST!

[Note: These terms just occurred to me as I was replying to my niece's Facebook post warning against mixing soda pop and laptop use. My personal muse must be working overtime! Ha ha! ]

Several years ago when living in Salt Lake I had a conversation with a co-worker of my husband, a born-again Christian. He made a comment I completely disagreed with, namely: “God gave us commandments expecting that we’d break them.” I viewed his statement as a false, almost blasphemous, doctrine. Surely God gave us commandments fully expecting us to obey them!  I found his interpretation of God’s mercy (“I gave you commandments so you will know your need for me when you fail to live them.  Your obedience is not required, just your humility”) pathetic—robbing justice, as it were—which would make us out to be wimpish pawns in the hands of a narcissistic God.

For years before and following that conversation, I tried with all my might to perfect myself (by keeping the commandments I believed God had given us) in order to be worthy of His love. The hardest commandments for me were always  the ones related to my relationship with others– the Sermon on the Mount material: not getting angry, not reacting to offenses, being merciful, etc. Knowing of my frequent failure to live up to the standards set forth in that sermon (I knew I was an angry mother), I often felt unworthy to even approach God in prayer.  Rather than “picking myself up” and apologizing when I had been unkind, however, I usually ended up going over and over my character flaws in my head and yet redoubling my efforts only in those areas I had better control over: attending the temple, fulfilling my calling, working on my grandparents’ life histories, etc. Although I can recognize now several instances over those years in which I felt God whisper peace to my  heart,  inviting me to trust in His love, I was too engrossed in my mission of self-perfection to really hear.

A pivotal change of perspective came one day when I went to the woods to pray. Feeling ashamed that the day before I had given in to the passion of anger—losing control and cruelly yelling at my children on many occasions—I wanted to plead for Heaven’s help to change! After walking up to a secluded area, I knelt down, desiring to pray.  But I couldn’t even begin. I felt so unworthy of talking to–“being in the presence of”–God! All I could muster was a tearful, desperate question: “Father, what do you think of me when I get angry like that?”

An answer came to my mind almost instantaneously: “Why do you think I gave you repentance?”

I was stunned, realizing what that phrase suggested.  “You mean, you gave me repentance for each time I make a mistake?  That it’s a way for me to acknowledge my mistake and return back to your ‘good graces,’ even though I might carelessly do it again?!”

Now repentance is a principle I thought I had understood. I had graduated from seminary, taken numerous religion courses at BYU, served a mission, and taught this principle from the pulpit. Repentance was only sincere and effective, I’d understood, when a person recognized their mistake, felt remorse, confessed the transgression to the appropriate authorities, asked for forgiveness, made restitution, and overcame the sin. Herein was my stumbling block for believing in God’s mercy.  In order to merit forgiveness for my anger (or any of my other shortcomings), I had to overcome those weaknesses myself.  Or so I had believed.

Yet the answer I got at that moment–that repentance was a gift for each time I lived below my ideal–was powerful revelation, the very means to peace for a self-consumed perfectionist like myself!  It helped me to believe that God knows we will make a lot of mistakes in our lives which will cause us pain and regret.  But, rather than having us wallow in self-loathing, He invites us to rise out of regret to refreshing repentance: ready to admit our actions and to set things right.  Feelings of remorse for mistakes can instruct rather than destroy us, I realized, if we view them as powerful evidence of our desire to do good.  Recalling that fact will help us feel God’s mercy afresh.  We came from love, we’re “made” of love, and we can return to a loving state each time we notice our departure–so long as we don’t give up on ourselves.  Repentance really is a gift!

Last Friday I noticed a penny on the rug in our sitting room.  With a lot of things to do in preparation for our marathon the next day, I gave it little thought and turned to head upstairs. Almost immediately I felt a strong impression to pick it up. Hmmm, I wondered, Did this thought come because I recently met that grandpa who always picks up pennies? Silly, impressionable me! I started to resume my course but stopped, feeling again the impression that I should pick up the penny–that it held an important key in my quest for peace.

Yeah, right!, you’re thinking. Weird, I know. But allow me to point out that I’ve done a lot of soul searching recently—a lot of listening for the wisdom of my inner voice—which is why such a thought as That penny is important engaged rather than shocked me. Ready to learn, I stooped down and picked up the penny.

Up close, I looked at that penny as if for the first time. Abe Lincoln in profile. Year stamp. Lincoln Memorial. E pluribus unum.

‘Latin.  Hmm. How would I choose to translate that?  Let’s see . . . “Though many, one”?’

Then it hit me. ‘We’re many, but we’re one!  That sounds like Neale Walsch’s explanation that we’re all individuations of one divinity. That would mean . . .’

What we do unto others, we do unto ourselves!

and,

What we do to ourselves, we do unto others!

Of course!  When we harm others, we are harming part of our selves (that inner, connected part).  When we serve others, we are likewise serving a part of our inner selves!  When we live joyfully, we are sharing our joyous energy with others.  When we complain and criticize others, we are reinforcing internal judgment of ourselves at the same time. Fascinating thought!

It makes me curious.  I wonder if the ethical imperative of the Golden Rule (“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” or “Do not unto others what you would not want done unto you” (Buddhist version)) actually evolved over time and across traditions to its current translations. Could it be that the earliest mystics perceived that our spiritual connections resulted in our being affected by our treatment of others, and others being affected by how we treat ourselves?

I love the idea that we are connected, and that our living joyfully benefits not only ourselves but all around us. That potential is an acute reminder, too, not to harm others, for such actions would damage a part of ourselves.  E pluribus unum.

Is a greater understanding of our connectedness the “key” to my peace?  I don’t know.  But I know that I’ve recalled this thought on occasions since then, which has motivated me to be a little kinder than I normally would be–both to myself, and to others.  Maybe it is kindness that is the key.

Too many perfectionists (myself included) take their mental and emotional health too seriously.  Unfortunately–at least in this case–focusing our undivided attention on something tends to magnify and increase it, whether it is beneficial to us or not.

I wonder if we perfectionists could “give it a rest” (the mental/emotional stewing over what isn’t working in our lives) by turning our focus to:

- Fueling our bodies well,

- Getting out and doing exercise that we love,

- Making real (not mental) living a practicum of peace (see upcoming blog), and

- Obeying our bodies’ cues for rest

It’s important for us to practice what we want to learn and live.  We should live peace rather than puzzling over the preventors of our peace.  (Are you listening, Shaunalei?!)

I just read a Facebook post in which the author lamented the condescending, “superior” attitude of what she calls open-minded liberals towards those of more conservative belief.  I couldn’t help thinking, “Look in the mirror.”  Both sides act condescendingly towards others who do not believe as they do, it seems to me.

I thought about that tendency we have to think highly of ourselves and judgmentally toward the opposition, and wrote up the following reply:

“We are all deeply invested in our ideas and almost always value them over opposing opinions. Pretty universal. Religious people value scriptural definitions of right and wrong; non-religious/”open-minded” people let their hearts decide.  Ideally, we’d learn to discuss ideas respectfully without attacking the character of our theoretical opponents. People are of worth, even if their current ideas are perverse. (I can’t think of one person, myself included, devoid of at least one bad ideal. Let’s judge bad ideas, not people.)”

I wish spiritual authorities the world over embraced the principle that individuals have a right and obligation to discover for themselves spiritual “truth” rather than an obligation (with eternal consequences!) to accept the spiritual “truth” contained within their specific religious tradition and revealed holy books. In other words, I wish spiritual leaders gave people “a right to faith” rather than an alleged “right faith”. Unitarian Universalism holds up this ideal. The COJCOLDS, along with many other religious groups, does not. I hope that I, personally, can more fully embrace the idea that all people, whether devout or not, whether still in the LDS church or not, have a “right to faith” rather than the need to come to “right faith,” however I define that for myself.

Ironically, the “right faith” that I currently accept as universally applicable is belief in there being no universal, “right” faith for people here in mortality. I believe that it is “right” to believe that faith is ultimately an individual endeavor at spirituality (striving for truth), a personal search for God/godliness through contemplation, experience, and conscience. Accepting this principle as the one and only “right faith,” I feel motivated to broaden the perspective of my friends away from the narrow idea that a person must have right faith, right thought, right ordination, right obedience, or right rites in order to fulfill his/her earthly mission and pass the “test” of faith necessary to “earn” heaven/Nirvana/celestial glory/etc. Being raised in such a context is so limiting, in my opinion, much like the experience of those alluded to in Plato’s Republic, those “stuck” in a cave of shadows (Allegory of the Cave). The difference between being confined to a cave of defined religious dogma and coming out to explore truth/reality/faith without fear of God’s condemnation is shocking and blinding at first. I remember it well. But it is also exhilarating and beautiful–an experience I would love to give my friends, even if not “necessary” for God’s approbation of them nor to give their lives meaning and purpose. They already are worthwhile, and beloved of God, I believe–regardless of what they believe. I do not believe, however, that they are “free.”

Those of us who’ve left the LDS cave so want to share our new experiences with those still in! Most are not ready to listen, let alone leave the cave. How to prepare them? That is the question–and the purpose of this post.

It is my current theory that, rather than attacking the authors and/or historicity of the COJCOLDS’ scriptures, rather than casting doubt on the subjective spiritual experiences of its founder, Joseph smith, the better way to prepare friends for the idea that there is a world/reality outside the cave is to participate with them in open-ended discussions of The Plan of Salvation. Our TBM friends and family may not be able to walk out of the cave immediately following such discussions, but they will at least have “food for thought” to chew on for a while. If the discussion prepares them to consider other possibilities, to think rather than immediately accept, to grow in compassion toward those who feel the need to leave the cave, then ultimately it will have been worth the time, even if they choose to remain inside.

So here are some notes I’ve compiled today as potential discussion questions/dialogues:

The Plan of Salvation inspires many questions. Have you ever thought:
* Why would God send his children through a veil of forgetfulness and then proceed to expect them to “get everything right” in terms of faith and works before being able to return to him? Why would he set up such conditions for the “test of faith”? Is it a fair test?

* Why would god even choose to test our faith? Why not just test our compliance to His will after His personal appearance to each of us to explain what was true and what He wanted us to do? Wouldn’t that be the only fair test?

* Why would God expect us to look to self-proclaimed prophets as authorities on His will? Relying on such a process leaves us VERY vulnerable to charismatic, narcissistic sociopaths who would love nothing more than to have a following and run our lives for us. Are we really equipped to discern which religious “authorities” are inspired and which are just delusional, corrupt, or well-intended-but-wrong?  Are the writings of self-proclaimed prophets any more reliable than their statements/pronouncements?  How do we know which holy writ is indeed holy?

* If our coming to freely accept “right belief” were important to God, wouldn’t He intervene more in the personal lives of his billions of children on earth to help them leave false tradition and embrace His ultimate “truth” before they died? In the history of the world, hasn’t the spread of religion happened more by threat of damnation, high birth rates within (and subsequent loyalty to) an existing religious heritage, and/or “the sword” (convert or die), rather than by God personally revealing a new path to people? Even if God chose to work through a “chosen” faith’s proselytizing efforts, how effective has it been for bringing His billions of beloved children to “right belief” and consensual conversion?

*Is God going to judge us for “incorrect belief”? If not, what matters to Him? If “correct belief” during mortality is not necessary for salvation, why would there be any urgency at all for missionary work?

* What, if anything, is man’s universal duty to God while here on earth–regardless of the faith tradition he/she is born into? What does He whisper to individual hearts? Is it consistent? What has He whispered to you? Most people of faith talk of spiritual experiences with God/Spirit–but the “messages” they receive are not always universal? Why is that? Why doesn’t God reveal Himself consistently to people who pray sincerely to know Him?

Many more such discussions could develop along those lines.

I wish all to be freed from belief in the necessity of “right belief,” that they may be free to believe in their God-given “right to believe” whatever they deem most beautiful and meaningful–without fear-filled self-censoring or despotic demands for conformity/orthodoxy. Hopefully discussions of the Plan of Salvation can happen without either of those negative behaviors rearing their ugly heads.

(I also invite everyone to try out a UU service. They’re quite lovely–I love the openness of thought I’ve found there.)

Cheers!
Shaunalei

Holy cow, I just read a very powerful article which I think should be read by all parents, grandparents, leaders of youth, school administrators, and–especially–teachers!  It’s called  “On the Perils and Promises of Praise,” written by Stanford pscyhology professor, Carol S. Dweck.

She explains that, per careful, controlled studies, giving children the wrong kind of praise (such as “You’re so smart!  You’re going to make a difference in the world!”) makes them afraid of mistakes, unwilling to work through difficult challenges, and addicted to outside positive assessments such as grades (even being willing to cheat to get good scores).

On the other hand, praise that focuses on individual effort (such as “I see that you’ve made a lot of progress on that problem.  Great work!  Keep at it–your brain is getting a great workout!), coupled with explanations about how brains can be “grown” through mental effort and the acquisition of new knowledge, produces in students a marked increase in motivation to work hard in school.

Looking back at my obsession with straight A’s during my school years, and the paralysis I’ve experienced as an adult from believing “I can change the world because I’m so smart” yet drowning in caution and uncertainty because I fear failure, I see that my experiences are a testament to what she’s concluded.

The article is available on the Walden School website.

Ever been disappointed in your son and expressed that curtly to him without thought for even one of his good points? Ever gone days barking out commands to your daughter without thanking her for being in your life? Every wished to be a hermit in the hills, because life without kids would be so much easier?!

Guilty as charged!

As a mother, I’ve often had unrelenting EXPECTATIONS of my children which have gotten in the way of my enjoyment of the beautiful, individual souls that they are and the blessing they are in my life. In fact, my disappointment in their decisions/behavior has lead to downright depression at different times over the years of my mothering! In such moments, I’ve focused exclusively on the external things I value (clean home, productive use of time, meaningful dinner table conversation, fingers out of one’s nose, etc.) rather than these precious people in my life. Self-serving expectations of what family members “should be doing” has caused me to judge them harshly, preventing me from seeing that the differences in our personalities and priorities allow us to learn much from each other. Our differences are meaningful.

Naomi Aldort, a licensed therapist, has written a “Declaration of Complete Confidence in Children.” It states:
1. Adult-like behavior matures by the time we are adults.
2. No expectations means no disappointments for us, and no damaging pressures for our children.
3. Children respond best to modeling and leadership, not control.
4. Trust… and wait.
5. Choose between your momentary convenience and your long-term goal for your child’s sense of self.
6. Enjoy your child for who he is, not for who you would like him to be – he will never be this age again.
7. Distinguish between your emotional needs and what your child feels and needs. Act toward your child in harmony with her needs; take care of your emotional needs elsewhere.
8. Celebrate your child’s uniqueness as well as your own.

I’m intrigued by what she believes—that we should be attempting to get to know our children rather than mold them, that they did not come into our lives to serve us other than to take our breath away as we witness them grow and blossom into the uniquely-beautiful individuals that they are. She reminds us that they are like seeds which we cannot yet identify. All the potential for greatness is there, but it will only come to full fruition if nourished by love, kindness, compassion, and acceptance of who they inherently are. It takes time to encourage and witness the unfolding–the blossoming–of their souls, but well worth the effort! If we have eyes to see, if we’re interested observers, we can enjoy the process rather than being constantly disappointed in them. Quite profound.

Obviously, having a household means there’s work to be done. However, I’m beginning to grasp—slow-learner that I can be at times–that if I focus more on loving and appreciating my family members than on making unending demands of them, they will ultimately be interested in my happiness as well and be willing to step in when they see I genuinely need their help. Not that they will ever love doing chores. Not that they won’t sometimes stall for a while in the hopes that my need will change. But, hopefully, my appreciation of them will help them trust me—trust that my reasons for requesting their help are good (i.e. not just laziness on my part). The key is loving communication. If the first thing we say to family members when they wake up or walk through the door is, “I need you to . . .,” they will withdraw emotionally from us, assuming that all we value about them is their labor. If, instead, we can ask them about their plans for the day, be interested in their ideas and aware of their needs, and only LATER solicit their cooperation in meeting some of our needs, we will have a “home”–not just a “household.”

I remember putting on paper a couple of years ago, in a writing exercise I had proposed for the children and myself, my greatest fears.  It was quite instructive—enlightening, clarifying to my conscious mind the fears that were working on me.  What I learned about myself that day was that I fear . . . making mistakes.

I don’t know how accurate the “Color Code” is–perhaps it’s more a measure of our preferences than our inherent personalities—but I took that personality test several years ago and was told (per the results) that I was almost equally red and blue: passionate/pro-active and associative/purposeful.   As I consider now the effect of these preferences on my mental and emotional health, I wonder if a lot of the depression I’ve felt over the years came as a result of believing:

1) that I could know the right/best things one should do, and

2) that I could actually do the right/best things that one should do, and

3) that I was accountable before God for my failure to do those things he expected me to do (or to master).

I tried to do everything right, but the very stress which such an effort produces made me ill-equipped for the difficult moments in life when things don’t go as planned or desired.  Despite my previous good intentions, my reaction during such difficulties was angry outbursts or neglectful inactivity.  After such “failures,” I allowed myself to be racked with guilt and self-loathing rather than relying on God’s understanding and compassion for imperfect me.  I could not get past my belief that my mistakes made me unworthy of God’s love, especially since I was definitely a repeat offender.

Ironically, fearing mistakes just primed me to make more.  Perhaps not major “sins,” but the mistakes that come of controlling others, overreacting, inflexibility, ingratitude, emotional isolation, and joyless deference to duty.

Fearing God’s displeasure over my mistakes did not make me a better person; it primed me for obsessiveness and depression.  Likewise detrimental was believing that my church alone knew God’s ultimate truth and will for mankind, which caused me to be judgmental and condescending toward those who failed to comply with our LDS standards/commandments.

My fear of mistake-making was paralyzing and problematic on many fronts.  I now believe that it was also unnecessary.

Mistakes are instructive!  God must know we are going to make mistakes and suffer some regret for our poor judgment—that is our lot in this package deal called mortal life.  But I believe he also gave us the capacity to learn from those mistakes, to change our minds, to try out new actions.  If he is an omniscient God, he knows perfectly well how and why it is that we make mistakes.

Trusting in God’s love and support allows us to pick ourselves up after failing to live up to our own expectations for ourselves.  Such trust keeps us from the debilitating choice of despairing.

I’m grateful that to some degree I have overcome my fear of making mistakes.  I trust in God’s mercy–and I’m learning to trust that life isn’t as high-risk as I once thought it was!  While acknowledging the seeming complexity of modern life, I choose to view it as a grand adventure–an unparalleled opportunity to examine and sample the possibilities.  Sorry Yoda, there is a “try”!

Life is so much more exciting and pleasant with the perspective that God has planned life to be a grand experiment, not a final exam. We’re here experimenting with life, doing what we can and learning as we go, God willing!  It’s all good.

Yesterday afternoon I started to feel irritated, for various reasons.  I began to micromanage my son as he did his assigned chore, demanding that he re-do it three times until I considered it “perfect.”  Already ornery, I walked upstairs and learned that my daughter had not begun her math assignment–which meant I soundly berated her for wasting her time.  Annoyed at the smaller children for having made a mess in the master bedroom, I refused to help when they asked for my assistance.  I could feel my anger growing and knew that this bad mood was threatening to suffocate the life out of my afternoon.

Thankfully, I did something about it!  Remembering the little I’ve read about cognitive behavioral processes, I decided to try to consciously alter my mood.  The strategy I chose for myself was: “Do something productive!” (Which perfectionist doesn’t love that?!).  I headed straight for my den, looking for a “project.”  I saw one waiting for me when I got there: a newspaper article I had been intending to scan and email to my family.  I set to work, accomplished my little feat, and was almost instantly in a better mood!  I apologized to my kids at dinner for having been such a jerk, and then gave them some personal time with me before bed.

Three cheers for mood management!

Thankfully, I get angry at my kids much less often than I used to.  I’ll post the story of  “why that is” soon.