Author: Nathan Croy

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Mediocre Expectations

     Kierkegaard, in Works of Love (2009, p. 246) writes that “The eternal does not even understand, it divorces itself as vanity the cleverness which speaks only about the extent to which one’s expectation has been fulfilled but does not at all consider just what the expectation was. In eternity everyone will be compelled to understand that it is not the result which determines honour and shame, but the expectation itself. Therefore, in eternity it is precisely the unloving one, who perhaps was proved right in what he [frivolously], enviously, hatefully expected for the other person, who will be put to shame — although his expectation was fulfilled”. Expectations matter. But what may be even more important than our expectation is an awareness of them and then being able to act on them authentically; genuinely.
     I remember reading a case about a man who desperately wanted a divorce, but was unable to ask his wife for one for multiple reasons. Instead, he began verbally and emotionally abusing her. It started a little at a time with passive aggressive comments about her cooking, her weight, or how long it took her to get ready. These escalated into more direct comments about who she was a person, how she was a failure, and could never make anyone happy. This went on for several months, nearly a year, before, she had an affair and left eventually left him.
     After the divorce he found himself in therapy trying to make sense of why he wasn’t happy. After several months, the therapist asked, if he could remarry his ex-wife, would he?  After thinking about it, he said no. The therapist then asked, “so, what’s the problem?” The client looked up and said, “the problem is, she left me and I was supposed to leave her.”
     These things may seem like technicalities or hair splitting, but they matter because they expose intent. If this man had been authentic and asked his wife for a divorce there would have been fighting, but there was plenty of that anyway. What he would have retained is the knowledge that he was honest; i.e., genuine because his intent was congruent with his act. And who knows, maybe a marriage could’ve been saved because both parties would know something was wrong. With his passive aggressive and inauthentic actions, his wife, and his self, were merely fighting shadows. Inauthenticity produces anxiety that takes an excessive amount of time to abate. Authenticity may produce discomfort and fear, but not anxiety. Discomfort and fear may give way to acceptance and courage. If anxiety as the byproduct of inauthentic actions, it merely conceives more anxiety.

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Just Love.

   What hill am I willing to die on? This is an important question, and one everyone should know. For every aspect of our existence, in each phase, we will have to fight some battles. Deciding which ones are worth fighting is often more important than how many battles we win. Even if someone had an adequate amount of resources and energy to fight every battle, they would eventually run out of time. And, more likely than not, they would run out of ground (i.e., they would be on the morally wrong side of at least a few of the battles). This leads us to learn how to prioritize; figure out what matters and why. In my own life this has not always been easy. I am often overwhelmed by the moment and lose sight of context. However, an attempt at increasing personal awareness of our own priorities should be done at frequent intervals, otherwise, we may forget what is important.

      This week I read John 15:17. It quotes Jesus saying, “This is my command: Love each other” (NIV). When Christ was put in the position to summarize all of Scripture and God’s desire for our lives, he summed it up in three words: “Love each other”. That was, quite literally, the hill he died on. I will not often get into theological issues on this blog because I want it to be as inclusive as possible and, for many people, any theological statement becomes one they want to die on. I’m not interested in that. What I am interested in is my own hill. For me, the hill I am willing to die is “Love each other”.
     What I am discovering is this: love is very difficult. Trying to decipher what the most loving action or intent is in any given situation quickly reveals how limited my scope of awareness is. I am certain that I will be a failure at loving everyone. I am equally as certain that I will still try. What would it mean if you joined me?

 
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Not me, nor I

    “So modern man was set up in an undeclared war upon himself. ‘Conquering ourselves’ of the Victorian nineteenth century became ‘manipulating ourselves’ in the twentieth. The human dilemma of subject relating to object…became perverted into the subject, ‘I’, exploiting the rest of myself, the impersonal object ‘It’. This sets up a vicious circle — one of the outcomes of which is the overflowing of our psychological clinics. The vicious circle can find relief, so long as it remains within this deteriorated form of the dilemma, only in the diminishing of the subject, that is, the reduction of consciousness. But alas! we cannot in the long run expect healing to come from applying more of the same disease we seek to cure.” ~ Rollo May, Psychology and the Human Dilemma (1996, p. 79)

     Read Huxley, Postman, Buber, Frankl, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Fromm, or a hundred other authors who focus on the existence of individuals in relation to themselves, and a theme will emerge. Primarily, I believe, this theme is ultimately one of fear. The distraction to the point of losing one’s self that May’s quote speaks about (above) is, on the surface, a form of denial. But the question that begs to be asked is this: What is it that I’m trying so hard to deny, i.e., what am I protecting myself from? The word “protect” implies threat, and the perception of a threat is met with fear.
     Denial is fear of reality. Pride is fear of powerlessness. Envy is fear of inadequacy. Gluttony is fear of poverty. Sloth is fear of failure. There may be room to disagree with me on the particulars, but the fact is this: Fear is ever present, it is only our awareness of the fear that wanes. One point I would like to be clear on is that I do not believe each of us is under a constant threat of loss or pain in some form or another. While the existence of potential for suffering is universal, the potential for joy is just as likely.
     Here’s the challenge: Find your fear, face it. If my struggle is pride, what would it mean to be powerless? If my struggle is enviousness, what would it mean to not have “it”? Am I gluttonous? What would it mean to give something away? Am I slothful? What would it mean to try and fail? If we begin asking these questions, with trusted friends and/or professionals we may discovery a bravery that we had forgotten long ago. Begin asking the question without being so concerned with the answer, and you may be pleasantly surprised at how enjoyable the challenge of fear can become.

copyright Perryscanlon.com
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The Crisis of Right Now.

     Religious or not, lessons can be learned from the Israelites. One instance that never sat well with me is their inability to have faith even when their God was sending food from heaven, guiding them by a column of fire, and sheltering them with a constant cloud. It’s not within the scope of this blog to get into the factuality or interpretation of Scripture. Even taken as an allegory or story, this is a beautiful lesson in habituation.
     For those of you not psychologically minded, let me explain: Habituation is the ability of an organism to get use to something. Things that were once not normal, become everyday. We habituate to our pay increase, how fast we’re going on the highway, and to the temperature of the water in the pool. Initially, these things may jar or startle us, but we acclimate to them and then ignore them. While there are limits, there is very little to which we cannot habituate. Habituation makes sense, otherwise we would walk around so constantly amazed at everything we wouldn’t be able to hold a job, a conversation, or consistent thought. We would constantly be aware of the clothes we have on, our scent, or our own heart beating. That’s no way to go through life. But just because we aren’t constantly aware of these things, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pay attention to them at times. It just means that paying attention has to be intentional.
     This becomes especially important in the “crisis of right now”. If the “crisis of right now” overwhelms the accomplishments of “yesterdays then”, we may readily succumb to universal thinking and global assessments. The top phrase to demonstrate this has to be, “Nothing will ever change!” In those four words the entirety of all existence and time has been condemned to static nothingness. That’s fairly bold.
     The Israelites, in facing their “crisis of right now” neglected to remember the miracles of their “yesterdays then”. That God had showered them with food, protected them from the heat, brought forth water from rock, and guided them with fire, crumbled in their awareness of their immediate threat. They had become so habituated to the miraculous parts of their life, they failed to have hope. Whether those miracles really happened or not is beside the point.
     The point is this: How would I interact with my children differently if, amidst a tantrum, I was to stop and remember how I marveled at their birth? How would I interact with people differently if, amidst my frustration with them, I were to stop and remember the brevity of life? Perhaps, instead of stopping to smell the flowers, we should stop to remember the successes of “yesterday’s then” when overwhelmed with the crisis of “right now”.