Month: March 2023

When I was a senior in college I rented an apartment off campus with my friend Rose. It was a funky one bedroom with a lot of windows and a fireplace in the living room. I loved that space. We had many adventures. And whenever things got rough, we would have a glass or two of wine, and then throw the glasses in the fireplace. Watching them shatter was supremely satisfying, and wine glasses are cheap to replace.

These days I exercise to deal with the stresses and angers of life. Or call sympathetic friends. I try not to break things too often because I don’t want to clean it up. But I think everyone needs to be intentional about healthy ways to deal with our anger. There is a lot in this world to be frustrated about.

When I saw the pictures of the children who died in the Nashville shooting, my anger was back in full force. It defies reason that we can’t agree on practical and reasonable gun control, that we find any value in assault weapons, and that we worship an amendment rather than protect what was created in God’s image. I don’t understand and it makes me very angry.

And because this killing of our children happens like clockwork, it is hard to move past it. We are stuck in grief and horror so that we cannot move on. And the anger that comes from that runs deep in our souls. There are not enough wine glasses or exercise machines for that level of fury and fear.

I am not sure what I can do to make things better. Being stuck in anger is not a healthy thing, and to ignore reality is socially irresponsible. So we are somewhere in the middle with constant jabs into an already open wound, and seemingly no hope it will get better. Our only strategy seems to be to speak the truth when we can, encourage progress when it seems possible, and let our energy fuel a desire to keep working for peace, reconciliation, and a world that doesn’t solve it’s problems with violence. We resolve that this is a lifetime of work, we are all responsible, and we have to be peace if we want peace.

So I get on the treadmill every day and do my own work so that I can work for others. That has to be enough for now.

Recently I was at a party at my son’s house. It was family and his friends, and toward the end they started playing this game, What Do You Meme? It’s kind of like Apples to Apples. There is a picture and you have cards with funny captions, and you pick the caption you think best captures the picture for the person whose turn it is to judge. You win by having the most matches. Check it out, it’s fun.

The experience was humbling, playing as an older person with a group of sharp 30-somethings. There were occasional cultural references, some of a personal nature, that I had never heard. You know you are with good people when they can explain these things to you without shame.

There were references that were extremely funny to me that they didn’t appreciate, and vice versa. I actually did better than I thought predicting what young people would think was compelling. Overall, I learned from the differences in our perspectives. And we laughed a lot.

On the way home, I thought how seductive perception can be. We form our viewpoints from our experiences, which are fact. But how we interpret them is opinion, which is not fact. Our perspective is skewed by any number of things. It is easy, so easy, to think that because we believe it to be true, it is.

I was told recently that facts don’t matter, that perception is reality. Except that it is not. Perception is just an opinion that you think is true. Our responsibility is to check the facts and to submit our perspective to the community. When we test our theories and perspectives with people we trust, we can hear when we are being unfair, judgmental, or totally on point. We discern together the truth and how we can use it for the common good.

I am learning to check my perceptions, to be flexible in my perspectives and to be careful about how I construct my reality. The more we are in a safe and loving community, the easier this can be.

I have just returned from a fabulous trip, a lovely vacation. I am counting my blessings and acknowledging my privilege. I went to Italy, someplace I have always dreamed of going. And it did not disappoint.

One moment that stands out for me was in Florence. We were walking around, just taking in the sites after arriving by train and settling into our accommodations. As we wandered the streets, I heard singing, like real singing. Someone good.

We followed the music and there was a man singing arias with music in the background. He gathered quite a crowd. It was so beautiful, this music on the street, that it brought tears to my eyes. He had a basket for donations, and people were putting in some money. But it was nothing compared to what was being offered.

I was moved by his music but more by his generosity. He was sharing a tremendous gift for the pleasure of people passing by. He could hoard the gift, only use it transactionally, not share it at all. But he gave it away.

It made me wonder about my own generosity, and how freely I offer gifts which were freely given to me. Our society needs to cultivate a gracious and joyful ability to give without any guarantee of return.

As part of my Lenten prayer, I am going to try to offer myself more generously, and be sure I am giving with joy.