I am an introvert who likes to avoid vulnerability if I can. SO- when I start to realize that the whole meaning of life and God and nature might be swirling around this thing we call "relationship"- it makes me a little anxious.
(A side-bar: relationship does not necessarily have to look a specific way to be meaningful. A mentor who has a child with autism taught me that.)
I am terrible at having multiple friends. Terrible. Someone gets neglected - for sure. Lately I've been meeting all these new fabulous people, and while I'm excited- I'm nervous. What if I disappoint someone? What if I make too many plans? What if I can't make plans? What if the plan I want to make is to sit in my pjs and read a book or watch a comedy?
Here is what I have decided. I will make it a point to make sure my introverted self is taken care of- but I'm no longer going to baby myself. I'm a grown woman. I can handle multiple relationships. And now more than ever, it is important that I give myself room to be stretched.
It's all about relationship- because relationships are the primary source of change and expansion (yes, I'm still hung up on the love expansion idea).
When I was in college, I met a boy who was completely different from anyone I had ever met. He was a practicing pagan (think earth-based, celtic magic). He was gay. And he was crazy smart and fun to be around.
Here are the shocking things that happened: we connected in a way that I had never connected with anyone else- even people who were "just like me." We shared a lot in common, and completely had different ideas about other things. AND IT WAS FUN. Somehow we were able to have that magical connection where he could say something that I was not 100% sure about, and vice-versa, and neither of us cared. He was so different that I had all my defenses down, I didn't expect him to agree with me- and neither did he expect me to agree with him, and that gave us a safe place to play with ideas. We were able to explore ideas and concepts in ways that I would never explore with someone who thought just like me. It's kind of counter-intuitive but when I reflect on it- it makes perfect sense.
This boy changed me. In a good way. His humanity and my ability to connect with him made me question the "otherness" that had been instilled in me to think about people like him. He wasn't a gay man or a pagan or whatever other title. He was my soul-sibling. I didn't care about any of the other stuff because you only run across those type of friendships every once and a while. I would take it in whatever package it came. I believe I changed him. I was the iconic image of all that had hurt him as a child, I represented the church that hurled insults and damnation at him as he struggled to "be good." My ability to listen to him was a healing space for him.
Our friendship allowed my friend to tell me about growing up in the church and sleeping with the bible under his pillow, praying that he wouldn't be gay. He told me about kids throwing rocks at him. He told me about his struggle to try to be anything other than who he was and it nearly destroyed him. He told me about his brave day when he told his grandma that he was gay, and she just looked at him nonplussed and said- yeah- I thought you might be. No love lost. What a relief it was. He told me about the acceptance that he felt with his pagan friends. The way that this particular faith was able to connect him to a God he had been chasing his whole life. I got that. And now I had heard a story of what it was like to grow up gay in the church, a story I had never heard from someone I knew.
Our friendship allowed me to tell him about how I always seemed to have too many questions for my Sunday School teachers. I was shushed if I talked too much. I was told to protect my body from the evils of impurity, but never quite understood what made my body so bad. I was told by the church that I should look for a spiritual leader, someone to submit to as a husband. I told him how relieved I was to find my own niche with progressive Christians who could use the same sacred text that had been used to shame me- they were able to find grace and beauty and intellect there. I found a home with other Christians who also had an insane amount of questions, but were given space and encouraged to ask them. I found that my God was still right there, and had always been, I just hadn't believed in my questions enough.
My faith as a Christian grew tenfold through my relationship with a pagan.
It's all about relationship. I am challenging myself this new year to pursue friendships with people who are not like me. To allow myself to be stretched, to be uncomfortable, so that I can grow. To allow myself to be a stretching catalyst for someone else, to be vulnerable enough that I can meet some more soul siblings.
It's all about relationship.
Our friendship allowed me to tell him about how I always seemed to have too many questions for my Sunday School teachers. I was shushed if I talked too much. I was told to protect my body from the evils of impurity, but never quite understood what made my body so bad. I was told by the church that I should look for a spiritual leader, someone to submit to as a husband. I told him how relieved I was to find my own niche with progressive Christians who could use the same sacred text that had been used to shame me- they were able to find grace and beauty and intellect there. I found a home with other Christians who also had an insane amount of questions, but were given space and encouraged to ask them. I found that my God was still right there, and had always been, I just hadn't believed in my questions enough.
My faith as a Christian grew tenfold through my relationship with a pagan.
It's all about relationship. I am challenging myself this new year to pursue friendships with people who are not like me. To allow myself to be stretched, to be uncomfortable, so that I can grow. To allow myself to be a stretching catalyst for someone else, to be vulnerable enough that I can meet some more soul siblings.
It's all about relationship.
No comments:
Post a Comment