Missing table fellowship…

I wasn’t sure whether to title this post “Missing table fellowship” or “Sometimes I feel isolated”…either would have been an appropriate title.

So what do I mean by that?

Many of you know that I have lived with MS (multiple sclerosis) since 1976. It’s gone mostly pretty well–at least since the first five years. Because of the vagaries of this auto-immune disease, there is some unpredictability to my life. I’ve learned to live with that.

But there’s one change MS has made to my experiences that creates that sense of loss. The one constant in my schedule is a daily nap. Sometimes it’s as short as 30 minutes; other times it’s as long as a couple of hours. There’s no specific time I have to take it–but I usually do it around noon. That’s what sometimes makes me feel isolated.

When I go to retreats or other all-day events, the schedule is often very full, with meetings leading right up to lunch and beginning again shortly after lunch. So my choices are (a) to forgo my nap…which really isn’t a choice, because if I do skip the nap, I suffer the consequences the next day, or (b) skip lunch in order to take my nap. Obviously, my choice is (b).

But that means that I miss table fellowship. It’s more than just sitting around the table, eating. It’s the visiting, the sharing, the continued development of community.

The people that I attend these events with are always very nice and very welcoming…but I often feel a little bit on the outside because I’ve missed that time of fellowship. (And when I fill out surveys afterwards, I usually mention that concern.)

There have been some events that I’ve attended where the schedule is wonderful! There is time set apart after lunch for everybody to spend some quiet time however they choose…napping, meditating, walking… At those events, I feel fully a part of the community, and I am very appreciative of the sensitivity of the schedulers.

I’m not casting blame on anyone. We’ve traditionally filled our schedules full, trying to get the “most bang for the bucks” when we pull a group of people together for these types of events. Sometimes, when I’ve mentioned my need for some time for a nap, the schedule has been arranged to allow that–not just for me, but for others who might find it useful as well.

I’m wondering if maybe it’s time that we consider that a period of intentional quiet time should be an important part of a scheduled event. I may use it for a nap (and so might others)…some might use it as an opportunity for meditating, walking, processing the events/information of the morning…

Maybe the Spanish custom of a siesta after lunch is something we should consider more seriously!

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“I know exactly how you feel…”

No, you don’t.

I appreciate that you are trying to express empathy with my situation, but unless you have walked in my shoes you really don’t know exactly how I feel.

Yes, sometimes you work so long and so hard that you get really tired. I get that. But the kind of tiredness that can be relieved by a good night’s sleep isn’t the same as the MS exhaustion I have to deal with sometimes…the kind that makes it impossible to keep my eyes open for a second longer…the kind that leaves me so drained that I can’t deal with anything or anybody…the kind that turns my brain to absolute mush and makes it impossible for me to string words together in a coherent fashion.

I understand that if you’ve pushed yourself on a hike or a bike ride that your legs ache. I sometimes wish that’s all mine did. But sometimes it feels like my legs are encased in 3-4″ of concrete that I have to haul every time I try to take a step.

Do you know what it feels like to have your hands feel like 25-lb weights at the end of your arms? and not be sure you can control them enough to hold onto something?

When you get a fever–even a little one–it’s not a big deal for most people. But for me…I have to be careful and try to nip a fever in the bud. Otherwise, even a 1-degree fever can bring on a flareup and throw a complete monkey wrench in any plans I have.

I’ve been fortunate that I haven’t had to deal with pain or vision problems with my MS, like some have.

But the issues I have had to deal with have impacted my life…my plans…my family in ways that you can’t really understand until and unless you’ve actually lived it.

I appreciate your empathy and your attempts to understand. But please…don’t tell me that you know exactly how I feel. You don’t.

Where is our empathy?

Recently a school was closed for two days because of threats made against a transgender student…a child who is 12 years old. I could have understood if–maybe–if the threats had come from other students. That’s an age when being different seems to bring out the worst in us. But these threats came from parents…from those who are supposed to set the example.

As we learn more about how our brains work, about the connections between mind and body, about how our bodies are put together…there is increasing scientific knowledge available to help us understand issues of sexual and gender identities. We can help kids become who they really are–but only if we’re willing to listen and learn ourselves.

What if we actually listened? What if we set our fears aside for a little bit? What if we put our learned prejudices aside? our tendencies to try to apply information from 2000 years ago to today, ignoring all the information we’ve learned about our world, our bodies, ourselves?

I’m not suggesting that scripture isn’t relevant. It is. But the Bible isn’t a science textbook. It’s a record of communities doing their best to understand their world and the Divine. It’s a book that calls us to be open…to be willing to reach out to the marginalized, the hurting, the dispossessed.

That includes kids who are struggling with the differences they sense between who their brain tells them they are and what their body shows.

We may not understand it all, and that’s okay. There’s still a lot for us to learn.

But those of us who are adults have to set the example for our kids.

We can teach them empathy…compassion…willingness to try to understand another.

Or we can teach them fear and hate for “the other.”

I cannot imagine what life is like for that 12-year-old girl…or for the many other children (and adults) who struggle with gender dysphoria.

It’s not a disease. The disease is in us, when we see a 12-year-old child and call her a “half-formed maggot” or “it” or suggest attacking her with “a good sharp knife.”

“Becoming Nicole”

It’s been quite a while since I reviewed a book on this blog. That’s intentional. I have a big list of books (6-1/2 years worth) that I found worth reading on my site here.

I read so much that I literally ran out of time and energy trying to decide which books to suggest. So why am I suggesting this one?

Over the last several years I’ve become involved with members of the LGBTQ+ community in various ways. I’ve become good friends with some transgender individuals and have come to at least a minimal understanding of what they have gone through in helping their brains and bodies to agree.

But Becoming Nicole is one of the best books I’ve read (as a straight/cis person) to help understand what the journey is like for the whole family.

From the time she was at least 2 years old, Nicole knew that she was different from her identical twin brother. She couldn’t put words to the differences, but she knew they were there. Her parents and brother were supportive of her in her journey, but they also followed different paths. Her mother accepted her from the beginning and, although there wasn’t much information available to her at that time, she searched out what she could find and became a strong advocate for her daughter. Although her father loved and supported her, it took him longer to understand–but once he did, he also became a strong spokesperson for her. Her brother? He somehow simply knew from early on that he had a sister instead of a brother.

Each major section of this book opens with an explanation of the science behind sexual identity and gender identity…what scientists are coming to understand about how they develop and how they may not match. Sometimes trying to read that scientific information is challenging, but this book presents that material in language that a non-scientist can understand without a dictionary at hand!

If you have questions about what it means to be transgender…if you are curious about the journey of the entire family…if you would simply like to know more, then I would strongly suggest Becoming Nicole by Amy Ellis Nutt. It’s not a “preachy” book, simply the story of a family who deeply love and care for their children and the challenges they faced as they helped them to be true to themselves.

Making us great…

Over the last couple of years, we’ve heard a lot about “making America great again”…along with suggestions from some about how to do that. Many of those suggestions seem to look back to some undefined time when the world basically seemed to revolve around whoever is speaking. I’ve often heard it said that that “time” was when we were children–when we were not aware of the complexity of the challenges that surrounded us…

I’d like to suggest that rather than worrying about making America great (again), we might be better served by doing what we can to make humanity great. We’ve never really succeeded at that–and I think it’s because we’ve been too focused on (1) our own personal need / desire to be seen as “great” and (2) our need / desire to separate the world into “us” versus “them.”

So what would it take to make us (meaning humanity) great? I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I do have some suggestions and ideas (not presented in any particular order).

  1. Seek to understand. That comes from Stephen Covey. There’s more to the quote–“seek to understand before being seeking to be understood.” How do we do that? By listening…really listening. We were given two ears and one mouth for a purpose–and if we listened twice as much as we talk, we might make some good progress toward finding common ground. We all make our decisions based on our experiences, and until we try to understand someone else’s life experiences, we won’t be able to understand why they make the decisions they do.
  2. Recognize that we are stewards of the earth. We all live on this planet…we all depend on this ecosystem for our very existence. If the ecosystem fails, we will die. It’s that simple. We’ve already seen some species die out either because we hunted them to extinction or because they were unable to adapt to a changing climate. We need to take care of the earth, not just use it to death.
  3. Delight in the diversity of creation–animal, plant, and human. We seem to find it fairly easy to do that with animal and plant, but not so easily with human. We’re not all the same…we never will be. But there is so much to learn from each other, so much to enjoy when we are open.
  4. Be willing to understand the complexity of our human bodies. We used to think our bodies were simple, but they’re not. Our brains and bodies are complex…when they work together, things are good. But when they don’t agree, life gets really complicated! Our bodies don’t always reflect our gender identity or our sexual orientation…there is so much more to learn.
  5. Stop saying that it has to be either faith or science. They can complement each other. Science helps us understand the “how”; faith helps us understand the “why.”

Obviously there are a lot more ideas that could be added to this list, but if we make it too long, it would be overwhelming. And obviously I’m not giving a lot of specifics as to how to implement these ideas, because each of us can implement them in our own unique ways.

But maybe…just maybe…we can make humanity great. We have to…or we may find ourselves going the same way as the dodo bird.

 

To rescue each other…

Twelve boys and their coach found themselves trapped in a cave in a life-threatening situation. The world noticed. People prayed for them…people began working together to figure out ways to help them survive, to help them find a road to safety. And the world rejoiced when they were rescued–and a major disaster averted.

am glad that they were rescued.

But I also wonder…

There are many thousands of children (and families) who find themselves trapped in life-threatening situations. But the world doesn’t seem to notice…or to pray for them…or to be willing to work together to figure out ways to help them survive, to find a road to safety.

Why the difference?

Is it because there were only thirteen in the first situation? and it is easier to see that smaller number as individuals?

Is it because their difficulty didn’t require us to make changes in our own lives? that we weren’t going to have to find a place for them in our own neighborhoods?

Why?

What if we were the ones in a life-threatening situation? Wouldn’t we want someone to notice? to pray? to find ways to work together to help us survive and find a road to safety?

What if we saw each other truly as brothers and sisters in need?

We need to talk…

In my family, the words “We need to talk…” tend to signal something serious–some kind of issue that needs to be dealt with…a clearing of the air. That’s not always true, but I have to admit that when I hear (or say) those words, my gut clenches a bit and I begin to wonder “Uh-oh…now what?”

So let me say them to you. “We need to talk…” I hope your gut doesn’t clench, but there are some issues we need to deal with…some air that needs to be cleared.

I am alarmed at much of the rhetoric I am seeing and hearing. We’re not talking with each other…we’re talking past each other–and we’re so focused on making sure that we get our say in, that our responses are well-crafted, that we’re not listening. That alarms me for our future–and for what our kids are learning from us.

I’m not saying that we can’t disagree. We can…and I think we must, because we need to hear a diversity of viewpoints. After all, we come from a variety of backgrounds…we’ve had very diverse experiences as we’ve grown up and as we’ve interacted with others. So why shouldn’t our viewpoints be different?

But somehow we need to be able to see that diversity as a strength. We have been blessed through the years with foods and words from different cultures…with stories and spiritual practices from different faith traditions…with knowledge that has been saved because past cultures thought it important.

Please hear what I’m saying. I’m not suggesting that we cannot / should not stand against injustice, division, hate. I believe we must. But we must do that in ways that are not hateful themselves. Is that difficult? You bet! But I believe that we have examples that we can follow that show it’s possible.

In the movie Gandhi, there’s a scene that makes me shudder when I think of it. Gandhi was leading a protest against the policy of forcing India to buy salt at high prices from England…he mobilized literally hundreds of people in a march to the sea to make salt–where they were met by English soldiers. They marched four abreast towards the sea…were clubbed down and carried away by those waiting to help…and the next group stepped forward. There seemed to be no end to the people who were willing to take a non-violent stand against injustice–and the policy was changed.

I also look at the pictures from the Civil Rights movement–when individuals marched peacefully in protest, meeting water cannons, snarling dogs, and words of hate. Eventually things changed–not as much as we would have hoped, but people began to think.

I hear people talking about the possibility (probability?) of a “soft” civil war–a war of words. Words are important–and the way we use them can either help lead us to finding ways of working together or they can lead to violence.

We can disagree on ways to reach goals…we can even at times disagree on what those goals should be. But what we shouldn’t disagree on is the need to see “the other” as human, as brother and sister…and the need to use our environment wisely so that all living things (human and otherwise) can do more than just survive but can have abundant life.

We need to talk…