I've never been particularly susceptible to neurosis. Until now. Since psychological problems run in the family, I guess it's about time. In addition to the situation I alluded to in my last post, the one in which most of you will never EVER know about, I just fell hostage to another great fear.
Tonight I closed the store at around 11:00. Came home, checked email, checked everyone's blog, watched The Daily Show, went to bed. As I was slowly drifting off I had this thought-- "I didn't lock the front door to Barnes and Noble. No, that can't be right, I always lock the door when I close. I check it twice all the time. But I didn't check it twice tonight. Yes I did, I just forgot checking it. No I didn't, I went and checked the cafe' door then walked to my car sans a second check of the front door. Yeah, I checked it twice." At which point my better, more sane, self stepped in to put an end to the potential hours long speculation. I got dressed, got into my car and drove down Waco drive to confirm that I had, like always, locked the front door. I did.
I seized the opportunity of being up and around at 12:30 a.m. on a Tuesday (another thing I'm not particularly susceptible to) to:
1. Visit the happy place for the perfect combination of krisp and kream to bring great joy to my palate.
(visual stolen from Tom's blog.)
2. Recognize that the guy working the drive through at the happy place was the same guy who worked at the convenience store at Brazos Middle School when I suffered, I mean worked, there.
3. Ponder whether or not it would be beneficial for me to to get a second job, preferably working the overnight drive through at the said happy place.
4. Notice that at this time of the night the roads are deficient of civilian vehicles but overflowing with Waco Police Cars just waiting to stop me for the long period of time (15 months) it's been since my car has been inspected. I fooled them again.
5. Sit back at the computer to listen to some Rich Mullins (Home, the Other Side of the World) Joe Nichols (Brokenheartsville, Cool to be a fool), Johnny Cash (Sunday Morning Coming Down,) and Johnny Lang (Red Light.)
6. Wonder whether or not my next cd purchase should be Keith Urban or the Dolly Parton tribute album.
7. Blog.
SO HERE I AM. BLOGGING.
It seems as if there were some very good entries from my friends yesterday. (Except for Ben, who is still morning the day the music died.) And it seems as if there is a common theme echoing out of at least a couple of them that was most eloquently and poignantly stated by the Reverend Jason Glenn Edwards:
"Sometimes we find ourselves so passionately against something that we cannot be silent. We interrupt the person speaking to us and we debate our point with fury. But, strangely enough, when we are overcome with compassion for someone that we love, we struggle to keep it from them. We hold back our love.
Why are we so easy with our contention and so hesitant with our love?"
Allow me to ponder this question with another list. (Lists are another thing I've never been particularly susceptible to, until recently.)
1. Contention is a category within our minds that takes little wrestling with. With those we love, it costs us nothing to contend against a proposition, but everything to interact with an emotion. (I know love's more than an emotion, but it is an emotion.)
2. Some of us, well, maybe just me, used to live lives in which we were very open with our emotions. In vulnerable times we would tell those closest to us, those with whom our hearts felt genuine affection for, how much we loved them. And in those vulnerable times, those people would be passively happy that we shared those things. But then the vulnerable times passed, but our desire to show affection didn't. So we decided that no matter what the situation, we'd say I love you regardless of the vulnerability of the moment or the amount of time that had passed since we'd said it last. It was then we got the stares. We got the rolled eyes. We got the sense that now was not the time nor the place. We got ignored by those we cared about, who would rather not be around us than have to deal with those words. And so we said "fuck it, I'm done with that." And allowed our friend's inability to feel to deaden our own senses as well.
3. As a result of #2, some of us retreated from the life of feelings into the life of the mind. We began to read. We began to experience ideas that were unknown to us. We began to become fluent in critical thinking and debate. We began to correct people and teach them things in such a gentle way that we became known for our wit and wisdom. And people began to like us for that. Where we weren't accepted for our tenderness, we became lauded for our intelligence. And so we fed that. We fed it and fed it until it took over our lives. And we received our self worth not by what we embraced and who we cared for, but rather for what we knew. Our contention replaced our "I love you's."
4. A corollary to #2-- We are pretty confident we will not receive the I love you return.
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It should be quite obvious by now that the aforementioned "we" should be interpreted to mean "I."
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When the cast of Will and Grace was on Inside the Actor's Studio, the writers of the show shared where the title character's names came from. It was from an old Jewish theologian who stated that in order for us to experience love, either from God or each other, we must have the will to pursue it and the grace to receive it.
Maybe the answer to Jason's question is this: The grace part we have down pat. We're ready for love, and we'll receive it when offered. But maybe we are too satisfied with our self made idols to actively have the will to pursue love.
My mind races to stories of a woman looking for a lost coin, a shepherd looking for a lost sheep, and a Father actively pursuing our return (Will) and extravagantly accepting our repentance (Grace.)
__________________
(Late night writing might make no sense when I wake up. Please forgive me if this is the case.)
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