It's a new year, 2014. Happy New Year!
A new blog for a new life. I'm calling it "unafraid and unashamed." Not very original, but it's meaningful to me. It's is not a declaration of where I am currently…it's a goal. Elusive and distant, but getting clearer in my sights. There's still a good deal of fear and shame that I'm working through right now, but I have the feeling that this new world of mine -- wild, open, free -- is the right backdrop for a fresh go at it.
This last month I have been considering my identity -- who I am, who God made me to be. I've come to a conclusion: I am the most intense person I know this side of sanity. I don't just want to live my life; I want to tear through it with fire and passion. I don't just watch movies; I rip them apart and analyze them in my zeal (if they're worth analyzing). I belt out favorite tunes on excessive repeat in my car. I often have strong opinions to which I'm deeply devoted. I read and reread books throughout the years with a passionate faithfulness. My deepest ambitions are rejected by most as abnormal and extreme. I'm not trying to make myself out to be some sort of glorious, larger-than-life character -- I have my laid-back, lazy side too, and I am well aware that much of my intensity is mingled with the ridiculous. A tempest in a teapot. Scornful tone aside, that's probably not a bad description for me. I do like me a good cup o' tea.
INTENSE: (def) passionate, impassioned, ardent, fervent, zealous, vehement, fiery, emotional; earnest, eager, animated, spirited, vigorous, energetic, fanatical, committed. ANTONYMS apathetic.
I know that my intensity is hard to handle for many. For years, for the sake of community, I have muted myself, suppressed my expression, and pretended to be calmer, saner, less messy, than I am. It makes me easier to live with, I suppose, so out of generosity to others, I've done so. But now that I live alone and have stepped out of the community I've been in for 13 years, I'd like to let myself go a little and see what happens. I know that not everyone can take me this way…but that's ok. In this new world of mine, I no longer have to be friends with everyone. I have concluded, in agreement with Rich Mullins, "it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free" (song "Elijah").
A few months ago, as I was in church crying out to God, on my knees, I became conscious of the desperate raspiness of my voice crying, "Jesus!," the unattractive oozing of liquids from various facial orifices (not just my eyes), the wretchedness of my position, my face swollen and hair tumbled around my face. I'm definitely not a pretty crier. Then in the deepest part of myself, came a quiet statement: "God does not find you repulsive." It struck me so deeply that I stopped crying. God is not afraid of my intensity. He isn't going to ask me to back down and be calmer, sweeter, not myself. I am His child. He's not the sort of parent that sees the strength and will of a toddler and just sighs in exasperation and tries to break her, wishing out loud for a different type of child. Even as He disciplines me, He delights in who I am, the intensity that makes me me.
[By the way, I'm not talking about sinful intensity. I don't believe in fighting dirty, calling people names, using passive aggression (or aggressive aggression) to get what you want. I still want to be kind, loyal, generous, and loving. But can't I be fiercely kind, loyal, generous and loving? Rather than sweetly so?]
A character I've really identified with lately is Queen Elsa, of Frozen. I love the new freedom with which she expresses the previously hidden, suppressed part of herself that is rejected by others but that in itself is beautiful and creative. Being transparent about my intensity: I've watched this clip maybe a hundred times, often up to ten times in a row.
I love that Elsa isn't sweet. She's powerful, loving, independent, courageous. But she isn't sweet. It's no surprise to me that she isn't actually the main protagonist of the movie -- it's her little princess sister Anna -- girlish, dreamy, sweet, much better suited to sing her way into the hearts of a Disney audience and to find her soulmate in the movie.
Another character I've identified with in the past is Jean Grey / Phoenix in the movie version of X-Men (I'm aware that her comic book character is much more complicated, but I'm not a comic book reader). Her transformation into the all-powerful Phoenix, formerly suppressed by male control, resonated with me. I guess liberating suppressed power is a theme of my life right now -- and then finding the right middle ground between absolute chaotic power and total suppression. I love Phoenix's power, but she's, uh, a little out of control.
A counselor recently told me that mental health is often more like a pendulum than a slow, progressive movement to the right state of sanity -- you do swing back and forth, and that's okay.
Here's to swinging out in 2014---
A new blog for a new life. I'm calling it "unafraid and unashamed." Not very original, but it's meaningful to me. It's is not a declaration of where I am currently…it's a goal. Elusive and distant, but getting clearer in my sights. There's still a good deal of fear and shame that I'm working through right now, but I have the feeling that this new world of mine -- wild, open, free -- is the right backdrop for a fresh go at it.
This last month I have been considering my identity -- who I am, who God made me to be. I've come to a conclusion: I am the most intense person I know this side of sanity. I don't just want to live my life; I want to tear through it with fire and passion. I don't just watch movies; I rip them apart and analyze them in my zeal (if they're worth analyzing). I belt out favorite tunes on excessive repeat in my car. I often have strong opinions to which I'm deeply devoted. I read and reread books throughout the years with a passionate faithfulness. My deepest ambitions are rejected by most as abnormal and extreme. I'm not trying to make myself out to be some sort of glorious, larger-than-life character -- I have my laid-back, lazy side too, and I am well aware that much of my intensity is mingled with the ridiculous. A tempest in a teapot. Scornful tone aside, that's probably not a bad description for me. I do like me a good cup o' tea.
INTENSE: (def) passionate, impassioned, ardent, fervent, zealous, vehement, fiery, emotional; earnest, eager, animated, spirited, vigorous, energetic, fanatical, committed. ANTONYMS apathetic.
I know that my intensity is hard to handle for many. For years, for the sake of community, I have muted myself, suppressed my expression, and pretended to be calmer, saner, less messy, than I am. It makes me easier to live with, I suppose, so out of generosity to others, I've done so. But now that I live alone and have stepped out of the community I've been in for 13 years, I'd like to let myself go a little and see what happens. I know that not everyone can take me this way…but that's ok. In this new world of mine, I no longer have to be friends with everyone. I have concluded, in agreement with Rich Mullins, "it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free" (song "Elijah").
A few months ago, as I was in church crying out to God, on my knees, I became conscious of the desperate raspiness of my voice crying, "Jesus!," the unattractive oozing of liquids from various facial orifices (not just my eyes), the wretchedness of my position, my face swollen and hair tumbled around my face. I'm definitely not a pretty crier. Then in the deepest part of myself, came a quiet statement: "God does not find you repulsive." It struck me so deeply that I stopped crying. God is not afraid of my intensity. He isn't going to ask me to back down and be calmer, sweeter, not myself. I am His child. He's not the sort of parent that sees the strength and will of a toddler and just sighs in exasperation and tries to break her, wishing out loud for a different type of child. Even as He disciplines me, He delights in who I am, the intensity that makes me me.
[By the way, I'm not talking about sinful intensity. I don't believe in fighting dirty, calling people names, using passive aggression (or aggressive aggression) to get what you want. I still want to be kind, loyal, generous, and loving. But can't I be fiercely kind, loyal, generous and loving? Rather than sweetly so?]
A character I've really identified with lately is Queen Elsa, of Frozen. I love the new freedom with which she expresses the previously hidden, suppressed part of herself that is rejected by others but that in itself is beautiful and creative. Being transparent about my intensity: I've watched this clip maybe a hundred times, often up to ten times in a row.
I love that Elsa isn't sweet. She's powerful, loving, independent, courageous. But she isn't sweet. It's no surprise to me that she isn't actually the main protagonist of the movie -- it's her little princess sister Anna -- girlish, dreamy, sweet, much better suited to sing her way into the hearts of a Disney audience and to find her soulmate in the movie.
Another character I've identified with in the past is Jean Grey / Phoenix in the movie version of X-Men (I'm aware that her comic book character is much more complicated, but I'm not a comic book reader). Her transformation into the all-powerful Phoenix, formerly suppressed by male control, resonated with me. I guess liberating suppressed power is a theme of my life right now -- and then finding the right middle ground between absolute chaotic power and total suppression. I love Phoenix's power, but she's, uh, a little out of control.
A counselor recently told me that mental health is often more like a pendulum than a slow, progressive movement to the right state of sanity -- you do swing back and forth, and that's okay.
Here's to swinging out in 2014---
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