A Shameful Truth

I woke this morning from a dream; we'd been travelling round in the old brown van (unregistered, unwarranted) in New Zealand on some kind of a holiday and were just about to lend it to someone for their use but thought better of it, seeing as they could get into trouble for driving it. And I suddenly realised that my dream was reminding me of my using the public roads without paying for them, given that the van was unregistered. It felt yukky. I recognised that thing in me that wants something for nothing, that loves a bargain, that has even stolen little things when I was little. I belong to the local woodcraft society not primarily to make friends and share my joy of working with wood, but in order to have access to a lot of equipment for a nominal membership fee. I volunteer for a few things, not primarily to help, but because of the freebies that come my way or because it helps me to feel good about myself. I sing in the choir, hardly at all for the joy of singing (it's all quite difficult and challenging for me) but in order to become a better singer. And on it goes.

And I'm pondering about my relationship with God in this light. How much, when I pray to be loved, do I want 'something for nothing', and why do I really want God's love? I think there are many facets to this. Somewhere in the answer is the pure desire to become closer to God just because God is God and I am me, because I do know that little bits of love come through at times. However I have to admit that I also see having God's love as such a bargain too. In theory I ask, God supplies (all for free), and I find all the obstacles in my life much easier to negotiate because, for a little while at least, I feel good about myself.

And here I see a lot of impure desire in me. I want God's love in order to 'look good, feel better' as the poster says. And I tell myself, with God's love in me I can be so much freer and more effective in my own life. But this freedom requires first that I am truthful about my own darker side.

I am heavily 'of the world' in this respect. We are taught here on earth that everything costs money, everything must be accounted for. Except air, but how long before we learn how to charge for that? And as long as I subscribe to that belief, as long as I try to manipulate my own “I'll do this for you if you do that for me” I believe I cannot graduate to receiving freely of God's abundance. God's laws are the opposite to man's laws when it comes to abundance but it seems to me that first I must make peace with man's laws before the universe deems me eligible to receive freely, without the expectation that I do anything in return. Anything, that is, except feel gratitude. And that's something else I have in short supply, again because I've been taught that everything costs money.  I feel uncomfortable if I'm given a gift unless I feel I've 'earned' it or I can respond with another gift (the size and amount of which I carefully measure...)

Jesus taught us in the first century that the person who buries his stash for safekeeping is the one who loses out in the end. He also teaches that it is vital that we take total responsibility for our own feelings. And I will pray to God to help me feel more and more deeply about this miserly demanding aspect of me, and ask for help to go through whatever anger I have at those who I think charge 'too much', all the fear I have at being left bereft, and so it goes... I want to be free of this rather nasty stain that seems so firmly stuck on me.

Yoga and me

I went to a yoga class yesterday morning. I've done this perhaps half a dozen times in my life, maybe less. It's a sobering experience to see how inflexible I am and I felt fairly despondent through most of it, thinking “if my body is supposed to show me the things I don't want to believe about myself, how rigid I must be!”

I don't know much about the body's manifestation of denied emotion, but I couldn't avoid the thought that once upon a time, years back, I may have been able to do all those odd poses and feel balanced and comfortable. There were people my age in the room who seemed to manage; what has happened to me? I've had plenty of physical activity in my life, so it's not that.

And I couldn't get away from the nagging thought that I've opted to become rigid in many ways. I also saw a local school production of Fiddler on the Roof yesterday (it was so good I went twice!) It's a musical, beautifully telling the story of how Tevye, the Russian Jewish father who holds his faith and cultural tradition very dear to him, is repeatedly challenged. He talks to God in the most lovable way, asking to be rich, to be cared for, bringing his daily complaints, praying in a way that feels so real. And on two of three occasions he opts to go against his beloved tradition and makes decisions based on his love for his daughters. On the third occasion he says something like: “My back can only bend so far before it will break...” and the wrongness of his decision to not bend further is heartbreaking.

Well, in yoga my back doesn't bend far at all. I'm a long way from touching my toes. Is it possible that I'm holding onto a lot of beliefs that fly in the face of love? Like Tevye, I debate the pros and cons of every decision. I suppose I fear my back will break too, that if I don't do what I've been taught is right then I will suffer a lot of pain.

I'm surprised to realise how strong my own internal 'tradition' is, how much I fear that acting out of love will bring me unbearable pain. I continue to be afraid to love.

I was married 29 years ago today. I could perhaps talk with God about how what I've just written will help me see my own inflexibility, my own choices to not feel pain rather than to be open to love.