Sexual Abuse of Children

Brene Brown has been my heroine for some time now. I have written about her work in this space on several occasions. Concerning the sexual abuse scandal at Penn State, she speaks my mind. No other words necessary.

http://www.ordinarycourage.com/my-blog/2011/11/14/thoughts-on-penn-state.html

Perhaps this scandal will give me the courage to post about my own sexual abuse at age five. Stay tuned.

You are Perfect---Just the Way you Are

I filled the pulpit for a friend today. While doing sermon prep, I ran across a story/parable that fits nicely with the study I have been doing on The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene’ Brown.

Why does it take us so long to realize we are perfect, just the way we are?

The Cracked Pot

A water bearer had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of these pots had a crack in it, while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of a long walk from the stream to the master’s house; the cracked pot arrived only half-full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer only delivering one and a half pots full of water to the house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of his accomplishments---perfect to the end for which it was made. The poor cracked pot was ashamed of his own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, the cracked pot spoke to the water bearer one day. “I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you.” “Why?” asked the water bearer. “What are you ashamed of?”

“I have been able, for these past two years to deliver only half of my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way to the house.  Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don’t get full value from you efforts, the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, ‘As we return to the house, I want you to notice all of the beautiful flowers along the path.”

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some.  But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half of its load again, so again the pot apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, “Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side?” That’s because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it.  I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you’ve watered them.  For two years, I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my table.  Without you being just the way you are, I would not have this beauty to grace my house.

Books that Change my Life: "The Secret Life of Bees" by Sue Monk Kidd

I fully support the concept that God did not stop speaking the minute the New Testament was finished. God still speaks to us in numerous ways and we ignore those messages at our own disservice.

God spoke to me in The Secret Life of Bees. Sue Monk Kidd’s writing spiritually stirs my mind and my heart. Many years before the publication of this novel, I read When the Heart Waits, Kidd’s non-fiction, personal story of coming out of the pit of spiritual death and re-awakening to a new authentic self. My readers know I have been studying the work of Brene’ Brown about living authentically. Kidd was on to this route decades earlier and described her awakening as the task to “dismantle old masks and patterns and unfold a deeper, more authentic self.” 

This process of “becoming real” continues with The Secret Life of Bees. One myth-buster that shouts loud and clear from the pages of this, her first, novel is that God is an old white male. The African-American women of the novel gather around a Black Madonna who nourishes their life and circumstances. Lily, the young girl at the center of the story runs away from an abusive father and rampant racism. She is less aware that she is running toward a mother-figure(s) to replace the mother she lost and an unconditional love that engenders her ability to forgive and give love.

There’s one metaphor that plays a significant role in the book that I have used in spiritual workshops. One of the three African-American sisters has emotional difficulties that seem to suggest she is a Christ-figure. She takes on all the burdens of the world, to such an extent, she can’t function unless she writes the burden down and puts the piece of paper in a crack in a wall—essentially her wailing wall. How much better off would we all be if we could adopt this metaphor and detach from life’s problems after turning them over to whatever source of love you are able to claim.

Authenticity of Kidd’s own spiritual journey shouts from the pages of this transformative book. Experiencing the journey along with her cannot be accomplished by attending this movie. Run to the library or bookstore to give yourself this treat.

  

Becoming Real

You and I have been talking about authenticity lately.  I suppose authenticity could be different things to different people but the bottom line is: authenticity means being true to yourself. This would include giving up the need to have a polished façade and sharing only those parts of yourself that you think are perfect enough for human consumption.

As is often the case, children’s literature boils any complex concept down to its purest form. The Velveteen Rabbit was one of my sons’ favorite stories. Here’s an excerpt:

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real, you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real, you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

I had been planning to post on this book for sometime. This is not a new thought. But, lo and behold----alas and alack, my guru Brene Brown has also blogged on this book. (I have mostly forgiven her for beating me to the post.) In her work on authenticity, she has reached many of the same conclusions that I have reached through a practical path.

Brene and I have reached other conclusions from our two very different paths. Before I even knew of Brene and her work, I had reached the conclusions that courage, healthy self-esteem, trust in others and persistence in life are the characteristics that have allowed me to survive and thrive in spite of a difficult life. Brene touts these characteristics as The Gifts of Imperfection. They, she maintains, are the by-products of living life authentically.

Have you become real yet? Has your fur been loved off yet?

Ugliness and Authenticity

Authenticity in the beginning
Photo by John Lynner Peterson

Authenticity has been an interest of mine for some time. I discovered on my own, with age and challenges, that living authentically enriched my life, while constantly creating a polished façade drained me. Now I can’t imagine why anyone would choose to play charades with your life.

A story on the Today Show stirred some thoughts about how we avoid authenticity in the media. A young woman experienced a freak accident at her bridesmaid party that left her paralyzed and in a wheel chair. Her fiancé stuck with her through the long journey of healing and they recently were able to marry. Sponsors of all sorts gave them the wedding of their dreams and a honeymoon to match. The story had a happy ending.

While they asked a few poignant questions about the difficulty of recovery and the drastic change in what they thought their future would be, they really didn’t zero in on the nitty-gritty of what has been required of them to get to the point of having the wedding more than a year later. The anchor didn’t ask, “Were there days when your anger surfaced and you lashed out at your fiancé as well as the friend who pushed you into the pool causing the accident?” The anchor didn’t ask the fiancé, “Did you think about walking away from this marriage on her ugliest of days?” The anchor asked glossed over versions of these two questions but basically, morning television eschews authenticity. Too ugly for breakfast.

So what does it mean to be authentic? It means putting the facts, feelings, thoughts, opinions and your true self out there for public consumption. It means not feeling like you have to white-wash your opinions or emotions before you express them. Yes, there are times and place when you don’t want to hurt others, lose your job or cause a revolution by stating your thoughts or feelings inappropriately, but most of us err on the side of polishing everything to a shine before we tell others.

After I had written about living authentically, I discovered my new guru, Brene` Brown who came to the same conclusions I did. I found my way to authenticity by living life; Brene Brown got there through academic research on shame. Her two books, I Thought it was Just Me (but it wasn’t) and The Gifts of Imperfection are must reads if you want to travel this journey of being yourself.

Have you had an experience of living authentically? Was it negative or positive?