The Value of Friends

It may not be too difficult to identify from my recent posts, that the last few weeks have been a very difficult time.  At times my friends have been amazingly helpful in this process, and at other times it felt like they were nowhere to be found.  That was probably mostly a perception issue, but there is great value to having people that you know you can count on to be there for you.  Things have been improving greatly in that regard, specifically over the last week and even more so in the last 48 hours.  I have had the chance to see most of my friends, including ones I rarely see from places like SoCal or the Bay Area, and even South Africa.  And I have had the time to just relax and enjoy being with them.  I no longer feel like finding someone to talk to is a challenging ordeal.

There is a big difference between talking to someone one-on-one, and having a group conversation.  Each has its place and value in the context of a relationship.  Most of the last month has been fairly heavily weighted in favor of one-on-one talks, which was what I needed, to help me sort out issues with death, emotions, and family relationships.  And then the last couple days I have had many more people around, so most of my conversations have been group oriented.  Even just adding a third person totally changes the dynamic, and while it usually steers things into less deep topics, the results are usually a more relaxing experience.  And adding even more people makes that effect stronger, without deliberate intervention.  It is possible to have a group conversation about pretty deep issues, but it takes a skilled facilitator to make that happen, as well as a little help from God.

Trusting people is fairly challenging for me, and is usually a slow process for me to develop.  I realized today, while sitting around a table of my friends, that almost all of the people that I trust most, were sitting right there in front of me, all at the same time.  I was lucky to have that many solid friends, and lucky to have them all there with me.  Ironically I recognized when I got home later, that I had no one to tell about figuring that out, because all of the people I would usually talk to about things like that, had been there.  Never before had so many people that I trust been in one spot, especially to the total exclusion of others  There isn't much that I wouldn't be willing to share with each of these people individually, but in a group setting, the conversation was still relatively light.  Now that type of conversation has its place, although I am usually less consciously aware of the benefits of that, as I am after having a really good deep talk with someone.  I think God knew what I needed at the time, even if I would never have planned it that way, and made it happen.  The sense of peace I have from realizing that I can just relax with my friends and not worry about anything, is not the outcome I would have expected, but I am definitely not complaining.  Life is weird, and I have said that a lot recently.

Preventing Death vs Raising the Dead

So God has been trying to tell me something this evening, but I am not real sure exactly what.  Here is what has been revealed so far:

There are certain things that people do in relationship with God that I have zero comprehension of.  Flagging is a great example, in that I can’t even imagine doing that, or what would cause someone to try it.  Being drunk in the spirit clearly serves a purpose, even though I can't relate to what it feels like.  It is a cathartic process for releasing emotions, not unlike crying, laughing, or sex.

Healing on the other hand makes perfect sense to me, in that it restores order to creation, and removes pain or imperfection.  It holds death farther at bay, at least temporarily.  I can grasp how that works and why, as an expression of God's love for us.  The next logical step is to examine the idea of raising the dead.  This is different than healing, in that in works in direct opposition to death.  People do get raised from the dead, and it is clearly God doing that, as opposed to the devil, since death is a result of sin.  This makes death inherently bad, regardless of the fact that it is an inevitable situation that we all risk facing at any moment, and all will eventually.

If death was an instantaneous transportation into God's presence, raising someone from the dead would not be an act of mercy or love, on God's part.  This logically leads to the idea that whatever happens when we die, it is probably not a super positive process, especially during the transition.  If it was, God wouldn't raise people from the dead, even for the purpose of comforting those they had left behind.

It was prophesied over me about a year ago that I would raise people from the dead.  (Not in some metaphorical way, and not as something that I would lead up to with years of progressive healing, but just an abrupt event.)  I have only had one opportunity to try that since then, and it would appear that is not when God intended to use me in that way.

The inherently negative aspects of death are probably not the healthiest thing to be pondering in light of recent events, but it's not like I chose this topic.  This entire concept was just dropped on my all at once in the middle of a worship session this evening, out of the blue.  Maybe it's just an obvious, logical train of thought that I have been avoiding for a while, as a natural defense mechanism in my situation.  It isn't having any negative emotional impact on me at the moment, but it is a bit worrisome.  Anyhow, I am assuming I have not yet discovered the final conclusion that God is trying to show me, but I thought it was important to write down the process so far before I went to bed.  And who knows, maybe one of my readers can reveal the rest of the conclusion to me.

What do Your Belongings Reveal About You?

Sorting through someone's belongings is an interesting process.  I have helped people move in the past, and have come across some unexpected items.  But in cleaning out my Mom's house, I am learning all sorts of things about her.  Some of those things only further cement ideas I already had about her, while others fly in the face of my preconceived notions.  Some are simple or humorous, while others are more significant.

I think my favorite example was her absentee ballot, which was filled out, but not sealed.  I decided not to mail it, since idea of dead people voting is not very popular. (JFK, Chicago, 1960)  When I looked at it, I was amused to see that my Mom, an outspoken Republican, was still registered as a Democrat.  I recall her mentioning needing to change that many years ago, but she obviously never did.  But she would never vote for a candidate she didn't support, so instead of Obama, she wrote in one of our family friends.  My Dad was listed for State Assembly.  Some other non-partisan offices had regular votes.  But the whole thing was totally different than how I would have expected my mother to approach the voting process.

She wrote ton's of things down, all the time, many of which I am finding around the house.  It gives you a window into what she was thinking about at the time.  The issue is that you can't tell when she wrote them, and she never threw anything away, so I can find two notes saying things that are completely opposite.  But in general, they give you a pretty good idea of what she was thinking about and what she cared about.

One of the prime topics I am most interested in is her perspective on her relationship with my Dad.  Since we "inherit" many of our relationship habits and problems from our parents, I am always trying to better understand my parent's situation. (Primarily to ensure that my eventual marriage takes a very different course) She had written all sorts of things down about that, but once again, without dates, it is hard to identify what she was thinking when.  And thoughts and feelings change over the duration of a relationship, so timing is an important aspect in understanding what happened.  But I have learned a number of things that are very important, and will help me in the future, once I am married, or at least on that trajectory.

It makes me wonder what things I have that people would be surprised to find.  I don't think they would be too shocked by any of it, but I am sure the question of "why was he saving these?" would come up a few times. (But not as many times as I have wanted to ask my Mom that)  Going through text documents on my laptop would probably reveal a few interesting things, but over time I am deliberately sharing those things on here, so there will be fewer and fewer surprises, the longer I continue doing this.

When to Cry, and With Whom

Crying is an interesting concept to me.  I remember crying quite frequently when I was much younger, followed by a half hour of hyperventilating in extreme cases.  Since 1993, the closest I have come to crying is getting a little teary-eyed, or a bit choked up.

I used to take pride in the fact that nothing anyone could do to me would cause me to cry.  That probably fit heavily into my definition of "strong," and was part of my attempt to bring a sense of control to a very difficult situation.  Eventually I came to realize that crying is a natural process, and probably healthy in certain circumstances.  By that point the subconscious reflex to suppress any impulse to cry, was so strong that I no longer had much conscious control over it.

I never have had much of an impulse to cry when I am alone, but the more people there are around, the less I want to cry.  In those cases, I consciously let the suppression reflex kick in, probably out of fear, not being sure what will happen if I finally cry after such a long time.  The strongest urge I have felt to cry was about eight years ago at my grandfather's funeral, right as I was about speak in front of the service.  That was "not the time" in my conscious opinion, so I let that impulse get suppressed by my own defense mechanism.

It would seem that, at least in my case, "crying" is probably best accomplished in a one-on-one environment, since that is the only way I could imagine consciously letting it happen.  The situation would have to be safe enough for me to let go, but not so safe as to dissipate the underlying tension that boils over as crying.

If crying is a way of releasing pent-up emotional tension, then my experiences with it have not been emptying the cup so much as sloshing a bit over the side, making it easier to prevent it from spilling any more after that point.  But the bulk of the built-up tension remains unaffected, which is probably a negative thing.

The events of the past two weeks have brought to light many issues in the way that I "process emotions."  It is hard to tell what is good or bad about my approach in the present, but I am sure hindsight will provide an interesting perspective in the future.  I either process them so quickly that I nearly miss them, or so slowly that it’s imperceivable.  The contrast between how my brother and I react to similar situations is pretty extreme.  While he would likely be described as “normal,” I probably come off as cold and uncaring, but I also am able to remain calm and lead in extremely trying circumstances.  I am sure that comes at a cost, but I still don't fully understand what that cost is.

I was reading a book last month, which constantly made reference to meeting "emotional needs."  I had no idea what the author was trying to get at, even though that was an important part of what he was talking about, since almost no specific examples were ever given.  Now I am beginning to understand what those "needs" are.  I still can't quantify or describe them, but I recognize that they exist, and I guess that is a logical first step.  I believe that an opportunity to cry is one of those needs, but I don't seem to be able to make that happen.  And I recognize that the action of crying, while functional in restoring balance to the body, is just a physical manifestation of a much more significant emotional issue.

What my Family Calls "Love," Everyone Else Calls "Loyalty"

I have thrown that phrase around in a number of different contexts over the last few years, usually to describe a problem I saw.  It was first pointed out to me by one of my close friends about four years ago.  The original observation was based on the fact that the emotional aspects of the relationships in my family were nearly non-existent.  We are reasonably close in our interactions, and can depend on one another, but this is based on a sense of duty and honor, as opposed to some strong emotional bond.  It pervades the rest of my extended family to some degree, but is extremely true of the relationships between the members of my immediate family.  We rarely miss a major holiday or family get together, but we rarely talk about what we are dealing with or feeling.

When my parents first told me that they were splitting up, the first thing they asked me after going over the practical details was: "how do you feel about all of this?"  My response was the first time I had quoted that phrase directly to them, although I had previously used it to describe my family to others.  My Dad's initial response was to reflexively deny it, until he had taken about five seconds to actually process it, after which he conceded that it was probably accurate.

It was originally stated to point out a problem, and from a certain perspective that is an issue that should be addressed, although I am not sure how.  But there is a actually a flip side that I had not really pondered until the progression of events over the last week or so.  My family (immediate or extended) are not people who I go to for emotional support, it just doesn't work that way.  But in providing practical assistance, they are actually quite reliable.

But when I need that level of dependable response from my friends, who I do rely on for emotional support, I sure don't find it.  I have been going out of my way to seek out people to talk to, to help process what is going on at an emotional level.  But it feels like the process of trying to make that actually happen adds more stress than it alleviates, on the rare occasion that things actually fall together.  The rest of the time it a constant struggle to get a hold of people, and then try to fit things in to their schedule, when I have no real schedule as I take on the unknown, one step at a time.  The ones who are available, usually have trouble being helpful.  And of the ones that are helpful, the few that are finding ways to make themselves available, are managing to do so in ways that make my life even more stressful.

Skype adds an interesting option into that equation.  I was never a fan of video chatting, but was consciously trying to get more comfortable with it, to stay in touch with people during my upcoming trip.  This situation is the first time I have ever found it to be a truly helpful tool.  I am not sure if I am actually getting used to it, or just that when you are completely emotionally drained, you don't even notice that it is inherently kind of awkward to video chat with someone.  Anyhow, I have done more video chatting in the last week than in the rest of my life combined.  But it is just not the same thing as actually talking to someone in person, and good luck developing a "Skype Hug."

But the end result is still that "what my family calls love, everyone else calls loyalty," and for now, I'll take it.  Someday I will probably need a whole bunch of counseling to sort out the emotional ramifications of that problem, but at least I know who I can depend on.

Alone...or am I?

Certain obvious observations haven't been as clear to me recently, as noted in my last post.  I had a few interesting things occur to me today, in regards to the previous week.  When I was sitting in bed this morning, it suddenly dawned on me just how much easier this process would be if I was married.  There are so many things that would be different if I wasn't dealing with it alone.

For one, I would have a constant listening ear to talk to, to help process what is doing on at an emotional level.  Instead I have to work hard to make sure I find an opportunity to do that at least once a day.  There aren't very many people I trust enough to talk openly with, and while they try to make themselves available, the logistics usually make that challenging.  And while tools like Skype make it easier to communicate at a certain level, its not like someone is going to reach through the screen and give me a digital hug.

I don't know how it works, but there is definitely a difference between talking to a guy, and talking to a girl, about emotional issues.  There is a certain comforting factor that seems to be unique to females, presumably because they are more "sensitive."  I assume that is similar for girls, in that they frequently go to their other female friends for consolation in many cases, instead of their boyfriend or husband (but not always).

If married, I would have someone around constantly, so that I wouldn't be physically alone so frequently.  I have had people who accompanied me for certain tasks recently, even though they were of no potential practical assistance, just to have someone around for moral support.  I didn't fully appreciate the value of that until after they had left, and I had to continue the process on my own.

Even at a basic practical level, it would probably be health to have someone looking out for me, pointing out that I hadn't eaten in 36 hours, or that I need to go to bed, etc.  While I am capable of pulling my own weight, I wouldn't feel too guilty about letting them do the cooking and laundry for the time being.

And let's be honest, relieving a little tension and relaxing every once in a while is probably healthy when dealing with serious emotional stress.  But the cost of that level of support from someone, is that you also have to be available to do the same for them when they need it.  I have no problem doing that, at least in theory, as that is part of what sharing the load is all about.  "The Lord God said, 'It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.'" (Genesis 2:18)

So I had that idea running around in the back of my head for most of the day, and it wasn't until I was driving back home late at night that an opposite observation occurred to me.  It suddenly dawned on me just how much harder this process would be if I was working full-time.  Having to balance the funeral and estate issues, with my own work and financial concerns, would make it far more difficult.  My brother has taken some time off from his job, but the rest of my family doesn't even have to deal with that side of things.  Besides deferring my big trip, which costs me nothing, I have no other outside distractions that I can't ignore for a few weeks.  This will be helpful for sorting through things both practically and emotionally.

So while God appears to have withheld certain blessings for the time being, he has provided others, to help keep me on an even keel.  The degree to which some of those things have been provided by God is only beginning to sink in over the last 48 hours, and will be explored on here further in the near future.

Stressful Situations

I would previously have claimed that I usually work exceptionally well under "stress" but in reality I would say that I am fairly resistant to stress.  Once I am actually experiencing it, I probably react pretty similarly to the way everyone else does.  It has been a pretty rough couple of days, which have introduced stress to my life at a whole new order of magnitude.  I lost a close family member, and have rather suddenly taken on some rather large responsibilities.

Over the last few days, I have spent a lot of time thinking about things to write on here, but had very little time to myself to actually do it.  And on the occasions that I do sit down to commit those ideas to paper, nothing substantial comes to mind.  That is only one example of what I have been learning first hand, about the effect that extreme stress has on my mental processes.  I am still staying on top of the big things, but the less significant ones are slipping through.  Leaving the house unexpectedly at 5am, I had the presence of mind to grab all of the things I would need for the next few days, provided I didn't want to change my socks or underwear during that time.

I have always known that I would someday have to deal with this situation, but was in no hurry to do so, and expected that I would be able to avoid it for another twenty years.  I had even discussed the eventual situation within the last few weeks, and it is interesting to reflect on some of the assumptions that were made during that conversation, especially in regard to timing. It has been a lot different than I anticipated, both practically and emotionally.

I wish I had been able to record more about the progression of my emotions over the last few days, since I know that a number of profound ideas have occurred to me.  There are a whole variety of things I have been experiencing for the very first time.  Actually having complete responsibility for something external to myself is a new experience.  I have usually avoided that situation to this point, preferring instead to be the number two guy, who control is delegated to, but who isn't responsible for any failures, as long as his approach to problems is approved of.  Being the key decision maker is actually very freeing in a way, since I know how to seek out good advice, and who to consult.  I don't have to sell anyone on a good idea, even if it is emotionally counter-intuitive.  It is not that I am unfamiliar with taking responsibility for things, since I very clearly run my own life, but I rarely agree to take on full responsibility for things beyond that.  In this case I had no legal choice in the matter, and I have little to compare it to.  So far, the stress has not been from the level of responsibility, since I am confident in my own abilities, but in dealing with those around me, and trying to keep them happy.  This rarely hinges on my actual decisions as much as their emotional strain, and need to feel involved in the process.

I almost feel guilty any time I am laughing or smiling, as if any positive emotions during this time are a betrayal of someone's memory.  This is interesting to contrast against our wise-cracking funeral director, whose attitude is basically: "you've got to have a sense of humor to survive working in a place like this."  I do that in other "serious" situations to relieve tension, but it takes a bit of getting used to, to do it in this context.