I have been a little shorter, a little sharper, with my language lately. This could be due to many, many factors. It’s been a long, gray winter. I am in the middle of some significant behavioral changes, and our bodies need time to adjust – maybe this is that adjustment period. I’ve gained a few pounds, and that has psychological, as well as physical, effects. Last Tuesday was the 20 year anniversary of my father’s death. Many of the people I know and walk with have health concerns, surgeries, breaking relationships/marriages, struggles and suffering. (Incidentally, I would change nothing – I am honored to share my life with the people I do, I’m happy to be who I am and in a constant state of growth. Well, I’d probably not have gained the weight I did, I’d change that.)
So, anyway, I’m tired. And I’m sad, and hopeful, and inspired, and heartbroken. I’m all the things. And as I am sometimes surprised at the tone of the voice that cis coming out of my mouth. Those words aren’t always kind or for building. They can cut and tear. This is not altogether unfamiliar – I grew up with a highly defined sarcastic edge, like a blanket of armor for protection. It may have been funny, probably mostly was, but it was always mean. I’ve moved away from that, don’t need protection anymore. Instead, it’s been replaced with authenticity & loving.
But not lately.
And if the words we use are out of the overflow of the heart (as the Bible says), then what’s up with my heart? Is it a simple bruise that will heal in time, sunshine, and with apples, or something more that needs to be addressed?
Yesterday morning, as a good friend was leaving church, he shared with me that a relative of his is trapped in Israel. He had been on a trip, and now can’t get home. This is awful, terribly frightening, and deserved my care, prayers, and empathy. That isn’t what he got. I said, “Well, soon the whole world will be under the control of the US, and he can come and go as he pleases with only a Real ID,” and I said it with such heartless disdain, it disgusted me. He gave me the gift of open vulnerability, and I hit him with a political club.
Now. Of course, I abhor the killing of human beings, and am very staunchly anti-war. I see this as a logical extension of my spiritual belief: Everyone is created in the image of God, and deserves our love, respect and honor (and not our bombs.) BUT. My hypocrisy is that this belief had twisted my judgment to where my desire to see all treated with honor and respect led me to treat this man with dishonor and disrespect.
I am hyper-sensitive & wildly empathetic – it’s the best thing and the worst thing about me – and these characteristics can easily wound me, and skew my perspective, leave me a person I barely recognize. Of course, it’s hypocritical. My empathy moved me to act in a way that was absent any whiff of empathy.
And I think it’s all related. I am fairly buttoned up about my politics (which an anti-war bend do not reveal), because they must not obstruct the truth of my life, and my purpose. And I let them. I also let the current state of my heart be affected by the negativity of our environment. This just cannot be. It’s totally possible to by hyper-sensitive and empathetic about everything, everyone, every time. I know it’s possible, because it has become my life. I can usually hold many different positions in my hands because I’m so grounded that the position that weighs the most to me is love.
I see now that I may have forgotten that. At the very least, it got blurry for me. But now I can see, I got a little lost, my heart had been infected and began to flow from my mouth.
And I am very, very sorry.
