Love With A Capital L

A journey towards living an inspired life of love in the modern world

More On Releasing Everything — February 14, 2020

More On Releasing Everything

I might call this The Tension of Trying (and Failing) to Know What To Release.

What I have been being taught for the last 44 years and that I am beginning to actually learn is that I (or you or Barack Obama or Donald Trump or Tony Robbins or anybody) has practically zero real influence on anyone else. You might think you see something that is not, um, let’s use the parlance of the day and say: “living my best life,” and want something different, better for me.

Now, let’s for a minute say that you’re right. Let’s put aside all of the ways we try to fix or fit each other into the boxes that make us comfortable without a clue as to what might be good or healthy or desirable for the other, ok? You’re right, the thing you see IS in fact causing me to not live my best life. Now what? In all likelihood, I don’t care. Not even a little.

Nearly without exception, we gravitate to the people and ideas with which we agree. This is why Fox News, MSNBC, Rush Limbaugh and Bill Maher exist and have such wide audiences. Not a soul on the right watches Maher and no leftist would be caught dead listening to Limbaugh. The things that make the deepest impressions are those that we already believe shared in a fresh manner, with clever words and phrases.

People will do what people will do. I will change only if and when I am good and ready to change, or when God stops me on the road to Damascus and transforms me. We don’t change each other. Then why we do this dance of buying the delusion that we can “speak into” another’s life? Of course it’s pride, like everything else, but whose?

Is it yours, for thinking it is your place to point me down the right path? For thinking you know the right path? Isn’t that arrogant and more than a little self-righteous?

Or is it mine, for not listening to what may be wisdom? For not being open to new (often opposing and wildly uncomfortable) ideas and concepts? For protecting my current paradigm against all foreign attack?

Both. So now what?

First and foremost, I guess we focus on becoming the kind of people who listen to the externals, sifting the wisdom from the agenda-driven narcissism, and evaluating it honestly. And we release the rest. We don’t just throw Sgt. Pepper’s in the garbage because it doesn’t sound like Help! We look for the truth and adopt it. We aren’t really supposed to dig deep ruts to plant our feet and stay the same forever. We shed the constricting old skins, instead wearing coverings of perpetual growth.

But as far as getting our observations, advice or best intentions all over anyone else? As far as asking them to focus on that same growth? We probably release that.

But isn’t it natural and, yes, loving to want lives of peace and joy for others? What if your experience might be valuable? What if you have a heart that beats for others and you are well aware that the biggest blind spot is our own mirror? What if you simply want to help?

I don’t know. This is the “tension” of the title. On a cynical day, I’d say nobody cares what you think. On an optimistic day – which I believe is accurate – that mantra changes to almost nobody cares what you think. If we are becoming the people who listen and grow, how else would we be exposed to fresh new perspectives that change our own? Maybe we have to try, at some point. But what about all of the relationship wreckage that will surely litter our lives?

What about that??? Is it worth it?

See? Tension. We are asked to hold most things with 2 hands, rarely is anything purely black and white, no matter how much we want them to be. No matter how much we want a guidebook that will enter data and receive the correct answer.

Sometimes sure, it is worth it. Others, no way. And sometimes the yes and no are for precisely the same reason: because the relationship is that important.

Maybe this is why my lesson on Release is taking soooooooo long.

Release — February 12, 2020

Release

Every New Years, I reflect on the year that has passed and choose a word that will be my focus for the coming year. This year I decided on Release. Again.

3 of the last 5 years, I’ve chosen Release. Release expectations. Release my need to control outcomes. Release my need to control others responses. Release my grip on the universe and the way I think everyone should be and what everyone should do and how everything should go. Release my addiction to “Should.” Each of those 3 years identified a different specific aspect of release. It’s like the word love; it could and does mean so many things, so many different facets of the same 4 letters. I love my sweaters and I love peanut butter cups and I love my wife, but I don’t love them all in the same way. Probably shouldn’t be the same word at all, but sadly it is.

So, I’m giving my attention to this new version of Release and, to be honest, it’s going pretty well.

This is sort of what happened this week.

(Let’s call my friend Thanos) Thanos ran into a circumstance that is causing him a great deal of pain and suffering, 2 words that sound the same but aren’t even close. Pain is the thing, suffering is our response to the thing. Pain is unavoidable, suffering might not be. Depending on your perspective, maybe Thanos caused himself the pain or maybe he didn’t. Either way, he’s hurting.

[And for my whole life, I would walk with him, helping to carry this weight. Actually, the truth is probably closer to “I would walk with him, carrying this weight.” I didn’t see me as helping at all. I needed to “fix it,” self-impose a responsibility that wasn’t really mine. I wanted him to change his behavior, switch the path he was on, something. I mostly just wanted him to do what I wanted him to do. I saw this as love. I believe this came (comes) from a beautiful place, but as this information entered my wounded heart and was processed through the gauntlet constructed from the automatic lies that screamed “not enough” unless I was able to rescue him, it became a twisted idol of my own arrogance and self-importance. Interestingly, that superhero complex was always twisted once again because I could not be the rescuer – I was never meant to be, no one is – reinforcing the message that I was “not enough.” By trying to save the world, and failing, I kept living into a circle of despair and self-loathing. The flaw in my design was that I was measuring my own worth and value to an unattainable ideal. Which I needed to release. See?]

Back to this week. Previously, I would lose sleep, begin a crushing headache and be consumed by a need to ease Thanos’ pain, trying to prove something to someone. This week, I still walked along, still offered my prayers and time spent listening, perhaps offering potential solutions – but all of this with no strings attached. I guess what I did was love (in the highest definition of the word) Thanos. Just love him. The story was not mine. The burden wasn’t mine to carry alone – I could come alongside, be a brother and friend, and we could do this together. I didn’t need to selfishly make it about me, I could honor him, allow his to learn his lesson, walk his path.

It still hurts, it’s still uncomfortable, but that’s because I love Thanos, not because I’m trying to be somebody’s idea of enough. I can just love, and that’s always enough.