Everything Leads to Goodbye

A while ago I had the opportunity to view a film of a theatrical production of Kiss the Moon, Kiss the Sun and one thing in particular that struck me was the phrase, "Everything leads to goodbye."  That reflected the experience of a disabled man, a major character in a quite beautiful story, but I will say no more about it so as to avoid any spoilers for those who may wish to experience the story for themselves.

Everything leads to goodbye.

That phrase has continued to echo in my mind these past months.  How much it reflects our experience of this life!

So many times people comment that they hate goodbyes.  Then they refuse to say goodbye and just say, "See you later," or some other trite phrase.  (Which in my opinion is a trifle silly, as the origin of goodbye is simply "God be with you," a beautiful wish for anyone, and implies no end, but thus the corruption of language.)

How silly we are sometimes to try to hold on so hard.  We try to preserve the past with hordes of pictures and memorabilia that we scarcely ever bother to look back at and then we complain prodigiously about the amounts of stuff we have.  We are always trying to perpetuate the goods of the current moment, just as the apostles at the Transfiguration wanted to build tents that Christ might remain there with Moses and Elijah always.  We do not want anything we perceive as good to pass away.  So we become slaves to the past.

It is not only things we hold onto, but people too.  We try to retain the relationships we had whether people die or drift out of our lives.

I used to think that everything would work out and that all the tangled web of relationships lost or strained would be straightened out if only I sought love and trusted in God.  I thought I would understand why those goodbyes had to come and why those things happened that led up to the necessity of breaking or loosening ties.

Yet as time goes on and the ache of those broken relationships goes on, I doubt I will find the happy endings I once looked for.  Perhaps I read too much as a child, for my mind seems to have been trained to believe that everything will tie up neatly and reach its wrapped-up end within a short and reasonable time.  Or perhaps that is merely human nature.

In any case, I know now that when I expect those perfect conclusions, I place all the emphasis on events resolving outside of myself.  (To put it in dramatic terms, I focus on plot instead of on character.)  In other words, I let go of my own responsibility.

Reality does not reflect my desires.  Instead of finding the warped threads of scattered paths coming together into one clear line, I am seeing the threads diverge more and more across the dark wood before me.

Yet my heart knows the Presence that remains still no matter how broken and empty it is.  The more I let go, the more I become aware of that great and awesome Presence waiting.

My heart is beginning to understand a deeper reality: it is not those ecstatic moments of joy and heart-felt connection to which we must cling.  Indeed, we must cling to nothing.  We must let go, adrift on the dark flowing waters as the moon and stars shine down upon us.  We can smile up at that night sky because our hearts are set free—because we are okay with goodbyes even if they last until forever.

"We are our own aptest deceiver." - Goethe

"...he forgot for the while what experience had taught him—
that no human being can really understand another,
and no one can arrange another's happiness."

The Heart of the Matter
by Graham Greene

Those last two phrases in particular sound out in bold ringing tones, like a bell struck hard in an old abandoned church tower that grates out a harsh unused and funereal tone, scattering pigeons into flight and drawing the gaze of those working nearby in the fields.  So it might catch us, striking us out of the stolid comfort of our own assurance.

Sometimes we get caught up in thinking we can make others happy.  That desire often places upon us an undue burden, leading to pain or mental illness.  We may despair because of the impossibility of even understanding what will produce another's happiness.

In the sense of the above quotation, trying to arrange happiness becomes a sort of manipulation.  All too often that is exactly what our love is: an attempt to control others.  Thus even what is good—namely love, which is willing the good of the other—has become corrupt.  We may not realize how deep is the decay of our intentions.  We continue to deceive ourselves in focusing on doing the other good, but it is a good that ultimately seeks to give us a sort of power over them.

Similarly, the desire to please others leads us into the trap of manipulation.  The logic in our heads is as follows: if we do what others wish, they will be happy.  It is good logic.  The problem is in the premises; after all, receiving precisely what we want does not make us happy, ridiculous as that fact is.

Furthermore, as long as we are trying to force a result, we are manipulating, controlling, dominating.  We are not free to give and receive.  Henri Nouwen expresses this idea perfectly in his book called The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom:

"A lot of giving and receiving has a violent quality, because the givers and receivers act more out of need than out of trust.  What looks like generosity is actually manipulation, and what looks like love is really a cry for affection or support."

How many times have we gone to others looking for love, begging for them to fulfil our needs while trying to hide from them the fact that we were in need at all?  So many times we reach out in hope that another will fill the void within.  Sometimes we dare not even risk that much vulnerability and turn to pleasures instead.

Yet there is a way to break out of this crippling circle of insanity.  As Nouwen himself puts it, we must first experience love in the depths of our being:

"When you know yourself as fully loved, you will be able to give according to the other's capacity to receive, and you will be able to receive according to the other's capacity to give.  You will be grateful for what is given to you without clinging to it, and joyful for what you can give without bragging about it.  You will be a free person, free to love."

That is the key to achieving the liberty of being able to love generously: we must set others free from our desires for them and accept the fruit of our efforts and offerings made out of love, no matter whether we achieve success or failure.  We must do our duty and leave the rest to the One who is All-Powerful.

Yes, we must surrender our wills.  We must surrender everything to the Creator and Healer of our souls.

Yet if it is love we desire, how could we do better then to lay ourselves in whole-hearted surrender at the feet of the One who is Love?  It is hard many times to receive love from One so intangible.  It seems impossible to entrust ourselves to One so hidden.  How can we reasonably expect One so unseen to care for us?  And yet He does.  And He does so according to our capacity to receive, according to our surrender.

In the end, He is not after all so invisible.  It is we who are blind.

Fundamental Joy

"Man is more himself...when joy is the fundamental thing in him...."

The other day I had the privilege of seeing two friends at the most joyful peak of their lives thus far—and bearing what seemed the most radiantly-happy beaming faces I have ever seen.  It was a glimpse of true love.  In that joy they seemed all the more themselves, as if the joy arose from their evangelical descent into the truth, shedding away all layers of falsity and pretention and leaving only their bright shining souls.

My heart rose in answer to their joy.  I wanted to be so gloriously, unashamedly myself.

Their joy seemed too deep for words, as if it must burst forth from them in acts of self-giving love.  For these two dear young women were taking the next step in their new mission of service, taking new names for each to encapsulate her individual mission as she ventured further into the heart of Christ.

I also have no more words: merely joy and awe and gratitude to have attended the Mass where these two Sisters received their habit and took their new names.  God's blessings be upon you, dear Sisters!

Now I will leave you with the full quotation of which I gave you a glimpse above, taken from Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton:

"Man is more himself, man is more manlike, when joy is the fundamental thing in him, and grief the superficial. Melancholy should be an innocent interlude, a tender and fugitive frame of mind; praise should be the permanent pulsation of the soul. Pessimism is at best an emotional half-holiday; joy is the uproarious labour by which all things live…. The vault above us is not deaf because the universe is an idiot; the silence is not the heartless silence of an endless and aimless world. Rather the silence around us is a small and pitiful stillness like the prompt stillness in a sick-room. We are perhaps permitted tragedy as a sort of merciful comedy: because the frantic energy of divine things would knock us down like a drunken farce. We can take our own tears more lightly than we could take the tremendous levities of the angels. So we sit perhaps in a starry chamber of silence, while the laughter of the heavens is too loud for us to hear."

Life is Pain

"Life is pain, Highness; anyone who says differently is selling something."

-Westley in The Princess Bride

These days nearly everyone is selling something.  Whether it is engagement jewelry or cheap soda, vacation home timeshares or the latest technological gadget, our society centers around consumerism.  Our economy improves primarily based upon how many unnecessary bits of paraphernalia you, the consumer, will purchase, even if you must rack up thousands of dollars in debt to do so.

Clearly—if you will believe the advertisements thrust upon you from every quarter—you must own a desktop computer, laptop computer, mp3 player, iPad, iPod, iPhone, new car, new house, stereo system, barbeque grill, printer, scanner, Ninja blender, ride-on lawn mower, golf cart, 4-wheeler, motorcycle, moped, DVD player, CD player, 62GB USB stick, digital camera, telescope, binoculars, electronic keyboard, LED lights, water skis, etc., etc.  You need caffeine, alcohol, drugs, and fifteen different kinds of painkillers.  In short, you need anything that increases your pleasure and decreases your pain.

Consequently, we ought to be the happiest people in all history.  Yet are we?

Depression, anxiety, and other mental illnesses continue to increase dramatically.  Current statistics state that one in five adults in the U.S. suffer from a mental illness each year.  Yes, a fifth of our adult population is struggling, not to mention the prevalence of mental issues among children and teens.  And the number of suicides only continues to rise.

Why is this?

When we listen to the voices of the world and believe that we are not smart enough, strong enough, or beautiful enough, we shrink in our own estimation.  When we are told we have the wrong hair color, skin color, body type, or gender, how are we supposed to be happy?

By changing our exteriors?  Then we only build up layer upon layer of mask behind which to hide.  And we know very well how to hide.

Yet there is another course.  Theatre teaches us how great is the value of vulnerability: in laying bare our very selves and refusing to flee the pain, we find a deep inner strength.  By coming to know ourselves and accepting who we are, we discover the unique perspective we alone can offer the world.

How do we find the strength to face that pain?

Leaving aside the facts, let me speak personally for a moment: I find it daily in the love I receive from my family and my friends who love me because of who I am with all of my eccentricities.  I have found the greatest happiness in my life not by trying to change myself to fit the pressures of the world and become someone else, but by learning to love myself as I am and to become daily more myself.

Sometimes the pain returns when relationships fail.  Caught up as others are in their own pain and hectic lives, they do not see our need for love and support.  Nor do they understand how much their love bridges the chasm of loneliness.

Yet even there we can stand strong in the face of agony, for there is One who never fails.  Looking back upon my life, I see that my Lord has always been there for me.  Even when all around me may seem to fail me, He is there, carrying me along my way, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad....