I've been pretty self-absorbed lately. Ironic, as I sit here writing a blogpost about...well, me. I'm usually very introspective, which can be both extremely healthy and extremely detrimental to my mental state. I like to keep it on the healthy, centering side of things as much as possible. No, lately I've been less concerned about contemplating who I am and how I live my life and much more concerned with stressing over the little things (my apologies to the universe for the amount of frustration I have recently expressed needlessly). Self-reflective versus self-absorbed. See the difference?
I realized it last week when John Ray and I sat down with the book of Common Prayer (specifically the one by Shane Claiborne prescribed for "ordinary radicals"). We were going through the liturgy and came to three bolded words that threw me for a loop: "Prayer for Others." Jesus Christ, there are others?! I thought, giving John Ray a look of bewilderment. He shrugged his shoulders and, realizing I was not going to say my prayer for others out loud, bowed his head to silently pray. In defense of myself, I honestly have felt very removed from any world outside our apartment. I (in my biased opinion) did a good job keeping the whole wedding season from being one big Elizabeth-fest because I wanted it to be about both of us and all of our family/friends. Now, though, we're in a new city where we've met few people and don't truly know anyone. So in terms of "others" here in Louisville, I didn't think I had anyone to pray for. Perhaps I could pray that others would be sent my way? I suggested to the dumbfounded silence in me. I have "others," though, who live in Charleston...Rock Hill...other places. Yet, I have felt so distant from them while trying to establish a new life here that I didn't have anything to meditate on for them. My life has been centered on creating a house and home, cooking and eating, looking for jobs, and watching Netflix when my introverted brain can take no more. Please, God, not another seven pages of job listings that are just barely interesting...but just interesting enough to make me read through all of them.
This started the thinking process...and a week later, here I sit: in my closet at midnight with all the lights off. Mostly because I kept John Ray up with abstract questions ("Do you think any person is ever completely powerless?") until I felt so guilty that I let him fall asleep only to have the questions continue floating around in my head--moving from self-absorption to self-reflection, stretching those forgotten muscles in anticipation. Just an example: I know that if I was truer to myself and read Huffington Post articles about interfaith prayer strengthening communities instead of brain-melting as I scroll through Facebook, unfollowing people who post too much, I would feel more energized and more connected with the world. I would probably view our neighbors, who seem just as shy as I seem severely allergic to small talk, as people to get to know and not people to check out the blinds for to decide if I should delay getting the mail or not...But I hyperbolize.
I am working on a post about "prayer" (to be defined and reimagined in various ways, I promise) because it's something I have spent a lot of time deconstructing and exploring. Also, my little sister and I just had an awesome conversation about it that was everything I needed and more. So that's coming. But first, I needed to sit in my closet and work through the blurriness of self-reflection and self-absorption. It's for me, but hey, you've joined in now and why not let it be for you, too? Self-absorption is insecure while self-reflection demonstrates how secure the mind really can be. Self-absorption disguises itself as a need so often (i.e. I need to figure out how I fit in this job description so I can get a job) while self-reflection allows honesty and vulnerability to be remarkably powerful. I volunteered during college as a direct defense to the self-absorbed thought processes that leave me depressed and anxious, while self-reflection was a powerful tool to take my service to a lifestyle of questioning injustice and pursuing peace. That shouldn't change now.
There are others. I just need to change my perspective and approach. Right now, they might come in the form of abstracts and possibilities, news articles and hypothetical community members; they might be people I need to get back in touch with in an attempt to continue living life alongside them...even states away. I'm hoping that they also come in the form of real, honest community here in Louisville.
I realized it last week when John Ray and I sat down with the book of Common Prayer (specifically the one by Shane Claiborne prescribed for "ordinary radicals"). We were going through the liturgy and came to three bolded words that threw me for a loop: "Prayer for Others." Jesus Christ, there are others?! I thought, giving John Ray a look of bewilderment. He shrugged his shoulders and, realizing I was not going to say my prayer for others out loud, bowed his head to silently pray. In defense of myself, I honestly have felt very removed from any world outside our apartment. I (in my biased opinion) did a good job keeping the whole wedding season from being one big Elizabeth-fest because I wanted it to be about both of us and all of our family/friends. Now, though, we're in a new city where we've met few people and don't truly know anyone. So in terms of "others" here in Louisville, I didn't think I had anyone to pray for. Perhaps I could pray that others would be sent my way? I suggested to the dumbfounded silence in me. I have "others," though, who live in Charleston...Rock Hill...other places. Yet, I have felt so distant from them while trying to establish a new life here that I didn't have anything to meditate on for them. My life has been centered on creating a house and home, cooking and eating, looking for jobs, and watching Netflix when my introverted brain can take no more. Please, God, not another seven pages of job listings that are just barely interesting...but just interesting enough to make me read through all of them.
This started the thinking process...and a week later, here I sit: in my closet at midnight with all the lights off. Mostly because I kept John Ray up with abstract questions ("Do you think any person is ever completely powerless?") until I felt so guilty that I let him fall asleep only to have the questions continue floating around in my head--moving from self-absorption to self-reflection, stretching those forgotten muscles in anticipation. Just an example: I know that if I was truer to myself and read Huffington Post articles about interfaith prayer strengthening communities instead of brain-melting as I scroll through Facebook, unfollowing people who post too much, I would feel more energized and more connected with the world. I would probably view our neighbors, who seem just as shy as I seem severely allergic to small talk, as people to get to know and not people to check out the blinds for to decide if I should delay getting the mail or not...But I hyperbolize.
I am working on a post about "prayer" (to be defined and reimagined in various ways, I promise) because it's something I have spent a lot of time deconstructing and exploring. Also, my little sister and I just had an awesome conversation about it that was everything I needed and more. So that's coming. But first, I needed to sit in my closet and work through the blurriness of self-reflection and self-absorption. It's for me, but hey, you've joined in now and why not let it be for you, too? Self-absorption is insecure while self-reflection demonstrates how secure the mind really can be. Self-absorption disguises itself as a need so often (i.e. I need to figure out how I fit in this job description so I can get a job) while self-reflection allows honesty and vulnerability to be remarkably powerful. I volunteered during college as a direct defense to the self-absorbed thought processes that leave me depressed and anxious, while self-reflection was a powerful tool to take my service to a lifestyle of questioning injustice and pursuing peace. That shouldn't change now.
There are others. I just need to change my perspective and approach. Right now, they might come in the form of abstracts and possibilities, news articles and hypothetical community members; they might be people I need to get back in touch with in an attempt to continue living life alongside them...even states away. I'm hoping that they also come in the form of real, honest community here in Louisville.
