Welcome to my blog
I figure it this way. I’m not a minister. And I’m not a martial arts teacher. Simply said, I’m me. I do ministry and martial arts, and a few other things as well. It’s an equivocation, to be sure, but the difference is a big one as far as my mental and spiritual health goes.
So much so that I asked my son Jared–a wizard at things technical and true–to put together a personal blog. While I’m not certain that anyone will read it–is it important that someone reads this, I’m not sure, and if someone does won’t that change things?–I am convinced that if I continue to think that I am such and such, I’ll never get to the place where I’m completely comfortable with myself.
I hear you saying it. “Can anyone feel completely comfortable with themselves?” That, I’m certain while I hesitate on principle to be so certain, is the point of it all.
Five or six years ago, when I was in parish ministry as a full-time endeavor–with a staff of thirty-two expectant ones, a million dollar budget to manage and a congregation of a thousand or more folks driving both–I probably would have said “no.” “It’s the journey,” or something like that. But a half-dozen years later and a few defining moments and rigorously derived revelations along the way, I’ve come to understand that while self-discovery is the point of it all–and we should probably capitalize “self” when we talk this way, since the mystery of Self is that spiritual and profound–there actually is a destination. And a part of that blissful place is self-acceptance.
Do I like myself? I do. Am I comfortable with what I’m doing? I am. Do I like the people I’m with? You bet. There all good questions. And I’ve finally come to the place–outside of the church, away from someone else’s demands, and close enough to my own heart that I can hear “the divine breathings,” as one Quaker writer put it though the divinity of it all is still a bit of a bother–where I can finally separate me from the ideas, responsibilities and activities that move me.
Can you do that?
I can only speak for myself while I’m hoping the same for you, but I’m still working on it. I’m amazed that despite it all I’m more and more satisfied with my responses when the questions are asked, no matter what other people think or even say.
Welcome to my blog. In some ways I’d like to think nobody will read this. I’ll have a better chance of keeping things honest.
Namaste.
I will be reading your new blog, unless, of course, you don’t want me to!
Since becoming a stay-at-home-mom, for the first time my identity is not characterized by my job. Now it is being a mom and wife and friend and whatever else, and that’s what I wanted all along anyway.
Welcome to the world of blogging!
Even “mom” or “wife” can rob a person of energy, especially if it becomes a chore, which at some point, of course, parenting–as an example–will. What would it feel like if Rachel was Rachel? And she often times mothered, and sometimes wived, and occasionally befriended, etcetera? That’s my point. And man is it tough…especially when folks lodge so much weight and expectation on a given word, “pastor,” for example, or “parent…”
I’ve been a journalist, but that’s never defined me. I’ve been a wife and mother, and struggled at times to keep the balance healthy.
Nancy Ann is most succinctly who I am. Is that all? I’m sure there’s more. Is it enough? Most days it is. And I’m finding, thanks to the insights and encouragement of some special ones in my life, new ways to underline or italicize the “me” in the sentences or paragraphs that define my life.
What’s the point? Perhaps it’s the exclamation . . .
Anna