Tag: community

Courageous Conversations

Posted on by Niki

I hate conflict. I know that hate is a strong word, and I use that word intentionally here. I HATE conflict. Anger is a scary emotion that I would prefer avoiding at all costs. (the background of where that comes from is a story for another time) Nothing instigates my flight or freeze response more than when people express anger, especially by yelling. I feel like the character Brick from the movie Anchorman “Loud noises!”

How has that been working out for me? I can tell you. Not that great.

The purpose of healthy confrontation (or courageous conversation) is that it leads to healthy connection. If I want the genuine connection that I crave, then at some point I will need to wade into confrontation. Normally when the relationship gets to that point I freak out. Either the relationship stays at one level never going deeper, or the relationship is over. I have preferred to live miserable or let relationships disintegrate. I have burnt many bridges along the way.

I am now at a stage where I am tired of hiding for fear of being incinerated by some fire-breathing dragon (because that is how I often perceive people when they are angry you see). I cannot be free to be who I am if I am in constant hiding.

The scary reality that I need to face is that no community can deepen in connection without the presence of confrontation. There are few relationships in my life that won’t at some point meet head on with the need for those courageous conversations. So that means learning how to have those courageous conversations or brave communication. It means learning how to honour one another when we disagree. If no one in the community disagrees, then that’s a big problem. Because no one agrees on everything, so if everyone is agreeing on everything all the time, then someone is lying. The grown up version of hide and seek.

We need to acknowledge that we are different, and that we will have different opinions and ideas about things – even things that really matter to us. As it turns out, it is usually when what is important to us is insulted, that we feel the most hurt. And that is when the strong emotions we are feeling in that instance threaten to lead to unhealthy reactions. The infamous flight or fight response comes into effect. Some people come out swinging. Others run – either by physically or emotionally withdrawing, or by hiding. There is always playing dead – just pretend you don’t care at all. But that can’t last forever. You can only play dead for so long before all of that pent up emotion resurrects you into some kind of rage-full flesh-eating zombie. And like a volcano, we end up spewing our anger all over the poor innocents around us.

Whether we react by hiding from people or screaming or slamming doors, the result is the same: disconnection from the people around us.

I need to ask myself: How much do I want connection with this person? My desire for connection will hopefully be stronger than my fear of the potentially awkward unpleasantness of the conflict. I am a novice when it comes to confrontation so don’t read this hoping that I have all the answers you’re looking for. This isn’t a teaching session. There are people who have developed tools for doing confrontation well. I am not one of those people. Not yet anyway.

I am not offering a simple solution to deal with your fear of conflict in 500 words. All I can offer is to share with you a snapshot of my journey into embracing confrontation as a forerunner to connection.

Take courage dear heart.

Diversity in Community

Posted on by Niki

Often I think about the term “community” and wonder what that really means in the day to day living of our lives. I’m the kind of person who likes to reflect deeply on all angles before I commit to a ride on the bandwagon. What does it look like to be part of a community that truly celebrates diversity? I have been on a journey in the last few years of learning what it looks like to be me within we. I know that the word diversity may be frightening to some, but it need not be the case. Diversity does not mean that you have to lose your identity or your values to become part of some mindless entity. Personally I think it has to do more with learning what it means for you to be “you” and me to be “me” as together we learn to be “we” (thank you Danny Silk for this definition).

Susan Cain states that “we like to think that we value individuality, but all too often we admire one type of individual.” I am convinced that having a genuine value for individuality and diversity being expressed in community requires (intentional) hard and courageous work. Hard, because it often involves going against the cultural grain. And courageous, because it usually involves taking a good look within.

I’ve heard it said that if you are insecure in yourself, you will usually seek to distance yourself from those who are different from you. Their strengths are not cause for celebration. Instead they serve to remind you of your weaknesses. So we partition ourselves into the relative safety of sameness, and diversity remains beautiful from a distance.

The mantra of this mindset is you will never be one of us if you are too different. You must be the same to belong. Otherwise you will become … them. And no one wants to become THEM.

Division is one of the offspring of insecurity. False humility isn’t so humble.

May I suggest another approach? Learn to value who you are. Make room for personal development instead of personal condemnation. Make time to do what you love. In the ways and spaces that you love. Find your happy place. And then also make time to be stretched by others. Seek to learn from others.To understand others, in the same way you long to be understood. In doing so, we are more able to create an ebb and flow of giving and receiving.

If you value you, then you will find it mush easier to value others.

As a wise person once said; love your neighbor as yourself. Truthfully to genuinely love another requires first loving yourself.

I love the analogy of community as being likened to the human body. Each part is diverse in look and role and yet each serves in the function of helping the body to be the body. The Apostle Paul described it this way:

Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many. Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body. (1 Corinthians 12:14-20)

A body that would only consist of one part wouldn’t be considered a body, but simply a body part.  A body part can’t really live on its own, hanging out by itself. That wouldn’t be healthy. And yet there are times when we happily dissect human community into bits and pieces, separating from one other. At times we may even call it good. Thank goodness “they” are there and “we” are here. Now I am not referring to “there” and “here” in terms of nations or continents. Two people could be standing right next to each other and yet have a chasm of distance between them. May I be so bold to suggest that this body called community needs a doctor. Someone who specialises in reconciling the distance. A healer to stitch up the broken wounds and mend the fractured bones.

There are many examples I could use; from gender, to race, to socio-economic status, to political affiliation etc. But I’ll offer just one example or now. I know that there are those who feel that they may be considered “too much”. For years, I was so busy feeling “too little”, I hadn’t realized there were so many struggling this way. In my insecurity, their volume reminded me of my (perceived) lack. That others might perceive me as too quiet. The smaller the voice, the smaller the personality.

I want to say to those that have ever felt too much, that no. You are not too much. You are perfectly imperfectly you. And I am perfectly imperfectly me. And that’s okay. I know that now. I accept that now.

We are different.  We need it to be that way. God made it that way. We need to bring diversity into our collective embrace to fully realize what community can be.

Living Alive

Posted on by Niki

Large group of young people enjoying a beach party

Inspired by the song Live Alive by Rend Collective.

My technophobic tendencies have been one of my main fears (among other fears) for not wanting to unleash my blog on the world earlier.  I wanted this site to look pretty snazzy before anyone would see it. With all the bells and whistles. I see other people’s websites and think oh would you look at that. But if I waited until I could get it perfect, I never would have started and you would not be reading this right now. We all have to start somewhere, you have to learn how to walk before you can run, don’t despise the day of small beginnings etc.

And there’s also something to be said about simplicity… but I digress.

I wanna live alive, I wanna live alive

I hear about metaphors like family feasting. Creating space for everyone to come and share who they are at the feast of community and family. Blessing each other through the giving and receiving of one anther. A feast we all get to share in. A beautiful metaphor I agree…so how come so many of us hold back? Isn’t this what we have always wanted? To belong somewhere, to be seen, and to be valued.

This is probably the part where I bring out the big guns, the big V word. Good ole vulnerability. All too often we are afraid that people will see the real us and not like what they see.

Don’t wanna live a lie, don’t wanna live a lie.

I have been thinking about how, over the years, I haven’t given of myself as wholly to people and community as I could have. For whatever reasons, I have chosen to hold back most of myself and to only share part of who I am. It seems like a safer way to live but not a very fulfilling way to live. What is that about?

This brings me to the big P word. Pain. Yes that one.

 Its scary to show up precisely because it might hurt. I don’t want to risk myself because I don’t want to feel pain. It is easier to close off than risk the pain of heartbreak again. Now I’m not referring purely to romantic love, as heartbreak comes through any kind of loss i.e the loss of friendships, the death of someone close, death of a dream, changing locations, schools or jobs. It hurts. The temptation is to shut our hearts from feeling too deeply again. This way, we hope that we won’t have to experience that pain again. We give portions of ourselves. So we end up living half alive.

 When I talk about (my) process, this is one of the big ones.

Letting people see the real me. Letting myself build connections with people.

Saying goodbye to a community of people that you have grown to love is painful. Even if the reason you are parting is a positive one. Then having to rebuild with a brand new group of people, knowing that you may part ways in the future… can be hard, frightening work. Since no one can know the future for certain. And we cannot control other people. It is that uncertainty which makes connection risky.

There’s a courage that is forged in pain.

The reality is that the more emotionally healed and whole a person becomes, the more they increase their ability to bring themselves fully and give and receive love, and the more they love, the more potential for pain.

Am I really willing to take that risk?

I have though long and hard about it. I have decided that yes. The risk is worth it. I am worth it. Others are worth it. Community is worth it.

I will risk my heart a thousand times to feel again.

I would rather bring myself more fully and risk potential future heartbreak, then only give part of myself. That choice doesn’t lessen the fear or increase the certainty of the outcome. But it does instill a sense of hope that there is more. There is more for me. There is more for all of us.

I want to be part of a lavish feast. Not a subsidiary meal of bread and water.

To not take that risk does make life safer. But its half a life.

Is that what I want? Is that what you want?

Rather, here’s to a full life.