process – wear the red dress

Seasons come and go. That is not a bad thing. That is how life works. In the natural world we transition into new seasons four times a year. They bleed into one another around the edges, but there is still a transition from one season to the next. It is a valuable thing to know what season you are in. You don’t want to be wearing your winter coat in summer. And you wouldn’t really want to strip down and go swimming in winter. We reserve particular clothes and actions for particular seasons.

What season are you in? What do you need for the season you are in?

Unlike the natural seasons, we don’t always know how long our seasons will last, or exactly what they will look like. We cannot always compare our season to someone else’s season, because often, different seasons can affect people differently. Winter in the northern region of New Zealand is very different from winter in the Canadian interior. Your winter may be quite different to someone else’s winter. Beware of concocting formulas for people to follow based on your subjective experience.

I wonder about how this impacts on families and communities. As we can be closely knit to people and be in different places and having different experiences all at once.

I have read the words of a wise person who told of the importance of being able to mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice. He shared this advice within the context of community. Community contains this intermingling of celebrating and grieving. And we can all be in completely different seasons at the same time. You have permission to mourn your difficulties and you also have permission to celebrate your victories.

The Northern and Southern hemispheres experience opposite seasons at the same time. It is summer in New Zealand right now. It would not be wise for me to pack my summer clothes into a suitcase and fly to northern Europe, and walk around in my summer clothes. Just like it would be unwise to try to live in someone else’s season. You have permission to be in your season. Rejoicing with those who rejoice does not mean that you pretend to be in that person’s season. Could it be possible to both acknowledge your season while acknowledging someone else’s season? It’s okay to admit the struggle and difficulties that you are facing and the pain that you are feeling, and then to turn and celebrate your friend in the joy and delight that they are feeling. This is possible. Although I haven’t yet mastered this precious art.

Until we can do this, people around us will hide their seasons from us. If I cannot mourn when you mourn, eventually you will stop mourning around me. And if I cannot rejoice when you rejoice, you will save your rejoicing for another time.

You are not defined by your season. Do not immediately interpret hard seasons as meaning that there is something wrong with you. Do not allow others to do that to you either. It is a season. It is not you. It is important to know who you are so that you don’t allow your season to define your identity.

Develop an understanding of seasons. Importantly, learn to respect the seasons that other people are in.

There is a balance of knowing which circumstances to accept and which ones to fight. Since not everything that happens to us is to be blindly accepted. I understand that. Don’t for one second think that I am advocating for the tolerance of abuse. Abuse is not a season.

It is hard being in a different season to those around you. I know. I constantly feel like I’m in a different season, a different person to many of those around me. But this does not excuse me to not respect my season, or your season.

Know yourself. Know your season. Know your needs in the season you are in.

Season image taken from weheartit.com

Traveler woman sits on retro suitcase and looks away on road

Process. This topic causes such a strong visceral reaction in me that I decided one word would be enough for the title. I admit I have a love hate relationship with the whole concept. I love it in theory. I hate it in practice. I am like a small child on a car journey constantly questioning if are we there yet. Are we there yet?

I still remember being told a few years ago that my process is beautiful. As a perfectionist I agonized over that statement. How could there be beauty in process or in imperfection? You know what I have discovered? You cannot fully embrace process and perfectionism at the same time. Perfectionism is different from excellence. Perfectionism ties our self worth to having it all together/being perfect. It tells you that you have to be perfect to be worthy of love. Perfectionism says that as long as you are in process you are not worthy of love, only the shame of being unlovable. A hugely important key to embracing process is to know that you are worthy of love and belonging. You don’t have to earn it through being perfect or having arrived.

There is a Japanese aesthetic concept that embraces imperfection as a part of beauty called wabi-sabi. According to this idea, the perfect is unreal and, therefore, lacks a certain depth. A piece of pottery that is cracked is filled with gold to draw attention to the crack instead of hiding it. A piece of pottery that’s not symmetrical or has a chip is seen as beautiful, not despite its flaw, but because of it.

Peter Scazzero shares the following story in his book the Emotionally Healthy Church:

There once lived a water carrier in India. He used two large pots for his task. He suspended a pole across his neck and attached a pot at each end of the pole. One of the pots had a big crack in it while the other pot was perfect. The perfect pot always delivered a full portion of water from the stream to the master’s house, while the cracked pot arrived only half full each day. For two years this water carrier made the same journey. The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. The cracked pot was ashamed of its imperfection and miserable that it was only able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

Finally, one day by the stream, the cracked pot spoke to his owner about his bitter failure, “I am ashamed of myself , and I want to apologize that I have only been able to deliver half my water to your house. There is a crack in my side which causes water to leak out. Because of my flaws, you don’t get full value from your efforts.”

Then the water carrier replied, smiling, “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.”

On that trip from the stream, the cracked pot looked around.

“Did you notice there are flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we passed these spots, you watered them. Now for two years, I have been able to pick those beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s table. Without you being just the way you are, I would not have this beauty to grace his house.”

There is beauty in being imperfect. Truly there is.

The main question that we want to know is; are we worthy of love and belonging?

A culture of scarcity tells us that there is never enough to go around. That we must compete for whatever limited love and worth that there is. Comparison says that my worth is dependent upon being better or worse than someone else. We don’t always know what is going on behind the scenes or in another person’s internal world. Comparison is a thief. It robs us of the joy of community as it targets vulnerability. Vulnerability can be defined as our openness to being affected by one another, to being touched by anther human being. Vulnerability invites people in. Comparison keeps people at a distance.

I have learnt that the most important key to embracing process, is the ability to process pain without attaching shame to it. I’ve recently realised that I have made process a lot worse than it needed to be because of the shame that I associated with being in process. It is important for us is to stop looking at process as a way of getting fixed and achieving all togetherness. I think God made us all imperfect on purpose. It causes us to need each other.

Here’s something I found from my writings three years ago reflecting my up and down and round and round approach to process:

I have believed that I need to have some measure of “perfection” in order to be used by God and to be loved by others. And process means that I am not perfect. To me process meant putting your life on hold, getting fixed, put together, before actually being able to live my life fully. I understand this to be such a lie. I now believe that process doesn’t “put my life on hold”, that in fact it is healthy and it is good.

My attitude towards process is a process.

When we learn to let go of perfectionism, comparison and shame and practice the healthy processing of painful emotions we are more able to thrive in life. And instead of asking are we there yet, we can let go and maybe even enjoy the ride.