Sunday, September 20

Rhetoric, Anxiety, and the Apology I'm (Supposed To Be) Living Without

It's been a while.

Mostly, I blame grad school--there really isn't time to do much outside of schoolwork. And summer is always much crazier than I expect it to be, and any writing I did was working on my novel (which I have since decided I need to shelve and ponder for a while because of reasons).

But the time away has given me a chance to think about the point of having a blog in the first place. I can certainly tell you what I do with it: sometimes I vent, occasionally I post an article I find interesting, and once in a great while I just like to update the virtual community about the goings-on in my life. But somewhere under all of that I know what this is really for--and I try to pretend I'm not avoiding it.

When I created this blog in 2011, it was because I was sick of not saying what I thought, sick of hiding from the things that I think and believe and care about. I was fresh out of college and everything was new and different and I decided: this is it. This is my space to think out loud. I'm going to create a blog that people have to choose to read, and it's not my fault if they don't agree, and if they don't care enough to hear me out and respect my perspective then that says more about them and the true nature of our relationship than it does about me.

That determination lasted for about three posts, and then I moved on to "I loved this book" and "ooh look at this interesting article I read." And now, years later, I'm still hiding.

Some of you may know, or have guessed, but it's not really a secret: I deal with a lot of anxiety. I've been told by a professional (but just one, so take that as you will), that I rank in the 93rd percentile for the amount of anxiety I have. (That means, she explained to a mathematically-challenged Piera, that only 7 percent of the population has more anxiety than I do.) That's... well, that's a lot of anxiety. I've lived with it for long enough that I don't always notice it, and teaching myself TO notice it has been the real challenge, but it's been getting better. Mostly. But it doesn't help me much when it comes to being honest with people about what I think. It's to the point now that a lot of the time I try to figure out how to say as much of what I mean in as little words as possible, because I can't believe that anyone would want to hear me talk long enough for me to get to what I'm actually trying to say. Mostly, that belief just shuts me up--I can't think fast enough, can't get to my main point fast enough, so it's probably better just to say nothing at all.

You might be wondering what I'm talking about. If you've made it this far (see my disbelief, above), then rest assured that I'll get to the point. Eventually. Probably.

It's hard, I have discovered, to exist as a practicing Christian in largely non-Christian environments. So hard, in fact, that a few people have been surprised to discover that I am a Christian. Someone told me once that they appreciated the way that I went about being one, because I didn't shove it in people's faces. In a certain sense, I was quite pleased to hear this, because I have little patience for people (Christians and non-Christians alike) who aggressively shove their beliefs in the faces of others. Underneath that initial pleasure, however, was the sinking feeling of failure, of being lukewarm. What does it say about my faith if I hold it so close to my heart that it surprises people to discover it there? And (more importantly) what does it say about God and what it means to have this faith--especially one that, as too few of you know, I hold at the very core of every way that I understand the world?

People (Christians and non-Christians alike) have an increasing tendency to make declarative statements about their beliefs, without considering (a) whether that statement truly aligns with and represents their "worldview" or theology, or (b) how they sound while making these broad, generalized comments. I have tried for my entire life to avoid doing either of these things. When non-Christians do them, I feel a vague sense of "that's not fair," because if I were to voice my beliefs about a particular topic, it would be generally written off as being preachy and obnoxious (and ain't nobody got time for that). But the thing is, when Christians make ignorant or abrasive comments, it makes me annoyed, nearly to the point of angry. Sometimes it's a matter of theology, and by theology I mean that what they are saying is not what the Bible actually says or means. Sometimes, even if their theology is correct, said Christian comes across as just generally being a loudmouthed jerk. Either way, Christianity, Christ, and the faith are all sorely misrepresented.

Before half of you who are reading this explode into a kind of frenzied alarm about my theological values, let me add this: I am not saying that Christians shouldn't advocate for their beliefs when those beliefs are fully grounded in what God has told us through his Word. I'm also not saying that those beliefs will be welcomed by the world, or that we should amend our beliefs so that they will be accepted by everyone. I'm not saying this at all. Both Jesus and Paul, among others (okay, like everyone in the Bible), make it perfectly clear that what we have to say is not going to be popular, and that is part of the challenge we face while we are still on earth. But there is a difference between holding firm to what you believe and being belligerent or rude about those beliefs.

In Paul's letter to the Colossians, he writes: "Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." [1]

Paul's not telling the Colossians (or us) to "say things that people want to hear." But he is explaining that as children of God, it's our job to live in a way that demonstrates the love and peace of Christ Jesus.

But, because this post is really about me and my issues (hashtag selfie...!), Paul also doesn't say "hide the truth, defend your pride, keep your mouth shut so you don't cause any conflict." And this is my daily struggle. This is the battle I continue to lose.

I'm so jealous of the people who seem to find it easy to state their beliefs on any given topic. Many of them even do it gracefully, in a way that people listen and accept that while they may have a different view, that person is entitled to those beliefs. Some of them have told me that I just need to "care less about what people think," which might have some value, but then again, might not be a value that I can fit into who I am. And besides I've spent too many years being told, by different people and in different ways, that what I have to say is only valid so long as it doesn't run contrary to what the other person is saying. Most of the time, in my effort to be humble, I give up on expressing myself in order to validate the other person (which, I should add, is more out of cowardice than actual humility). And now, here I am, trying to exist as an adult (ha!) with many people who don't share my beliefs or my faith, and with whom I am trying to maintain various types of relationships.

The problem, I have realized, is that there are so few people that I actually trust to hear me out, to let me hold the shrew-stone [2] long enough to make sense of my "divided mind" [3] and get to some kind of point. It's hard for me to accept that I take a while to process my thoughts. I like to think I have a quick wit, generally speaking, but when it comes to things I care about, things that matter, things that have to come from the very protected core of who I am--it might take hours, or days, or years. I might never say it, no matter how much I need to, no matter how much I want you to hear it. Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of losing you, afraid of inviting an argument, afraid of damaging your feelings, afraid that I might have any kind of effect on you at all, and that you might resent me for it.

But even in those moments when I get over myself, when I truly believe that the things I have to say might be more important than either of our feelings, I am faced with the paralyzing fear that I will say the wrong thing. At the core of it all, I'm a writer. Words matter. And if I haven't had the time to draft and reflect and revise, then I'm not ready to tell you. And conversations move so fast, and you're almost done with your beer, or I have to get to class, and my ideas are exploding like fireworks and I can't pull the shells together fast enough to even hand you a piece of shrapnel as we walk away from each other. And anyway, even if I was a little faster, I might hand you the wrong piece, something out of context that doesn't really say what it's supposed to mean.

It's better to stay quiet. It's safer. I can't fuck anything up that way.


I've been writing this post in my head for years. I've started it twice and walked away from it. Right now I'm working on my third version of this draft, and I'm still fighting the urge to tuck it away somewhere, to not say anything at all and certainly not share this post on any kind of social media. This is my problem, my particular dramatic emotional issue. No one really needs to know about it.

Why do we blog, anyway? Why do we tweet, or repost, or share pictures about our lives? Do we really think our mostly-unregulated circles of kind-of-but-not-actually-"friends" care about what we have to say? Do we really think we'll make some kind of impression on anyone? Do we want to? Do we care?

I care. I care too much. I care about the person who's upset that I used the word "fuck" just now (and in a post about Jesus, too!). I care about the person who's caught up on my having a faith that's not even supposed to be widely accepted. I care about the people who are going to leave a comment to be supportive, to tell me that they care, that they think I have worthwhile things to say. I care too much, but I don't think any of that matters. I don't think I'm doing this for you. I think I'm writing because I have to, because it's eating at me from inside and if I don't start writing, don't start sharing in some capacity, don't take my rants out from behind my shower curtain and make them in some way public, I'm going to drive myself mad.

Peter tells us to "live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God." [4] That's why I started writing: because I am a free servant of God, and because's he's given me a capacity to write. He planted all these fireworks, and he's going to keep setting them off. I don't know if I'll ever know whether I'm affecting you. I don't think that's the point. I have to trust in the freedom I'm given, and trust that he wouldn't set me loose on the world if he didn't think it was a good idea. I have been saved by grace, through faith, [5] and that faith sets me free--free from fear and from the constant pressure I put on myself to be perfect.

Living without apology is the single most difficult thing I have ever tried to do. And it might never get any easier. But since I have the hope of Christ "as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul" [6] --what have I got to lose?

---
[1] Colossians 3:12-17
[2] it's a Redwall reference. basically everyone has to shut up while the person with the stone says what they have to say.
[3] in Greek, the word "anxious" translates most literally as "drawn in opposite directions" or "divided into parts." See here for more details.
[4] 1 Peter 2:16
[5] Ephesians 2:8
[6] Hebrews 6:19a

2 comments:

  1. Sometimes, a blog is a great way to get that stuff out - you get time to think and revise, to be better on paper, and then you release it, shouting into the void in the hope that one person will say,
    i hear you

    ReplyDelete