self-improvement, self hatred, and grace

I remain quite thoroughly among the thoughts that I last wrote about. (I'm thinking this once-a-month blogging thing may be sustainable.)

Have been reading a book by Paul Tillich about faith. It's still tough for me, because I definitely feel very resistant to religion in many ways, because it has caused so much harm for so many people over history as well as in our world. And because it has caused so much harm for me (see below).

But at the same time, I do think I've been overreacting against some parts of it, and I want to stop doing that. So I've spent a lot of time (to the detriment of law school commitments, perhaps) continuing to consider the things I admire in people, the things that I think really matter in life. Love, forgiveness, curiosity, compassion, courage, creativity, humility. I don't know if I'll ever be able to associate myself with any specific religion, because there's too much baggage to them. But I think my belief in these ideals does in some way resemble a belief in God. Not sure exactly how, but that's what it seems like.

The topic I'm thinking about now, though, is something slightly different: What to do when you fall (far) short of these ideals?

I was raised on the idea of "love the sinner, hate the sin." Seems like a logical plan for improvement, criticism. But I'm wondering how much is it really possible, especially with oneself. That is, how much is it really possible both to commit yourself to change things about yourself, while not simply descending into self-loathing?

I happen to think that for me, my all-pervasive self-criticism frequently hinders my actual self-improvement. It makes me profoundly unhappy. And in the end it actually feeds the sorts of insecurities and anxieties and fears and so on that drive me to act selfishly. So it's self-defeating.

I once was very close to someone who thought that a way to help me was to expose me to all the things that were bad about me, to really make me face them head-on. I believe this person was well-meaning, and certainly was an insightful individual in general. And I think that under some circumstances there could be some good that would come of this sort of approach. But unfortunately, for me it had just the opposite of the desired effect. I was already carrying around so much self-criticism and insecurity that anything that added to that became too much. I became overwhelmed. I felt very alone, and I felt like everything was falling out from under my feet. It was a panicky, perspectiveless time, and I disappointed myself and this person deeply.

Perhaps the point is, then, that whether with yourself or others, there has to be something else that comes with serious criticism--love, acceptance, a feeling that while things need to change, there is hope. And that is a tough thing. There's just an inherent tension between love, acceptance, and...change! (I remember this play I saw one time, called "I love you, you're perfect, now change.") Actual self-improvement does take a lot of honesty and straightforwardness, more than we can usually muster. Notwithstanding all my self-criticism and so on, I'm still surprisingly complacent. I need brutal honesty. But that alone, it seems, isn't enough: that alone leads to despair.

So you see, there's a tension.

So perhaps the point is, that I'm actually feeling somewhat pessimistic about the possibility of change. Maybe it can only happen very slowly, and with an incredible amount of acceptance and love to accompany it. And that's a tall order.

28th birthday. And maybe, something new.

The last 5 months or so have been incredibly low for me. More broadly (although not as intensely), the last several years have been incredibly low, as well.

I believe that this has been the case in large part because of my aggressive rejection (starting my last year of college) of the religion I was raised with. It all started when I became totally possessed by my anger at the close-minded, judgmental, patriarchal, legalistic view of God held by evangelical Christians.

Awash in my anger, I lost my moorings. I let myself be taken control of by my worst fears, ambitions, desires. I acted and thought selfishly, carelessly, thoughtlessly. I worked hard because I felt like I had to, not because I loved to. Although I struggled against it, I let myself be tempted to view people instrumentally (which Kant justly condemns as a profound flaw). Essentially, that is to say, I lost myself. I have been depressed, sad, lonely, fearful, and while in some ways functional, in other ways, lost--without a core.

I have been thinking about this for awhile now, for obvious reasons: I have been worried about what the hell I'm doing. Some of these thoughts came to a head last night as I was riding the subway.

I think I have thrown the baby out with the bathwater. In my haste to dispense with the doctrinal narrowness of evangelicals, I have failed to recall some of the profound goodness of spirituality.

I want to rediscover that profound goodness and power. (I will take advantage of a coincidence of the English language and call the source of this goodness and power not "God," but "the Good," in order to avoid some of the gendered, vengeful, or narrow associations that have unfortunately shaped many of our ideas of "God." There can't really be any difference, I don't think, between understanding "God" and understanding that which is Good. Goodness is as much as we humans can understand of whatever the meaning or purpose of life is; and this is as good as we are going to get, I think, to understanding "God.")

Not that I want to rediscover specific religious doctrines and start telling people how to live their lives or what to believe get to "heaven" or something. I have experienced firsthand how confusing, distorting, and destructive the strictures of doctrine are, in the course of human life.

But I do want to live with higher ideals governing me. I believe that life is (or should be) all about love, truth, and compassion; I want to start living in accordance with these beliefs (of course, very imperfectly--but as well as I can). I want to shun that which is evil, fearful, selfish, and pursue that which will bring peace and happiness.

I don't think it will be easy, and I am very humbled by how far off of this track I have wandered. But it feels like something of a spiritual awakening. (Maybe this all sounds cheesy. Maybe it is cheesy. All I know is that living with these ideals made me a much happier person in the past; and living the other way hasn't been doing that.)

Here are two quotes that I think are amazing, and express at least some of the ideals I want to pursue:

(1) “The flies seek filth, the bees seek honey. I will shun the habit of the flies and follow that of the bees. I will refrain from finding faults in others and look only for the good which is in them.”

(2) “Undisturbed calmness of mind is attained by cultivating friendliness toward the happy, compassion for the unhappy, delight in the virtuous, and indifference toward the wicked. If we meet someone who is happy in his way of life, we are inclined to envy him and be jealous of his success. We must learn to rejoice in it, as we take pleasure in the happiness of a friend. If someone is unhappy, we should feel sorry for him, instead of despising him or criticizing him for bringing misfortunes upon himself. The virtue of others is apt to irritate us, because we take it as a reflection upon our own shortcomings. We are tempted to sneer at it and suggest that it is only hypocrisy. On the contrary, we should delight in it and see it as an inspiration to do better. As for the wicked . . . ‘Be not overcome of evil.’ If someone harms us or hates us, our first instinct is to answer him or her with hatred and injury. We may succeed in injuring him or her, but we shall be injuring ourselves much more, and our hatred will throw our own minds into confusion.”

This is all of course oversimplified, particularly the parts as regards my own personal journey with regards to faith, family, etc. (after all, many hours on the couch go into all this, so there are a lot of ins and outs that are involved in the thinking), but sometimes things that are inherently complicated also have a very simple upshot. And maybe the upshot is all that matters on this one, at least for now.

(As the Big Lebowski would have it, "My thinking about this case had become very uptight....")