We can’t learn much inside a box. Trouble is, most of us like our boxes.
A friend of mine is big on party games that push people outside their box – outside their activity comfort zone and people clicks. One such game was for his housewarming party. Participation was required and teams were selected at random with no switching. We were to disburse into surrounding neighborhoods to knock on doors and ask for items on a list that my friend wanted for his house – such as an interesting seat, something to drink out of, or a plant. The items could be acquired by other means as long as no money was spent, but getting to know the neighbors was the preferred method.
Are you crazy? I thought. I am being split up from the only people at this party that I know, and you want me to knock on some stranger’s door asking for them to give me things?
No one on my team was particularly thrilled about the activity. We started by trying to avoid door-knocking. It was after dark, and Rite-Aid had made the mistake of keeping house plants for sale outside. So there was one item. But as mostly non-criminal-types, we eventually we had to break down and start knocking. It was really embarrassing at first, but the neighbors were surprisingly open to giving away the items we requested. We made it back to the house with the entire list and ending up winning the game! It was the most fun I’d had in while.
The company I work for does something similar to break the “freshmen” new hires for the year out of their “new” box. They are asked to put on the entertainment at the Christmas party. You can bow out, but it is frowned upon. You can do whatever you want, and they won’t tell you what last year’s group did. I was mortified when I found out. But I participated anyway and that project is one of my favorite memories at my job. I developed camaraderie with the other “freshmen” of that year that otherwise would have been limited to the people in my department.
The point is that we cannot learn and grow as people unless we are pushed outside of our comfort zones. This includes difficult times in our life such as financial challenges, relationship problems, or anything that may not be going quite how we want it to. Right now I am at work when all I want is to be home with my baby. My husband is home with the baby and going crazy. I want nothing more than to trade places but it is financially impossible. We might both be more comfortable in the other’s place. But then how would we learn and grow?
I am learning to appreciate time with my child since it is limited now, and I am learning how to relate to my husband in a different dimension. Being home with my child the first three months taught me so much, and now my husband is getting a chance to learn all those magical mysteries a baby reveals to you, as well as how to be nurturing, patient, and self-motivated. Right now I still cry every morning that I can’t be with my son, but I know in my heart that God has given us each a great gift through our time and place in life that will help us grow into the people we need to be in order to best serve Him.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Meaning of Life
A few years ago, I solved the age-old question of the meaning of life – yes, life’s purpose! It just came to me one day as perfectly obvious. The purpose of life is to learn. We learn from our experiences, good and bad, and we learn from each other. I am only 29 and I have learned so much already, I can’t wait to see what I will learn in the next 29 years!
I am starting this blog because I want to share things I have learned from others, and things I have learned through my experiences. I am inspired to share my thoughts at this particular moment in time due mostly to the fact that this, my 29th year, has been filled with more lessons than the entire other 28 put together. What is different about this year? I had a baby.
WHAT I LEARNED FROM MY BABY - PART 1
He is a squirming mass of the most basic humanity – completely helpless and subconsciously selfish, pathetically dependent on his procreator for survival. Without my constant provision of food, warmth, comfort, and cleanliness, he would die. And though he cries now in desperation, he will learn to trust me completely as I consistently meet his needs. I am struck by the profoundness of my relationship with this child, my newborn son. As I fill the role of god to him, I gain new understanding of my God and his love for me.
This little epiphany of understanding began to take shape for me while I was pregnant and intensified when I brought my son home from the hospital. As pregnancy side effects like nausea took their toll and those dreaded labor pains loomed inevitably closer, I knew becoming a mother meant sacrifice. Then those first postpartum weeks were of grueling service to a helpless child. I overcame depression, resentment, and sleep deprivation to feed, change, comfort, and repeat every hour around the clock.
Nighttime feedings were the hardest. I sat in my rocker holding him at twelve, two, and four o’clock in the morning, every bone in my body screaming for sleep. I would start to doze while nursing him then fight to be awake, feeling guilty and afraid that he could suffocate on the pillow supporting my arm because he was too weak to lift his head. I ignored the impulse that I wanted him to suffocate. I questioned why I had chosen of my own free will to suffer so that a child could have life.
The scenario was familiar. I heard a story like this when I learned about Christianity and God’s choice to die so that I could enjoy eternal life. I know pregnancy and labor do not come close to God’s suffering on the cross (at least not with the epidural I was sure to let every doctor and nurse know I needed!), but the child’s helplessness certainly mirrors that of the human race. I marvel at the parallel of mother and God that goes beyond the miracle of creating life.
As a mother, I am compelled to care for my newborn son because he is helpless. Try as he might, he has no control over his world. When he is in need, all he can do is cry out in his distress. Since I consistently answer, he will learn that he can trust me to take care of him and his crying will evolve into conversation. The more he trusts me, the better I can understand and meet his needs.
Though we may not acknowledge it individually, humans as a species are like newborns. Our dirty diaper is the mess we have each made of our lives as well as the mess we have all made of our planet. Our food supply is vulnerable to the whim of nature, virtually out of our control. We live in fear of violence from one another. We lack comfort as we fail to love each other. As we stubbornly struggle to exist without our creator, we are starving, dying, and alone. We need saving by God just as newborns need saving by their mothers. God is always there waiting for our trust so He can meet our every need in an act of service born of love only God and mothers can give.
To love as God loves, trust God completely, and live a life of service to others are Christian teachings I strive to follow. Until I became a mother, I never experienced this level of love for another being, nor served another selflessly as I do this child. As he learns how to trust me, I learn how to trust God. The interesting thing about my relationship with my son is that the service came first, then the bond of love. I did not instantly feel overwhelming love for him – it took a good three months to feel butterflies when I look at him. I feel this is an important lesson of Christianity – God’s love begins by giving of self.
Funny thing is, I wanted to get pregnant in the first place because I thought I would be an important “meaning of life-type” learning experience. Boy, was I ever right. And then some.
I am starting this blog because I want to share things I have learned from others, and things I have learned through my experiences. I am inspired to share my thoughts at this particular moment in time due mostly to the fact that this, my 29th year, has been filled with more lessons than the entire other 28 put together. What is different about this year? I had a baby.
WHAT I LEARNED FROM MY BABY - PART 1
He is a squirming mass of the most basic humanity – completely helpless and subconsciously selfish, pathetically dependent on his procreator for survival. Without my constant provision of food, warmth, comfort, and cleanliness, he would die. And though he cries now in desperation, he will learn to trust me completely as I consistently meet his needs. I am struck by the profoundness of my relationship with this child, my newborn son. As I fill the role of god to him, I gain new understanding of my God and his love for me.
This little epiphany of understanding began to take shape for me while I was pregnant and intensified when I brought my son home from the hospital. As pregnancy side effects like nausea took their toll and those dreaded labor pains loomed inevitably closer, I knew becoming a mother meant sacrifice. Then those first postpartum weeks were of grueling service to a helpless child. I overcame depression, resentment, and sleep deprivation to feed, change, comfort, and repeat every hour around the clock.
Nighttime feedings were the hardest. I sat in my rocker holding him at twelve, two, and four o’clock in the morning, every bone in my body screaming for sleep. I would start to doze while nursing him then fight to be awake, feeling guilty and afraid that he could suffocate on the pillow supporting my arm because he was too weak to lift his head. I ignored the impulse that I wanted him to suffocate. I questioned why I had chosen of my own free will to suffer so that a child could have life.
The scenario was familiar. I heard a story like this when I learned about Christianity and God’s choice to die so that I could enjoy eternal life. I know pregnancy and labor do not come close to God’s suffering on the cross (at least not with the epidural I was sure to let every doctor and nurse know I needed!), but the child’s helplessness certainly mirrors that of the human race. I marvel at the parallel of mother and God that goes beyond the miracle of creating life.
As a mother, I am compelled to care for my newborn son because he is helpless. Try as he might, he has no control over his world. When he is in need, all he can do is cry out in his distress. Since I consistently answer, he will learn that he can trust me to take care of him and his crying will evolve into conversation. The more he trusts me, the better I can understand and meet his needs.
Though we may not acknowledge it individually, humans as a species are like newborns. Our dirty diaper is the mess we have each made of our lives as well as the mess we have all made of our planet. Our food supply is vulnerable to the whim of nature, virtually out of our control. We live in fear of violence from one another. We lack comfort as we fail to love each other. As we stubbornly struggle to exist without our creator, we are starving, dying, and alone. We need saving by God just as newborns need saving by their mothers. God is always there waiting for our trust so He can meet our every need in an act of service born of love only God and mothers can give.
To love as God loves, trust God completely, and live a life of service to others are Christian teachings I strive to follow. Until I became a mother, I never experienced this level of love for another being, nor served another selflessly as I do this child. As he learns how to trust me, I learn how to trust God. The interesting thing about my relationship with my son is that the service came first, then the bond of love. I did not instantly feel overwhelming love for him – it took a good three months to feel butterflies when I look at him. I feel this is an important lesson of Christianity – God’s love begins by giving of self.
Funny thing is, I wanted to get pregnant in the first place because I thought I would be an important “meaning of life-type” learning experience. Boy, was I ever right. And then some.
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