When Thomas Merton was asked what he thought the leading
spiritual disease of our time was, he thought for a moment, and then answered, “Efficiency”.
Most of us are juggling 527 things to accomplish each and every day, and
being as efficient as possible is the nirvana we seek. So, we carefully plan
trips to the grocery store, so that I will also have time to fuel up the car,
drop off a movie, and then meet a friend for dinner by 7. Every event on our
calendar is a challenge to link as many other events together as possible, so
as to be “efficient” and knock out even more things on our list. The problem
comes when we realize that efficiency doesn’t always equate to pleasure. I can get pick up the prescription, swing by the
farmer’s market, make small group in time, and not enjoy a single one of
them. God did not create me for
efficiency. He just does not need me to get it all done. I truly believe that it is
about process with God. He wants me to engage life, but with Him instead of for
Him. He wants me to feel the pleasure of tackling things on my list, not not strain compulsively as I grasp for the next three things after that. Efficiency
without enjoyment is not life’s purpose.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
The Drive to Perform
My drive to define myself by my performance seems
insatiable. I know that this isn’t the way I was created to operate. I know
that I am more than what I do. I know that it’s dangerous to place something as
important as my self-worth in something as fragile and unpredictable as
performance. I know that if I were perfect today, parented perfectly, counseled
clients perfectly, related to friends perfectly, drove perfectly, and set a new
personal best on my run, that I would feel great tonight, but would wake up
tomorrow morning with the burden of perfection smothering me all over again. It
never stops. It’s never enough. Maybe you can relate. My big question is this:
if I know all of this, then why do I so compulsively perform at times? Why do
failures cause me to doubt myself at such deep levels? My only chance to break
the addictive pull of performing for worth is to deliberately, intentionally
not perform, and then face the discomfort that it brings. To be completely
clear: the only way for me or you to break out of our performance trap is to deliberately
choose to not perform. To put it another way, I have to choose at times to
fail, to leave things undone. I have to fail, and then fight to embrace the
truth that I’m not a failure. I have to leave things undone, and know that I’m
not lazy. The failing may come through choosing things to engage in that I don’t
have much experience in or that I’m not particularly good at, but have always
wanted to try. It may come from attempting the near impossible, whatever that
might be. Knowledge in my head does not lead
to change, experiences lived out in the minutes of my days will. It’s not enough
to know truth, it has to hit me in the face, and then somehow become my
friend. Any thoughts…….
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