After Charlie died, and I was working on Finding My Reflection, I realized that, amongst the deep well of grief at his loss, was the realization that I was suffering from a loss of identity. I spent the majority of those early days trying desperately to figure out who I was, or who I WOULD be in this new phase of life after being half…(the better half 😉…jk) of our whole for over twenty-two years.
We were so young when we married and so much of who “I” was…well, was because of who “WE” were together. I don’t know that either of us ever had a chance to fully question, explore, or challenge ourselves to develop our own individual identities.
Recognizing that fact was a frightening concept to face. It’s taken quite a bit of time, but I am finally able to fully embrace it as an opportunity to treasure rather than fear. It is an opportunity to grow.
People sometimes tell me that I’m brave. I don’t see myself as brave. It’s just that ALS changed my perspective on fear. I spent three years living with the specter of death and three years living in its shadow. That has the tendency to change a person.
In “Me and Bobby McGee” Janis Joplin sings, “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose…”
I identify with that lyric. Strongly.
My whole world shifted when I lost Charlie and I felt like I was starting all over at square one. When you’re at square one, you have little left to lose.
I found myself chasing after identity.
I looked for it in career. Surely, once I start working, rebuilding my career, my sense of identity will manifest, and I would know I’d found myself.
I jumped into my law practice, not giving myself the mental space to process and grieve properly. I found myself unfulfilled and unwilling to commit to the lifestyle that would entail.
I went back into teaching, having missed connection with community and desiring a calling built on forming relationships, still writing, but still feeling so lost and adrift.
I looked for it in service. I volunteered where I could, participated when able, and gave what I had. I connected and shared as much as possible…yet, I was empty.
I looked for it in crusading. I threw myself into fighting ALS, actively searching for ways to obliterate the monster that wrecked my life, my family, my heart. It gave me an outlet. And it set me on a path.
Somehow, in the midst of all the angst, a break in the clouds revealed some clarity that somehow led me to Maine.
Relocating meant starting from square one once again, but this time, I was stronger, and I started my approach differently.
Instead of trying to figure out how everything I could/would/should DO defined me, I started looking at the inside, trying to define who I already was. I conducted a self-inventory. I assessed my strengths, listed my weaknesses, took note of my failings and what I hoped to improve.
I prayed more mindfully, studied more discerningly, and started to appreciate the value in living a life to be a good Christian ambassador…instead of wanting to live a good life. I started to want to BE the amazing creature God designed me to be, instead of feeling like I have to DO something, in order to BE something. Only then was I able to start applying what I was learning to how it means I fit into the world beyond myself.
Don’t get me wrong, I would really appreciate it if the Lord suddenly appeared to me in a burning bush and said, “Look kid, this is what I want you to do…” And I could respond with, “I’m on it. One Red Sea parted, coming up!”
Alas, I am not Moses leading not one single person to the Promise Land. Instead, I’m a middle-aged widow, who loves Jesus, but cusses a little. And I’m embracing the fact that I still have SO much left to learn and hoping there’s still a good bit of time left for me to learn it.
I am finding the opportunity to redefine myself at this stage in life unexpectedly liberating.
Most recently, I’ve started to read Atomic Habits by James Clear. Not for any particular reason other than my running coach gave it to me and said, “Read it.” Strangely enough, it aligns with where I am on multiple levels. And it’s especially crazy how relative it seems to be in light of what I’m seeing with regard to race relations and when thinking about our country as an evolving amalgamation, instead of a rigid structure that’s been built to perfection and has no room or reason to be modified.
I am not very far into the book at ALL, but here are some things that popped out at me –
- “Your identity emerges out of your habits. You are not born with preset beliefs. Every belief, including those about yourself, is learned and conditioned through experience.”
- “Progress requires unlearning. Becoming the best version of yourself requires you to continuously edit your beliefs, and to upgrade and expand your identity.”
- “Once you have adopted an identity, it can be easy to let your allegiance to it impact your ability to change.”
- “It can feel comfortable to believe what your culture believes…even if it’s wrong.”
- “Once your pride gets involved, you’ll fight tooth and nail to maintain your habits.”
- “It’s hard to change your habits if you never change the underlying beliefs that led to your past behavior.”
I was taught to be a Proud Southerner, to look down on Northerners with contempt, to take pride in symbols of Southern superiority, and that the Civil War was not really about slavery.
I think, when Charlie got sick, it stripped away a lot of the noise and static that we had a habit of creating around ourselves. Once circumstances forced me to “be still, and listen” – the silence around me revealed some of the loudest ‘truths.’
Life is a gift. Love is what matters. Relationships are important. Living means remembering to be mindful of today’s joy, not just planning for tomorrow’s happiness. You don’t take anything with you when you die.
The quote from the book I’m reading that resonated the most with me today in light of all I’ve been through, in light of the search for identity, in light of learning what it means to redefine myself based on how I interpret Biblical truths versus all I’ve ever been taught by others, by society, by the world?
“Progress requires unlearning. Becoming the best version of yourself requires you to continuously edit your beliefs, and to upgrade and expand your identity.”
I am so glad that I was born in America. I am glad that I was born into a country that created the governing law with enough foresight, and responsibility to know that it would have a need to change, to grow, and evolve…and have the ability to do so.
I can love my country and yet concede that terrible atrocities occurred in the making of it…that much of what led to its formation was not done in the name of all that is right and holy…that certain leaders and events were falsely glorified to inspire pride, instill loyalty, in order to foster unity and allegiance. I can have a desire to acknowledge the truth, quit sweeping the true accounting under the rug, not because of feelings of shame and responsibilities of my ancestors, but because of a personal feeling of responsibility as a present day citizen to make the declarations our founding fathers made – be actually attainable, and not just applicable, for ALL citizens.
Because of this, the physical symbols from the days of old hold little meaning to me. I can appreciate that they are a piece of history, and as such, deserve to be preserved to teach an accurate accounting of the past. But why should they hold a place of prominence in the public eye, especially when they serve as reminders of oppression and hatred to so many of our fellow citizens?
In a culture that is constantly updating its phones, its homes, its sports facilities, its computers, its fads, its music, its architecture…how is updating the depictions of our historical events so different? Why can we not approach these choices of our past with the same chagrin with which we approach fashion? “Ugh. Remember when we thought shoulder pads were a good fashion choice? What were we thinking?!” or “Whoever invented bell bottom jeans, obviously never rode a bike…”
Tastes change. Times change. Aside from good manners, few things stand the test of time. Our society is capricious, whimsical, and constantly reinventing itself in almost every way imaginable. How is saying, “out with the old, in with the new” with regard to public displays of historical figures so very different?
Much of my present development of identity stems from My View from the Pew.
When I stand before my Maker, and He asks if I was a good human to my fellow man, I want to be able to answer yes. Yes, I was. When He asks if I did my best to live out the tenants of my faith, I want to be able to answer yes. Yes, I did. When He asks if I did so because I felt I had to in order to get into heaven, or because I knew in my heart it was the right thing to do which made it all the more desirable, I want to be able to say – I did it with all the joy in my heart.
Because of that joy, I can feel hope, and excitement, that we have the ability to redefine our identity as a country to represent ALL of our citizens. We stand at the precipice to be the generation who had the courage, the commitment, and the enlightenment to make the necessary changes our country needs to make with pride, if only we have the confidence to let go of the past. Letting go doesn’t mean it’s forgotten…or that we intend to forget it. It just means, we’re not going to let it hold us back or prevent us from moving forward.
Lately, I have found myself feeling frustrated with the “I refuse to be afraid” crowd. Especially when someone throws out a Biblical passage at me that says, “do not be afraid” as a defense of their reason for refusing to wear a mask during a time of widely experienced, documented, not to mention, scientifically proven, world heath crisis.
Because that’s B.S. and I’m calling B.S.
I wear a mask when I’m inside a public place (or anywhere a mask is mandated), not because I’m afraid of getting sick, but because I have a care for my fellow beings that I might unknowingly infect a more vulnerable person if I have contracted the virus, but be asymptomatic. It is a responsible and socially conscious decision to make.
So far, the same people who use that argument, are interpreting any mandate by the government to wear a mask in certain places at certain times as an infringement upon their personal right to liberty. And they are angry.
That begs the question…why? Why are you angry? Have you asked yourself that question?
If you take a minute to really examine your anger, I think you will find you are angry because you are afraid.
You feel an aspect of your personal freedom is being threatened, and that scares you. But what that means, is that you are allowing your fear regarding your own individual liberty to rule your decision about wearing a mask rather than any concern about your fellow man.
So, it doesn’t make sense to come at me with any more Bible verses about “not being afraid” to defend your anti-masker stance. Not unless you are also willing to get rid of the guns you hoard for “defense,” disable the smoke detectors in your home, quit running from bees, quit killing poisonous snakes, stop wearing your seat belt, stop using life preservers, stop strapping your kids into car seats, stop locking your doors, stop throwing out old food because it’s past the expiration date, delete all the apps that warn you about tornadoes and flooding, stop taking life-saving medicines, stop getting any and all vaccines, and for the sake of all that’s holy, stop forwarding conspiracy theories whose very purpose is to inflame fear through the use of theatricality and logical fallacies. And please, read Leviticus. There are a lot of rules about hand washing, quarantine, and preventing the spread of disease in that chapter.
We are experiencing three major events in our country right now, each of them having their own special set of circumstances, but each one meaning change. And change is scary, even when it’s a welcome or necessary one. We are experiencing a pandemic that is devastating on a personal and economic level, undergoing a major shift in our social paradigm, and all of that in a presidential election year. It is not surprising that so many are afraid, angry, and feel the world is out of control.
But what if we start asking ourselves, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
Each one of us will have a different answer to that question based on our personal desires and fears. I don’t know if the answer to this question will inspire more fear in you, or if it will have the effect of calming it.
As for me, I already know what it feels like to have my whole world come crashing down. It was devastating and it was the worst emotional pain imaginable…and I survived. I kept going. I keep going. I choose to keep living, continuously seeking to evolve into a better version of myself, striving on building an identity from within, rather than being defined by all that is from without. When I look at the above question as realistically and rationally as possible, I keep coming back to the same answer – Things will change. And I’ve already proven I can survive change.
If we don’t change, we don’t grow.
If we don’t grow, we aren’t really living.
– Gail Sheehy
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