Life is meant to be shared.
It’s like a cafe mocha. I could drink it sugar-free, with no whipped cream and skim milk. This would save me the inconvenience of the physical discipline of exercise, and the spiritual discipline of being conscientious about my diet so that I can fit in my cafe mocha. But, in my opinion, a sugar-free mocha is not a mocha at all: I’d be better off drinking black coffee and milk. No decadence, no intimacy, no indulgence: only asceticism and austerity.
This is how life is. Especially one’s inner life. It is possible to not share. As a matter of fact, I’ve found it often convenient not to need to depend on anyone else for emotional and spiritual counsel. This way, I don’t need to strengthen the skills of discernment, prayer, and exhortation often needed when strongly interdependent on others. Plus, it’s neat and compartmentalized. But if I live this type of life, I am finding that I increasingly limit myself to small victories or small influence in the areas I care about most.
As a matter of fact, life is better shared.
Such a simple statement but a truth that I have not always successfully practiced. This is why I referred earlier to the inner life. It is the mind and heart that direct our lives and decisions. In addition, I must admit that I want others to join with me in my ambitions. I want to know that what I do matters to my friends and family. I want to help them make their goals become reality. But more than all that, I want to be known by them.
Being known in any meaningful way, in any arena of our lives, requires sacrifices and disciplines that are painful or tedious at best. It’s like ordering the cafe mocha with whipped cream, then having to make sure you take your half hour run (walk) during lunch. I am still so concerned that others may not think my thoughts were important. I always felt that sharing things about my life with others was an imposition on their privacy. I didn’t want to come off as pushy. Or maybe it was fear of making myself vulnerable to others.
Actually, I think that last sentence is the best explanation. I think that a fear of vulnerability and a fear of others’ perceptions has lead to much distance between myself and those who I find myself in relationship with. I’m not sure what this looks like in others, but for me it looks like: not returning or answering my phone if I know a hard conversation is imminent; not asking others for the help I need early enough to actually receive it; not communicating with family and friends because the conversation or interactions may be awkward or uncomfortable. This has led to avoidance, distance, neglect, and then outright contempt. As this progression of emotions continues, it ultimately ends up in hiding “at the surface”.
While running alone has ironically made me think more deeply about these troublesome things, I also have extended periods of time to reflect on the hope God has given me through my wife, Lucine. My wife has a very strong personality, and her optimism has never been crushed. She is very open in her inner life with others, because her openness and ability to connect with others has never been suppressed. Before we met, I would never have chosen to spend considerable time with folks of her personality type because they always place me out of my comfort zone. But I have always found my life with her, from the very first time we spoke, immensely freeing and refreshing. She is my cafe mocha. (probably from Swing’s) With whipped cream, Italian syrup, and whole milk. Decadent and intense in every good way.
I don’t mind the continual relational effort she demands, because she is the first person I can say knows me. It is not enough for my wife that I am known by her, but she also requires that I make the requisite efforts to be known by others. My wife doesn’t accept being excluded from my inner life. But she also doesn’t accept that I don’t make an effort to move beyond the difficult thoughts or feelings I have for others, whether fear, acrimony, contempt, or antipathy, or shame, and do what it takes to be known in the appropriate ways. I’m thankful that she knows when I’m hiding from her or others inside my thoughts. This is important because she is able to draw out insights about myself that I would not otherwise have the resources to discover.
But I think the most important thing God does through her is show that it’s safe to make yourself known in God’s world. That we must accept the risks because it’s the only way to have life indeed. Because the only way to drink a mocha is with whipped cream.