Unbearably Me…

I have character flaws, it’s part of my humanity, part of the whole that shapes who I am.

I’m sitting in a Starbucks writing this, while at home my wife is hosting a party for a baby baptism of a friend. It’s been a busy day, I was up early to kick off a project for the office, I worked out, then I was in the office doing testing and managing the project. The work that my team did today was successful, it’s a big relief, but when I called home to see what was going on, I found that a group of people who I have no emotional connection to are at my home celebrating.

The party was my wife’s idea, and I’ve supported her efforts, but now that the day has arrived, I find old habits rearing their ugly head. I have no desire to entertain people I don’t know, and one that my wife and I share a friendship with. I also don’t want to spoil their celebration, it’s a worthy thing to be celebrating. But I’m 50 years old, and I’ve been down this road many many times before, and the minute I show up, I will be forced into what they are doing. And because my wife’s friend knows us both will be hurt if I don’t make a showing of being happy she’s there.

Truth be told, there is so much drama in my life, that I really don’t want to get involved in yet another families drama. I wish them well, I just don’t have the emotional strength to be part of a mess, that in my view they created for themselves.

Hard, unfair maybe, but very true.

I sometimes wish I was different, that I could be like others and be more open, but I am at my very core a private man, who has certain places that I consider to be sacred. My rocking chair next to the window and the TV is one of those, like the altar we keep on the upstairs landing, it’s my go to spot when I need to decompress. And the only people I share it with are those who I have let into inner reaches of my heart.

In the parish that we attend the Priests wife has battled cancer and is now cancer free, but when we joined the parish, I had to ask myself if I really had the emotional depth to deal with that situation if God forbid it took a dark turn. It tool me a long time to come to grips with the whole picture, and today she is like a long lost sister. But I feel ashamed that I was so cold and calculating in deciding if I was ready to deal with the situation before we joined the parish.

I’m never sure if I should apologize for who I am, or just be content being me. It’s a question I’ve never been able to answer, I’m socially awkward at times, and sometimes I shame myself. But it’s part of my makeup, and I’m not sure I can ever change it, or if it even makes sense to change it.

One of the most beautiful things I found in Orthodoxy was that we each are on our own journey, and there is no judgement if I’m not ready to accept some parts of the faith. Last night talking to Fr. Mark we talked about the final leg of the fast, I joked that the Orthodox take fasting and lent and at the very end crank the knobs to 12. He said some of the faithful will even not eat for the final two days, to which I quizzed him on how many parish members became crashers during the final service. I meant it partly in humor and partly because I get fasting, but at this point of my walk, I don’t ‘get’ making myself suffer that much to celebrate lent (well is it a celebration then).

So there’s part of it, the flaws in the man. The parts of me that I don’t share very often.

God Forgive Me, A Sinner.

-Paul-