One Order of Connection - Hold the Approval

Last Sunday I gave the sermon at my church - the Unitarian Universalist Church of Greater Lansing. This is something I do a few times a year. I enjoy it. I enjoy finding inspiration from something I've read or heard, conceiving a general theme, and letting it percolate in my head and heart for a while. Actually committing something to paper is a bit more of a struggle, but I enjoy that, too.

What thrills me most, though, is finally standing up on a Sunday morning and sharing with others something true about my journey. Last week I spent a lot of time exploring notions of "God" and "God's will." I wasn't sure how it would go. In a UU church bringing up the "G-word" can sometimes be like eating a Double Whopper at a Weight Watcher's meeting - even those who secretly long for it are pretty sure they shouldn't. So I was pleasantly surprised by the reaction of our congregation to my message.

I realized last Sunday that much of what I like to do for fun (act, speak, write, cook) involves doing or producing something that will be shared by others. Naturally, I want others to enjoy what I do or produce - that's a big part of why I do it. But I wonder sometimes if there is a little, lonely part of me that just wants approval. "Great job, Brad!" "Wow, this tastes great." "How did you learn all those lines?" "Where do you come up with these ideas?" Because I am a person, and not a machine or a mathematical formula, I'm sure that the need for approval is there at some level. Maybe someday I can live without being buoyed by the positive approval of others or crushed by their disapproval, if only I work hard enough to shed "attachments" that I've fine tuned for more than 50 years. Or maybe that is for another lifetime.

In the meanwhile, I realized this. What actually floats my boat is to be connected to others, really connected. I'm talking about "I can feel the energy flow between us" kind of connected. When I act in front of an audience or speak to a group, and it is going well, there is a connection and an energy exchange that is palpable and wonderful. The same is true during the "communion" shared by friends or family and me sitting around a table and enjoying food I have prepared. Far from being the psychological roadblock that a need for approval is, the creation and enjoyment of this connection with others feels totally aligned with my mission, my essence, my reason for being. No wonder I feel alive when I spend time on certain activities and dead when I spend time on others. On a soul level this "living-dying" dichotomy is true.

The key, I think, is to give up the need to receive validation of one mask or another from others and cultivate a way of living that garners recognition of true self from others. As hard as it is for plain old middle-America Brad to do this, how much harder it must be for celebrities to do it. How easy it must be for them to succumb to all the addictive idolatry thrown their way. Often stuck on a sound stage or recording studio or captured by paparazzi every minute of the day, how hard it must be for them to find moments of true connection with others. When I think of the death of Michael Jackson yesterday, for causes yet to be determined as I write this post, I am struck by the tremendous burdens of celebrity that he bore and grateful for the daily opportunities I am given to be real and connected.

I'm doing my "God's will" (Double Whopper) sermon at another UU church tomorrow. As I approach the podium I plan to place my order with God (or whatever spiritual short order cook the universe has to offer) as follows: "One order of connection, please, and hold the approval. Oh, and super-size that."

Here Comes the Judge

Unenlightened as I am, it is presumptuous of me to say why I am unenlightened.  But here's the thing: I judge others all the time.  It is a reflex, like breathing or blinking or salivating at the thought of sipping a full, round, meaty Zinfandel.  (I just squirted a little when I wrote that.) Whether my judgment impulse is a symptom or a cause of my lack of enlightenment makes little difference.  There it sits, like an angry zit on the otherwise smooth surface of my equanimity.  So I, in turn,  judge myself to be flawed and do my best to bear the shame of sitting in judgment of other flawed souls.  And on and on it goes.

I tend to judge people harshly based on three primary criteria:

• Do they fail to act ethically and with integrity?
• Do they fail to act with compassion and consideration for others?
• Do they fail to make wise choices regarding their own health and well-being and/or the health and well-being of those dependent on them?

When I cast around to find excuses for my inner judge I sometimes discover slight comfort in the notion that I'm only wanting people to act in a way that is best for themselves, for others,  and for the world.  Surely if we were to close our eyes and dream of utopia, we would see a lush, green world, with clear, unpolluted blue skies and seas, peopled with enlightened, healthy inhabitants who treat each other with respect and care, who keep their words, who share their wealth, who eat and drink and live in moderation (except for their consumption of full, round, meaty Zinfandels which have been found to be the elixir of life when consumed in large quantities) and who get at least least 30 minutes of aerobic exercise at least five times a week.  Oh, and there would be no more "realty TV" - in part because such programming has no place in utopia, but in large measure because such abusive mislabeling and tortured linguistics will no longer be tolerated.

So here is the real question that I need to ask myself:  when I judge others, what does it say about myself?  I don't always like the answer.  When I judge the lack of consideration of the person who parks across the line and crowds me, who talks in a loud voice behind me in the movie theater, who speeds up to run lights that are clearly red so as not to be inconvenienced by a short wait, and so on, I have to examine that darker part of myself that wants to live only for myself.  When I judge corporate muckrakers who are greedy and unethical, who prosper at the expense of others, and who make decisions without regard to the ecology or the public weal, I have to look at that part of myself that doesn't trust the abundance of the universe and wishes I could only take and not give.  When I see others smoke and drink and eat junk food and empty calories to excess, I have to look at my own past or current relationships with tobacco, alcohol and food and my tendency, from time to time, to have abused each.  In almost every instance, when I judge someone else I do it because it's easier to judge them than to acknowledge my own shadows and demons, to "honor" their presence in me without acting them out.

On three occasions in my life I have had "peak experiences" and have been in "transcendent states."  Interestingly, my experiences did not occur in nature (as they do for many people) but when I was by myself in a place with a lot of other people present.  Once it happened when I observed people dancing on the dance floor of a St. Louis hotel bar during happy hour.  The second time it happened was in Hart Plaza in Detroit when, after a business meeting, I wandered over to the early hours of the "Hoedown in Motown" and watched people from all walks of life dancing to country music.  The third time came in Chicago, walking along the bustling streets, after watching a movie (Woody Allen's, "The Curse of the Jade Scorpion" - hardly a likely springboard for transcendence.)  During each experience, I went into a state where time stopped, where I felt an energy flowing through me that was a near part of all those around me and those elsewhere, where everyone I saw was beautiful just as he and she was, where I felt calm, peaceful, and happy, and where my inner judge - that miserable bastard - shut up.  In Chicago I walked up and down the streets for about 15 minutes in utter bliss, floating along, loving everyone I saw and smiling at the shock I saw in their faces when they looked in my eyes and saw something they could not understand.

The problem with having a peak experience is, of course, returning to the valley.  What a letdown.  And yet, what is there to do but to keep on living and learning?  So while I continue to judge as a reflex, I know in that deeper part of myself that judgment of others is not a reflex that I need to stay alive, but rather one that keeps me from being fully alive.  (At least that's my judgment and I'm sticking to it.)