You Taught Me How to Love You

I knew a therapist who composed a song with this title in reference to his own therapist. This song reflected how his therapist had, indeed, taught him how to love. Recently, I had an experience with a patient that reminded me of a person who served as a therapist for me albeit in a somewhat informal way. This person was Dr. Vernon Grounds, a professor of pastoral care and the president of Denver Seminary where I was finishing my last year of seminary before I went to graduate school. The academic year was 1968-1969, which might stir some memories of this important time of life in America with assassinations, the Viet Nam war, protests against the war, and the sexual revolution. It was an important time for me because I was coming to a formulation of what I believed about life, God, people, and myself, a project that has continued over these ensuing 50 years. I had thought to some degree about these important matters somewhat during my previous 25 years but nothing like I did during this year. It was a year of great learning, great thought, and sorrow. For some reason Dr. Grounds invited me to breakfast one morning, which then turned out to be a regular invitation that he made for me for the entire academic year. These many breakfast meetings always had the aforementioned elements in our discussion: life, God, people, and me. I consider these hours as ones of personal therapy although I didn’t realize that at the time. Dr. Grounds remains the kindest, most intelligent, most integrated, and most deeply spiritual person I have ever had the opportunity to know although I have also had the opportunity of known many other significant figures who have been instructive in my life. These would include other therapists, professors, religious leaders, relatives, and friends, but none has touched my soul as did Dr. Grounds. Having recently been reminded of the song written by someone I knew many years ago, “You Taught Me How to Love You,” I realized that Dr. Grounds did just that: he taught me how to love him, and in so doing, he taught me how to love. I offer the following humble words with deep appreciation:

He taught me how to love him.

He taught me about God

He taught me about people

He taught me about life

He taught me about myself

 

He taught me how to think,

He taught me how to feel.

He taught me how to speak.

He taught me how to love.

 

He taught me these things with the purest of love for me.

He loved me so perfectly that he didn’t have to say it.

All I noticed when we parted was that was somehow different.

The difference? I was loved

I didn’t deserve it. I couldn’t pay it back. But I needed it.

 

He taught me how to love him “because he loved me first.”

 

 

We therapists have a tremendous privilege, something that is often in my mind and frequently something I say when I am with a patient. The privilege of people’s stories, their thoughts, their actions, and most importantly, their feelings—this is a very special opportunity for all of us in this odd trade, which is composed of mostly listening and then a measured response. How many times have I heard, “Well, I’ve never told anyone this….” And the things that they have never told anyone are not largely those of facts or actions, but of feelings…”feelings,” that undefined central experience of being human. I hear feelings in the form of silence and chatter, of pain and pleasure, and of thought and action. But when I hear these real feelings, often something the person has just discovered, felt, and said, I am moved. I am privileged. These many hours of therapy—but not all—are ones where I have the privilege of loving someone in a special way because I have heard, seen, and felt the person’s feelings.

It has occurred to me, much due to a recent therapeutic hour that I had with someone that I have also had the privilege of enlivening a person’s own capacity to love. This most recent encounter was with someone who said, “I love you Ron” and then quickly added, “No, it is more than that. I love you so much.” What a privilege to be loved by someone, a love that I don’t deserve, can’t pay back, but something that I need. Yes, need. I don’t need to be loved by a specific person, a mistake that many people make, but I do need to be loved. It is always humbling. It is always special. It is always godly. And I never expect it.

I leave you with this thought for your consideration: who has taught you how to love? Whom did you find yourself loving because he/she first loved you?

It’s The War

Deb and I really enjoy Masterpiece Theater, which comes on PBS pretty regularly. Actually, we don’t watch any other channels aside from the three PBS channels we get over the air. We’ve had “air only” TV forever. Occasionally, however, when we happen to be in a motel where there are 600 cable channels, we waste a few minutes channel flipping only to find nothing that suits our fancy and immediately note how intolerable commercials are for us to watch. The Masterpiece mysteries are generally a mix of one or more unsolved murders, usually a predominant police inspector, a subordinate police officer, and several intertwining stories, some of which are red herrings. One of the things we like about the mysteries, as well as much of BBC television is that the characters are all flawed in some way: maybe grumpy (Lewis), alcoholic (Tennison) theologically questioning (Hathaway), or some other minor or major malady. So, they all appear to be quite “human” with these warts of life. One of our favorite mysteries is Foyle’s War, which has the main inspector as a wonderfully introverted thinking man assisted by an equally wonderfully extraverted feeling woman. Foyle’s War is set in southern England throughout the six years of World War II. Among the interesting things about this series, as is true with most Masterpiece mysteries, is that Inspector Foyle is often presented with dilemmas that have legal, ethical, moral, and personal implications, all within the context of the war that goes on in the background. So, it’s not possible for Foyle to simply go about doing police work without frequently encountering challenges that have more to do with the war than with local crime. In general then, we have someone trying heartily to settle criminal matters faithful to the laws of England while being in a situation of war, which by its very nature could be conceived as “criminal,” namely killing people. An interesting expression that Foyle’s assistant (Sam = Samantha) says when they encounter one of these dilemmas is, “It’s the War.” So, “It’s the War” means that things are not so clean and clear when there is a war going on. Foyle’s son, who is a pilot in the Royal Air Force and Sam are an item for a while but then he finds another woman and writes Sam a “Dear John” letter. Sam’s response was, “It’s the War,” as she frequently says when other dilemmas occur, like the military protecting a Nazi war criminal because he is “useful” for information about the Nazi machine. Now what does “It’s the War” have to do with things psychological? Lots.

Our current “war”

We’re in a “war” as we speak. The current war is three-fold: biological, political, and cultural. Specifically, the war against the Covid virus, the war against perceived dangerous political forces, and the war against cultural forces. I don’t have to elaborate on the nature of this current manifold war but to note that this war affects us every day, for many of us, daily, and for many of us hourly. There is never a newspaper nor a new broadcast that doesn’t include comments on one or more of these three elements of this “war.” We are deluged with information, mostly on the negative side of things, with these three elements, e.g. the virus is spreading, the Black Lives protests turn violent, or some hateful comment about President Trump or former Vice President Biden. “It’s a war” has the right ring to it as I try to compare what it might have been like for mothers and fathers of fighting men and women in World War II, or in any other war for that matter, to think that their children, husbands, brothers and sisters, sons, and daughters might be killed on any day. What must it have been like to hear stories daily of bombings and other dangerous activities that were going on during those terrible days of 1939-1945. I can only imagine. My proposition is that the “war” we are currently in is much the same as this previous war mostly because of the daily/hourly reports of one or more of the elements of this war. Consider what effect this deluge of information, almost always dangerous and otherwise difficult to hear, has on us. I content that we need to be cognizant of the war that is currently going on as we deal with the day-to-day events, stresses, opportunities, and disappointments that occur to all of us in one day. My contention is that we need to consider that the “war” affects how we think, how we feel, and what we do as we encounter or otherwise normal daily events, choices, and dilemmas because when there is a war, “all bets are off” and “nothing is the way it used to be”. Hard enough to think about doing the right thing, feel about doing the right thing, and then doing the right thing when we can think, feel, and act somewhat clearly. No so in a war.

Engaging daily events, decisions, and actions when you’re in a war

Simply stated, you cannot go about business as you have been doing before the war. You cannot think, feel, or act as you have felt, thought, and acted before the war because the war is always with you and affects all thoughts, feelings, and actions. Most importantly, you need to take great caution with the “acting” part of that threesome more than the thinking and feeling. Yet, it is also important to note that much of your time will be spent in the “feeling” part, and then this feeling part will drift into your “thinking.” Let me explain:

  • Let’s say that you and your life’s partner are not doing well, and maybe you have been in therapy with someone, maybe me, who has been working on such things as personality structure, gender differences, communication, and the whole matter of feeling as I do with most everyone I see. Previous to the war, you and I could perhaps discuss the differences you and your partner have in personality and gender. Maybe we’ve made some progress in communication, like maybe she’s an “analyst” and you are a “lover” in temperament. Now, however, you two are dealing with one or more elements of the war:
    • She thinks you should wear a mask all the time; you disagree
    • She is a Trump lover and you are most certainly not
    • You tend to value the cultural challenges that are occurring in America; she thinks that protests are all riots.
    • So it is hard for you two to deal with other things in your life together and your lives separately because of the war intruding on almost every aspect of your life
  • Or, you may be that individual who came to see someone, like me perhaps, because you wanted to get over your life-long tendency to be angry. You are a businessman but also someone who wants to make some social impact on the world but:
    • Your kids are being inundated by “liberal” education like when you seventh grader and her classmates were asked “what pronoun do you prefer in reference to yourself.” You think this is premature and perhaps harmful.
    • You would really like to hire some people in great need and thought about contacting some agency that deals with Blacks who are out of work. You think that you could offer some good wages. But you are afraid of what you might get and trouble you might have because you have never had a Black work for you
    • You find yourself angry at the protests-turn-riots and don’t know how to consider hiring Blacks who might riot on your property
    • You have never been afraid to walk the streets, but now you are
  • Or, maybe you’re a pastor who came to see someone, maybe like me, because you were looking to improve in your self-understanding and serve your congregation better, but now:
    • You admit to be left-of-center…maybe pretty far left…but also have some good people in your congregation who are quite different
    • You want to make your church more effective in all ways but can’t have regular in-house meetings
    • You have a lot of time on your hands, something that you have always wanted, but now it feels a bit “lazy” not to be doing your normal pastoral duties like visiting nursing homes and the like
    • You also might, say, have three young children who demand a kind of 24/7 attention and you certainly want to protect them from Covid.
  • Or, maybe, you’re just a guy who wants to have fun in life, like going swimming in a pool, going to a concert, or going out to dinner, all of which have significant restrictions and challenges

So, how do you manage your life that is now in the midst of a war when you have things that used to be the most important things in your life, like work, children, play, and eating, when it seems things like biological agents, political agents, and cultural agents are always in your face?

Facing life’s challenges in a war

  1. Remember that “It’s the war.” Just remember the “war” part of this, not necessarily the cultural, political, and biological elements. This means that the “war” is always in the background, always present in your thoughts and feelings, always going on whether you remember it or not.
  2. This remembering that the war is going on does not really mean that “all bets are off.” You can still think, emote, and act being responsible to all these representations of how you feel, noting that “feeling” includes how you feel physically, emotionally, cognitively, and actively. You have to feel as clearly as you can despite the fact that the war is always in the background, you have to think clearly, and feel emotionally, and eventually do some things. The “war” is not an excuse for irresponsibility.
  3. Giving “the war” due diligence means that you acknowledge that there is always a certain unnatural flavor to what you feel, think, and do. Allowing this “bad flavor” is akin to allowing you to eat some peas that have had a bit too much salt in their cooking. You get used to think and feel with this bad flavor, the war won’t be the predominant factor in your deciding on a courses of action. You eat the peas despite the undue salt.
  4. Admit to you colleagues, friends, and intimates the obvious: It’s the war. Once you do that, you will take the larger part of the war out of what you actually decide to do. Tell other people that “it’s the war” and explain the perspective. I have been surprised at the number of people who have profited from this perspective.
  5. Be aware of everyone around you also being in “the war” and give them a wide berth of their thoughts and statements, if not perhaps all of their actions. Let them shoot their mouths off about Trump or whatever. It’s the war does not mean you have to let go of kindness and compassion for people in distress…which is everyone.
  6. Know that anything you do may be done because of the war. Some things just have to be done, like breathing, eating, playing, working, and voting. You may not do these things with the best of spirit or even the best of thought, but you must do these things. Like breathing: this is the first thing that stops when you are afraid, like when you are startled: you stop breathing. Mindfulness and the like can be very useful during times of stress when you feel a lot, think a lot, and don’t know what to do. Breathe more deeply.
  7. Remember the war will be over. My best guess is a year from now, but I have no better idea than anyone else and certainly less than true scientists. The 30 Years War ended, so did the 100 Years War, as did the Civil War, and all the other wars.
  8. Remember that this is a time of uncertainty because of the war. Allow for “not knowing” but don’t let your “not knowing” be an excuse for inaction.
  9. Govern your fear. I would like suggest that you give up entirely on fear, but that is impossible for most people however desirable it is to be completely free of fear.
  10. Do you best to avoid the trap of finding an easy and simple solution to something that needs to be done, a position on the cultural situation, the political situation, and the biological situation. Anything else is posturing. However hard it is, for instance, to admit that Trump is bright and successful in many ways, while simultaneously admitting that he is quite flawed in character development, you will be better off trusting both of these things than only one.

Good for Me; Bad for Me VII: Good for Me; Bad for You

My wife likes masks. I don’t. So what does this have to do with “good for me; bad for me”? Lots. Let me explain, but first let me review what I’ve been writing about in recent blogs.

I have proposed that there is a spectrum of things that are, quite simply, “good for me” or “bad for me.” Furthermore, the spectrum ranges from mildly good for to very good for me on one side and then mildly bad for me to significantly bad for me. The spectrum in its simplest form is:

Something that is good for me                               /                             Something that is bad for me

I further suggested that the “bad for me” and the “good for me” sides of the spectrum could be subcategorized as follows:

  • The bad for me spectrum ranges from mild to profound:

Uninteresting      Unpleasant      Aversive                /                      Dangerous      Toxic      Lethal

(mild)                                                                      to                                                     (profound)

  • The good for me spectrum also ranges from mild to profound:

Interesting      Pleasant      Exciting            /           Enlivening     Life-enhancing     Life-sustaining

(mild)                                                        to                                                                    (profound)

We most recently discussed “complexities” of such things, like when you don’t like something that is good for you, like green vegetables that my grandson hates, or working out that I hate. The present discussion is also complex but the complexities are different because they include times when something is:

  • Good for you but not good for someone else
  • Good for someone else but not good for you
  • Good for you and someone else
  • Bad for you and someone else

I want to help you find ways to deal with all these possibilities because this is the heart of the what makes a good relationship, where a brief encounter at the grocery store or  a long-term marital relationship. Furthermore, there are challenges that occur in relationships when there is agreement as well as when there is disparity in what is “good for you” and “bad for you.” In the following categories I am collapsing “liking” and “good for you” for purposes of brevity.

Good for me; Bad for you

This is the most common challenge in relationships, again noting that “relationships” can be intimate or brief. In this category we have at least the following:

  • I like Trump; you don’t; and vise versa
  • I enjoy green vegetables; you don’t
  • Alcohol is good for me; not for you
  • I need to talk; you need silence
  • I watch TV; you don’t
  • I like to read; you don’t
  • It’s good for me to wear a mask; it’s not good for you
  • I trust doctors; you don’t
  • I am a theist; you are an atheist
  • I like debates; you don’t
  • I favor the Black Lives Matter movement; you think it’s awful

Let’s consider one or two of these. The current health, political, and cultural matters so dominate America, whether it is Black Lives, wearing masks, or Trump. How difficult is it for you to go into a store where you “have to wear a mask”, or is it difficult for you to go into a store and see other people without masks? This is an example of the highly emotional element that is always involved in something that is “good for you” or “bad for you.” When emotion runs high, there is a danger of a certain kind of emotionally-caused blindness, superiority, or anger. Consider how you react to the mandate for masks or the lack of people following the mandate for masks, and you will find emotion. Now consider that this emotion erupts from your inner self or soul. Deb and I have just finished our final review of I Want to Tell You How I Feel in which we discuss how “feelings” erupt from a central core self and go sequentially through physical, emotional, cognitive, and active expressions. While we all have all four of these expressions, some people tend to recognize and express themselves in one of these expressions predominantly. Furthermore, emotion is the least developed feeling expression in America and hence the most dominant. So instead of simply noting that you feel sad because you are mandated to wear a mask, you get afraid and angry. Likewise, you do the same jump from sadness to anger and fear if you see other people failing to wear masks. I would propose that it would be helpful for all to recognize that masks are “good for you” and “bad for others” as a start. But this asks a lot of people: it asks them to be sad rather than angry. In my mind this is emotional maturity, i.e. staying with the disappointment, hurt, or sadness rather than letting allowing anger and fear to take over. This is the heart of what Deb and I wrote about in Good Grief.

Back to my original statement: Deb likes masks; I don’t. Well, it’s not true that I “don’t like masks.” What is true is that I choose to wear a mask in my office, which I deem as private, only when requested to do so by a patient. Deb, on the other hand, wears a mask with every patient and requires her patients to wear masks unless it is particularly inconvenient for them to do so. We have found some commonality in the mask-wearing matter but only as we have identified the “core self” matter, which I will discuss forthwith.

We could take any of the other examples noted above and examine them from the perspective of how some things make me sad, a sadness that I might tend to race right by preferring to be self-righteously angry or unduly afraid. There is more to the story but allow me to delay this discussion for a moment and examine the case when something is…

Good for you; Bad for me

We could consider all the political and cultural themes noted above. Let’s look at the Black Lives Matter discussion. This is a very good example of how many people feel deeply passionate about this movement, whereas as other people feel terribly offended. Supporters of Black Lives suggest that Blacks have been disenfranchised in America and feel deeply that there should be some political and cultural change to rectify this inequality. People who are not in favor of this movement speak of “what lives matter also” speaking of Caucasians, or “blue lives matter” speaking of police. On both sides of this discussion, however, lies a tremendous amount of passion with an even stronger element of anger. We have good people who are passionately demonstrating for equality sometimes becoming so engrossed in their emotions that they throw rocks into windows out of anger. We have equally good people who value “land order” and see window-breaking as “wrong”, so they fight back at people who are seeing that America’s cultural state is “not good for them” while their opponents see the movement as “not good for them.”

Let’s consider a somewhat more benign situation that is not so hotly emotional, like it being “good for you” to believe in God compared to people who find such belief “bad for them.” How can this happen? How can people feel that believing in God is bad for them? Being a theist myself, I have to stretch on this one, but I conjecture that atheists find so much wrong with religion that to even speak of a god is to speak a kind of evil. And it is important to note that both theists and atheists talk about “facts” and “science” and “logic” in defending their positions, which are more accurately feeling-based. So what is “feeling-based” mean? How do things become good for me or bad for me out of my “feelings”?

Feeling-based convictions

Since I have just finished the final review of the feeling book that Deb and I have written, this matter is very much on my mind, and it gives me a perspective of this “good for me” and “bad for me” matter. Feelings, as I see them, are an eruption out of our core selves, but I must quickly note that “feelings” and “core selves” are terms that are not defined, nor more so, by the way than time, distance, and mass are defined in physics, life is not defined in biology, or love is not defined in the human condition. To say something is “feeling-based” is tantamount to say that this something erupts from my core self, which in my mind is perfect, or perhaps the better word is pure. Hence, I would contend that the core self of someone who loves Trump is speaking of this purity/perfection just as the Trump hater is speaking of this purity-perfection. Then these two people express their core selves in a way we call “feeling.” So far, so good, as we then have two people speaking from the purity of core self expressing their core selves in feelings. But this is where things go array because people tend to race right through the physical manifestation of feelings and the emotional element of feelings right into the cognitive expression not knowing that they have missed the point. The point is that they have a core self value that is pure but this core value is not easily communicated in words and action without first recognizing the emotional element along the way. If we could agree that the core self always is love-based, we would know that any expression of feeling is love-based. Then we might be able to talk about what we love rather than what we hate; we could talk about what is important to us rather what is anathema; we could talk about what is good for us rather than what is bad for us. This is a tough task and not many people do it.

Good for you; Good for me

This is rather simple category what simply suggests that something, whether Trump or masks, we can find some commonality with something being good for both you and me. Hence, we have political parties, athletic teams, musical themes, and academic pursuits that are good for you as they are good for me. There are actually a lot of them, and it behooves us to remember how many of these things there are.

By the way, something that seem good for me and good for you might not, actually be so good. It might not be ultimately good for Black Lives protesters to feel good about throwing rocks, and it might not be good for the folks on the other side to throw rocks at the demonstrators.

Obviously, the same goes for something that seems bad for you and bad for me. It takes an emotionally mature person to realize that when something seems bad for me, it might also be ultimately good for me. All of this suggests that it important to note the “good for me” and “bad for me” first, then the same for other people before trying to find the common ground, the common ground always being the purity of core self. Oh, that we could communicate our core selves to one another.

The challenge

The challenge is to actually see that our surface “good for me” or “bad for me” erupts from our core selves, which are as close to God (or godliness for you atheists) that we can get. Starting with this we can see that love is at the basis of all good and all that seem bad. Would that our cultural, religious, and political leaders could have this kind of conversation.

In the meantime it will be necessary to simply note, “this is good for me” or “this is bad for me” before we enter into any kind of discussion.