I promised in an earlier post that I would tell you how learning to change happened for me. Here we go.
I can tell you how learning started but I can’t tell you how it ends because I’m still learning. All I knew then is that I wanted to change. Once you want to change, it’s often like two people who speak different languages put in a situation that demands communication. They may want to communicate, but they have no idea how. I wanted to change, but I didn’t know the language.
One person, and only one person could have taught me how to start the process of change. This person was the only one with enough wisdom…enough hold on the broken pieces of my heart. The only one I trusted enough. The only one who could keep me on track. This person had the power to push me forward even though I hated what I was feeling. Correction, I hated that I was feeling. I didn’t feel before so life was pretty comfortable.
That person was gentle but did nothing to relieve my pain. Pain relief was not what I needed. I needed to feel all the pain. (Note: this is why most won’t change and heal. The misery they know (or are blocking out) is more comfortable than the unknown they fear, even if it means being healed.) That person was the only one who could keep me in the dungeon of my personal darkness long enough to hate it, while at the same time holding out hope that I might one day see through it. That person was and is the Holy Spirit.
To many it can sound trite or academic to say that the Holy Spirit guided me, taught me, loved me, corrected me, carried me. To describe Him in such intimate, personal terms seems foreign and weird to many. To those who have had their souls ripped in two. Those who have had all the darkness that lurks deep in their personal abyss gush out so they, and everyone around them, could see it. We understand. Until that time, for many, the Holy Spirit remains locked up in a distant Sunday School lesson.
When the Holy Spirit chooses to strike, the blow is unimaginably brutal. When I had to truly see myself for the dysfunctional man I had become, I just wanted the revelation to end. I didn’t want to die, I wanted to disappear. I’m not saying here that the Spirit was mean or angry, just brutal. How can one be shown the evil that lives in his own heart without feeling the brutality of the trauma? Not possible. It was relentless and hostile to see, but see myself I had to.
That was the beginning. Changing meant seeing myself for who I was. Most of us don’t want to see ourselves this way. We have a thousand, a million, self-deceptions that keep us seeing ourselves as good people. Even when we do bad things, we have a handy excuse. Deflection, blame, rationalization, and others are ready tools to help us keep our self-perception intact.
Once I saw how much pain my disconnection caused (to myself and those I loved), I could take another step. This one was also Holy Spirit led. I showed others what I was seeing. I described to anyone who would listen just how much suffering I had caused, how much I had hurt people, how I had crushed the person closest to me in all the world. I’m still telling others. I do remember a friend at the time using the word transparent to describe my next step. I had to be transparent with anyone and everyone. Transparent is such an overused cliche. It’s almost meaningless now.
What I really had to do was freely expose myself in all my filth and naked inner ugliness to everyone who wanted to learn from my mistakes. That’s one of the reasons I wrote The Disconnected Man. I had to come to the point that I had nothing else to lose. No pride, no sense of self, no purpose other than to show others what it looks like to be a wretch.
When you get to the point where you have absolutely nothing left to lose, then there’s nothing to lose by being absolutely nothing.
I was willing to let everyone see the real me, regardless how they responded, because I knew I didn’t have anything left to salvage. I’m convinced that if I thought I had anything left to save, reputation, profession, relationships, personal inner comfort, etc. I would never have started the journey to learn anything. So in those days, I told anyone who would listen,
then I wrote about my experience and sought a publisher – so I would never forget. I figure if the whole world knows then I have a better chance of staying accountable to the lessons.
When these two hurdles are crossed with the help of the Holy Spirit; seeing yourself as you are, and allowing anyone else who wants to look to see the same thing, then you can start making big strides toward healing. Many have to face these first two steps alone – I had to because the Spirit told me I had to. Many cannot take these two steps without support. It doesn’t matter if you take them alone or in the company of many supporters, you still have to take them.
The next thing is to admit that you know nothing about relating and that you need teachers. It’s time to gather the wisest, most loyal, most loving friends and family around to teach you how to relate. How to truly love. It’s time to read books and blogs by people who are a few steps ahead of you on the path. Arrogant people try to do it on their own – ok, I’ll be charitable and allow that ignorant people often try on their own. Warning: Neither arrogant nor ignorant people get very far down the relationship road.
What I did next was meet often with my friends and have deep conversations about how relationships really work, to point out my mistakes when they saw them, and to tell me I would get there. I talked often with my adult children who taught me and put up with my stumbles. I kept feeling and didn’t let my heart get blocked. I stayed transparent and exposed. I remain exposed – I hope you’ll join me.