Captain D's......please?

Every group of friends has that one guy who actually likes eating there and would eat there willingly. In our group, that friend was Matt. Matt would bring over Captain D’s to our apartment some nights. I remember how my roommate and I would marvel over the fact that Matt would choose to eat such a meal when he could eat, well, anything else.

The thing is, Matt really enjoyed eating Captain D’s in a totally non-ironic way. He wasn’t eating there so that he could talk about eating there, and he wasn't eating there to make some sort of statement, like most people do about not going to Starbucks. He was eating there because that was his preference. He wanted to eat there, and he enjoyed it. And he’s not the only one.

On several occasions I've had clients who would come in for therapy and would describe their weekends as special when they had a chance to go and eat at Captain D’s with their family or friends. And they were completely genuine about it. And that’s humbling, because, believe it not, I find myself too proud to eat there sometimes. I might even like Captain D’s if I gave it more of a chance.

I’d wager that with more genuineness comes a higher degree of contentment, and more contentment comes a higher degree of genuineness. That’s not to say that your life will be perfect if you admit to liking Nickelback, but it is to say that it lessens some of the anxiety.

There's Always Next Year

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.” –Proverbs 13.12

I like watching my college team win games, and I like watching my college rival lose games. I know that’s not very generous, and there are thankfully times when my sports rival matters very little to me. My dislike is usually proportional to how much time I spend with my rival team’s unkind fans. This year we lost, and the unkind fans were unkind.

I remember thinking as the clock ran out that we would be able to win the following year because of all the resources we would have returning and all of the resources that the other team would be losing. The validity of this argument is beside the point. The problem is, I had that same thought process the previous year when we lost, and it didn’t lead to anything. I was putting my hope in an event that might not happen anytime soon. My hope was not fulfilled.

So let’s go back two years. Two years ago we won for the second year in a row. I remember thinking at that time we would have the resources to be even better the following year. We would certainly win the next year as well. In this case, even though we had won two years in a row, I was still hoping in a future thing. The accomplishments my team had already achieved were not enough because there was always the subsequent year. Again, my hope was not fulfilled.

The World Cup and the Olympics are a bit better because they occur every four years. If you win then you can rest confidently, right? Not really. The morning after receiving the trophy or the medal, you have to return to work again, getting ready for next time. And for these events each competition carries more weight because you’ll have to wait four years to try again, and, let’s face it, geriatrics and sports don’t go well together. Unless we’re talking about Senior Olympics. Here again, people’s hopes are not fulfilled.

Every sports defeat leaves us longing and every sports victory leaves us wanting. Transient things cannot sustain our hope and joy. The victory that we want can only be found in eternal things. Sports are merely a shadow of those victories attained in Christ, whose triumph was good once and for all.

Relationships and Counseling

As a counselor I've been on the interview side of the therapy process. When I say "interview" I don't mean checking to see if a particular person merits a scholarship or certain job. I mean the information gathering process where I learn about the person's family, symptoms, medical history, and a myriad of other topics that I would often forget to ask about.

My default whenever I am talking to someone is to look for points of intersect between our lives that I can use as part of a grid for understanding a person or to use conversation to explore their symptoms. For example, if a man walks into the counseling room who is consumed by guilt whenever he does not get an A on a test, or if someone else spends the session crying because of the guilt she experiences every time she takes a drink even when she thinks it's her only choice, I am able to get a look into both of their worlds, and they are surprisingly similar. Each is driven by a desire to live up to some standard imposed on them.

Now, there are a lot of directions we can go with this and a lot more questions we can ask. We would want to understand more about Person A's desire to achieve (Is it imposed by his parents or by himself? What happened in the past when he didn't get the grade? What will happen if he's able to get all the grades? Does the fear of failure transfer to other areas?). We'd also want to know more about Person B's drinking (Is there a history of drinking in the family? Does she experience depression? Does her community add guilt for her choices? Do they encourage her to drink more? Does she have friends who do both?). All of these are good things to know, and each of these points should be explored in therapy or conversation. 

However, I think there is a more important first step. Relationship. A relationship (or change in relationship) is necessary to change, and these relationships tend to function in two ways. On the one hand relationship provides the context for change. By this I mean, just as certain environments allow certain plants to flourish more (palm trees in the tropics), relationship is the environment that best allows change to take places. Context is an indirect method of relational change

The other way that relationship leads to change is through contact. Consider, for example, the effect of water or wind on rocks--erosion. It is their interaction. In relationship this would look like confronting the person about their situation, brainstorming ideas for change, and then working with the person to stick to it. Contact is a direct method of relational change. 

Without context the implementation of change can be rough and abrasive. This might leave some people to abandon efforts because they do not feel understood or loved. Without contact the implementation of change can stagnate. This might leave some people to abandon efforts because they see no impact.

We need to create an environment for change that also allows us the ability to confront the changes needed.

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

When I was a kid my parents and I would go to the Christmas parade that marched through downtown New Albany around the first or second week of December. This was one of those local parades that included the high school football team and the occasional Sunday school class. Denizens of my small town witnessed a menagerie of horses, dogs, normal-sized people driving small-sized motorcycles, clowns, and floats. The high school marching band, there was only one in my town, usually provided the music. The floats were always a highlight, especially that year when, as a cub scout, I got to ride in one with the rest of the troop. At the end of the parade rode Santa Claus, usually in some sort of float resembling a chimney, and he would toss out candy to the masses. I think he may have even thrown out Mardi Gras beads once.

It was usually cold, I would often have to break out my “big coat” and mittens, and people would line up in rows three or four deep in front of closed-yet-lit shops to witness the spectacle. You have to understand, the parade and the fair, which happened the week before school started, were marquee events in my town. Everyone went to them or, at the very least, acted like they did.

My dad likes to get places earlier, so after he got off work and showered, we would head over to Main Street, find a place to park, and find our place in the rows to wait for the show. Sometimes we would be back a couple of places, and sometimes we would be right at the front.

The thing is, regardless of our location, my dad would always pick me up, put me on his shoulders, and I would watch the parade from my high vantage point. To my right or left I could see others in a similar position. I remember I could see the direction the parade was coming from, and I could see what was coming next. I could also see what just went by, and, if I looked, what had gone by much earlier. Sure, I could hear the band playing in the distance, but being able to see its approach or see its retreat into the distance gave a much different impression.  Whenever he would put me down all I could see was the small space before me, and, even if I was brave enough to peek around the crowd and down the street, the parade itself would obstruct my view.  

I think that’s how life works. We are able to see things better because of our blessings not because of our brawn.  I was blessed with a dad who would take me the parade. That meant that I could carry on conversations that others could not because I was there. I was blessed with a dad who would put me on his shoulders so I could see what was happening.

A lot of times it seems like we do one of two things. We look at our own talents and our own abilities and think, “Because of this, I am who I am.” On the other hand we may look at our point in history and think, “Because we are who we are we are better and smarter than those who came before us.” The ultimate end of both mindsets is to look down on others. In the case of the former it is those around us. In the case of the other it is those before us.

We are only able to do anything, science, music, literature, cinema, stage, writing, or any other field, because of those who came before us. Even those who are self-made require the work of others before them, work that they may not have been able to accomplish themselves, to accomplish their goals. If I were to claim that I could see either arm of the parade stretching off in in distance from a six foot vantage point on my own as a five year old you would either disregard my comments or call me a fool. (Since I was kid you might just call me “silly.”) Even if you did believe that I was a six foot tall five year old, that does not change the fact that I was not and I had to rely on his shoulders to see what I saw, just as our belief in God’s existence does not change the fact that he gives us breath.

Isaac Newton once wrote in a letter, “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” Newton readily acknowledged that his many accomplishments, hinged upon those who came before him. He only had the tools to accomplish what he could because of discoveries made by other people.

Incidentally one can trace Newton’s phrasing to someone else—Bernard of Chartres, who would argue that “we are like dwarves perched on the shoulders of giants, and thus we are able to see more and farther than the latter. And this is not at all because of the acuteness of our sight or the stature of our body, but because we are carried aloft and elevated by the magnitude of the giants.”

We’re not really the giants we think we are.

There’s something to be said of humility that does not denigrate the results obtained by the effort. Newton recognizes those who came before and recognizes that others will use him in a similar manner. In doing so he shatters the notion that a man is an island.

We were made to stand on shoulders and be shoulders. We were made for relationships. We were made to help others and be helped by others.