Currents of Faith: Open and Unfolding Reflections

I learned about a significant part of my past in a counseling office. Dr. Paul King was my first psychotherapist at the Michigan State University Student Counseling Center. I was learning to counsel by experiencing counseling from the other side of the desk. During this time period we were talking about my fears and my guilt. Frequently as I spoke I would feel a strong tightening feeling surging upward into my neck then my head would shake rapidly back and forth uncontrollably. This was truly puzzling and disturbing. On one such occasion a flood of memories rushed into my awareness. I re-lived myself as an eight year old boy sitting on the basement steps, horrified, and clinging to my mother. I experienced moments of my past which had been repressed for years, too overwhelming and intense for me to bear.

This was the birth of my awareness of the Coward! I had known well the resulting feelings of fear and guilt but not their origin. A part of my past was deeply influencing me though I had no memory of it. Only later would I come to understand that by my uncontrollable shaking I was physically responding to those moments of horror as I would have at the time. Too dangerous for me to yell out, by the rapid shaking of my head, without words I was crying out “No! No! No!”

I have spoken of the Coward and his moment of birth earlier. Now I wish to explore this part of me to illustrate the true complexity of that which I have summarized in one simple name, then share how I struggled to transform that part. I am exploring the past. My past represents the most powerful and influential voices in my present center of creativity.

Where is the Coward? Where is the Roseworth boy? Where is Steel? Today, sixty-five years, sixty-three years and forty-nine years later, where are those Bobs who were real then? Everything must be somewhere. I affirm that they and many others are still present as objects of my past and possible members of every committee meeting I hold. They do not go away, disappear or vanish.

I will imagine that the drill instructor is taking roll call to see if all those voices are present and accounted for, beginning with those with greatest longevity and coming forward to the more recent additions. “All right, you people, Sound Off!!”

Scaredy cat! Here. Soldier! Here. Obsessive-Compulsive boy! Here. Coward! Here. Death-Wisher! Here. Roseworth Boy! Here. The Kid! Here. Comforted! Here. Intellect! Here. Steel! Sir, Private Brizee Present, Sir! Dissociator! Dissociator!! DISSOCIATOR!!! ……here. Show-Off! Yes, Oh Indeed, Yes!

The past Bobs are gathered, seated around the committee table, ready to influence the next decision about the becoming Bob. Even more, there are the shadowy, vague figures in the background who are without names but not without power. Coward was earlier one such figure. In fact, those out of my awareness probably have more power than those who answered the roll call. If I were asked to bet on who I would become next, I would place my bank roll on a repetition of the past. Their very silent presence may whisper, speak, or yell, “Do me again! Repeat me! Stay with the familiar!” If I want to guess who a person will be tomorrow, I look at who this person was in the past day, week, month and year. The past usually wins, except in those moments when God’s invitation, the body or the world rises up in dramatic ways.

Of course, the names I have given to those present are too simple, not portraying the vast complexity of my past life. Consider the Coward. The actions of that fiery moment begin when I run down the stairs after my father and brother. I will call this Event 1, and abbreviate it as [E1]. I stop abruptly on the stairs as I see my father catch my brother: Event 2, [E2]. I gaze in horror as my father beats my brother with a broom handle [E3]. I grab my mother’s leg tightly as she sits next to me on the stairway [E4]. I have strong feelings of concern and compassion for my brother [E5]. I feel a strong urge to lunge out against my father and rescue my brother [E6]. Massive fear overwhelms me [E7]. I freeze in silence and stay put on the stairs [E8].

All of the above events are the result of my centers of creativity, defining myself by my actions. Each event occurs and is present to influence the next emerging event. While each event is fixed and done once it is completed, it flows into the next event: [E6] grows out of and depends on [E5]. All of the completed events remain present like committee members sitting in a circle. As an event is concluded a new member is added, deeply influencing the next event.

A new form of event emerges, one in which I give meaning to the earlier sequence of actions. I define myself. I give myself a name. I call myself, “a coward.” Now this event is present and speaks in all the ensuing committee meetings. “I am a coward.” This event may be designated [MC1] with M = meaning, C = Coward and 1 designating the first time.

Now with this meaning attached to the events and unquestioned, it has great formative power in future events. Let me enumerate a few: I will not take the role of father when we are playing house, only the brother [MC2]: M = meaning, C = Coward, 2 = the second time. I will not be first in “follow the leader” treks on our bikes [MC3]. I will hold back and let a friend tell the service station manager that we lost a quarter in the pop machine [MC4]. I will not be the president of the boy’s only tree house club [MC5].

The original events [E1-8] and their meanings [MC1-5], then influence each of the later events as, with or without my awareness, I allow the coward image to guide me. A long line of cowardice played out in a variety of situations becomes increasingly powerful . All of the events are fixed and over, yet highly influential and formative of the future.

My committee meetings had a crowd of cowardly voices speaking from the past. So, was I destined to be a coward? Did I have freedom to change? If yes, how could this change occur? I see transformation occurring in the following manner.

It is possible in a safe environment to carefully review the original events [E1-8] which happened before the original meaning [MC1] was given to those events. By walking patiently and slowly through each of those events in sequence, I may consider what I might have done in each step rather than what I did. What if I had stayed upstairs, only hearing the brutal sounds of the assault? What if I had yelled out for him to stop? What if I had followed my feelings and lunged at my father as he beat my brother? What would be the probable consequences of each such action? I can only guess, but it is highly likely that I would have been turned upon by my father. I would probably have been injured.

Through this slow moving process in an atmosphere of safety, it became vividly clear that my actions kept my body from being bruised or bones broken. Could it be that my actions were not cowardice but the least harmful acts given the circumstances of an eight year old boy, a helpless mother, and a violent father? The consequences which did follow for me included personal agony and suffering, but not physical harm. Only in the safety of the counseling office could I calmly and rationally review these events and alternative options, gaining a new insight into who I was.

I could now consider a new meaning rather than Coward. If the actions I took were the best possible given the situation, then this earlier meaning becomes invalid. Doing the best an eight year old can do in an impossible situation is not cowardice. I could not have rescued my brother. I concluded that I did Okay. This was the new meaning which I will call [EMA], where E = events, M = meaning, A = Appropriate. The appropriate meaning was that I did just what was possible given my age and the surrounding circumstances. I protected my own body in those fiery moments. For me, it was an “Aha” experience, a release, a moment of new freedom!

Having this new awareness, I now welcome a new member into any future committee meetings, although I may not immediately go to [EMA], but rather have transitions [EMT] where T = Transition. I may struggle, shifting between several definitions of myself: [EMC] original, [EMT] transitional, and [EMA] appropriate. At times I will be convinced of one or the other, at times deeply confused and divided. Committee meetings will be composed of all of the above. They will be complex, intense and uncomfortable. Dialogs may occur between any two, discussions among all, and shouting matches may emerge.

But none of the originals have changed. They are all present and influencing. None ever go away, though they may have softer less compelling voices. In the future, I may experience the original [E1-8] or [EMC] in great vividness and power in some surprising ambush. Likewise, I may feel the confusion of the transition [EMT]. Only as I try out the new [EMA] will I own a new definition of myself with any depth and certainty.

I have created a new meaning for an old event, a new frame for an old picture. The old event and meaning are still present, as are the transitional meanings. All are a part of me, members of my committee. If the drill instructor made a roll call now, those present in a newly becoming committee meeting would include not just the Coward, but a host of parts which make up that label: [E1], [E2], [E-3], [E-4], [E-5],  [E-6], [E-7], [E-8],  [MC1], [MC2], [MC3], [MC4], [MC5], [EMT}and [EMA]. As the camp song expresses, “Wider and wider our circle expands, Vive la Compagnie.” My past is truly complex, yet if a digital camera were focused there, each one could be seen. [E-1] running down the steps could be seen in the seconds that he existed, others who followed him would be visible as well.

I cannot change the original eight year old Robert on the stairway. I did create new meaning for the actions he took. The events on the stairway stand as my history. The original meaning is also history. They will ever be a part of the depth of my being.

The new meaning I created is just as real and a part of my depth, only younger. The original and the new live together, hopefully with the new increasingly influential as my daily guide. The greater the influence of the new, the more the past events and meanings recede. I gradually become the new creation, one who acts with appropriate courage in each emerging situation.

I affirm again that if I wish to bet on who I will be next, I will put my money on who I have been. The past usually wins hands down. The problem for me is that I am not always aware of who from my past is calling the shots. I was in my twenties when I became aware of the Coward. During the intervening years I had no idea who was the powerful persuader. Only with great effort does awareness emerge.

As I conclude my thoughts about my inner coward, I am aware that I could have expanded on many parts of me in a similar manner. Each of those in my past were created by me in particular situations and are composed of a complexity and process similar to that of the coward. To unveil them would require the microscope I used rather than the naked eye. So, when I say Scardey Cat, Soldier, Roseworth Boy, or Dissociator I am using a form of playful shorthand, or more appropriately today, Text Messaging.
 
We are often trapped by the conventional wisdom: “That’s just the way I am. I’m a chip off the old block. I’ve always been this way. I can’t help it; it’s in my genes. That’s the way it is with us Brizees.”

Though the past possesses great power, it in no way determines who I will become. There is a critical difference between saying “I’m a smoker” and “I have smoked 7,185, 642 times.” Just as I said, “I’m a coward.” I affirm now that I am a sculptor of myself, using the clay of a number of powerful persuaders. But, I am the artist. I am a subject who receives from many sources and from them chooses who to be. I am the “I” who does so. I become someone. Following the development, satisfaction, and completion of that moment, I become an object. I as subject become an object. The object is no longer a chooser. The object is like a photograph, once taken it cannot be changed or like a painting, once the water color is dry cannot be changed. The object no longer is an “I,” an actor, an artist, a creator, rather he or she is a finished product.

Still, objects have influence on whom I become next. I think of photographs: that I had my picture taken with Harry and Harold in our colorful silk shirts and Mexican sombreros, that I was present when the flash of the camera captured the smiling faces of the Buhl High School class of 1949, that I stood with Patty in a marriage ceremony, that I  appeared with platoon 168 in my Marine uniform, that I stood in the pulpit in my black robe and white stole, all are completed objects which can influence both my future and the future of others.

That Leonardo DaVinci painted the “Last Supper,” that Sallman, created the “Head of Christ,” that Handel composed “The Messiah,” that Gandhi led Indians on a march to the sea, that Jesus proclaimed “Love Your Enemies,” have had tremendous influence on all who have viewed, heard, sung, or followed  those objects. All are objects which were once subjects. In other words, who I became is thrown into the world, broadcast to the creation, as a statement, as a happening, a form of art, a potential model for others now and in the distant future.

This is only half of the story according to the process vision. The “I” whom I have just created continues as a subject in the life of God. I continue, then, as both object and subject, object to the world, subject in God. In my complete fullness I am embraced, welcomed and cherished everlastingly in the rich tapestry, the colorful quilt, the bountiful garden, the awesome depth which is the life of God. Within God’s life I will be gradually transformed. It pleases me to know that more of the moments of my seventy-four years of life are now within God than the moments I have left to live. I am also motivated to create these latter moments of my remaining years with grace to balance some of my earlier awkward and naive moments.

I have come to know that while God is a presence in each of my moments of creativity, God will be a presence in my future moments of existence. I find that this awesome vision stretches my imagination. Nonetheless I affirm it to be so. I was delighted to read a quote from Kurt Vonnegut published following his recent death. “I honestly believe, though, that we are wrong to think that moments go away, never to be seen again. This moment and every moment last forever.” Yes!

Each completed moment continues as an object in the universe and continues as a subject in God. The meaning of who I have created is then, twofold: I am both a potential model for any person in the future and a beloved who is aware of God and tenderly held by God in the midst of a rich transformation. The person to whom I am most likely a model is, of course, myself.

God cherishes each moment of my being in its fullness and liveliness. In contrast, I remember snatches and fragments of my moments. Some past moments are beyond my awareness, alas, usually someone’s name in the coffee hour after worship. Some moments I forget, some are kindly repressed to save me from pain. God values all!

This discussion began with the question: Where is Yesterday? My answer is, first it is somewhere. Second, it is both an object which occurred and is now available to the future world and a subject continuing in the life of God. When yesterday was today, it was a subject. As it moved to yesterday it became an object.

I conclude that who I have been in the past, is now in the world and in God!

Living in Process: My 43 Years in Process Theology is an interactive eBook by Robert Brizee, Th.M., Ph.D.