Posts Tagged ‘personality

08
Feb
22

My Saturday Self

I have a question: Which of your many “selves” is your truest self?

 To clarify, I am not suggesting that you necessarily suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder. But if you do, God bless you. 

I’m just saying that most of us have different “faces” we choose to wear in different settings. 

Back in the WD (Working Days, that is), there was definitely a “home Russell” and a “work Russell.” Yes, certainly, those two shared a lot of traits in common, but they were seismically and humungously different. For starters, Home Russell was a lot more laid back, jovial, and fun to be around than Work Russell

But if you were to plop Home Russell down in the workplace, he would not have accomplished much at all. He’d be napping, checking sports scores (or events), or snacking. That is, when he wasn’t tidying something up or wasting time on social media.  

Similarly, Work Russell wouldn’t have been much fun around the home on evenings and weekends. 

I also noticed that different days of the week also seemed to give birth to different selves. Monday me was a very different character from Friday me. The former was not someone you’d want to spend a lot of time with, whereas the Friday version was a pretty happy-go-lucky dude. 

[That is, unless there was a project with a Friday deadline that wasn’t quite finished yet. In which case, it was “Katie bar the door,” if anyone actually says that anymore.]

After sorting through all these personas one day, I concluded that my Saturday Self was the truest, most honest, most authentic expression of the human being God created me to be. Saturday me didn’t have any performance anxiety. Saturday me wasn’t under any particular gun. He was free to organize his day and come and go as he pleased. 

I mean, sure, there were lawns to be mowed, weeds to be pulled, soccer games to be watched, and Home Depot trips to be made. But all of that happened in a relaxed, fluid, stressless way that made Saturday Russella joy to be around…

… unless, of course, there was a plumbing project to be done.

But now, here in Retiredsville, I have discovered that EVERY day is Saturday. Kicking back and relaxing isn’t nearly as much fun when it is something I can do every single moment of every single day. Didn’t finish painting the trim in the guest bathroom today? No problem! You can always do it tomorrow!

Theoretically then, since every day is now Saturday, I should be my best and truest self all day EVERY day here in the land of retirement. Right?

As Joan can verify from first-hand experience, sadly, that is not the case. There are still ups and downs through the week. There are still some Russells that are much more enjoyable to be around than other Russells. There are some that are really sharp, “on the ball,” raring to go, and others that struggle to tie their shoes correctly.

Sometimes, however, in the midst of my attempts to sort through the mysteries of the human psyche and its infinite manifestations, I am abruptly stopped. 

Something somehow reminds me of what a blessing it is to remember that there is only ONE me. That something also reminds me that this ME was created in its infinite complexity, and weirdness by a loving, compassionate God. And further, that the One who created all those strange nooks and crannies of personality sees beneath every mask and persona to my very CORE. 

Here is how the Psalmist says it: “My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” (Psalm 139:15-16, NRSV).

And then, here is the totally amazing part; even seeing EXACTLY what is there, that One still declares it beautiful and beloved. 

And the Good News is the same One who sees ME in that light also sees YOU just as clearly and describes YOU exactly the same way.

Is that bizarre, or what?

Abundant blessings;

15
May
21

Homecoming

Where is your place?

Come take a SPIN!

Whenever I discuss the important places in my life, I usually list four: 

  • Columbus, Ohio – the place where I was born.
  • Seattle, Washington – the place to which our family moved in 1969 (and still the region where my four siblings and stepmom live)
  • Kansas City, MO metro area – the place I lived for 44 years, and
  • Fort Collins, CO – the place I live right now.

The fact of the matter is, I sat down the other day and made a list of every house I have lived in since infancy and came up with the staggering total of 27. 

27!

That means I have only lived – on average – 2.55 years in each of those places. 

Doesn’t that make me sound like a restless vagabond, constantly in search of that elusive IDEAL PLACE? I certainly think so.

And it kind of begs the question: “Is there such a thing as The Ideal Place?” 

In my life I have known people who believe in the existence of The Ideal Place and are engaged in a restless, lifelong search for it. 

They want the Ideal Climate

They want the Ideal Topography and Geography

They want the Ideal Quantity (and Quality) of Cultural Amenities

They want the Ideal Cost of Living.

They want a place with the Ideal Reputation.

And of course, they want to make sure this Ideal Place is populated by the Ideal Type of Person. You know… the type that is friendly, but not too friendly. Diverse, but not too diverse. Educated, but not too educated. And so on…

The sad outcome of this quest is that each place they live in somehow falls short on one or more of these critical criteria. 

And so, convinced that the next stop will be the answer, they pack up and move there… and start the process all over again.

I have to say, with the notable exception of the seedy place in Tacoma where Jeff, Marcus, and I lived, and probably my one-bedroom apartment on McGee Street in Kansas City, I have really LOVED every one of the 27 different places I have lived. 

Some I chose willingly, while other places were forced on me by the circumstance. But in every case, I knew it was not going to be the WHERE that made the difference… it was going to be the WHAT, as in “What kind of person are you going to be here in this new environment?” 

Because, as Buckaroo Banzai said in the 1984 cult classic film, “No matter where you go, there you are!” 

The truth is, God sees us – and KNOWS us – wherever we are. God knows us inside and out, whether we’re wearing the plaid flannel of Colorado, the flip-flops of Miami Beach, or the grungy, torn blue jeans of Seattle. As the psalmist once said, “My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance…” (Psalm 139:15-16, NRSV).

The scene can change, but unless we change too, we will find ourselves facing the same problems all over again in the next place we go. 

Today I live in Fort Collins, Colorado. It is a nice, friendly, attractive, stimulating place with awesome vistas and lots of indoor and outdoor stuff to do. And yet, despite all its sterling qualities, I REALLY still miss the people and places of the Kansas City area. 

But you know what? I’ve made up my mind that here, with God and the love of my life by my side, is where I am going to call HOME

Abundant blessings;

22
Jul
20

Is Regionality Really Real?

Wild WestThe other day, Patrick the dog and I were out walking in our neighborhood here in Fort Collins, Colorado.

Not an unusual thing for us.

As we walked along a street not far from our home, we saw a neighbor couple out working in their yard. Of course, I wanted to avert my eyes, pretend I hadn’t seen them, and keep on walking. But Patrick insisted on stopping and chatting up our “new best friends.”

I found out their names were Frank and Meredith. Frank hailed from Illinois originally, but Meredith was born and raised in Colorado. After explaining that I had only moved here six months earlier, I added, “My wife and I are just AMAZED at how friendly the people are here! It really is awesome.”

To which Meredith replied, “I’ll tell you honestly… it is because of the influence of all of you Midwesterners. People from Colorado really aren’t that friendly – and I say that as a native Coloradan. You folks moving here from Iowa, and Kansas, and Ohio, and Illinois are just rubbing off on us.”

To which I replied, “Huh! Isn’t that interesting?”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Frank and Meredith, it was time for Patrick and I to bid them farewell and resume the Hunt for Bunnies (aka, morning walk).

But Meredith’s comment stuck with me. First, I wondered if her observation was really true. I mean, I have met a lot of friendly people from Colorado. I have also met a lot of really UNfriendly people from the Midwest.

But it also made me wonder if there really are such things as a State or Regional Personalities.

Are Midwesterners – on the whole – extraordinarily friendly?

Are Coloradans actually stuck-up and aloof?

Do Californians really check themselves in the mirror every 10 minutes and inject the word “dude” into half their sentences?

And what about people from the South? How closely do they conform to the stereotype that paints them as abnormally bigoted and uneducated?

I remember a sociology teacher in college who told us that stereotypes are so dangerous because most of them, “… begin with a small grain of truth.”

I believe we are drawn to stereotypes initially because they promise to save us time and energy. We shake hands with someone from Rhode Island and think to ourselves, “Since I already know that people from Rhode Island are vicious gossips, I won’t have to wear myself out trying to discover that personality flaw in this guy!”

Too often, though, we stop working to understand that person once the stereotype rears its ugly head.

I am sure there was a day long ago when there was such a thing as “regional flavor.” But then we invented superhighways, and jet airliners, and television, and the Internet, and little by little, our regional quirks and tics all began to blend together. It is no longer unusual for someone to be born in Ohio, move to Seattle, then to Minneapolis, then to Kansas City, then to Chicago, then to Sydney, Australia, then back to Kansas City, and finally to Fort Collins, Colorado… which, incidentally, is the story of my life’s journey.

We are each as unique as our fingerprints. Our personalities and outlooks have been shaped by thousands of different things… including the part(s) of the country we have lived in.

But isn’t it great to be reminded in scripture that EVERY ONE OF US is made in the image of God? (Genesis 1:27), no matter where we hail from? That we each carry Divine DNA in our souls? That even people from Arizona are considered to be, “… a little lower than God…” and have been, “… crowned with glory and honor,”according to the psalmist in Psalm 8?

(Sorry, Arizonans. I had to pick on somebody).

Today I invite us each to pause and celebrate the supernatural ancestry that binds us tightly together in one human family.

But let’s also not forget that the BEST bar-be-que on the planet can be found in Kansas City…

 

Abundant blessings;

27
Nov
17

No monsters… no saints

“For by grace you are saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so that no one can boast. For we are his workmanship…”  Ephesians 2:8-10, NRSV

Cars on the highwayWHEW! We made it!

Sometime after 9:00 pm, in the non-Daylight Saving Time pitch-blackness of Saturday night we finally pulled into our driveway and turned off the Prius’ purring engine, thanking her for her faithful service.

Achy muscles uncoiled themselves and stiff joints popped as we disembarked from the 11-hour drive from Houston to Kansas City.

My wife and I then both made a secret pact that we would not do that again anytime soon… that is, at least not until the next auspicious family gathering.

Eleven hours is a LONG time to drive. You need a few diversions along the way – for sanity’s sake. And if you have taken a lengthy trip by car recently, you probably played some of the same road games we did as you drove. There is, for example:

  • … the ever popular, “Find the mutually acceptable and also reasonably audible radio station” game.
  • … or the “Let’s make detailed plans for the next three years of family vacations” conversation.
  • … and who doesn’t love the, “speculate at length about whether this is the same route we took last year or not” diversion?

Yes, these are all a ton of fun. But I have to confess, one of my favorite long-car-trip games is known by the initials: I.P.A.

But instead of standing for India Pale Ale, this IPA means Instant Personality Assessment.

And you know how this one goes because you have played it yourself… on multiple occasions. It goes something like this:

  • “Look at that clown in the silver Camry. Why is he going so slow? Doesn’t he know the speed limit is 75?”
  • “All these Texas drivers in their pick-up trucks… They think they own the road!”
  • “Did you see that guy up there in the red SUV? He must be texting or something. He’s gone onto the shoulder TWICE!”
  • “Whoa… watch out for this lunatic coming up on the left. He’s GOT to be going 85!”

After a while, it becomes abundantly clear that there is only ONE CAR on the entire highway that knows how to follow the basic rules of common sense in driving: YOURS.

Conversely, it is also clear that a dangerous, self-absorbed, psychopathic fiend of some kind pilots every other car on the road.

It sounds funny when you say it out loud, but that description is really not too much of an exaggeration. Most of us, as we drive, tend to ascribe outlandishly vile personality traits to the other drivers on the road… while assigning outlandishly saintly qualities to ourselves.

Of course in our hearts, we know neither of those statements is really accurate. The truth lies somewhere between them.

The drivers of the other cars are NOT actually monsters.

And by the same token, WE are not actually saints as we drive our cars.

Each of us is an imperfect, stressed, hopeful, excited, dismayed, wounded, confused, emotional, beloved child of God… doing everything we can to make it safely from Point “A” to Point “B” in our brand new, beat up, smooth, junky, clean, filthy, pickups, sedans, coupes, clunkers, SUVs and 18-wheelers.

We are each looking for a point of refuge or an anchor in a fast-spinning, ever-changing world.

We imagine we will find it just around that next bend in the road or at the truck stop. Surely it will be there when we get home!

Too rarely do we stop and let this truth from this passage from Ephesians settle down over us and calm our restless hearts; we don’t remember that we are not saved by our superior driving skills, the charity of our fellow motorists, or by our St. Christopher’s medals as we ply the highways.

We are – and have ALWAYS been – saved by grace and grace alone.

 

Happy motoring!




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