“I would rather be a little nobody, then to be an evil somebody.”
― Abraham Lincoln
We are some messy, incongruent characters. We wander, meander, charge, fumble and fall through life. On one day I can wake up with a little hop in my step, feelin’ like I’ve got some swagger. By the end of the same day I’m curled up in a fetal position, wondering how anyone would pay me or trust me with any semblance of responsibility. We then learn us some fantastic ways to fake it till we make it, and that’s fine in plenty of circumstances. Often the fakery it can turn darker, and masks a deeper issue, resulting in an impostor living your life instead of the real you. In other words, we chase something to hide or heal a festering wound, an insecurity, a need to be affirmed. We call it our “best life,” but maybe it’s a facade.
I know personally, I have an incessant thirst to learn. I want to read and discover more about countless subjects. All well and fine, right? The negative is I fight an insecurity about my intelligence. It smolders from words that cut deep as a 12-yr old when I heard my dad say to my mom, “You know he’s stupid!” I’d like to think as an adult male I could shrug it off after 40 years. In some ways I’ve turned it into a driving force, but it teeters on unhealthy. It’s a joy to use gifts or strengths or competencies, the nomenclature doesn’t matter. At other times, it feels like demons being chased. A low-level angst or anxiety, never feeling satisfied, or only for a fleeting moment.
There’s also the ever-present question of “How damn narcissistic and self-absorbed is this entire existence?” Thankfully, a relationship with Christ via His grace, encourages healing, pushes hard against self-absorption, forces us to look outward to think of and help others with their stuff, thereby helping rid us of our junk.
In one of my favorite books, Daily Rituals, How Artists Work, these excerpts leap off the page with me. They show how our gifts drive us, but are back-breaking work, no matter how gargantuan the heavenly talent enacting them. Roth won the Pulitzer for American Pastoral, and Angelou was nominated for her book of poems Just Give Me a Cool Drink of Water ‘Fore I Diiie.
“Writing isn’t hard work, it’s a nightmare,” Roth said in 1987. Coal mining is hard work. This is a nightmare… There’s a tremendous uncertainty that’s built into the profession, a sustained level of doubt that supports you in some way. A good doctor isn’t in a battle with his work; a good writer is locked in a battle with his work.” — Philip Roth
“Sometimes the intensity of the work brings on strange physical reactions—her back goes out, her knees swell, and her eyelids once swelled completely shut. Still, she enjoys pushing herself to the limits of her ability. ‘I have always got to be the best,’ she has said. ‘I’m absolutely compulsive, I admit it. I don’t see that’s a negative.'” — Maya Angelou from a 1983 interview
Fascinating insight from both, considered two of the greatest writers of their generation. Roth’s greatest gift was also a nightmare. Angelou went so hard to be the best, it caused physical health problems. Maybe that’s part of the path to greatness, fighting through the pain. Might also be an unhealthy neurosis hiding in there. We think talented people turn on their spigot, and genius flows forth while they watch and giggle like children eating ice cream. Nope, it’s one chop after another, at a tree made of granite. Blisters form and bleed, then callous. Sometimes the tree falls, other times it broods over us like teasing giant, while we sweat and wilt.
When we hit our stride with work, no doubt that’s a gift from God. Work is good. When we’re in the zone (athletes) or the groove (musicians), glory is achieved. Occasionally we feel a plateau of satisfaction. How quickly it’s replaced with the hunger of “More!” or “Next!” That sounds like brokenness to me, and we need recognition that this side of heaven will include messy with our ambition. We then must own the fact that this world is not our final home. A favorite British theologian of mine, Nicky Gumbel says,
“You will face challenges in life. They will come in many forms: misunderstandings, disappointments, unfulfilled longings, doubts, trials, temptations, setbacks and satanic attacks. Success, too, can be a test. There is also pressure, suffering, sickness, bereavement, sorrow, trauma, tragedy, persecution and failure.”
Aw, how sweet… I think I’ll slit my wrist. But he’s right, and we need to hear it. We expect our ambition, dreams and hopes to result in a fairy-tale ending, particularly with our American lenses. When things go sour, our drive can push us harder to get back on track. Not sure that’s always what the Lord desires, particularly with scriptural gems like this from Psalm 46:9-10,
He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”
Maybe the best thing we can do is focus all our efforts on recognizing our place in the world. Surrender and humble ourselves to the reality of the pecking order, He’s God, we’re not. Make time to turn off the drive. Sit still, take several deep breaths, own who He is. Wake up the next day and repeat.
See ya next time. ML