When I think of Christmas, the first picture that comes into my mind is a candlelight church service when I was 5 years old. My mother is playing the organ. She is seated in the front of the church in an elevated position at the center of everything. I am trying my best to sit still with the other angels in the front pew so as not to knock off my halo. My sister has the serious look of a child with too much responsibility as she watches over the plastic baby Jesus. My brother saunters aimlessly down the aisle carrying one of the gifts of the Wise Men, with pubescent disinterest. His size 13 tennis shoes and white socks stick out from underneath his burgundy choir robe. My dad is sitting way in the back of the church and when the singing stops, to my mother’s horror, everyone hears him snoring.
I was always confused but curious about my mother’s sense of atonement to her Protestant Mid-Western church. For example, why did she play the organ every Sunday for over 30 years without missing even once? As a child, I wasn’t aware that the beliefs being passed down from the church were having such a strong influence in shaping my consciousness and life. What, you may ask, does a budding young feminist lesbian, growing up in a small rural farming community in the center of the country glean out of her early Christian indoctrination?
First and foremost, I learned to sacrifice myself. (My mother exemplified this virtue to the highest.) The more I made others happy and gave myself up, the better I was liked. Taking care of myself was considered selfish. The important thing was what others thought and needed. Many models showed me time and again how the less I knew about my feelings, the better I could tune into others’ needs.
This led to the next lesson: the necessity of being “nice”. Being nice was a requirement for girls and women. Boys and men appeared to have an entirely different value system and set of behaviors they seemed to follow. With my feelings squelched and my needs buried, I gave in and lived as a chameleon.
When I paid total attention to others, I received high praise. I began to believe that I could actually anticipate people’s needs before they knew they had them. I thought I could even read their minds. I became skilled at the fine art of being aware of everything that was going on with other people. On the one hand, the more I sacrificed myself, the more praise I received. This gave me the illusion of having power and worth. On the other hand, by giving myself up, my self-esteem did not develop identity, power, or worth.
I learned the seriousness of never telling anyone anything my family. This necessity of secrets created a gigantic chasm between my unknown inner life and the extreme focus on the external I was being taught. I knew from an early age that my belonging or being forever rejected by my family demanded meticulous diligence. The only outcome I could imagine if I wasn’t perfect with these expectations would be that my family or I would probably die. I could not take that risk.
The world felt too confining and oppressive for my young spirit. Rules, shame, guilt and belittling were the foundation of my life. I did not resonate with the teachings that had evolved from the religious doctrine that had become a way of life for my family and the community we lived in. They had been handed down from generation to generation without question. I became increasingly aware of how this way of living distanced people from themselves, each other and me. I was being weighed down by the burden of all this, believed I had no worth, felt belittled as a female and overpowered as a child.
Like most little Christian children, I associated Christmas with Santa Clause and getting presents. I made no connections with the birth of Jesus or even church as having any bearing on my holiday. I totally missed the essence this annual ritual had within the life of the church.
I was 5 years old and it was Christmas Eve. I was anxiously anticipating going to my aunt and uncle’s house for candy, presents and Santa. Everyone was getting ready to go to church. I did not want to go to church and try to sit still and keep my wings and halo intact. I didn’t want to put on a dress. The only thing that got me out of the house was being allowed to wear my red cowboy boots. “Why do we have to go to church tonight?” I asked. “For your mother”, my father replied, “We’ll go and have Christmas as soon as church is over.”
That night I had a full-blown experience of the shallowness and lie of Christmas. We finally got to my aunt’s house. I remember being upset after awhile when my father disappeared. I could tell many of the adults and older kids thought my distress was cute and funny. When Santa knocked on the door and came in wearing my father’s glasses, I was not fooled. I felt as though I had been punched in the stomach. I vividly remember this incident as the first time in my life I felt I had been lied to, betrayed and abandoned. I would not accept the present he offered me. I lost my Faith that night.
After that, I never trusted my family or the church again. Of course, I had to go through the motions in order to survive. My questions and doubts, that had no place in their world, became part of my secret inner life. In my sacred inner universe there was enormous potential for bigger beliefs, truth, total acceptance and unconditional love. So, at an early age I became a seeker. In hindsight, I am glad the unbearable tension existed because it makes me grateful now that I had enough tenacity and courage to walk away on my own path.
I was determined to sort out my own beliefs. I had no idea how long it would take me to dig deep enough to readjust the very dirt around the roots of those foundational beliefs, but my commitment was passionate and pure. After many years of searching, I realized that the majority of what I learned in my youth, including my choices, perceptions, values, and my ability to protect and take care of myself, were all distorted. This ingrained way of thinking had, in fact, created the unhealthy patterns that caused me the most difficult and pain in my adult life while challenging, testing and helping me grow.
It is no wonder that people feel so much stress around the holidays. Do we have to leave our healthy selves at home and act like our families think we should? Do we have to spend our holidays separated from our partners because of our families' unresolved feelings and judgmental attitudes? Do we have to lose our voices, ignore our feelings, have no needs, or pretend we are not ourselves?
I face the upcoming holiday with dragging feet. I feel it would be impossible for me now to re-create the outdated, unhealthy rituals from my childhood. I want to celebrate humanity and all the spiritual beliefs in the world. I want to joyously love with an open heart. I long to be with people who see, appreciate and enjoy me for who I am. I want to be with my partner, feeling relaxed and safe, knowing without a doubt we are not in an environment where people are pretending to accept and respect our relationship.
I want to take a walk in the snow, really experiencing the Spirit of the season. In the silence, when the moon reflects on the sparkling snow, in my lover’s smile, I need to be able to connect my inner essence with all that is. I want to forget everything I ever learned and abandon myself to the profound love that is Greater than me. Then, and only then, will I celebrate the true meaning of the holiday.
I intend to spend the entire season looking at the world through my own eyes. I want to listen to myself, stay true to my own beliefs, love and be loved, give and receive graciously. I look forward to being grateful and feeling the wonder of being alive. I want to experience the incredible abundance of joy and light that exists. I do not want to be worrying if my halo will fall off. It already has!
I was always confused but curious about my mother’s sense of atonement to her Protestant Mid-Western church. For example, why did she play the organ every Sunday for over 30 years without missing even once? As a child, I wasn’t aware that the beliefs being passed down from the church were having such a strong influence in shaping my consciousness and life. What, you may ask, does a budding young feminist lesbian, growing up in a small rural farming community in the center of the country glean out of her early Christian indoctrination?First and foremost, I learned to sacrifice myself. (My mother exemplified this virtue to the highest.) The more I made others happy and gave myself up, the better I was liked. Taking care of myself was considered selfish. The important thing was what others thought and needed. Many models showed me time and again how the less I knew about my feelings, the better I could tune into others’ needs.
This led to the next lesson: the necessity of being “nice”. Being nice was a requirement for girls and women. Boys and men appeared to have an entirely different value system and set of behaviors they seemed to follow. With my feelings squelched and my needs buried, I gave in and lived as a chameleon.
When I paid total attention to others, I received high praise. I began to believe that I could actually anticipate people’s needs before they knew they had them. I thought I could even read their minds. I became skilled at the fine art of being aware of everything that was going on with other people. On the one hand, the more I sacrificed myself, the more praise I received. This gave me the illusion of having power and worth. On the other hand, by giving myself up, my self-esteem did not develop identity, power, or worth.
I learned the seriousness of never telling anyone anything my family. This necessity of secrets created a gigantic chasm between my unknown inner life and the extreme focus on the external I was being taught. I knew from an early age that my belonging or being forever rejected by my family demanded meticulous diligence. The only outcome I could imagine if I wasn’t perfect with these expectations would be that my family or I would probably die. I could not take that risk.
The world felt too confining and oppressive for my young spirit. Rules, shame, guilt and belittling were the foundation of my life. I did not resonate with the teachings that had evolved from the religious doctrine that had become a way of life for my family and the community we lived in. They had been handed down from generation to generation without question. I became increasingly aware of how this way of living distanced people from themselves, each other and me. I was being weighed down by the burden of all this, believed I had no worth, felt belittled as a female and overpowered as a child.
Like most little Christian children, I associated Christmas with Santa Clause and getting presents. I made no connections with the birth of Jesus or even church as having any bearing on my holiday. I totally missed the essence this annual ritual had within the life of the church.
I was 5 years old and it was Christmas Eve. I was anxiously anticipating going to my aunt and uncle’s house for candy, presents and Santa. Everyone was getting ready to go to church. I did not want to go to church and try to sit still and keep my wings and halo intact. I didn’t want to put on a dress. The only thing that got me out of the house was being allowed to wear my red cowboy boots. “Why do we have to go to church tonight?” I asked. “For your mother”, my father replied, “We’ll go and have Christmas as soon as church is over.”
That night I had a full-blown experience of the shallowness and lie of Christmas. We finally got to my aunt’s house. I remember being upset after awhile when my father disappeared. I could tell many of the adults and older kids thought my distress was cute and funny. When Santa knocked on the door and came in wearing my father’s glasses, I was not fooled. I felt as though I had been punched in the stomach. I vividly remember this incident as the first time in my life I felt I had been lied to, betrayed and abandoned. I would not accept the present he offered me. I lost my Faith that night.
After that, I never trusted my family or the church again. Of course, I had to go through the motions in order to survive. My questions and doubts, that had no place in their world, became part of my secret inner life. In my sacred inner universe there was enormous potential for bigger beliefs, truth, total acceptance and unconditional love. So, at an early age I became a seeker. In hindsight, I am glad the unbearable tension existed because it makes me grateful now that I had enough tenacity and courage to walk away on my own path.
I was determined to sort out my own beliefs. I had no idea how long it would take me to dig deep enough to readjust the very dirt around the roots of those foundational beliefs, but my commitment was passionate and pure. After many years of searching, I realized that the majority of what I learned in my youth, including my choices, perceptions, values, and my ability to protect and take care of myself, were all distorted. This ingrained way of thinking had, in fact, created the unhealthy patterns that caused me the most difficult and pain in my adult life while challenging, testing and helping me grow.
It is no wonder that people feel so much stress around the holidays. Do we have to leave our healthy selves at home and act like our families think we should? Do we have to spend our holidays separated from our partners because of our families' unresolved feelings and judgmental attitudes? Do we have to lose our voices, ignore our feelings, have no needs, or pretend we are not ourselves?
I face the upcoming holiday with dragging feet. I feel it would be impossible for me now to re-create the outdated, unhealthy rituals from my childhood. I want to celebrate humanity and all the spiritual beliefs in the world. I want to joyously love with an open heart. I long to be with people who see, appreciate and enjoy me for who I am. I want to be with my partner, feeling relaxed and safe, knowing without a doubt we are not in an environment where people are pretending to accept and respect our relationship.
I want to take a walk in the snow, really experiencing the Spirit of the season. In the silence, when the moon reflects on the sparkling snow, in my lover’s smile, I need to be able to connect my inner essence with all that is. I want to forget everything I ever learned and abandon myself to the profound love that is Greater than me. Then, and only then, will I celebrate the true meaning of the holiday.
I intend to spend the entire season looking at the world through my own eyes. I want to listen to myself, stay true to my own beliefs, love and be loved, give and receive graciously. I look forward to being grateful and feeling the wonder of being alive. I want to experience the incredible abundance of joy and light that exists. I do not want to be worrying if my halo will fall off. It already has!
No comments:
Post a Comment