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| Liberty Park - Salt Lake City Utah |
Part 2
Moving forward two days; Independence Day! My recent experiences still never too far from my thoughts, I attended two family functions; my own and that of my dearest friend. I took great satisfaction enjoying the diversity of personalities. Some call the quirky jostling "dysfunction" and "harmful." I imagine unchecked it could be. It certainly isn't always easy but difficulty isn't a reliable measure of harmfulness.
When we are injured and suffering either emotionally or physically, our ability to recognize and appreciate the miracle of family is often tremendously diminished. Patience and understanding are always the first to be sacrificed in such situations. I am all too guilty of this and know this to be true.
I know my family... and in optimal condition, I understand and appreciate them the way they should. This holiday was nearly optimal for me. I so enjoyed their company. Yet, as we said our goodbyes, I regret not all of us were feeling optimal and a poor choice of words set into motion hurt and suffering. I left beleaguered; not knowing how to help make things right.
Then something extraordinary happened. For maybe the first time, I found myself in a very familiar setting; comfortably enjoying family... but not my family. I'm usually quiet and shy and maybe, to a certain degree, I still was but I experienced something unique... at least to me. I noticed a familiar dynamic. The players were different yet they shared the same identical personality characteristics I grew up with in my family... except there, they were totally redistributed as if like a deck of cards where they were shuffled and all dealt new hands. I could see aspects of my parents, sisters, brother, nieces and nephews all represented in unique combinations. The reactions and interactions played out in familiar ways... right down to the moments of hurt and suffering.
I think what was so extraordinary about the experience was which personalities acted and reacted. Like watching a familiar movie shot from completely different angles, it provided some much needed insight into the inner-workings of my own family because I wasn't emotionally vested in any of the outcomes. Too often we take for granted our abilities to weather criticisms and judgements. Too often we take for granted our abilities to read and anticipate the moods and reactions of those so near and dear to us.
Our most intimate relationships are our families. They are both the safest and most dangerous of all relationships in an emotional sense due to their profound nature. Mormon doctrine teaches we foresaw our lives, our living conditions, our life companions, and we "lept for joy" in anticipation for our earthly existence. I share that belief. But I also have the nagging suspicion that these intimate relationships we call family are far far more complex and older than we dare imagine.
I believe in a cyclical process of life and learning where we live again and again until all of life's lessons are learned; perhaps not reincarnation in the common sense but something. Those we know as family follow us from probation to probation. We continue to play profound roles in each others lives... because we have unique lessons to learn from one another. Our bond truly is eternal.
Popular psychology likens healthy living to cleaning out one's garage. In their opinion, it is a garage filled with the junk of our own making where choice pieces may be dusted off and repurposed but the majority of seemingly broken and useless trash should be quickly and unceremoniously tossed in the garbage and carted off for disposal. Some even espouse, for the sake of a clean garage, to just torch it and all its contents and move on rebuilding a new garage without looking back.
I view my garage differently. It's something inherited where I was promised I could find all the needed tools and supplies for successful and healthy living. Sure, I may have added a few things in my time as owner... the dust bunnies, a few discarded burrito wrappers and the occasional cup and straw but the shelves remain relatively untouched. You see, the previous owner was something of a MacGyver. In his case, he had eons of creative experience and an intimate knowledge of who I am. Turns out those shelves of seemingly eclectic trash aren't worthless after all... and the act of sorting and cataloguing the multifarious collection provides me with the increased ability to respond effectively and creatively to all of life's challenges.
Our families, for good and especially bad, help us learn to respond effectively and creatively to life's ups and downs if we but take the time to properly sort and catalogue. We glean real experience and practical knowledge from the high pressure interactions of such an intimacy that only family can provide. Only then will we not take for granted those tools and supplies we were given. It is a difficult task that takes a lifetime of struggle... with no hope of complete success.
In short, we inherit a pile of junk from our parents. Spend a lifetime trying to sort it all out. Then end up passing it on to the next generation. Like it or not, this is the beauty and continuity of cyclical progression.
Then something extraordinary happened. For maybe the first time, I found myself in a very familiar setting; comfortably enjoying family... but not my family. I'm usually quiet and shy and maybe, to a certain degree, I still was but I experienced something unique... at least to me. I noticed a familiar dynamic. The players were different yet they shared the same identical personality characteristics I grew up with in my family... except there, they were totally redistributed as if like a deck of cards where they were shuffled and all dealt new hands. I could see aspects of my parents, sisters, brother, nieces and nephews all represented in unique combinations. The reactions and interactions played out in familiar ways... right down to the moments of hurt and suffering.
I think what was so extraordinary about the experience was which personalities acted and reacted. Like watching a familiar movie shot from completely different angles, it provided some much needed insight into the inner-workings of my own family because I wasn't emotionally vested in any of the outcomes. Too often we take for granted our abilities to weather criticisms and judgements. Too often we take for granted our abilities to read and anticipate the moods and reactions of those so near and dear to us.
Our most intimate relationships are our families. They are both the safest and most dangerous of all relationships in an emotional sense due to their profound nature. Mormon doctrine teaches we foresaw our lives, our living conditions, our life companions, and we "lept for joy" in anticipation for our earthly existence. I share that belief. But I also have the nagging suspicion that these intimate relationships we call family are far far more complex and older than we dare imagine.
I believe in a cyclical process of life and learning where we live again and again until all of life's lessons are learned; perhaps not reincarnation in the common sense but something. Those we know as family follow us from probation to probation. We continue to play profound roles in each others lives... because we have unique lessons to learn from one another. Our bond truly is eternal.
Popular psychology likens healthy living to cleaning out one's garage. In their opinion, it is a garage filled with the junk of our own making where choice pieces may be dusted off and repurposed but the majority of seemingly broken and useless trash should be quickly and unceremoniously tossed in the garbage and carted off for disposal. Some even espouse, for the sake of a clean garage, to just torch it and all its contents and move on rebuilding a new garage without looking back.
I view my garage differently. It's something inherited where I was promised I could find all the needed tools and supplies for successful and healthy living. Sure, I may have added a few things in my time as owner... the dust bunnies, a few discarded burrito wrappers and the occasional cup and straw but the shelves remain relatively untouched. You see, the previous owner was something of a MacGyver. In his case, he had eons of creative experience and an intimate knowledge of who I am. Turns out those shelves of seemingly eclectic trash aren't worthless after all... and the act of sorting and cataloguing the multifarious collection provides me with the increased ability to respond effectively and creatively to all of life's challenges.
Our families, for good and especially bad, help us learn to respond effectively and creatively to life's ups and downs if we but take the time to properly sort and catalogue. We glean real experience and practical knowledge from the high pressure interactions of such an intimacy that only family can provide. Only then will we not take for granted those tools and supplies we were given. It is a difficult task that takes a lifetime of struggle... with no hope of complete success.
In short, we inherit a pile of junk from our parents. Spend a lifetime trying to sort it all out. Then end up passing it on to the next generation. Like it or not, this is the beauty and continuity of cyclical progression.
"If you don't have the right equipment for the job, you just have to make it yourself."
~ MacGyver
