There Is a Space

One tendency I have that gives me grief is when I act before I think—or (more accurately) feel. If I’m really angry, nine times out of ten I will say or do something I will later regret. If I make a mistake, I’ll likely go right into shame, which is an unproductive place to stay. 

Psychologist and Holocaust survivor, Dr. Viktor E. Frankl, who wrote, Man’s Search for Meaning, says:

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” 

This space may be just a fraction of a second, or longer. It may be the time it takes me to count to ten, take a couple of clearing breaths, or ask myself what would be the better way to behave. If I can push the pause button and widen the gap, I have more options. I have more freedom to choose. (See 2 Nephi 2:27.)

In his book, Permission to Feel, Marc Brackett, Ph.D. calls this the “Meta-Moment.” 

In simplest terms, it’s a pause. The meta-moment is you hitting the brakes and stepping out of time. We call it meta because it’s a moment about a moment.

It’s where we stop the action and say, “I need to take a pause and a deep breath right now so I don’t blow my top or break down sobbing or otherwise react in a way I will probably regret.”

Instinctively, we sense that this will help, and biology proves us right. Pausing and taking a deep breath activates the parasympathetic nervous system, which reduces the release of cortisol, the stress hormone, and automatically lowers our emotional temperature.

It also gives us the chance to quickly ask a few questions that might be useful, such as: “What would my best self do right now?” That ideal, hypothetical person is comprised of attributes we would use to describe our best selves from our own perspective and from the perspective others—how we’d like to be experienced, seen, or talked about. For some people it’s a set of adjectives like compassionate, empathic, or conscientious; for others it can be an image or an object. A good friend who is a manager at Facebook has a photo on her desk that reminds her to be her best self.

Visualizing our best-self redirects our attention away from the “trigger.” This helps us to choose a helpful emotion regulation strategy, like positive self-talk or reappraisal, and then respond accordingly.

I believe that the space between stimulus and response is where the Atonement of Christ can operate. When I’m in that space, if I will take a second and ask for His help, the enabling power of His grace can influence me to be better than what I could be in-and-of my own strength. It’s the difference between reacting and responding.

To be continued . . . with Part 69

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 67

Is Mortality a Hill or a Path?

As I usually do during General Conference, I listen for counsel that might help me deal with life in a less perfectionistic way. One illustration particularly stood out to me this time. In her talk, “Keep the Change,” Sister Becky Craven shared:

When I was younger, I visualized myself walking along an upward, vertical path toward my goal of eternal life. Each time I did or said something wrong, I felt myself sliding down the path, only to start my journey all over again. It was like landing on that one square in the children’s game Chutes and Ladders that slides you down from the top of the board back to the beginning of the game! It was discouraging!

This resonated with me so much, because I’ve felt the same way. It’s like life is a hill that I’m constantly climbing, try to get higher. When I make a mistake, I feel like I slide back down to the bottom of the hill and have to start all over. 

But as I’m getting healthier, I recognize that this is all-or-nothing thinking. I’m either climbing near the top or floundering at the bottom. This kind of  thinking is shame-based and perpetuates the idea that I’ll never make it. And it leaves no gray area for balance and acceptance of my mortality.

I once shared with a friend my feeling that I’m forever climbing a hill. He helped me to see a different metaphor that works much better. Instead of seeing life’s quest as climbing a hill, look at it as a path I’m on. If I stray from the path, I can just move back on. I don’t have to go all the way back to the beginning of the path and start over. When I think of my mistakes this way, I realize that I don’t need to beat myself up; I just need to move back over and onto the path. 

This is similar to an example told by Stephen R. Covey in his book “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Families”: 

It’s like the flight of an airplane. Before the plane takes off, the pilots have a flight plan. They know exactly where they’re going and start off in accordance with their plan. But during the course of the flight, wind, rain, turbulences, air traffic, human error, and other factors act upon that plane. They move it slightly in different directions so that most of the time that plane is not even on the prescribed flight path! Throughout the entire trip there are slight deviations from the flight plan. Weather systems or unusually heavy air traffic may even cause major deviations. But barring anything too major, the plane will arrive at its destination.

Now how does that happen? During the flight, the pilots receive constant feedback. They receive information from instruments which read the environment, from control towers, from other airplanes – even sometimes from the stars. And based on that feedback, they make adjustments so that time and time again they keep returning to the flight plan.

This way of seeing my personal growth gives me more hope. Being mortal, I will deviate from the path, but I can quickly repent and get back on track. 

To be continued . . . with Part 68

Be a Satisficer

You’re at a restaurant for dinner. You order a salad, and you’re asked what dressing you want. You ask what the options are.  Ranch, Thousand Island, Italian, French, Bleu Cheese, Raspberry Vinaigrette, Caesar, Cilantro Lime, Sesame Ginger, Honey Mustard, Mango, Catalina, Balsamic Vinaigrette, Vidalia Onion, Avocado Lime, Pomegranate Vinaigrette . . .  Are you happy that you have so many choices? What if they only had three choices? Ranch, Blue Cheese, and French. Do you feel less happy? How do you choose?  

In his book, The Paradox of Choice, Barry Schwartz claims that having more choices actually causes more stress, making it more difficult to choose. The more options we have, the more likely we are to make a mistake. And after we finally do choose, the possibility of other choices results in less happiness. An interesting paradox. 

Also, in this book, Schwartz puts people into two categories—Maximizers and Satisficers. Maximizers want to make the optimal decision. So if they see a pair of gloves or a used car that would seem to meet their requirements, they can’t make a decision until they have explored all of the options. Satisficers make a decision once their criteria are met. As soon as they find the flight, or the toothbrush, or the salad dressing that meets their needs, they’re satisfied.

Suppose that you’re shopping for a shirt. If you’re a Maximizer you’ll want to make the absolute best purchase possible. So you’ll go to several stores, examine the fit, style, color, and fabric of several options, always aware of the prices of these options.  

If you’re a Satisficer, you’ll go to one or two stores, look at the options, and pick one. And as long as it fits, looks relatively nice, and the price is reasonable, you’ll buy it.  

Who do you think is happier, the Maximizer, or the Satisficer? You might think the Maximizer is because he has put more effort into his choice. But research conducted by Schwartz and his colleagues show that Satisficers, as a group, are happier.  

As a perfectionist, I’m more inclined toward being a Maximizer. Because there are infinite possibilities out there, and only the best will do, I’m required to spend a lot of time on product comparison, both before and after I make a purchasing decision. In a world of endless choices, it’s arduous and emotionally exhausting to be a Maximizer, never settling for less. 

Knowing this about myself, I can make conscious efforts to allow myself to be satisfied when things are good enough. I can practice this when choosing what to eat for breakfast, what movie to watch, or any number of other decisions I face. Being satisfied with my choice gives me more time and energy to devote to enjoying life.

To be continued . . . with Part 67

The Light Grows Brighter

D&C 50:24 tells us: “That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day.”

I recently found a compelling parable.  I don’t know who the author is, but it illustrates how the light grows brighter and brighter as we progress.  

Imagine yourself in a room, a very dark room with only a small amount of light visible—just enough to make out the outlines of some furniture and the walls around you. You can tell the room is in disarray. There is a couch haphazardly shoved into a corner with the cushions spread everywhere on the floor. Two chairs are overturned and a table with some legs missing is lying upside down in the middle of the room. A floor lamp with its shade missing is propped diagonally against the wall. 

As you survey this scene, you hear a voice. And the voice says, “Clean the room.” So you get to work. You slide the couch against the wall and gather and replace all of its cushions. You set the chairs on their legs and move them to the other corners. You find the lampshade and place it on the floor lamp and set it upright. You determine that the table is unrepairable and throw it out of the room. Now, as you look around the room, you determine that it’s clean. So you call out to the voice saying, “The room is clean!” The voice responds, saying, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Your reward is more light. Clean the room again.” And with that, the room becomes a bit brighter. 

Now, with the added light, you can see things that you couldn’t see before. You notice that there is a lot of trash and paper on the floor. There is a picture upside down in the corner that you missed before, and the end of a rolled-up rug is poking out from under the couch. So you clean up the trash, hang the picture on the wall, and roll the rug out in the middle of the room and you say to yourself, “Well there, the room is clean.” Then you hear the voice which says, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Your reward is more light. Clean the room again.” And with that, more light brightens up the room. 

With the added light, you notice that the floor is covered in dirt, the chairs and couch are dusty, and the picture is hanging a little slanted on the wall. So you straighten the picture, sweep the floor, and dust all the furniture. Now you look around and say to yourself, “Surely, now the room is clean.” The voice responds, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Your reward is more light. Clean the room again.”  The lights come on even brighter than before. 

Now, you start to think about what more you could do. You think to yourself, “Well I could mop the floor and really make it shine. Those walls have a lot of smudges and dark spots on them; I’ll repaint them. I could vacuum the rug and perhaps I could reupholster the couch and repaint the chairs to match.” So you do all those things, and you call out to the voice, “The room is clean!” To which you hear the voice say “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Your reward is more light. Go and clean again.” 

Now, you wonder what more you can do, but then a thought strikes you. I could get a new table, those other walls could use some beautiful pictures, perhaps I could add a vase with flowers and perhaps some new chairs. And on and on this could go. Every time you report, you are given more light and told to clean again. Pretty soon you’re knocking out walls, and adding wood floors, and upgrading the rug and furniture. You are filled with a vision of what the room could someday be and you find fulfillment and purpose in adding to and improving it.  

When I initially read this parable, it triggered in me some perfectionism.  If I am never finished cleaning the room, then I can’t check it off on my list.  But actually, it illustrates very well the concept of eternal progression.  We grow gradually into Godhood, here a little and there a little.  My true goal is not really to clean a room, but to clean the inner vessel, as I become a new creature in Christ.  

To be continued . . . with Part 66

Negative Self-talk vs. Positive Affirmations

I can’t believe you said that! What on earth were you thinking? You’ll never get it right. What makes you think you can do that? You’re broken beyond repair! 

The inner critic—that nagging inner voice—judges, criticizes, and demeans me. Over time, it damages my self worth and takes a toll on my soul. This destructive chatter is fueled by shame and faulty core beliefs—ultimately by the enemy, the father of lies.  

To decipher the shaming lies of the adversary, we need to first come to identify our negative self-talk patterns. Once we recognize them, we can begin to disrupt them. When I perceive my thoughts going down unproductive roads, I can say aloud to myself, “Stop it! I don’t believe that!” Understanding how to counter the negative voice takes time and patience. 

Elder Jeffrey R Holland said: “Your most crucial challenge will be to believe that you can change, that there can be a different you. To disbelieve that is clearly a Satanic device designed to discourage and defeat you.”

On the other hand, we can change it up by talking back to the critic with positive truths. 

I used to have a list of affirmations I would recite each morning while in the shower. Periodically I would add another item to the bottom of the list. I had the list memorized and could get through it quite quickly. When I described it to a friend, she asked me if I believed the statements I spoke, or if it was just rote. I had to admit that it was mostly a routine that I needed to get through. It really just perpetuated an OCD-ish ritual. 

Later, I selected a few specific truths from my patriarchal blessing and from a powerful priesthood blessing. I learned to look at myself in the mirror and state with intent and conviction these well-chosen truths about myself. I knew these statements were true. The brain has the capacity to rewire itself based on new input. The more I experienced myself as good and valuable, the more I believed the affirmations I spoke. Positive affirmation is one of the components of faith. 

Again from Elder Holland: “The grace of Christ offers us not only salvation from sorrow and sin and death but also salvation from our own persistent self-criticism.”

I believe that the Lord will not sit idly by and let the enemy and his minions whisper lies into our minds without countering them. He and His ministering angels whisper uplifting, encouraging, inspiring assurances to us if we have ears to hear and open hearts. We can assist Him by speaking and believing what’s really true about ourselves. 

To be continued . . . with Part 65

The Chosen

One of my perfectionistic tendencies has been to see the Savior as unapproachable.  Because I’m not worthy or good enough, I can’t get close to Him.  

I recently watched the entire 1st season of The Chosen, a movie series based on the stories of those chosen to follow Jesus.  Initially, I didn’t agree with the portrayal of some of the characters.  But after the first few episodes, I noticed that it was starting to grow on me.  Especially the characterization of Jesus.  He was very human, but at the same time, divine.  He was able to laugh and dance, but He also cared deeply about others.  

When he looked at people, it was like He could see everything about them.  Even though his atonement was in the future, He seemed to know all about them—their struggles and challenges.  And he was full of mercy and compassion.  

I love how the series tells the backstory of each disciple.  Of necessity, some artistic license is employed, because we don’t really know what brought them to the point of following Jesus.  But the plots are believable and feel right.  

I don’t want to give away too much, in case you haven’t watched them.  I will just say that I was inspired and moved by what I saw and felt.  

The series is crowd-funded, so they aren’t dependent on Hollywood for funding; they don’t have to answer to any of the large production companies.  Hence, they can make the movies as gospel-filled as they want. 

I watched the first season free online.  I was so impressed that I made a donation to the cause.  I also purchased the DVD set of Season 1, which helps them fund Season 2.  I noticed at Deseret Book that the DVDs were in the #1 Bestseller spot on the shelf. 

So, this is a shameless plug for some media that is both entertaining and inspiring.  I have been brought closer to Jesus.  I feel His love more readily.  The walls are coming down.  I can come unto Christ and be perfected in Him.  

To be continued . . . with Part 64

Grace and Mental Health

I believe that perfectionism truly is a mental illness. It is faulty thinking, which leads to faulty believing. Can one’s religious upbringing contribute to perfectionism?  How can perfectionistic thinking affect my belief in grace? A recent study at BYU sheds some light on the subject.

The religious scholars—who conducted the study at BYU—found that religious young adults experience better or poorer mental health as it connects to their belief in grace or in legalism. They surveyed 566 young adults at BYU (most of whom are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) and found that when these young adults believe more in grace and less in legalism, they experience less anxiety, depression, shame, religious guilt, and perfectionism. They also found the opposite: When young adults have a more legalistic view of God, they experience poorer mental health “because it interrupts [their] ability to experience grace.” 

It may be detrimental to young adults’ mental health if their belief in grace is more founded upon individual good works (or legalism) than on grace they receive from God. 

Grace is a religious belief held by those of many faiths: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, and others. For many different religions, grace is a benevolent or divine influence acting upon individuals to give “spiritual enrichment or purity, to inspire virtue, or to give strength to endure trial and resist temptation.” Christians specifically believe grace is a direct gift from God given through Jesus Christ that is “bestowed freely and without regard to merit … which manifests in the giving of blessings and granting of salvation.”

The opposite of grace may be viewed as legalism. Legalism is a “strict, literal, or excessive conformity to the law or to a religious or moral code.” When someone believes in legalism, they may place their good works above the grace that is provided by God or divine influence. While many religious faiths require good works and grace for salvation, religions often have their own interpretations of this principle. 

Regarding grace, Elder M. Russell Ballard taught:
No matter how hard we work, no matter how much we obey, no matter how many good things we do in this life, it would not be enough were it not for Jesus Christ and His loving grace. On our own we cannot earn the kingdom of God, no matter what we do. Unfortunately, there are some within the Church who have become so preoccupied with performing good works that they forget that those works—as good as they may be—are hollow unless they are accompanied by a complete dependence on Christ.

Elder Ballard is speaking directly to me. I definitely have put more emphasis on obedience to rules and laws than on grace. I have sought to earn my way to heaven through a Pharisaic approach. 

I’ve recently tried to take a more balanced view. Grace is offered to me freely. I don’t need to earn it. It is a gift. Elder Dieter F Uchtdorf taught:
As we walk the path of discipleship, [God’s grace] refines us, it improves us, it helps us to become more like Him, and it leads us back to His presence. The Spirit of the Lord our God brings about such a mighty change in us, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually. Therefore, our obedience to God’s commandments comes as a natural outgrowth of our endless love and gratitude for the goodness of God. This form of genuine love and gratitude will miraculously merge our works with God’s grace.

Moroni admonishes us: Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him … that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ.

To be continued . . . with Part 63

That’s Not Fair!

I don’t know if this is a tendency of perfectionism or not.  But I have always had an acute sense of justice.  When I saw unfairness happen, my reaction was, “That’s not right!  That’s not fair!”  When I’ve expressed that to others, they are usually like: “You’re right, life’s nor fair.  Just buck up and deal with it.” 

So when I was watching a BYU-Idaho Devotional earlier this week, I heard some doctrine that resonated with me.  Elder Dale G. Renlund was speaking.  Here’s the part of his address that caught my attention and that I want to share: 

Unfairness is all around us and it is troubling. If we’re not careful, the appearance of unfairness may cause us to reject the favorable along with the unfavorable. Or to use an idiomatic expression, “to throw the baby out with the bathwater.” Perceived unfairness deals us a major body blow. 

Let me present several scriptural “baby/bathwater” scenarios.  

Was it fair that Abraham’s first child, Ishmael, did not receive the Abrahamic covenant, but that Isaac did? If it was unfair, did that unfairness invalidate the Abrahamic covenant that God made with Abraham and renewed with Isaac?  

Was it fair that only the descendants of Levi, the son of Jacob, held the priesthood, and others who were equally worthy (or perhaps even more worthy) did not? Does that unfairness change the reality of the priesthood that was conferred upon the Levites? 

Was it fair that Jesus Christ came to the House of Israel, and not to the Gentiles? Does that unfairness negate His divine Sonship and His infinite atonement? 

Despite the apparent unfairness, the Abrahamic Covenant is valid. The authority of the priesthood is real.  And Christ’s atoning sacrifice is authentic. 

The base isolator for unfairness is to develop faith in Jesus Christ and His atonement and understand how His atonement is applied to us. Faith and understanding help us recognize that all are alike unto Heavenly  Father and the Savior and that They love all of Heavenly Father’s children. And that They desire that all return to their heavenly home. 

Additionally, Jesus Christ understands perfectly what it is like to suffer innocently because of the world’s inherent unfairness or the inappropriate application of someone else’s agency, evilly intended, or not. We cannot teach Jesus Christ anything He doesn’t already know about unfairness. He was treated the most unfairly of any of Heavenly Father’s children. But He can teach us how to deal with it. 

This constantly reminds us that the Savior loves to restore what you cannot restore, He loves to heal wounds you cannot heal, He loves to fix what has been irreparably broken. He compensates for any unfairness inflicted on you, and He loves to permanently mend even shattered hearts. 

Remembering the goodness of God makes something remarkable happen. At a future day, the promise is that “God shall wipe away all their tears . . . and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away (Revelation 21:4).” 

C.S. Lewis wrote, in the foreword to his book, “The Great Divorce,” “[Mortals] say of some temporal suffering, ‘No future bliss can make up for it,’ not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory. The good man’s past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven. The Blessed will say ‘We have never lived anywhere except Heaven.’”

Let me pose three questions. 

First, does the fact that life is unfair to you or to others alter the reality of a kind, loving Heavenly Father, a living Christ, and the truthfulness of the First Vision and the restoration of the Savior’s gospel? 

Second, do the subsequent revelations through Joseph Smith and his successors and the promise of eventual eternal fairness help you cope with the unfairness of this fallen world? 

The third question, what personal habits can you develop that will help you develop and maintain strong faith in Jesus Christ and His atonement and His ultimate fairness? 

Our faith in Jesus Christ will allow us to remain standing and carry on despite the unfairness of life. However, you and I want to know how. How is God going to do that? To my knowledge, God hasn’t revealed how to his prophets, seers, and revelators. What I do know is that for us to demand to know how before we trust in Him and develop faith in His promises is misguided, and ignores what God told Isaiah about Himself: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9).” Let’s hold our questions for later and work on developing faith.

I know that I basically just copied and pasted this devotional talk for my blog post, but I loved this message.  And I love his reasoning.  Just because something is not fair, doesn’t mean it is not good and true.  And it increases my faith in the Savior to know that He will compensate for all the injustices of life.  All will be made right, eventually.  

To be continued . . . with Part 62

Let not your heart be . . . afraid

Jesus Christ taught his disciples:  Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. (John 14:27)  Of the last line of this scripture, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said:  I submit to you that may be one of the Savior’s commandments that is, even in the hearts of otherwise faithful Latter-day Saints, almost universally disobeyed.

The Lord doesn’t want us to let our hearts be troubled or afraid.  For a perfectionist, that’s easier said than done.  Fear is at the core of our struggle.  Fear of not being worthy of love or acceptance.  

Elder David A. Bednar taught:
As we consider so many of the things that are occurring all around us today, we could perhaps find ample reasons to be afraid, to hesitate, and to wonder if things in our lives can indeed turn out the way we have long hoped they would turn out.

To not take counsel from our fears simply means that we do not permit fear and uncertainty to determine our course in life, to affect negatively our attitudes and behavior, to influence improperly our important decisions, or to divert or distract us from all in this world that is virtuous, lovely, or of good report. 

To not take counsel from our fears means that faith in the Lord Jesus Christ overrules our fears and that we press forward with a steadfastness in Him. 

To not take counsel from our fears means that we trust in God’s guidance, assurance, and timing in our lives. 

I promise each of us can and will be blessed with direction, protection, and lasting joy as we learn to not take counsel from our fears. As we exercise faith in Christ and trust in His promises, we can walk into the dark with the absolute assurance that our pathway will be illuminated at least far enough to take the next step and then the next step and the next step.

Fear is one of the enemy’s greatest weapons.  And he’s wielding it with a vengeance right now in the world.  

When the Savior says, “my peace I give unto you,” he means it.  It’s a gift. You don’t need to earn it.  You just need to receive it.  And that’s a topic for another time.  

To be continued . . . with Part 61 

Losing Control

One of my perfectionistic tendencies is the need to be in control.  If I can just be very organized and control everything, then my life becomes more predictable and secure.  The problem with this kind of thinking is that life is messy. If I expect things to be smooth and manageable, I’ll be disappointed.  But that doesn’t stop me from the inclination to be a control freak.  

I’m currently studying the book, Get Your Life Back by John Eldredge.  Chapter 2 has an intriguing title: Benevolent Detachment.  Here’s an excerpt from that chapter: 

To make room for God to fill the vessel of our soul, we have to begin moving out some of the unnecessary clutter that continually accumulates there like the junk drawer in your kitchen. Everybody has a junk drawer, that black hole for car keys, pens, paper clips, gum, all the small flotsam and jetsam that accumulates over time. Our souls accumulate stuff, too, pulling it in like a magnet. And so Augustine said we must empty ourselves of all that fills us, so that we may be filled with what we are empty of.  Over time I’ve found no better practice to help clear out my cluttered soul than the practice of benevolent detachment. The ability to let it go, walk away—not so much physically but emotionally, soulfully.

Allow me to explain. We are aiming for release, turning into the hands of God whatever is burdening us and leaving it there. It’s so easy to get caught up in the drama in unhealthy ways, and then we are unable to see clearly, set boundaries, respond freely. When this happens in relationships, psychologists call it enmeshment.

Mature adults have learned how to create healthy distance between themselves and the thing they have become entangled with. Thus the word “detachment.” It means getting untangled, stepping out of the quagmire; it means peeling apart the velcro by which this person, relationship, crisis, or global issue has attached itself to you. Or you to it. Detachment means getting some healthy distance. Social media overloads our empathy. So I use the word “benevolent” in referring to this necessary kind of detachment because we’re not talking about cynicism or resignation. Benevolent means kindness. It means something done in love.

Jesus invites us into a way of living where we are genuinely comfortable turning things over to him: Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. (Matthew 11:28–30 The Message) [Art by Yongsung Kim]

Benevolent detachment takes practice. The One-Minute Pause is a good place to start. “I give everyone and everything to You, God. I give everyone and everything to You.” As you do this, pay attention—your soul will tell you whether or not you’re releasing. If the moment after you pray you find yourself mulling over the very thing you just released, you haven’t released it. Go back and repeat the process until it feels that you have. Begin there. 

Control results in loss of connection.  Control is supplementing safety. I have to be “in control” because things in my life are “out of control,” they are vulnerable and unknown.  Letting go is scary, uncomfortable. It requires trust and faith.  

I’m finding that when I give “everyone and everything” to God, I’m able to relinquish the angst.  I still care about those people and things, but in a less-worried way. When I place them in God’s hands and trust Him, I can channel my emotional energy in healthier directions.  And when I’m a healthier person, I show up for others in a healthier way—a more benevolent way.  

To be continued . . . with Part 60