My friend Brian's post from the other day, Brutal Honesty, and the link there, started me thinking about why I blog. It made me realize that there remain people out there who think what they write is private. How is that possible? If we post something in a public forum, we can't expect to have private treatment. I have no idea who reads my ramblings other than the few of you who comment, and I assume more people read than comment. Maybe even my boss. Or an ex-boyfriend. Should I be mad at my annonymous readers? No. Should I be surprised when people I vaguely know talk to me about my posts? No. Should I try to keep my identity a secret? Again, no.
So why do I blog? It's all part of my effort to let people into my life, as I discussed in my last post. Over the last couple years, I've realized how much I need to work on speaking my internal dialogue aloud. I have a lot of conversations in my head and I often forget that people can't read my mind. Or I've thought about something so much, I don't realize I never acutally said anything.
That's it. This blog is part of my effort to let friends and family know about how and what I think - to an extent. I have a private journal that isn't published online and I exercise a lot of self-censorship regarding what is published. I realize that if I totally expose myself to the world I have to deal with the consequences. Just like I don't tell anyone who asks that I'm really not fine, I don't broadcast to the world all of my feelings and thoughts online. It's naive to think everyone cares.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
Invitation to a Beheading
I just finished reading Invitation to a Beaheading by Vladimir Nabokov for my book club. What a strange story! Here's the quick summary: The main character, Cincinnatus C., is jailed and sentenced to be beheaded. His crime is that he's different from everyone else. The entire story is surreal; the officials are strangely polite, his fellow prisoner is intent on being friends, the clock on the wall has painted hands that the official repaints every hour, there are several out of body experiences and so on.
Cincinnatus is convinced that he sees things the way they really are, but no one else in the story listens to him. They are so wrapped up in the make-believe world that to question the perceived reality is equal to a death sentence; Cincinnatus is the perfect example. Eventually, it is not even worth his energy to keep fighting the facade; he just turns in on himself, hopeless, awaiting execution. The strangest part is, everyone else is preoccupied with politeness and form - they are very solicitous of Cincinnatus and expect the same consideration in return.
The comment on our society is striking. So often we are concerned with how we do things that the purpose behind the actual task or relationship or whatever is forgotten. In the story, the executioner is concerned about making Cincinnatus feel good about his execution. Cincinnatus is expected to be gracious and "play his part" to make the production a success. Isn't that what we do all the time? If someone hurts me, it is easier to cover up my feelings and show the world that I'm okay and I'm expected to "play along" with a casual apology.
This is why I love following Jesus. He doesn't want me to be fake and chastises me when I am. There is no room in Christian living for a spiritual facade. There's a word for that - hypocrisy. One of the hardest parts of following Jesus is getting past the lies I tell myself. Things like "it's okay to lie about what I think in order to avoid offending someone" or "It's okay to smile and nod at church for 3 hours and never really connect with another person". I decided several years ago that I need to live a transparent life, meaning this: If I don't open up to people about how I feel and what is important to me, they can't care for me. I want people to care about me. And I've found that when they care about me, it is natural for me to respond in kind. So following the example of Jesus, I try to make relationships, even messy or inconvenient ones, a priority. Since I'm an introvert, I'm not very good at it!
Invitation to a Beheading ends with Cincinnatus lying on the executioner block when his world starts fading away - literally growing smaller and smaller until people are a mere nuisance and the ax has no ability to chop. He hears voices of "people like him" and he stands up, walking toward them. I suppose that's what we each have to do: refuse to play along with the facade until it fades away. What's left is the truth: people like us.
Cincinnatus is convinced that he sees things the way they really are, but no one else in the story listens to him. They are so wrapped up in the make-believe world that to question the perceived reality is equal to a death sentence; Cincinnatus is the perfect example. Eventually, it is not even worth his energy to keep fighting the facade; he just turns in on himself, hopeless, awaiting execution. The strangest part is, everyone else is preoccupied with politeness and form - they are very solicitous of Cincinnatus and expect the same consideration in return.
The comment on our society is striking. So often we are concerned with how we do things that the purpose behind the actual task or relationship or whatever is forgotten. In the story, the executioner is concerned about making Cincinnatus feel good about his execution. Cincinnatus is expected to be gracious and "play his part" to make the production a success. Isn't that what we do all the time? If someone hurts me, it is easier to cover up my feelings and show the world that I'm okay and I'm expected to "play along" with a casual apology.
This is why I love following Jesus. He doesn't want me to be fake and chastises me when I am. There is no room in Christian living for a spiritual facade. There's a word for that - hypocrisy. One of the hardest parts of following Jesus is getting past the lies I tell myself. Things like "it's okay to lie about what I think in order to avoid offending someone" or "It's okay to smile and nod at church for 3 hours and never really connect with another person". I decided several years ago that I need to live a transparent life, meaning this: If I don't open up to people about how I feel and what is important to me, they can't care for me. I want people to care about me. And I've found that when they care about me, it is natural for me to respond in kind. So following the example of Jesus, I try to make relationships, even messy or inconvenient ones, a priority. Since I'm an introvert, I'm not very good at it!
Invitation to a Beheading ends with Cincinnatus lying on the executioner block when his world starts fading away - literally growing smaller and smaller until people are a mere nuisance and the ax has no ability to chop. He hears voices of "people like him" and he stands up, walking toward them. I suppose that's what we each have to do: refuse to play along with the facade until it fades away. What's left is the truth: people like us.
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