Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 3

Follow-Through

As I assist my clients, one of the main things I find myself doing is making note of what sorts of things are piling up, and why.

A big pattern I am seeing emerge is a lack of follow-through.

For most of us, a common pattern looks like this: we come in the door with an arm full of stuff and set in on the first available surface. Then we might run immediately to the bathroom or answer a call or text (or both at the same time), or respond to a pet or child or spouse, or otherwise rush to prepare for the next obligation in our overly busy day.  And while we intend to follow through on the mail sorting, and/or putting away the shopping, and/or putting away the random possessions that are returning to the house, we actually rarely get back to putting away that latest pile of stuff lying on whatever surface is nearest the door.

This is such a common dynamic for my clients, I am now surprised when I enter a home and don't find the inevitable pile of unprocessed mail, flotsam, and jetsam somewhere near the main entrance.  It takes mindfulness and a certain amount of self-discipline to return and process those things, and honestly, most of us don't often have the disposable time.

For myself, I have had to build into my expectations and time-budgeting the intention to process all that stuff shortly after getting home, and slowly this behavior is becoming a habit. Instead of shifting into the next gear the minute I get in the door, I choose to stay with all the things I've just brought in the door until they are all processed. Mail gets sorted into instant recycling, instant shredding, and the place on my desk where bills and such go to await my desk time. Groceries and shopping items get put all the way away including all the bags and receipts.

Done. All done.  It is a wonderful new pattern.

There are always days when I get distracted or way-laid or am short on time. Those days I often walk into our kitchen later in the day to find unprocessed stuff still sitting on the table.  Of course, there are those days!  But building the habit and intending to maintain it helps me reduce their number a great deal. (Also, we live in a tiny space, and there simply is no spare flat surface for dumping. We NEED the kitchen table for too many uses, so we have to keep an eye on the secondary dumping spots as well, which have a tendency to collect items moved quickly off the table. These locations---that space between the books and the next shelf, that corner of the desk in the next room---can collect unprocessed junk just as fast as any primary dumping spot. But the complete shortage of space certainly encourages better habits in managing the little we do have.)

This lack of follow-through can show up with dishes sitting in or near the sink, with laundry on the floor or near the laundry basket, with piles of items near the stairs waiting to go up or down (which we pass repeatedly without actually bringing them along). We have the intention to be tidier.  But we are missing some key step between our intention and our actual follow-through.  All too often the lack of follow-through results in a mound of neglected tasks still awaiting our attention. And as that mound grows to a mountain, the very size itself becomes a deterrent.

I don't think the lack of follow-through is necessarily laziness.  I think sometimes it is fueled by a habit of rushing, or perhaps it is some rebellious "I don't want to" left over from childhood.  Sometimes when I walk in the door, my brain decides I am "done" and I go straight to resting or playing, forgetting to finish the final steps of returning---the equivalent of the child repeatedly dropping the coat on the floor (though at age 57 I do at least hang up my coat). It is certainly a lack of mindfulness---not an immoral thing per se, but not something that benefits me either.  My auto-pilot just isn't very enlightened and I am often quite simply tired.

And yet it is when I am tired that staying present and completing the tasks of follow-through feel spiritual. Not only does it take mindful presence and a kind of surrender, but it also requires that I refuse to rush and to give my future self the gift of a clean and completed space.

There is some connection between good personal self-care and good care of our spaces. It is not linear or pure or black and white. Beautiful, wise, and creative people can be found inhabiting all sorts of spaces, from the very chaotic to the very ordered.

But for me, there is something spiritual about taking care of my surroundings, be they mine or simply a public washroom I may use. It feels like respect and care for the next person to enter the space.  It is an act of care for my future self at home and an act of care for some traveler whom I may never meet in the public space. They are connected for me. It is a way of living the Golden Rule, to show respect for the one who will follow me. It makes my soul feel good.

Follow-through. That thing the gym teacher harped on about. It turns out it is important in all parts of life, not just tennis or baseball.  Even if you are not interested in leaving the public washroom cleaner than you found it, do your own self the service of following through on intended tasks at home promptly. Don't leave them until "later" unless you are actually good at returning and finishing the job in a reasonable amount of time. (Several weeks is not a reasonable amount of time.)

And as you succeed and fail and succeed again, be kind to yourself.  This stumbling and wavering and returning to the plan again and again is exactly what the process looks like.

For the other entries in this series, see below.

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 1

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 2

"Theodicy" (Theo-what?) - Sunday's discussion

"Theodicy"  (Theo-what?)

Church was cancelled AGAIN.

The ice made the roads too treacherous for our guest speaker, Rev Dr Reuben Bell, to make it up to us to preach.  So church was cancelled, and I was prepared to sit alone in the church with candles and Gregorian chant playing on the stereo, and praying.

Well it turns out that since worship had been cancelled the two previous Sundays, the longing for spiritual community won the day for several locals plus two not-so-locals!  As we had such a small community and no organist, I opted for a gentle discussion group with the seven of us.

I opened the Word, led us in prayer, read a little Scripture, and then after a few other discussion points, opened up the topic, "Why does God let bad things happen to good people?"

In case anyone cares, that HUGE spiritual question is called the question of "Theodicy," which is the attempt to understand how God can be good and yet there is so much evil in the world.



So we reviewed some of the ways people answer this question. (Note:  This is the way PEOPLE answer this question.  These are not necessarily "right" answers.)  Each one of us must answer this for ourselves and we often travel around between these or combine two or three as we struggle to make sense of this question.

1. God sends bad things as a punishment for sin. 
2. God sends bad things to test our character, or to show us what we are capable of
3. God allows bad things to happen because we need to learn something.
4. Bad stuff just happens and God isn't all that involved down at our level.
5. There is no God.
6. God doesn't cause evil nor prevent evil, but is right there with us walking through the suffering.  God's job is not to protect us from bad things happening to us but to be with us even in the heart of them.

We looked at each "solution" and reflected on the different ideological landing places.  I talked about some of the psychological underpinnings of these various solutions,  with each one making sense when we understand the sort of thinking or perspective that drives it.  

1. For example, deciding that God is punishing us for our sin comes from the sort of reasoning that causes a child to think they caused their parents' divorce.  It is connected to a feeling of dependency and powerlessness. We feel powerless in the face of the tragedy and want some sense of control.  We decide either God is Bad or we are, and the idea that God is evil is just too terrifying, because then we would be utterly helpless in a hostile universe.  In this case it is more comforting to think that we are to blame.  Because if we are to blame, we can maybe do something to make things better.  We still have agency---we still can have a way to put things right.  

2.  "God sends bad things to test us or show us what we are capable of."  We leaned more towards the "help us see what we can do" idea than the "God is testing us" idea.  (Besides, an omniscient God wouldn't need to test us.  And God is not passive aggressive, and does not need to grade us nor to create martyrs.)

3.  "God allows bad things to teach us something."  At least one member liked this one.  I certainly have heard such sentiments as, "I wish I would learn what I need to learn from this so it would pass."   Notice that the idea of "needing to learn something" gives us a feeling of some control in a tough situation.  In that case, if we just "learn" whatever it is we need to learn, the bad situation would go away, right?  I knew someone with a chronic illness who said fairly often, "I guess I haven't learned what I need to learn yet." Certainly all sorts of good learning and good secondary experiences (human compassion, human cooperation) can happen around and in the wake of tragedy.  But I am not sure that our learning is ever the primary reason God would allow our suffering.  

4.  "Bad stuff just happens."  God neither causes it nor prevents it.  This answer lets God at least be neutral, if a bit detached from human affairs.  This God has left us on our own, or has different priorities than we do. (Some could argue that this is a typical Swedenborgian conclusion, if we read only the passages that say that God doesn't pay attention to any temporal affairs unless they have a direct impact on our eternal well-being.  It does not take into account the numbers that say that God is aware and present in even the least moment of our lives, guiding and guarding while leaving us in spiritual freedom. Putting these teachings together implies that our perspective on tragedy and suffering and what is allowable is different than that of God's; meanwhile God cares deeply and is intimately present with us in our suffering.  This leads to 6.) 

5.  There is no God.  This is a common and understandable landing place for many of us in the face of deep suffering.  Please don't judge such a person. (To blame someone for losing their faith as a result of terrible loss and pain is just adding insult to injury.)  When one must choose between an incomprehensible, uncaring God or no God at all, many choose "no God."  Until one can see another option, "God cares and helps but doesn't always stop tragedy," the "no God" option makes perfect sense. 

6.  God is present with us in the suffering and carries us through.  God's job is not to protect us from earthly hardships, but to walk with us through them.  There are reasons this conclusion satisfies many theologians and pastors, though it can be small comfort to the one in the depth of suffering. We can remember that Jesus did not protect himself from horrible suffering, but walked all the way through it, even to the point of feeling abandoned by God and a slow agonizing death.  He braved the whole experience without sparing himself one bit, as a way to show he is willing to come with us into the very worst of human suffering, and as a way of saying there is something more beyond.

However, when someone you love is suffering, the best thing you can do is be with them, and ask them what they need.  If chaplaincy training taught me anything at all (and I still often need reminders of this, because the urge to offer comforting words can be so strong) it is the value of the ministry of presence.  What most folks need in the heart of a crisis is company more than quotes, a steady presence, rather than platitudes.  Just be there. Just stand by them. Words are not as necessary as you might think.

Well, this summary of our discussion has turned into a mini sermon.  I have shared some extra things here and skipped some others.  I hope we all came away with new tools and ideas to support us in living into this profound question.

We wrapped up our discussion and shared an amazing tea hour (no coffee).  And we sent each other off with love and wishes for safe travels.

And I will leave it on that sentiment.  Life can be slippery and uncertain sometimes.  May we all go carefully.  And when the worst happens to one of us, may we all take extra good care of each other, and the bruised one most of all.

Blessings,
Pastor Alison