The Invitation

I googled the definition of the word "question", and one of the definitions in the verb tense of the word is: "to examine (a witness, for example) by questioning, interrogate." There was a link to the meaning of 'ask'- and one definition there was: "to invite".

How often do we ask questions that matter? And how often to we wage what the value some relationships have in our lives against the pursuit of more in conversation?

Questions. I have this friend in my life who has this way of asking me questions that stir the pot. The points are made, and the insight is given- but the places this friend takes me in my heart and mind are rather uncharted. It's not like I never thought something all the way through, or that they (the actual probe) are brilliant and call me to dark hidden places I've never ventured. The fact is, the places are not all that hidden and the questions aren't always brilliant-sometimes they are just invitations. They invite myself to a different place, a different point of view, and they begin the process of articulation. They stir thoughts and feelings about whatever the topic is that we're addressing in conversation--but what do they leave when I walk away? You know, besides the inevitable vulnerability and nakedness of exposing my heart, I know that one thing that I am left with is the accountability to the darkness. The truth of the matter, what lingers beyond the surface...it doesn't matter what the friend thought my answer would be compared to what my response actually was. There is a light that is turned on. A different journey in awareness in initiated. 

Who in  your life pursues you in conversation in such a way you can't escape them? In turn, you aren't really connecting them to you by being vulnerable, what you are really doing is beginning the process of connecting yourself to your inner dialogue, and getting that out of your being. The accountability begins in the articulation- to be better then your feelings, to get them out of your heart and into the air...and not that the words will magically change the circumstance or that the conversation alone will ease hurts or pains...but something changes-and often times what changes is significant.

I have noticed this in myself the past few months. In traveling and being in and out of the home there are a thousand questions that are asked in my first few days of being home, for example:

"How was Gracie?"

"Did they come and fix that?

"When will we see each other?"

They cover the bases and start the process of connecting us to each other. After all the surface topics are covered then the opportunity to go deeper develops--typically with "How are you with that? How do you feel about that? Really, how do you really feel?" It is impossible for me to avoid the ever present question of my life "Now that you are back from Thailand, what is next? Employment? Where? How are you feeling about that?"

The strangest thing about all of those things is that I know that my answers are often short and not substantial. I turn that table very quickly and ask you how you are- I make it possible for you to vent, talk about your life and I think somewhere in there the places in my heart that I challenge in my solo travel start to hide, I focus on you more...and I lose part of myself. 

I have always been the 'therapist'. It is a role I gladly take on, and can fill with purpose and objectivity. Sometimes people can't stand this part of who I am, but for the most part its just one of the gifts the Lord has given me. I try my best to be compassionate and to be honest with my friends and family about my point of view, although its difficult to not be Miss Judgemental or Put Together...because nothing could be further from the truth. I have been this way for as long as I can remember and often times I thought about pursuing a Doctorate in Psychology because of the role I tend to play in my friendships. I am lucky that despite this particular trait I have, that I have some amazing friends in my life that I am cared and loved for by well. I think I have noticed though the comfort I take in having this purpose, how being someone that everyone can talk to about their struggles has left little opportunity for me to be the one vulnerable at the table. 

How many people can say that they know me? How many people can I say that I have let in? How long is it going to take for that to change? How many people do we allow ourselves to be invited to be more with? Do we recognize the friend that stops by in a moment and asks us about our day? Do we take that and desire more then just talking about the weather? Do we ache for something bigger? Do we find comfort in having as few people as possible know what we are struggling with? Do we think that life would be better or different if someone pursued us and asked us things that matter?

After all this coming and going and all the hours in travel I have spent so much time on my own. I have enjoyed the experience of independence and freedom. I have loved the people watching and encounters with strangers. Was part of it the comfort of not being the therapist? Was there comfort in having time to spend with just me, just my thoughts, just my dreams, and just my struggles? Was getting away more about seeing what was out there? Or was it about finding myself without distraction in the scenery and culture of new places? 

I want desperately to connect myself to more. I want to know that at the end of the day that I am someone who matters and that is  more then just a sounding board. I don't want to say this outloud because I fear people will close up and change. I had an experience with a friend like that. I wanted a more balanced friendship, and pointed a light on that- and while they changed and invested in me a different way, there was a slow death to them. They started closing up. and they started pulling away. It was so slow that I didn't even notice it at first, I just felt so content in having someone to share my real self, real life, real joy and struggles with. I felt sad that as I connected the dots the past was illuminated with opportunities I knew that something was off but didn't say anything. My point is not that I don't want to be the person that my friends  seek to talk to, or that they would not ask me for my point of view. I want to share it, I care about my friendships and their lives so of course I want to share what I think: I'm outspoken. 

I think my point really is that we all want the invitation. We all want to be cared for and pursued. We are all broken and we are all hurting. We all live our lives doing the status quo and moving a million miles per hour and we rarely stop. Even in my adventure of travel, I kept this ridiculous pace that astonishes me now that I was able to keep it up! In community of friends we want to know that we matter, and we want to know that we are going to be cared for and loved. My epiphany is that the community that I love and I am active in needs to be better...and remaining in the role I both create for myself and am given the opportunity to live in I don't allow much room for my answers to be heard. I don't leave much of myself on the table, I take on what everyone gives me...and I keep moving. I instead find myself thinking things through on piers, beaches, airplanes, and trains. 

So, this friend that stirs the pot? They will continue to do so. I will continue to answer, freak out, grow and be vulnerable. I will continue to trust that my answers are accepted and are going to be kept safe...and that getting myself out of myself will create a lighter burden, because we are all in this together. And this friendship that I wanted to more of a two way street and in turn they started listening and started silencing themselves? Well, I will try to ask my questions, and I will try to facilitate a balance. No one wants to be the needy one in a two person equation. But I think sometimes to get through to what waits for us in life the balancing act has to be perfected, the dance needs to be choreographed, and most of all- we have to invite. We have to invite the opportunity to be open, and we have to care more about the real things and real conversation of substance and vulnerability then we do about talking about work, the weather, or the weekend. 

"You got inside my head, I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead. I still see your reflection inside of my eyes, that are looking for purpose, they're still looking for life."