It has been a long time since I seriously considered calling it quits on our relationship. Even though I no longer depend on you, the Church, to tell me how to live, or to provide connection with other people of faith—I’ve stuck to the belief that somehow, we are better together than we are apart.
I am facing a choice because I don’t know if you are good for me anymore. The best way I can describe it is being ‘unequally yoked’. It reminds me of advice you gave when I was a teenager; warning me about my relationship with people who didn’t share the same faith or convictions.
Yes, I do think we are unequally yoked and it’s not me, it’s you. Monday to Saturday I have been listening to the edges of society where God’s Spirit is hovering. I feel myself being stretched and enlarged until Sunday, when I have to squeeze back into the shape and size you want me.
I never thought it would be possible, but maybe I’ve outgrown the shape you made for me. I’m bigger than you can handle, in so many ways.
Embracing the sacred and divine Feminine
I’m tired of broken promises and false hopes of shaping the future. I am a capable, intelligent, strategic and compassionate communicator and a visionary for the Church. Stop offering lip service to honouring and empowering women to lead and have a voice within your walls. You don’t need to tell us you believe in women, just let us lead not because of our womanhood but without regard for it.
We’ve known each other too long for you not to trust me now. When I say to want to contribute, don’t make me jump through hoops and knock on doors. If you don’t trust me, say it straight and let me move on. The power of my sex won’t change.
Embrace me, a reflection of the sacred Feminine in the real world—intelligent, gifted, passionate and willing. Embrace me or say no. Your ‘no’ won’t ruin me as much as chasing your ‘yes’ has.
Staking a claim for the significance of every human being
The political and sociological debates you engage with around LGBTQ issues let me know you’re thinking and talking about it.
I want you to start turning from conversation to action. How you respond to this group of people is going to define our future, the future of your relationship with me as well as ‘Them’, as you so often refer to my friends and fellow spiritual seekers. Straight people are leaving the Church because the tension you’re asking us to hold is untenable. We must live out our words.
But I think I know something you don’t. I’m The Generation. We’re all just in it together, one generation defined by being together and alive now.
Disrupt the conventions
I’m tired of hearing about the ‘Next Generation’. Did I slip straight from the ‘next generation’ where I was ‘full of potential’ to being past my use-by date in my thirties? You just don’t look at me the same anymore. I can’t seem to hold your interest.
But I think I know something you don’t. I’m The Generation. We’re all just in it together, one generation defined by being together and alive now. Young people aren’t any more likely to bring about hope than older people. We are all as close as each other to the grave, because life changes in a moment.
Disrupt the conventions and assumptions. I’m not suggesting you need to give up your hope for the cool kids, those twenty-somethings you’re so pleased to have held on to, but every denomination I’ve encountered is trying to engage with the ‘next’ generation while pacifying the baby-boomers who are still largely paying the bills.
Defining the relationship
When I try and talk this through, you say ‘you don’t want it to be over’ and that I need you, as much as you need me. I have to disagree. I carry Church in my pocket. My smartphone is all I need to read the Bible, download teaching, listen to worship tracks and even journal my prayers. I can tithe to Christ-centered causes and I can ‘fellowship’ in community via Facebook, Twitter, blogs and text messages. I can Skype and Facetime to pray with people I care about and sometimes, church happens around my kitchen table or fireplace. It happens Monday–Sunday.
I don’t know where we go from here. It’s not an ultimatum; it’s just a chance for us to be honest with each other. Maybe we’re both stuck, not knowing how to be what we need from each other. Where should we go from here?
There is no such thing as broken, not when it comes to human beings.
It’s a lie. The logic follows that if a man or woman can be broken or have brokenness, then a man or woman might also obtain ‘perfection’. I am determined to rid us of this language that separates our humanity and divinity in such a way.
I have no desire for an overly virtuous piety. I want wholeness; a kind of rugged holiness that is my body, mind and soul integrated. The darkness and the light of me, entwined together. Piety alone cannot give me freedom, it can not bring me home to myself. If I fall and scrape my knee, if my blood spills on the earth – I heal, but I am not left unmarked. The scar is evidence itself of that which is wounded and that which is whole being woven together through the act of living.
Wholeness is not the opposite of brokenness. Wholeness is accepting myself, both good and bad. Accepting the divinity and humanity within me. No man is wholly good, but he might find his true self in accepting what is shadow and what is glorious. Accepting your true self perhaps the largest obstacle to embracing and living/being the person you dream (or have not yet dreamed of being) with real freedom. Whether that is making money, developing the third world, pursuing art – whatever it is that is within you; you were made to impact the world. More of us than we like to think, were made to spend our energies in the pursuit of bringing others and whole communities to wholeness.
Living defined by your rights and wrongs is a flawed and fractured mirror of who you are. If we see others through that same lens, our lens is the only broken thing. An object can be broken; a person cannot. My friend Greg works in a church and he would call it ‘living defined by your sin’.
To be ‘fixed’ or ‘unbroken’ is as much of a lie as it is to believe you are broken. Wounded, perhaps. Scarred, likely. There is only to be yourself or to be some other version of yourself. This is crucial identity work – the process of becoming; wholeness. Where what is graceful, clumsy, beautiful, ugly, brave, cowardly, truthful, deceitful, wise, foolish and fragile is woven together into a single, true being.
Every wound is an opportunity to dig deeper into the darkness and light within you. The damages we do, the things we suffer, the furies we endure and the passions that push and pursue us. This mosaic of contrasts battling and dancing within each of us, that is the truest self. Fragments of light and hope, pieces of darkness and shadow – this work of coming home to myself and all that I am, is the most important task.
I’ll tell you why. It is too easy to live in this world by category of right and wrong. When we do that to ourselves and we do it to each other; we step so easily into a warped view of justice. Justice becomes blurred into self-focus. We become criminals or victims, instead of both. We categorize ourselves and one another; this one is good, this one is bad.
We make our worlds smaller by defining each other within such small boundaries. We limit God and the universe with concrete lines. We crush the imagination of what might be and we take our eyes off the true prize, which is to live as our true selves.
Some of us are afraid of our true selves, because we categorize so ruthlessly into right and wrong. Ambition might be always considered selfish by those who work for charity, while poverty for the sake of development might be seen as irresponsible or wrong by those who hold self-sufficiency as a virtue. So we try again, to get it right. Few of us are so confident to live completely as ourselves, lest we be called Narcissist. The world is rarely blessed with those who walk completely in their own skin.
We relinquish our creative power, becoming obsessed with doing what is right. In our desire to be perfect, to be right, to be good (or to be sinless) we take our eyes off the bigger creative work in the Universe. There is no hero in fairytale or real life that does not bear some shadow or flaw. We are unconvincing humans without them.
Whatever good you can and will accomplish in your life, will occur in the company of your demons too. You cannot eradicate yourself of much, but in the pursuit of your true self, more of your light will come to the surface than you realise.
If only people would give as much energy, thought and love to their gifts (the true self) and the work of their hands today; as they gave to pursuing perfection yesterday in order to begin tomorrow.
If you cannot look at the moon and see how she leans into the darkness each night, you do not yet understand how important the weaving, the juxtaposition of light and dark truly is.
Seek yourself out, so that you might see the creative force of the Universe, the Creator at work. If you will simply look, it will not take you long to become acquainted with that self. Then you can continue with the important work; that of Being.
The poet Rumi captured it well here; the process of coming home to yourself;
“For ages you have come and gone courting this delusion. For ages you have run from the pain and forfeited the ecstasy. So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul.
Although you appear in earthly form Your essence is pure Consciousness. You are the fearless guardian of Divine Light. So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul.
When you lose all sense of self the bonds of a thousand chains will vanish. Lose yourself completely, Return to the root of the root of your own soul.
You descended from Adam, by the pure Word of God, but you turned your sight to the empty show of this world. Alas, how can you be satisfied with so little? So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul.
Why are you so enchanted by this world when a mine of gold lies within you? Open your eyes and come — Return to the root of the root of your own soul.
You were born from the rays of God’s Majesty when the stars were in their perfect place. How long will you suffer from the blows of a nonexistent hand? So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul.
You are a ruby encased in granite. How long will you decieve Us with this outer show? O friend, We can see the truth in your eyes! So come, return to the root of the root of your own soul.
After one moment with that glorious Friend you became loving, radiant, and ecstatic. Your eyes were sweet and full of fire. Come, return to the root of the root of your own soul.
Shams-e Tabriz, the King of the Tavern has handed you an eternal cup, And God in all His glory is pouring the wine. So come! Drink! Return to the root of the root of your own soul.
Soul of all souls, life of all life – you are That. Seen and unseen, moving and unmoving – you are That. The road that leads to the City is endless; Go without head and feet and you’ll already be there. What else could you be? – you are That.”
She doesn’t actually have my eyes. Not this daughter, anyway. Mine are blue, her’s are brown. She’s borrowed. All of my children are, for now. It’s a gift I often speak of, the joy of having young people in your life. I’m lucky to be able to count dozens of them, most of them adults now and enough new ones coming into this world each year to keep my heart full. Too many to name, but each one a blessing.
Still, when I think of this one in particular, I think, “Daughter – you wear my name, those are my eyes, keep them raised“. It’s a lyric from a Jakob Dylan song called ‘War Is Kind’. And the name I have to give her, is Courage.
You can read all about Brylee’s story here but the short story is, after multiple setbacks, my sweet girl finally landed in Sydney to attend the prestigious Brent Street dance school just a few weeks ago. It’s been a long journey that started many years ago.
My girl is tough and kind. She’s going to have a strong, robust character with grit and warmth to her. She’ll always find it easy to make friends but she’s not all the way there yet. She’s not done baking, so to speak.
My friend Marko is a pretty smart chap. He said to me at the end of 2014, over a cigar in a Zen backyard in San Diego (one of my favourite places on earth).. “You know, you’re at a stage of life when you should still be learning in whatever environment you’re in.”
It’s pretty damn good advice and a good situation to be in at 35 years, to have someone prepared to remind you, you should still push yourself into learning environments. So when I think about Brylee, I hope and pray I’ve encouraged her to do what I try to do, hopefully to do it better. To take every opportunity as a learning chance, diving deep into the marrow of life and to keep learning, no matter where you are.
If I’ve done anything as a mentor and friend, I hope it’s been to encourage young people in establishing their voice, committing themselves to constant learning, evolution and most importantly, the courage to do those things ongoingly.
If there is one thing more I have to give Brylee, it’s courage to face her fears. Courage to face loneliness, insecurity and doubt. Courage to push through the toughest of lessons, even when they come around again and again. Funnily enough, when it came time to write those words down for her… all I had was a story. A story of the women I come from; tough, resourceful and resilient women who have been brave in many aspects of life – from solo mums, missionaries, oppressed housewives and many more. I come from a line of women who have grit and warmth and so I invited her into it; my surrogate, adopted daughter.
The funny thing is, I’m trying to give this lineage to her at the very same time as trying to grasp it myself. I think that’s magical, though. All that has come to me through mentors, teachers and family I’m trying to live and work out alongside a young woman who will be braver, stronger, kinder and tougher than I. We are forging this path together. We are making a way for each other.
So I wrote to her, the story of the family lineage I’m offering her, on top of the wonderful family she has. And then I wrote some advice – the kind of advice that I’ve received and the stuff that’s worth passing on. Even a few pieces entirely my own.
Your life is about to get really practical and hard. So promise me that you won’t lose the mystery and wonder and the possibility of ‘what if?’. And remember, that you come from a line (even by adoption!) of strong, capable women who push through when they get scared or intimidated. You have grown up capable and brave. Remember that we are all cheering you on, a family of women who are immensely proud of you but also pushing you on to cross over borders and boundaries for us. We have all pushed through our own to open up paths for you. Don’t forget that……
Remember your spirituality. I’m not talking about religion and you know that, right? Still, I hope that you’ll remember you are more than a body and mind and heart. There is something bigger in the universe and the more connected to it you are, the easier it will be to know yourself, to trust your instincts and to make your way on the earth. So take time out, even if it’s just to ask questions and write a journal…..
Choose your friends wisely. There will be some people who come in and out of your life for a season. That’s ok. Don’t let every new person into your innermost circle. Let them earn your trust first……
It’s really easy for people to focus on the challenges that you’ve overcome to get where you are. Now’s the time to start living as if you never faced them. What I mean by that, is you’re about to start growing up in all the normal ways everyone does. Learning to really take care of yourself, how to learn from every experience and how to admit when you’re wrong, how to say sorry when you don’t have to. All that kind of stuff that we have to learn as we grow……
Don’t do it by yourself. Keep talking to people when stuff goes wrong. Don’t be ashamed or embarrassed if you make mistakes or get into trouble. I wish I had learned this lesson a long time ago. Part of the risk of being a strong, independent woman is that you actually become too independent. It’s easy to start thinking as if any failure is unacceptable. Failure is simply a faster way of learning. It’s ruthlessly more efficient. So you should expect to fail often……
The most important thing is to learn to fail well – which means admitting something hasn’t worked or has gone wrong, to talk about it with others and to figure out what to do differently. Failing well usually means having people to keep you accountable in the mix as well. So these are things I hope you’ll remember when it happens next. It’s normal. Just reach out and get people to help you recover well. I promise that if you learn to do that, you’ll save yourself so much hardship in the future and become a much more compassionate and forgiving human being……
No triumph or mistake is the total sum of your success or failure. So don’t crow or mope more than you need to…….
Something else I want you to hold on to – this next part of your life is an opportunity and a risk, to become really selfish and self-centred. It’s easy when the whole focus of your life becomes what you are doing and what you want. So find someone to help when you get to Sydney. Find something that gets you out of your own world once or twice a week. It will help you stay grounded and it will also help you to remember that while dance school is everything right now, it won’t be everything forever… therefore it’s not the be all and end all in your world. Don’t live for today… live for tomorrow…..
In any situation, whether it’s an argument or someone who drives you crazy with love or crazy with hate – ask yourself first , what can I do differently? Then ask yourself what else might be going on for the people involved. Ask yourself whether there is anything about their perspective that might be true or worth taking on board. Do this ritually, even when it’s uncomfortable or when you are convinced you’re right. Especially when you are convinced you are right. This will help you to learn. It will make you stronger, more rational and more understanding…..
Don’t sleep with dumb boys. Seriously. And think hard about the story you’ll tell me about any tattoos. Mine have great stories, so I expect the same from you. If a conversation is good, then let it go on all night but don’t expect every night to be the same…..
Hold everything loosely except your own heart – you should hold that tight. When you decide to give it away, even in a little piece, give it freely without needing anything back. If you give love away because you need something in return, that isn’t love, precious girl. So give love when you know you’re still happy to give it without receiving anything in return from friends, with boys, with family…..
Love because love is good, not because you’re trying to fix anything within yourself. There will probably be times you do this anyway. Just make a note and ask yourself what you needed at the time. Don’t be afraid to go to therapy ever to deal with those questions….
I love you, earnestly and truly. I love you for the wonderful things about you and for the flaws we all have, that are about to begin being knocked off by your experiences in the world. Brave girl, you are always in my heart and I will always be with you in spirit, in love and in presence whenever I can…..
Lastly, I am always proud of you even if you ignore all this heartfelt advice. You will probably forget most of it at first, but maybe in six months or even six years you will remember this letter and pick it up again. I pray that whenever you pick it up, no matter how often or otherwise – you will find something in it that gives you hope, something that reminds you of what you can do to help any situation you are in. Remember you are only a supporting actor in the lives of all those people you’ll be around… but you can still win Academy Awards for that. So live well to encourage and support others. And live well to make a great story…..
She gives me strength, when I see her persevere. When I know my words lift her up, my spirit is also lifted. I want to say to her, ‘Daughter.. when you lift your eyes, my eyes are lifted to the horizon’. When you steady your heart against the tide, my heart is steadied.. because we share a name.
That name is Courage. Sometimes I remind her, sometimes she reminds me. We are bonded in that, my girl and I.
I have several indulgences in life. Firstly, I rarely take a book with me for a plane trip. Indulgence #1 – I prefer to buy a book at the airport (preferably US Trade size and pricing). I like to choose something that is new, unreleased in New Zealand yet and something that fits my mood in that very moment. It helps me to focus on being present during those delicious flights where I switch off from my phone, the internet and often, the people sitting alongside me.
This November, as I was wandering through Nashville airport it was Cheryl Strayed’s memoir, ‘Wild’, that caught my eye. The film was already in production, featuring an erstwhile Reese Witherspoon on the cover. Easy choice. The true story of a somewhat unlikeable woman facing a crossroads of family and personal trauma and choosing to process her pain through an at times impassable hiking trail appealed to my sense of adventure.
I read her story in just two sittings. Partly because the book itself is at times too easy to read for the depth of human experience it covers.
I immediately planned to watch the film after its release. Which brings me to Indulgence #2. A movie for one, with a glass of wine in one of my favourite cinemas. There’s something truly lovely about surrendering to the experience without care or regard for anyone else!
Verdict on the film: Given the nuanced subject matter of the film, it’s no surprise that it’s release has been small scale. However, Witherspoon’s performance is measured, grounded and believable. If she has previously always erred a little too far on the side of good, I found her characterization of Cheryl remained rooted in a woman with neurosis and addiction issues. While the film skimmed through some of the internal monologues that filled the pages of the book, the masterful editing pulls through pieces of Strayed’s past in a rhythmic cadence with her present.
Given the book is a personal memoir, you almost wonder if the author has come to like herself yet. By the time she leaves the trail, Cheryl is not a protagonist hero. She has overcome plenty but you get the sense there is still another mountain pass to climb through. The film is not about Strayed finishing the trail, but about the ways we find ourselves again after we’ve lost the path. Strayed, if not likeable, is certainly admirable. You might say the same for her mother, played by the always outstanding Laura Dern.
The book paints a character who is dangerously flawed, suffering through domestic violence and falling into alcohol abuse before a swift redemptive arc places her back on a path to achieving super-womanhood. Her death highlights Strayed’s view of injustice in the world, as well as her struggle with her own life and death choices.
Why you should see the film? Because these stories, told without romantic and unrealistic happy endings are important to understand and perceive as possible. You’ll enjoy seeing Witherspoon play a character with some depth and unresolved trauma. This is her best work since Walk The Line, in my view.
Book Vs Film: This is a rare instance where I think you could happily choose one or the other. Certainly I believe reading the book first made it easier for me to connect with Strayed on-screen. There are deeper and richer nuances capturned in the 300 pages of memoir that simply couldn’t of survived the cutting room. But the essence and truth of the story is there.
You’ll remember the line: “Putting myself in the way of beauty.” And the pragmatic relationship Strayed, a writer, has with her books along the path.
There’s nothing quite as thrilling for a foodie than getting to a new restaurant within the first week of opening. Luckily, I have friends who live on Princes Wharf who were equally keen to check out the new neighbourhood local.
During our pre-dinner drinks in the spacious bar area, overlooking a bustling ferry terminal on a damp late summer evening, it certainly felt like we could have been somewhere on the East Coast of the United States, a location that goes hand in hand with crab. We discussed at length the long history of establishments that haven’t managed to make that corner work and discussed the merits of food you can eat wholeheartedly, fingers and all.
Special mention should go to the bar snack popcorn, served complimentarily (always a nice touch) at the bar. Tasty and again, finger food. In terms of bar selection, a line-up of the usual suspects but you don’t need much more than a cold pilsner or lager here. I did find the Blue Lagoon hard to resist though. Blue drinks. Delicious and fun, with a little attitude.
That’s exactly what The Crab Shack is.An recent institution in Wellington, the fishing net faux-crab pots, beach shack and brass tack fit-out creates a suitably seaward but not overly tweaked atmosphere. The people manage to do the rest. Although not booked solid, there was a steady turnover of locals and tourists and we were delighted to see Simon Gault at the pass. It’s refreshing to see a chef at the head of a large hospitality business still working on the tools in opening week.
Still, opening week it was and you’d be caught by surprise if there wasn’t something to raise an eyebrow at. The crabpots are open to the main dining floor and certainly seemed to be providing a steamy tropical heat and smoke of their own. There was only one dish to get waylaid on its way to us however, and the suitably apologetic waiter ensured the correct order was quickly delivered. Between us, we managed Gault’s iconic manuka rewana bread, a revelation for carb-loading days. The Jonah crab, Atlantic Golden crab pots and tuatua fritters were the popular choices on the day. I enjoyed the charred and thinly sliced pineapple that added sweetness and acidity to the lemongrass and chili of my golden crab. One pot between two was ample and the sheer job of cracking, sucking and teasing sweet, delicate crab meat from claws delights my inner child.
While we saw a few burgers and fries leaving the kitchen, we were generally impressed to see the populus at large donning white bibs and tucking in to work hard for their dinner.
Verdict: A few little corners to tidy up but the friendly staff and service ensured nary a bump was felt. Delicious crab worth the calories expended to enjoy it. We split the bill at $250 for 4pax, including plenty of drink rounds.
Tash McGill is a broadcaster, writer and strategist who works with people and organisations to solve problems and create transformation. She believes people are the most important thing and that stories are powerful ways of changing the world. You can find out more at tashmcgill.com or by visiting her LinkedIn profile.
