A Call to Listen

On a day, not unlike today, many years ago, I went to the pharmacy.

My younger sister, a severe asthmatic with nasty allergies, was out of her asthma medication, and needed a refill. She was having more trouble than usual that day, I remember. I think it’s because she was sick. Sickness, even a cold, always make her asthma worse.

I haven’t thought about this day in years, so my memories of the details of when and why all of this happened are a bit fuzzy. But I think my parents were out of town and that’s why I went to the pharmacy. Whatever the reason was, because I was her sister, I wasn’t allowed by the person working the pharmacy desk to pick up her meds.

I argued, pleaded with the person to just let me pay for and take the meds home to my sister. She needed them, I said. She needed them to breathe.

“Tell her to just breathe.”

That was the response.
As if she could.

“Tell her to just breathe.”

Throughout my sister’s short life, people vastly underestimated her asthma and allergies. She was making it up, they would claim. She was a drama queen just wanting attention, they laughed. She was exaggerating, it couldn’t be that bad, they would tsk. I had asthma once, I grew out of it, it’s not that bad, they would lecture.

Time after time. Classmates, teachers, strangers, friends…they all would belittle her claims and her needs. They had never seen asthma do to a person what she said it did to her, so even when they witnessed one of her attacks, they thought that she was putting on a show and so they ignored it.

Then, one day, on a day not unlike today, she had one final asthma attack. The paramedics tried…but there was nothing they could do. She wanted to breathe, she really did…she just couldn’t.

After all was said and done, so many people expressed shock that her asthma had been life threatening.

She knew. But no one listened.

How often we do that. Not listen when someone is trying to tell us their lived experience. They try to tell us, but we laugh it off. It’s not in my experience, we say, so you must be exaggerating, making it up. I’ve never seen it happen, we tsk, you must not be telling us the whole story, because there’s no way that’s real. If they would just [_______], then it wouldn’t happen… “Tell her to just breathe”.

Time after time. Classmates, teachers, strangers, friends…we discount and belittle the claims of our sisters and brothers because we’ve never seen or experienced such a thing in our lives. And so, when we do see something, we diminish it. Write it off. Discount it. Cast it as a one off, an anomaly.

And then something happens.

Like on a day not unlike today, when a man, with a concealed carry permit willfully disclosed to a police officer during a routine traffic stop, gets shot for having a weapon…the one he legally had and willfully disclosed.

And then we express shock that such a thing could happen to a good guy, from a good family, with a good job, who was forthcoming and compliant, with a small child in the backseat.

But he knew. And he knew. And he knew. And she knew. And zhe knew. We just didn’t listen.

We need to start listening. When people tell us their lived experience, we need to listen. Not diminish, not excuse, not explain, not express disbelief because it’s not our own lived experience. Just listen.

And then, when we’re done listening, we need to take that knowledge and do something. Change something. Do better. Be better.

Lives are at stake.

Gorillas in the Garden

Not my circus. Not my monkeys. 

Over the past year, I have become aware of a phrase that have given me much peace. Purportedly a Polish Proverb (although I can't seem to find any evidence other than people on the internet saying it's "An Old Polish Proverb"...), this phrase is simple: Not my circus. Not my monkeys. 

Two sentences. Much Peace.

I've come to embrace this phrase in my daily living and in my life as a pastor. When the chaos of the world is going on around me, when people try to pull me into their anxiety and problems or make their anxiety my own, I repeat to myself, "Not my circus. Not my monkeys." Remembering these simple words helps me to remain calm, self-differentiated, and a non-anxious presence. It helps me recognize that, while I can have compassion and care for someone in their problems and in their struggles...their problems and their struggles are not my own. I don't need to take them on as my own. I don't need to own them or allow them to affect my life. 

Having said that...

I had a dream. 
I know, that's one of those things that people hate to hear someone say, because usually what will follow is nonsensical and meaningless...but bear with me. This one kinda makes sense.

It was the night before a difficult meeting, one where I knew we would be discussing difficult things that have been the root of a great deal of conflict.. I went to bed, stressing out over the issues and topics we would be discussing, and praying for wisdom and discernment and, yes, patience. 

I tossed and turned most of the night, but when I did start to dream, I dreamt about gorillas in my garden. 

In my dream, my neighbors had pet gorillas. They kept them in their backyard, which is only separated from my backyard by a simple chain-link fence. The gorillas were there, day in and day out, and minded their own business. And then, one day, they started intimidating us whenever we would be out in our backyard. They would swing at us, keeping us away from the fence, which we figured was just a territorial/keeping us away from their yard kind of thing. 

And then they jumped the fence and came into our yard, forcing us inside of our house. From my window, I could see one of the gorillas pick up a big rock that we had pulled out of our garden that we're creating, and use it to kill a fawn that was in my backyard (which, in my dream logic was my pet deer) and eat it. 

Next thing I knew, the gorillas had come into my house. After they had killed my deer, I was terrified of what they might do to us, so I told my spouse and child what I was going to do next: Sneak out of the house and go next door to talk to my neighbors to make them get their gorillas under control. 

I snuck out of the house, so that the gorillas couldn't see me leave, and ran next door to my neighbor's house. My neighbor was on her front porch, haggard and frazzled and stressed out. She was juggling a visit from the Department of Health and Human Services who were evaluating the daycare/preschool that she was running while trying to take care of the hundreds of kittens that she had in boxes and buckets and cages for the kitten mill that she was running. (I feel like I need to make a statement here, my neighbors are nothing like this. They are nice and quiet and definitely don't have a preschool or a kitten mill at their home...).

I begged my neighbor to do something about her gorillas. Begged her to take them home and make them behave. 

But she looked at me, and shrugged her shoulders, and said, "Yeah, they intimidate us, too. We don't go in the backyard anymore because of the gorillas. So, sorry. Can't do anything about them."

I woke up as I was walking home, calling animal control on my cell phone to come and get the gorillas. I was terrified that my neighbor would be mad at me for doing so, but I knew that it had to be done and if she wasn't going to do it, I needed to. 

What a dream, right? I woke up, shaken and frazzled and almost looking out into the garden to see if there was a gorilla there. 

Now, most of the time, my dreams are chaotic jumbles that I have a difficult time making sense of. But this dream...this dream...it made so much sense.

It was about the monkeys, other people's monkeys, and their circuses. It was about how sometimes those monkeys, when unattended and avoided, can grow into something bigger and more dangerous. It was about how sometimes, if other people refuse to deal with their monkeys turned gorillas, they can start to have an impact on my life, even despite my own best efforts to the contrary. It was about how sometimes, in order to take care of myself, I need to do what I need to do regarding those gorillas. 

The truth is that sometimes, people are so overwhelmed by their troubles or their problems or their anxieties that they simply don't know how to manage them, or even where to begin. Sometimes people have such bad boundaries that they spill their anxiety and their stress out into the world around them, and it starts to affect the people around them, without them even knowing it. And sometimes people have an attitude that "someone else will take care of it." 

Whatever it is, when your neighbor's gorillas come into your garden, when they come into your home...when they start to affect your life and your family and your well-being, the truth is that you have to do something about it. 

The question is: what is the responsible way to manage it? I think that it's really dependent on the situation. You want to avoid being an enabler, but you also need to make sure that you are assisting where assistance is truly needed. Whatever is done needs to be empowering to the owner of the gorillas, giving them the strength and the courage and the tools to manage or handle them. It needs to be done with grace and dignity, so that the person is not diminished by the action. But, most of all, it needs to be done, before the gorillas destroy their life and yours. 

So, whether it is direct action, a "come to Jesus moment", an intervention, or something else entirely, I pray that you may find the wisdom and the courage to address the gorillas that have come into your garden (and the wisdom and the sight to see any monkeys in your own life, and deal with them before they become gorillas themselves).