Sunday, April 1, 2007

Root Causes

I love the concept of synchronicity. Dictionary.com defines it as "the coincidental occurrence of events and especially psychic events (as similar thoughts in widely separated persons or a mental image of an unexpected event before it happens) that seem related but are not explained by conventional mechanisms of causality —used especially in the psychology of C. G. Jung."

I provide that definition to help explain the concept, although I don't believe the technical definition does the term justice. As a Christian, I firmly believe there are no coincidences and it comes as no surprise to me that certain events, in fact many events, cannot be explained by "conventional mechanisms of causality." That's the beauty of synchronicity to me... In the moments that I am consciously aware of them, synchronistic moments remind me that there is a much bigger plan, that my life has a purpose, even if I'm not fully aware of it, and that no matter how dismal things may seem, there is always hope.

I had one of those moments this morning. I felt compelled to visit a new church today, one that I first heard of a year ago, and that I was reminded of again 2 weeks ago. Despite my not-so-pleasant church experience yesterday (see previous post), I decided to step out again, not on a search to meet new people, but because I just had a feeling that I needed to be there today.

The message was exactly what I needed to hear today... a day that started out with me questioning whether I'm really ready to tackle the process of untangling the bipolar mess that is my life. I decided that I have to face my diagnosis and adjust my life accordingly, but I don't have to start right now... Maybe in a few days... or a week... or next month...

The topic of this morning's message was "Do you really want to take a Spring Break?" The pastor likened dealing with the difficult and painful issues of our lives (past and present) to tending a garden - a timely analogy as spring is upon us. The pastor reminded us that during this time of year we have two choices when it comes to preparing our yards for pleasant weather. We can chose to take a weed-whacker, chop off all of the dead plants and the new weeds, throw some mulch over everything and move on to the next project, or preferably, go do something fun.

Sounds quick and easy, doesn't it? It is, and that's what so many of us have spent much of our lives doing. The problem is that within a few weeks, those weeds have not only grown back, but because the roots were left in tact, they start to multiply. All of a sudden, our beautifully mulched garden is full of healthy, hearty weeds who threaten to strangle the life out of the new flowers that are trying to bloom there.

There is an alternative, one that serious gardeners employ... taking the time up front to clear away all of the dead stuff so that they can paintstakingly pull up the weeds... roots and all, conducting soil analyses to see what essential nutrients are lacking, and then preparing the soil to maximize it's ability to produce beautiful and healthy plants. I'll be the first to admit that this approach requires much more time, patience, perserverance and in many cases, aches and pains. But imagine the pay off. Later in the spring when you're standing in front of your beautiful garden and admiring the literal fruits of your labor, do you really complain about how much trouble it was? Not likely.

I've spent most of my life throwing mulch on my problems, focusing more on what the pastor this morning called "appearance management". Although I didn't have a name for what ailed me, I've always known that something was "wrong", I just didn't know what. So I filled that vacuum of ignorance with a never-ending parade of band-aids and emotional prosthetics in order to appear "normal" and to fit in. For the most part, I did a pretty darn good job of convincing others that all was well, in fact, for periods of time I even convinced myself.

In retrospect, it's no surprise that I was always physically and emotionally exhausted... I was like the duck swimming in the pond - smooth and calm on the surface, but paddling like crazy underneath. Rather than acknowledging and dealing with the whirlwind of emotions that were whipping around inside, I focused instead on maintaining that calm, steady exterior. I know now that I did myself much more harm than good.

So, now that I'm beginning to understand the realities of bipolar disorder and how it affects my life, it's time to chose a different path... one that will be much harder, but that must certainly be more productive than the path I'd been on. It's time to clear away the dead stuff that no longer works, dig up those ugly painful roots that run so deep and so wide, and prepare my soil for the types of flowers that I want to grow.

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