What if a giant, hideous insect shows up at our door? Or at our church? or business? (Or, in this time of social distancing, on the sidewalk.) What do we assume about why they’re there, and what they want, and what we should do about it?
Our gut reaction, most of the time, will be to get away. We are wired that way. We make quick assumptions about what’s threatening and we do what’s necessary to protect ourselves. We barely process why we reacted as we did.
I love, in this old Far Side comic, how Edna’s friend doesn’t jump to the conclusion that the giant, hideous insect is dangerous. Maybe it just needs a cup of sugar. Or directions. Maybe its car won’t start and it needs you to give it a jump.
This reframing makes a huge difference. What if there’s nothing to be afraid of? Can we pause long enough to consider that?
Of course, for some of us, the possibility that the giant, hideous insect might need something from us–especially if that will take time–is nearly as distasteful as the risk that it will hurt us. But we’ll talk about that another day.
For this week, I offer this comic as a jumping-off point for our April/May “practicing foolishness” instruction. Remember how this works? I’ll gather up your responses and next week I’ll share what I hear back from you. Scroll down for what I’m asking! (And, BTW, trigger warning: The thing I’m asking might remind you of a time when you experienced danger or trauma. If this feels too heavy for you today, you may want to stop here.)
Here’s the practice instruction for April/May:
Recall a time when you found yourself face-to-face with someone or something that, in that moment, felt giant, hideous, scary, distasteful, or similarly off-putting. You may not want to pick the most fearsome experience in your life. Most of us can probably remember a range of experiences within this broad category.
Reflect on your reactions in that moment. If you were afraid, what were you afraid of? If you were disgusted, what disgusted you? Consider what you felt and probe a bit to wonder what those feelings were trying to tell you.
Now try reframing this situation. Pause and see if you can think about that person or thing in a different way. Is there a way of imagining their intentions, their motives, or their history where you can feel more compassionate than your initial reaction allowed? (If this person has caused you severe trauma, this may feel unthinkable. You may want to practice this with an experience that is less raw.)
(Here’s a simple example. When someone cuts me off in traffic, I can get angry, and personalize that experience. “They did that on purpose, to annoy me.” But when I do this reframing, it makes me wonder what is going on with them. Did they just get a serious diagnosis? Did they just get fired? Are they in a hurry to get to the hospital where a loved one is dying? I find I can come up with a lot of possibilities that aren’t about me at all. All of this makes me more compassionate toward that driver who had, in the moment, made me feel angry.)
Send me an email (foolishchurch@gmail.com) or comment here with a description of the situation, your immediate reaction, and how you might reframe it. Everyone who responds by noon on Monday, May 11 will get entered in the drawing for my April/May gift of The Fools’ Manual, and I’ll share some of your responses in next week’s post. We’ll talk more then about how all this connects with #FoolishChurch.
Until then, may you not be plagued with giant, hideous insects (or unseen viruses)–or at least none that pose you and yours any kind of danger.
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