Sacrifice/Abundance

[Jesus] came so that you may have life, and have it abundantly (John 10:10).

Y'all, I live an abundant life.

I'm writing this in my notebook on a turbulent Southwest flight from Phoenix to Salt Lake City. This morning, I woke up in Chicago, the final day of our Episcopal Service Corps Program Director meeting. I woke up exhausted, given that I'd slept less than 6 hours three nights in a row...and had been talked into a tequila shot for the first time in who knows how long. It's impossible to resists following a full day of work conferencing with dinner and drinking and endless laughter with my ESC colleagues--especially when we get to visit incredible cities like Chicago!

It was so much more abundant this time, too. My first ESC PD meeting was ~3 months into my new job--a little overwhelming. I met many wonderful folks and so this time got to say "good to see you" instead of just "nice to meet you"--one of the best transitions we make as humans.

There were a few new faces this time (including my roommate, Broderick, who I already knew from the internet hahaha) and folks absent from the Philly meeting regarded me as "new" again.

Our work, too, reflects this idea of abundance. We spend our days with excellent young adults, exploring and absorbing the world around them.

They live simply, in close quarters, with a lot on their plates. We could focus on the sacrifice (autonomy, money, privacy) but choose rather to see abundance (relationships, spiritual and vocational discernment, group fun times).

I could focus on my lack of sleep, inconsistent hours, cross-country responsibilities, middle-distance relationship, and vocational exhaustion. But choose rather to see my plethora of new experiences, never-a-dull-moment opportunities, support from my partner, and continuing reformation.

Let's talk.

Depression. Addiction. Suicide. Let's talk about 'em.

In the last few weeks, my mind has been pre-occupied with stories of depression and addiction and suicide because people I love are trapped and tortured and dead. There's not a "nice" way to talk about it. Well, there's a "nice" way, but it's false. There's a way to say that it's sad, and that they were gone to soon, and that we wish we could have done something, and that we wish they would have made better choices, and that we wish they'd asked for help. We put the onus on people who are not in control of anything to somehow snap out of it. And that dishonors humanness.

I can no longer count on just one hand the people in my life who are currently in the pit of addiction. Some of them have been in my hand for years. A few weeks ago, I learned that a long-lost friend-of-a-friend had died of an overdose a few years ago, and I'd never heard about it. While that sounds so far away, it just reminded me of the trajectory, in general. This weekend, dozens of people I graduated high school with came home to mourn one of our own. This weekend, I learned that another friend has been using--whether or not he'll seek professional help right away is uncertain. This morning, Robin Williams, a beloved entertainer whose lifetime of mental health struggle has been in the news, was found dead of apparent suicide.

So this afternoon, on the internet, we started to talk about it. We talked about how much we have loved him, how much joy he has brought us, how much his career affected our lives. Oh, it was wonderful. I used up 70% of my iPhone battery refreshing twitter to read the public grief. So many people expressing their dismay that such a positive contributor to the life of the world could meet such a devastating end.

Robin Williams and my friends and your friends have not suffered from something they could have avoided. Part of what's so terrible about depression and addiction is that we, as a society, only whisper about them and believe that seeing a therapist is a problem and that asking for help is a weakness. A woman I follow on twitter wrote a while back--in response to the suicide of a famous person--that the reason we are so aghast at addiction and mental illness and overdose, in particular, is that our minds have never been in such a way that that was an option, let alone the option. We cannot imagine what it's like to be so desperate.

And Robin Williams and my friends and your friends are not at fault. And when they die, you're not at fault, either. But while they live, let's talk about it. Let's let it out. Let's allow at least the decency to pronounce the words "depression" and "addiction" like we pronounce "cancer" and "heart disease" so that we might, together, pronounce "recovery."

The thing is, dear ones, I love you. I am glad you are alive. You matter to me. You matter to a lot of people besides me. You matter to your God (or to mine, if you don't consider God "yours"). The thing about depression is that it can rob us of that knowledge. Know it. Share it.

If you or someone you love needs help, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, or visit suicidepreventionlifeline.org

I resolve.

2013 was quite a year. Much of me is glad to say "good riddance" to much of it, but it had a few redeeming qualities. Usually, I get upset when people spend New Year's Eve bitching about the "worst" year; I used to post to Facebook all the great moments that proved those people wrong. I'm sure I could find a dozen or so fantastic highlights--weddings, graduations, celebrations, relationships--but it just seems marred by the deaths of some people I dearly love, and the ends of some great things, and the never-ending-ness of some less-than-lovely things. I'm practiced in vagueness.

If you're reading this, you likely know me well enough to know that I suck at being "present." I spend inordinate amounts of energy rehashing past events--for better and for worse--and then planning and worrying about the future. The next few months are full of future-oriented events--approval, assignment, commencement--but are also the last semester of seminary, which I want to revel in very much! And while I do not know what the next few months will bring, I don't want to be so focused on June that I miss January through May! I have a really good thing going right now and I'd like to ride that into the new year. And I do't want to focus on what happens to my relationship when I graduate and move--I want to live in it between now and then! He deserves that, and so do I!

2014 has awesome written all over it--weddings, graduations, babies, celebrations, relationships--but I want to do each day as it comes. I resolve to be present to those I love and to myself this year.

Let's go.