Danny ChaiA couple weeks ago we had dcpark over for dinner. As always, we had a great conversation; it’s a shame we didn’t see each other more often while he was here. But he has a long distance fiancee, we have a small child. Such is life.
Our conversation centered around communication and relationships, and almost felt like a therapy session. It turns out, a lot of stuff I’ve been going through has dovetailed with stuff he’s been thinking about and studying in, of all things, a b-school class on interpersonal relationships.
Anyway, it’s been a difficult year for me emotionally, especially in the last month, and I’ve found myself feeling alternately sad and angry. Angry at myself foremost, but also at circumstances, and also angry at God. That He made me the way I am, a weak person who consistently disappoints others and myself. And that He never seems to talk to me, at least in the ways He talks to other people around me.
At the same time, it’s been a time of self-discovery and, God-willing, growth. One big realization I’ve made about myself is that I place far too much value keeping the peace. Part of it I blame on the influence of American church culture, which overemphasizes “proper” behavior, such that if things appear OK, it is assumed that things really are OK. And that things are OK only if they appear OK on the surface. Part of it I blame on my personality, which is inherently confrontation-averse. But for whatever reason, I’ve placed high value on keeping the peace.
This manifests itself in various ways, big and small. For example, I almost never yell. I have to be extremely angry to reach a yelling point, and when I do, it comes out so suddenly that it frightens people around me. (Actually, I think only Jieun has heard me yell; it’s that rare.) When other people yell, it makes me extremely nervous. Like on Road Trip II, Henry yelled at Dave at one point and I was exceedingly uncomfortable about it. Wong was apparently used to it, but me, uncomfortable. It’s not that I don’t get angry. I get as angry as any normal person. It’s just, even in my anger, I need to “keep the peace”, whatever that means.
I also rarely express when other people have hurt my feelings. That sounds like I’m in kindergarten. But whatever. When I’m hurt by people, or when I’m angry at someone, I don’t say so. I deal with and try to resolve all the feelings internally. Again, in an effort to keep the peace.
I’m also extremely hesitant to express my own needs. You can call it jdyoon syndrome. But it’s deeper than that – a lot of times, I’m not even well aware of my own needs, I need to stop and contemplate about it for a while before I understand what they are. But I think this is related to the peace thing also. Expressing my needs to people feels like I’m placing demands on them, which could inconvenience them, rock the boat, disturb the peace. I’m loath to do it.
Books, counseling, various other influences have convinced me that it’s all wrong. Keeping the peace doesn’t accomplish anything. Rather, it inhibits the growth of relationships, and prevents intimacy in my most important ones. And looking back on my life, I see how this is true. Like growing up, I’d be angry at important people in my life, but instead of expressing it, I would just not talk to them for long periods of time. I suppose I thought not talking to them was better in some way than expressing anger. But it clearly wasn’t; it was a block to relationship in which they were probably bewildered as to why I wasn’t speaking to them. I can’t guarantee that if I did express my anger that the relationships would have been better. But by not expressing anything, I ensured that they were functionally non-existent. And that’s not healthy. I don’t do things to quite that extreme anymore, but that type of pattern of thinking has persisted.
I’ve also realized that if I don’t recognize and express my needs, it doesn’t spare others; the needs don’t go away, and I’ll find myself seeking satisfaction in improper channels. And these others include God. For most of my life, I’ve worried too much I think about “proper” prayers, what I’m supposed to pray and not how I deeply feel. And I’ve been especially hesitant to ask for things, not knowing if it’s within His will or if it’s selfish. But that’s counterproductive – it just makes me try and satisfy my needs outside of God.
So recently I’ve been experimenting with my relationships both human and divine, in being more open and active in expressing hurts, anger, and needs. I’m not sure it’s “working” yet, but it’s a growth edge. There is a balance to it. I know sometimes people are too open in expressing their emotions, such that they end up reinforcing unhealthy ones. But I’m nowhere near having to worry about that. Nor is my goal just the ability to express emotion. My goal is intimacy. Expressing emotions not for its own sake but to remove blocks to intimacy.
So I’m trying to express emotions more. And I’m experimenting with how I pray. To be honest, I’ve been yelling at God a lot recently, kind of like Robert Duvall in The Apostle. Just expressing my anger and frustration. It might be heretical; my feelings might lack the proper heavenly perspective. But I’m working on the assumption that God would rather me vent to Him than to something else. And honestly, I’m still angry. But it’s something I’m experimenting with.
Anyway, that’s been on my heart, and now that it’s out, it’s kind of sad that something so heavy on my soul reads so small and, even worse, so boring. But whatever.