Lent started last week. It’s a big deal in the Christian faith; as one of my pastors said on Sunday: “Lent is to Easter what Advent is to Christmas.” It’s a time of preparing for Easter as we remember the 40 days that Jesus spent in the wilderness and consider the suffering that he endured in order to accomplish the intention of his life. Oftentimes, Christians choose during Lent to abstain from doing something they might normally do, in order to more fully identify with and understand the sacrifice Christ made for us.
There have been years when I have given things up for Lent– typical stuff, like chocolate, coffee, dessert, fries, sugar, gluten, donuts– are you sensing a theme here? And also the non-typical stuff, like one year when I gave up sitting where I wanted to sit, everywhere I went. If you’re ever looking for the most inconvenient and awkward thing to give up for Lent, try that one.
I’m not giving anything up for Lent this year. It’s not because I am going to not just give up coffee but also save the money that I am not spending on coffee and then donate it to a charity or something. Although if that’s your jam, good on you.
Instead of giving something up, I’m working on further knowing and appreciating parts of me that heretofore I have primarily rejected or denied. I want to see what happens when I (continue to) work on accepting qualities that I have been ashamed of or sought to hide.
What follows are three of the things that I am not giving up for Lent.
1) My fears and second-guessing (see previous post)
As you may have read recently, I am a defensive, guarded person by default. On my best day, of course, I am relaxed, flexible, and content. I think that’s been about 2.7 days of my life in total. Most of the time I am super far in my head– analyzing, processing, and always always always preparing for the worst. My tombstone will probably say: “She had a Plan B.”
And, that stuff is not all bad. My high-anxiety personality has helped me in new situations and with unfamiliar people more than my car’s GPS. I don’t want to harsh on myself so much about my insecurities that I make them worse, adding to my stress and tension. So, for Lent, I will be gentle with my fears and my over-thinking about all of the things.
2) My self-doubt and insecurities
I am my own worst critic, and I have a relatively high-profile job. This means that I often feel more exposed than I, as an introvert, am completely comfortable with. So in addition to accepting my fears and second-guessing, I want to be more tender with my self-judgement, to remember that even when I fail or make mistakes, I tried my best and, as Maya says: ‘When you know better, you do better.”
The truth is, other people don’t think about me nearly as often as I think they think about me. Other people have way better things to do than figure out if my outfit colors clash or complement, if my hair looks better straight or curly, if I ate too much dessert. They don’t sit around debating whether my comment in the meeting was relevant, or whispering about the font I chose to use on my report. What matters to them is how interested I am in them. Do I ask questions and am I genuinely listening to the answers? Done.
3) My gentleness with my failures and mistakes
This is, of course, related to numbers 2 & 3. I am a work in progress, and it’s taken me a long time to learn how to begin to practice the kind of radical self-acceptance that Jesus says he has for me. I don’t want to erase that profound work by going all Jillian Michaels on myself now when what I need, deep in my bones, is more grace, not less. More joy, not less. More depth, slowness, peace, and trust. Not more driving, trying, striving, hustling.
So there you have it. And now that I share it here, I guess I am giving something up for Lent. I’m giving up kicking my own ass just because I think I should, being generally way too hard on myself just because it’s only in my head, and desperately pushing forward just because I can’t let myself quit.
ARE YOU LEADING THE LIFE YOU WANT?
This is lovely. And I think I’ll join you in giving up kicking my own ass, too. Thanks for the inspiration, mm.
Two days before lent began, coincidentally, a friend said to me, “dying to self is when you stop trying to fix yourself.” What?!? I told her that might be one of the most radical things I’ve ever heard. That’s my “lent resolution”- to sit with that idea. To stop kicking my own ass, and let god be the one to change me.