Searching for God # 43

Sometimes a man stands up during supper

And walks outdoors, and keeps on walking,

Because of a church that stands somewhere in the East,

And his children say blessing on him as if he were dead.

And another man, who remains inside his own house,

dies there, inside the dishes and in the glasses,

so that his children have to go far out into the world

toward that same church which he forgot. (Rilke) (Reprinted in James Hillman’s The Soul’s Code, p. 81-82)

Rilke’s attempt to describe a man’s absence, in the Hillman context of millions of men who have ‘abandoned,’ departed,’ deserted,’ or simply left what is considered to be one of, if not the most virulent fault a man can  commit, leaving their family, is a page I encountered some thirty years after I was that ‘first man’ in Rilke’s poem.

I had described a kind of emotional desert, to a therapist before leaving, without having read the lines, ‘dies there, inside the dishes and in the glasses’……and when I first read the lines, I wept. Tears for seeing myself in the Rilke mirror, and tears for abandoning my three daughters. And the experience of revisiting those lines and those tears has become one that reverberates, without losing either their sting or their relief.

Decades after I left that family and that marriage, I learned that my then spouse had uttered prophetic words to my mother, her mother-in-law, “I thought I would be rejected if I showed up, and in the end I was rejected for not showing up!”

Showing up, or not showing up, are two of the most radioactive phrases in human relationships. That sentence reads like a trite cliché; nevertheless, clichés are only cliché because they are often the epitome of a kernel of truth, solid as a rock, deep as the earth, and the very antithesis of fantasy.

How does one even ‘know’ if or when another  is ‘showing up’? While there are no absolute assurances, I have a few petre dishes of experimental curiosity that have developed over a quarter-century of teaching, and another quarter-century of church exploration. These experiments have no clinical or research validation; they have no authority’s recommendation or validation. They are a kind of ‘intuitive’ tentative, and highly suspect ‘process of getting to sense’ another’s presence.

Perhaps others, too, have their own tried and proven experimental and imaginative methods of discerning whether another is ‘showing up’.

I often start with the eyes; if they are wandering while we are talking, I sense that the mind and especially the emotional heart might have ‘departed’ from the scene. It may be only a guess at first, and certainly the instinct risks falling into a stereotype of my own imagination. Thirty students sitting within a short range of the front of a classroom, with six classes each day, and decades of those classes (with different actors) are a significant part of my own laboratory. Eyes that are wandering, even if they are doing so unconsciously, are precisely the eyes and ears that I might wish to ‘check’ by posing a question with the name of that person at the end of the question. I, too, have been that student in my own grade twelve English class, when Ken Fulford asked a question while I was in the middle of a mind-wander into a very different picture from the one Fulford was attempting to explore with his students. His smile and his bemused, ‘No John!’ at my totally incoherent, ‘dumb’ and disconnected response are forever imprinted on my mind’s screen. What I remember is that I confused Jonah and Job, both Old Testament characters, although I do not recall his specific question. And he was and remains my most memorable and favourite instructor from high school. Not incidentally, his eyes literally and metaphorically sparkled with wit, impish humour, penetrating thought, and disappointment at a student’s failure to complete an assignment. And, like a recurring rhythmic beat, on each and every first greeting in the hall on his way to class, his eyes seemed to be smiling, demonstrating his deep joy at both the beginning of the day and the opportunity to ‘educate’ young minds as his obvious calling.

And after the eyes, there is that thing called ‘body posture’….not of the military erection in frozen entombment, but of the kind that says, ‘OK, I’m willing to listen, and to think about what is being said, (not only my this teacher, but by others in the classroom).’ And while, that body ‘sign’ is no guarantee of a brilliant mind, or even an imaginative answer to a question, it is a public indication of the beginning of ‘presence’ in the situation. And while the culture makes little of body posture, in terms of discerning the mood, attitude, or ‘state of mind’ of another, it does have relevance as a portion or the clues available.

Similarly, attire, not only the specific kind but also the manner in which it is worn, ranging from button-down, to relaxed casual, to more disjointed and care-free (or careless) can speak to the mood and attitude, the emotional state of another, as well as of the self.

And then there is that inescapable human voice that resonates with its unique timbre, pitch, volume, intensity, lyrical quality, velocity and depth. How one responds in a conversation can be as important as whatever the ‘content’ of the response might be. Speaking while looking away, or uttering sounds of detachment, disinterest and dispassion are also indicators of attitude, mood, emotion and state of mind, although the risk is much higher of misinterpretation, given that we can all mask how we feel, given hundreds of opportunities to rehearse our mask.

So, with all of those virtually immeasureable (except with AI, and even imitation and detection of identity may not reach discernment of mood or attitude) pieces of information, over time, and in and through the vagaries of one’s own mood alternations and interpretations, one generally can discern some of the at least typical patterns.

And with all of the extrinsic variables, there is another potent variable that underscores them all, and that is silence. Short, clipped, ‘flat’ responses in a conversation, while somewhat puzzling, are and never can be as enigmatic as silence. However, as one who almost literally ‘cataracts’ words and thoughts and impressions and observations, the risk in encountering silence is that I would exaggerate it especially if it follows some lengthy or even ponderous utterance on my part. Even unconscious comparisons can and do lead to mis-interpretations. Another, in my presence, might feel intimidated by sheer intensity of my verbosity both in number of words as well as in volume and pitch, depending on the level of excitement I might ascribe to any subject. My total blindness to that potential has kept me in my own darkness for decades.

Teachers are only playing by a professional model that involves engaging students in verbal exchanges of both oral and written kinds. As a non-teacher, outside the classroom, however, as a parent and a spouse, as well as a son, I really never consciously drew a line around my ‘verbiage’ in respect to what others might be experiencing. If they were interested, great; if they were not, I withdrew. And my own withdrawal, whether as a legitimate assessment of the ‘presence’ and participation of the other, might well have painted my own picture of a dry desert, as far as reciprocal conversation was concerned. In a classroom, I have been able to tease out a student’s shyness, lack of confidence, unpreparedness, or even temporary illness. And, based on such interpretations, I also adjusted my expectations. With adults, however, I rarely if ever was as discerning, or as adjustable. In coffee-shop conversations, the proximity of the other makes it quiet easy to discern reciprocity. Similiarly, when conducting radio or television interviews, as host, the guest is most often and most likely appearing on behalf of some issue or cause in which s/he has an interest.

If, however, one’s personal interests include public affairs, sports, movies and entertainment, religion and psychology, and books and ideas, and one’s occupation is basic engagement with adolescents on curricular topics, social engagement with adults takes on more prominence than if one were a dentist or doctor. In such cases, the patient would be listening to the diagnosis, and the treatment plans, and then the specific steps of that treatment. Personal conversations about a wide-range of subjects would be both infrequent and highly unexpected.

English teachers, from my experience, are so heavily burdened with grading papers, preparing classes, extracurricular activities, and restoring energy in quiet time, that they (and I) are not ideal participants in general conversation. Politicians, as public figures are circumspect about their utterances, lest they embroil themselves in a public spat. In short, after several years, I announced at home that I needed more than sixteen-year-olds with whom to associate and dialogue, and without  a horizon even dotted with invitations to adults to dinner, not over-flowing, I was going ‘to sell suits’. In my mind’s eye, I imagined having conversations with other men about their desire to acquire a part of their wardrobe to which I might be able to introduce them. And for a couple of years, that Friday evening and Saturday schedule provided a social ‘outlet’.

Selling is a different kind of showing up, highly dependent on being fully attentive to the customer’s mood, attitude and description of the desired and envisioned suit, sweater, shirt, or especially a tie or hat. Wrapping the mind around the current attire, mood, and demeanour of the client, one could usually have a glimpse of where to begin the conversation, and where one might suggest ‘we’ together begin to look at merchandise. Again, the inter-action intensifies the closer we come to the decision time. Does this ‘fit’ his image of himself? Does this comport with what his spouse would approve? Does this seem too loud or too old or too young for this client? Hints of hesitation morph into ‘road-signs’ for the retail sales clerk, whose imagination is acutely attuned to what he is hearing, and what might be a ‘next option’. This exchange, depending on its inherent and natural flow, either brings both client and clerk closer or leaves them merely detached, or perhaps even separating from each other, if not physically, certainly emotionally. Showing up need not necessarily generate a sale; partially showing up will usually decrease the likelihood of a sale. Disinterest, on either part, will likely devolve into what the car-dealers call another ‘tire-kicker’ who departs quickly.

Showing up as interviewer, however, is highly dependent on the degree of preparation one has done, prior to the moment the camera light goes on. Understanding not only the literal but the broader ideational meaning of the subject to be discussed, can only enrich the host’s engagement with the issue and the interview subject. The Inverse is also true. And, whether or not the dialogue is worth airing and also worth the host’s and the client’s time and effort, will depend, to a large extent, on the level of ‘presence’ of both.

And then there is showing up as chaplain-intern, or as pastoral counsellor intern, or even as deacon or priest…..all of them taking for granted a relatively high commitment to the presence of the professional. The client-patient-parishioner’s personal demeanour, however, will be the beacon of the lighthouse that guides, shapes and tempers whatever dialogue ensues. And, in all of these situations, when speaking about ‘showing up’ what is really being discerned (or not) is the level of trust between two (or more) people.

Showing up is the human interactive currency for building trust in relationships and from the last few paragraphs, it would appear that this scribe might have been either ‘too’ present’ or totally absent. Navigating between those two poles, and discerning where on a continuum a person or situation might ‘expect’ or ‘require’ has been part of the seasoning process which continues after all these years.

Literal, empirical, discernment, recovery of images, and discerning the import of those images, however, is only a small part of the process. There is also another layer to this ‘presence’ which goes beyond words that depict the literal.

We each have a different kind of lens in ‘perceiving’ a situation or a person. And that lens resides in, or comes from, or ‘metaphoric ‘gut’ as it were. Something deep inside us speaks to us about how we ‘feel’ (and feelings in this instance go far beyond ‘emotions’..in this case ‘feelings’ about another person tend to get at deeper questions like, ‘Would I like to have this person in my life?’ Would this person and I be able to ‘collaborate’? ‘Would this person and I rip each other apart?’ Is this person and I on the same page about those things that matter to each of us? Are this person’s values compatible, or counter-intuitive to my values? Is this person someone I can (or have already) ‘get to know’ intimately, in trust and in confidence?’ ‘Does this person even ‘know’ who I am?’ ‘How would I come to any kind of reasonable, credible and trustworthy answer to these questions?’

Would therapy bring two people who seem to be on a different wave-length, in spite of the fact that all public appearances, wardrobe, social and professional status, as well as the absence of addiction or even desire for alternatives?

And, perhaps it comes down to a different level of need, aspiration, expectation and purpose and meaning in life. If one’s needs and aspirations focus on the pragmatic, the fiscal, the empirical, and the public images of success, and are essentially met by those benchmarks, then, one can hope that they are in a deep relationship with another of similar needs, expectations, values and aspirations.

On the other hand, if the abstract, and the ideational, and the imaginative, and even the religious impulses are non-essential, for one, and profoundly necessary for another, there is a kind of impasse for which the courts use words like ‘irreconcilable differences’ to depict a cause of divorce.

Although these words were uttered some fifteen years prior to that ‘trip to the church in the East,’ I discerned, yet buried my latent desire, until finally, it was time. And those words, uttered in parking garage at Mount Sinai hospital, after a day in which I had checked out enrolling in theology in either Emmanuel or Knox Colleges, and had informed my then spouse, were:

If you go into theology, I will divorce you on the spot….and that is non-negotiable.

That ‘church in the East’ is not going away from some, and those words have had a life-changing impact on the lives of at least five people, a mother, father and three daughters.