Seeking The Light

Tag: mental-health

  • There is not Much Light in a Rabbit Hole

    March 28, 2025. I have been in a rabbit whole since Wednesday.  The news has been impossible for me to ignore.  I have literally read or watched everything about the “Signal situation.”  I even stopped in the middle of the book Tears of Things by Richard Rohr and have not gotten back to it.   Why am I consumed with this current event?  I’m worried, fascinated, and at times,  gleeful as I see the blatant, undeniable mess into which the DT administration has sunk.   I recognize this morning, I am waiting for a resolution that makes sense.   Surely, there will be people fired. Surely there will be demonstrations.  Surely people will “wake up” and recognize the dangerous situation into which DT has put our country.    Ahhh, what?   And, if nothing “that makes sense” happens?  What then? 

    Yesterday, my daughter, Monica said she “gave up social media” for Lent.  Geez!  What a gift that sacrifice will be for her.  I, on the other hand have allowed myself to be “sucked in” again.  I don’t believe there is anything inherently wrong with following the news.  What has happened though, is every time I get online, whether on my computer, tablet or phone, I click on the “teaser” ad, about the Signal situation.  I am hooked.  It truly has a quality of addiction as I scroll from article/clip to article/clip. I’ve wasted hours in reading and listening.  This time has not contributed to any solution.  This time spent has only created in me anxiousness, fear and perverse glee. The fruit of this time wasted is NOT positive, leading me to a dark place.   Rather than compassion, I am feeling vindication that now it’s obvious what fools they are.  What help is this to today’s world?  But I can’t easily stop!

    The part of my life which requires electronic presence is trip-wired to cause me to tumble down the social-media rabbit hole.    To stop the scramble from news clip to news clip, I have to purposefully divert around the trip wires.  Today, I literally, can’t look at the “subject line” of my emails or I get sucked in.  I can’t look at my Facebook feed, but just go to the piece I am looking for.   I can’t read the “pop ups” on my computer screen; instead, I click the “X” and avert my eyes from the content clip.  I can’t look at Chrome’s content when I try to google a topic.    

    Today, from the scripture readings, my perseverative worry is STOPPED by

    Psalm 81

    I am the Lord your God: hear my voice.
    An unfamiliar speech I hear:
    “I relieved his shoulder of the burden;
    his hands were freed from the basket.
    In distress you called, and I rescued you.

    When I am stuck in the media rabbit hole, I have no ability to hear God’s voice.  His voice is “unfamiliar” because I can only hear the echoing voice in my social media rabbit hole. And that rabbit holes voice causes me anxiousness and immobility.  Today, when I pause in quiet and hear “I relieved her shoulder of the burden; her hands were freed from the basket.  In distress you called, and I rescued you”.  I don’t feel anxiousness.  I don’t feel stuck in chaos, hate, disfunction.  I feel calmed, cared for, and loved.    I’m no longer in the dark.

    Lord Jesus, you are my rock of calm in this world of worry, chaos, temptation, hate and pain.  I am weak and on a daily basis do the things that make it nearly impossible to hear your voice.  When I stop and listen, you reassure me of your love and help.  Thank you for this care and love.  Help me be diligent in limiting my daily news intake.  Help me hear your voice so that I can know your love and be your love to others in this sad, weary and dark world. 

    I’m finding that my writing helps me sort what is happening in the world and by your grace, is helping me come back to center in you. I find I can articulate better what my purpose in life is when I write.  My purpose being daily coming back to you, my Rock.  It’s the only thing that keeps me from being tossed about in this troubled world. 

    I don’t know why I feel it’s important to put this “out there” in the blogging world?  I could be, and likely am, on some level, just satisfying my ego.  I hope though, in addition, my struggles and thoughts will help someone else; Will bring some of your grace to someone who struggles with what is happening in our world today.

  • What was your Grandmother’s name?   Where do you come from?      

    February 19, 2025 

    The readings today:    Jesus takes the blind man aside.   Smears mud over his eyes and the man’s vision begins to recover.  Then he uses hands again over his eyes and the man’s vision is totally restored.  Mark 8:22-26. 

    Center for Action and Contemplation reading:  What is your grandmother’s name, where do you come from?

    When I think of my personal history I am flooded with uncomfortable remembrances. 

    • Being 18 years old and feeling totally alone in the world.  I actually told a boy I was dating, that a person is alone in the world.  I remember feeling like it was all up to me to figure things out.  A sense that no one cared or could help a person through life.   I was surprised at how shocked he was with my thoughts.
    • Being 15 years old and trying to pull off a High-school event, planned entirely by myself.  I was the VP of the sophomore class and I was supposed to plan a scavenger hunt that sophomore students did with freshman at Como Park.   At the time, I thought it was normal to plan it all by myself.   When it floundered, I totally lost confidence in myself. 
    • Wanting to be a “leader” at 15, in my sophomore year.  I had run for class vice-president.  I had no group that I felt I really belonged to, no friend I shared my feeling with, no idea that this was not normal if I wanted to be a leader. 
    • Earlier as a pre-teen/teen, babysitting and recognizing that I really didn’t connect with the kids.  I was there for the money and for “treats” left for me.  Recognized, there was a feeling of “not caring” about the kids, although I kept them safe.   
    • Even earlier (early grade school), I remember, that I had to be a “good girl”.   I had to say please and thank you or I wasn’t a good girl.
    • I remember, although, mom showed signs of care when I was very young, she did not cuddle or hug me as I got older.   She never listened to what I said.  I learned early,  not to try to verbally express myself, as she would talk over me or not respond to what I said.  I felt my words had no value.   (In defense of my mother, I recognize now that her love language was her commitment to feeding, clothing and housing me. And that is not nothing). 

    These are my early remembrances and they set me up for a time in college and young adulthood, where I went through the motions of belonging to groups, but always felt separate, sad, unsure, and lost.  I had no one to talk to about my observations, fears, and feeling then.   I didn’t even think that my feelings were important.  What was important was getting good grade, doing the “right thing”.  Those things would make my life ok.  They didn’t.

    I remember clinging to “church” and youth groups in my late high-school and during my college years.    I liked the energy, the message, the fake feeling of belonging at least when I was at the groups.  I think staying close to the church, receiving communion, going through ritual, trying to pray, talking about “godly” things, kept me safe from worse things.  But, the demons of self-doubt, self-recrimination and utter lack of self-confidence had free reign for quite a while and robbed me of any joy.   At one point in early adult years, I remember seeing the saying “An indelible sign of God’s presence is Joy”.   I remember thinking, “What is joy?”   I didn’t know what joy was; I could not remember experiencing the thing called “joy”.   

    The recognition that a lack of joy in my life was a sign I was injured, that I needed healing, was gradual.  The initial healing was dramatic and the full healing continues over my entire life.  It’s been like the blind man’s sight gradually being restored as told by Mark 8.   My healing story is for another day, I think.

    Jesus, I feel like you are calling me to a different way of living now, again.  Today, there is a reason, I need to remember this painful history, even if I can’t see it.    Help me to stay close to you, to not be fearful or distracted by world events.  I want to see you more clearly.  I want to follow you and be your hands in this world.  I recognize that I still feel a lack of belonging, holding myself back from being close to others, to being a full part of groups.  But that scar-ed part of me does not define my being in the world anymore.  I chose today, instead, to concentrate on the gift of faith in you, the gifts of joy in my life.  Today, I specifically think of the gift of Jim, my husband.  He helps to keep me grounded in you.  Jim and I see things so differently, yet, I feel loved in his presence.   I respect and appreciate his perspective, fortitude and generosity.  He is a Sign of your light today in my life.