Rearview Mirrors

Those closest to us have the greatest power to inflict pain.  We remove the armor with them.  Our guard is down and we are open to attack.  They have earned the privilege of our vulnerability.  That is ultimately the risk of intimacy.  With their smallest and most careless of words, actions, or glances, they can draw blood.  And, so frequently, that wound is unintentional and or can even be designed for benefit and growth.  Yet, "[t]he friend who holds your hand and says the wrong thing is made of dearer stuff than the one who stays away" (Barbara Kingsolver).

Jennifer is always right.  She will gladly tell you so.  She says things to me that hurt.  But never with the intent to hurt.  She is a speaker of the truth.  The cliché comes with a reason; "the truth hurts".  And, it does.  We are often resistant to say to those we love what they most need to hear.  Yet we withhold the greatest benefits of friendship when we do.  I once asked Jennifer if her mother had not instructed her "not to say anything if she has nothing nice to say".  Her response:  "She tried.  It didn't stick!"  And, as her friend, I am grateful.  I benefit from the fact that she is honest with me.  In response to my insecurity, she once said, "You're not going anywhere.  I will always love you and be honest with you."  Her commitment to both love me and be honest with me is the greatest benefit I gain from risking vulnerability in friendship.  Those rewards far outweigh the risks and any previous loss I have experienced.

I value the past.  History matters to me.  The answers lie there.  I expend a great deal of energy and thought examining my own past and that of others. Oh, don't worry...I also anticipate what's to come (as I shared in a previous post:  http://thevegetariancyclist.blogspot.com/2013/12/anticipation.html). I'm hardwired to explore the patterns and events of the past.  Dates are important.  I consider how many years it has been since significant occurrences in mine and others lives.  Much of my analysis of the past is beneficial to me in so many ways...in my relationships, my work, my faith, my personal well-being, my fitness. However, it can, as all good things do, trip me up at times.  A few years ago, in a seemingly innocuous Facebook post, Jennifer commented that "rear view mirrors are only good on cars".  I was cut to the core.  I was so wounded that I couldn't responded lightheartedly on Facebook.  In addition to my life long fascination with the past, I actually have an obsession with rear view mirrors.  Four years ago I was hit from behind by a truck while riding my bike.  I have long ridden with rear view mirrors installed on my bike's bar ends.  They didn't prevent me from being hit that day.  And, I became fixated with watching them when I returned to the bike.  I'm sure, at times, that I am actually at greater risk because of them.  The road ahead isn't near as terrifying to me as what might hit me from behind.  I realized that I live with that fear and focus both on and off the road.  

Jennifer forced me to consider the manner in which my focus on the past could be damaging, even life threatening, to me.  I didn't like it, but she didn't retract it.  She didn't say it to hurt me, yet she knew what she was saying and to whom.  We often resist relationships with those who speak the truth even when they do so in love.  Yet, true growth can only occur when we are honest with ourselves and others.  And, true love desires our best even when it's painful.

I posted this on Facebook after my exchange with Jennifer
in an effort to acknowledge the truth in her words and the value in my perspective.