On the Inconvenience of Other People; or Why, Despite All of the Meditation, Yoga, and Prayers, I'm Still A Bitch

Since I decided to leave the loud, Right-Wing, hateful version of Christianity for a quieter, more contemplative Christianity, I have become a person who meditates, who does yoga, who prays the Daily Offices (sometimes). I try to do at least one of these things a day. I might read one of Father Richard Rohr's Daily Meditations and spend 10-15 minutes meditating on recognizing the image of God in all people, or I might do some Yoga with Adriene repeating one of her mantras like I am grateful or I am kind throughout the practice, or I might recite some prayers from one of my prayer books asking God to temper my self-righteousness with humility. These practices have nurtured my spiritual growth and helped me to become a more balanced and empathetic human being, in my private life, but most people who know me, who hang out with me or have had a conversation with me in passing would probably be surprised that these are things that I do. Because here's the thing: even though I meditate on practicing gratitude and kindness, even though I pray for humility to temper my indignation and for the ability to speak in love, even though I recognize that all humans are sacred, I remain a bitch, an asshole, or--on good days--just a little cold, in my day-to-day life.

I would like to blame other people. It is much easier for me to love my neighbor by donating to causes that help the least among us, the refugees, the poor, the victims of hate crimes and oppression, than it is for me to be kind to my literal neighbor. After all, they slam the kitchen cabinets when they cook, they park like idiots who have never seen a straight line, and they complain that you are moving furniture late at night when you are most definitely on the couch watching Netflix. For me, a good relationship with a neighbor is one in which we both avert our eyes and pretend not to notice each other when we pass each other in the stairwell. I detest small talk, so I avoid my neighbors when I can, and some of my neighbors downright annoy me. It's so simple to  love my neighbor in Syria through donations or letter writing, but it seems nearly impossible for me to show love to my literal next-door neighbor.

But what about non-neighbors? I pretty much struggle to show kindness and empathy to most people I interact with on a regular basis. For example, I avoid any sort of socializing or mingling with my colleagues if I can help it. The annual department party is something I used to force myself to go to (all the while being annoyed and desperately wishing to escape); it is now something I gleefully ditch. Most of the people I've worked with probably think I am a bitch, and they are not wrong because I can be bitchy. It's actually my first response to social situations. Since I came to Florida, alone, I've gossiped about colleagues behind their backs, I've scoffed at their struggles, and I've celebrated their failures. I've been actively kind to maybe ten of my colleagues in my 4 years here. I'm telling you, I am a bitch, and the yoga hasn't cured me.

Then there's the (few) people I actually let in. I do not make friends easily, and I do not keep many of them. My closest friends are from high school, and I still keep in touch with that small group. I made a handful of friends in undergrad, mostly Matt's friends and my sister's boyfriend. I made 3 friends in my master's program, and they were the people I shared an office with. And, in Florida, I've made a few friends. Even with my friends, I can be a bitch. I tend to tune out when they are struggling with something and need to talk it through, or I am too forceful with my opinion of what they should do, and I've always had a problem with talking about the person who's not in the room at the moment. I do think that I have improved since my younger days. In high school and undergrad, my friends grew resentful of my exacting judgment. I could be cruel to them when they did something I did not agree with. I was often not a good friend, and I have worked to change that. However, I still wish that I could be a more loyal friend, that my first response to a friend's pain would be compassion and not "this is how you should fix it," that I could get over my tendency to engage in petty gossip even about my own friends. I need to be kinder in my friendships too.

Finally, there's family. If I wanted to go into detail about how my bitchiness affects my ability to be a good sister to my siblings, I would need another blog post. Let's just say my exacting judgment and cruel responses to someone acting in a way I wouldn't have always plagued my relationships with my siblings. I'm sure its the subject of several of their diary entries and rants to friends. This is something I've worked on changing, and I think I've made progress. However, I do still struggle to forgive family members for doing something I disagree with, especially when it comes to Trump. While I have been the subject of some familial ugliness this past year, my immediate family has stood by me and defended me, and for that I am grateful; however, someone in my immediate family voted for Trump, and I have struggled to get over that. It feels personal. It feels like a rejection of me and the many well-reasoned (or so I thought) calls for logic and compassion I posted throughout the election year. I've struggled to show grace to those I love who voted for that man. I've struggled to forgive them. I've struggled to understand their point of view.

On some level, I recognize that my own coldness in social interactions, my tendency to gossip and mock, my obvious annoyance and disgust with other people, detracts from my credibility when I am calling for kindness, compassion, and empathy. Why should someone listen to me when I am arguing for a truer, more compassionate Christianity but I fail to show compassion to my friends, family, neighbors, and coworkers? I truly believe all of these things, and yet, I so struggle to put my beliefs into action when it comes to people I have to interact with. People I've never met do not disappoint or frustrate me, and so it is so much easier to show them love and kindness. It is much more difficult to practice kindness to the person who voted for Trump, who parks in your spot, or who posts too many obnoxious hipster photos to Instagram.

By now it's probably become obvious that I do not really think the problem is other people. We are all human. They are doing their best to get by. They are grappling with the same world filled with hatred and violence and darkness that I am. Most days I think that the problem is me. After all, I meditate! I read!  I pray! I recite mantras! I practice yoga and yet I remain inflexible (both physically and mentally). At times I think that these contemplative practices are just at odds with who I am. I'm just not a hippie-dippy, share-the-love sort of person, right? But, then again, some of these practices have to resonate with me if I choose to return to them day after day. So, maybe my bitchiness, my tendency to respond to others with rejection, cruelty, or self-defensive withdrawal, is not who I am. It's just who I have been, and Who I Am Hates Who I've Been (that's a little Relient K reference for you). Or maybe both of these things are true. Richard Rohr would say that viewing this as one of two options reflects that I am trapped in the Dualistic Mind. It's not either/or; it's both/and. Humans are complicated, and yes, annoying, and that includes me. I am a meditating, yoga-doing, mantra-reciting hippie, and I am a judgmental bitch. I am both, and maybe accepting that both of these sides of me can coexist will allow me to acknowledge my bitchy impulses and still choose kindness and empathy. People will continue to do annoying things, and my bitchy self will continue to be annoyed by them. People will continue to piss me off and disappoint me and drive me crazy. However, my hippie self knows that I can acknowledge my emotional responses as valid but still choose kindness and empathy. It's not a failing on my part that I am annoyed by other people, but it is a failing when I allow that annoyance to prevent me from treating others well. So, that's where I've arrived on the issue. How hippie-dippy do I sound? ☮