On Idealism

My idealism gets me in trouble sometimes because I think the world is supposed to sparkle. In my mind, it does. Or at least it should. To me, there are endless possibilities of adventure and nothing realistic or boring to ruin the chances of them happening like for example, a lack of funding. Funding doesn't exist in my brain, primarily because trying to fund something awesome with minimal resources is such an epic buzz kill. The vast majority of my days are spent laughing, playing and singing along to loud music. Other days, when the veil of my idealism is removed for even an instant, life is total crap and I feel like I might be suffocated by it.

I want to write a book titled I'm Fine: A Guide to Lying because the truth is that I am rarely fine. My personality does not lend itself to really ever being fine, unfortunately. I am either one thing or another. Euphoric or depressed. Laughing or sulking. Up or down. All or nothing. Consistency is a gift that I do not possess without effort. I never have. Everything that happens in my life is either the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to me.

My little sister and I went to the movies this weekend, which was important because we haven't gotten to spend as much time together since we stopped living in the same room. This weekend we had all to ourselves, just her and I. It was magical. Brittney is my (near) identical twin (3 years younger in age, 10 years older in maturity) whose personality could not possibly be more my opposite, which is perfect because her half and mine make a whole. With her, I am always the truest version of myself.

Brittney and I don't ever fully understand each other, but we desperately need one another. God thought long and hard on how to create each of us exactly right, and we know that there was no mistake. Brit is the realist, and I the idealist. She needs me to tell her jokes and pull her off the couch so she can take part in my imaginary games that make the mundane things in life more fun and memorable. She needs me to paint color in her life of factual evidence. And I need her to steady me, to remind me of what's true when my head tells me a different story, because my feelings are real but they are often unreliable. I need her to talk sense into me when I am too far up or too far down, too far left or too far right. I need her to be stable and consistent. I need Brittney for the truth. She needs me for the adventure.

On our sister date we purchased tickets and settled in to watch what previews promised us would be a funny movie. Turns out, the movie was more about life and loss and a lack of love than it was about humor, despite its hilariously stacked cast. When the credits rolled, every single character was living a life they wish they didn't have. My empathetic heart cringed because I tend to relate personally with the pain of others (even fictional ones) when their worlds don’t sparkle like they should. Brittney left unfazed and hungry. I left disillusioned and anxious.

Apparently, movies now possess the ability to send me into an emotional tailspin when the harsh realities of life mask all of my blind optimism. Brittney can view everything through the lens of her rationality. She sees the good in the world for exactly what it is, and sees the bad for what it is too. It doesn't seem to make much of an impact on her emotional stability - it just kind of is what it is. She accepts it and moves forward, like some kind of superhero of reason.

Not me! No, no no. I need to stop and talk about it, ask some questions and rage a little about all the insanity. To me, all the good in the world feels like streamers and balloons and laughter and parties. On the flip side, the bad feels like unfair punishment, kind of overwhelming and traumatizing. The good seems delightful and the bad seems bleak and hopeless. This is partly why I don't like to read the news, because my heart can't handle all the devastation. The scope of suffering and evil is so wide, the hate and fear and disgusting sexual perversion and darkness so dense, that I just sit in silent shock. The ongoing tragedy of humans is too much for my fragile heart to bear the weight of. So I’d actually prefer to ignore it completely and keep on existing only where it sparkles.

But since I can’t ignore it (because it’s everywhere), I ask Brittney for help. This has been a going theme in my life since 1991.

It doesn't take a genius to know that our lives can turn to absolute crap in a heartbeat. Just look around. One phone call. One wrong move. One conversation. Faster than you can snap you fingers, each of us has the potential to find ourselves in a place where we can't even recognize our lives or ourselves anymore. It's happened before and it will happen again. It’s an unfortunate detail in life that someone forgot to tell us. Or more likely, that we forgot to remember.

I mostly try not to think about this at all because it’s frightening and it whispers into my heart a truth that I don't want to hear. That we can't protect ourselves, or anyone we love. We can't escape suffering. And we can’t shop, sleep or date our way out of it either. Even when we think we can, the feeling only lasts for a while. It seems like God designed this whole thing so that when the time comes, we have to stand in the middle of all of it, under its weight, at the foot of the cross. Which was a terrible plan, in my opinion. No offense.

Sometimes life actually does sparkle. Like for me - right now is full of whimsy. These days I giggle a lot usually because I am being tickled. My best friend kisses me before I go to sleep at night, and I often feel loved and known when Sydney impersonates me or calls me on my (frequent) lies. My sister and I laugh so hard that we cry real tears and have to pull the car over to catch our breath. My current life seems to be sprawling out before me with a million different exciting possibilities. I feel happy and content, for the most part, which is a big deal for me since the temperatures are still in the 90’s and it’s practically October.

Somehow or another, time passes during each season. Nothing, and I mean nothing, has the ability to stop time. The world keeps moving along like wildfire, and it feels a little out of control which is both exciting and terrifying. It's better than being mechanical and predictable I guess, but as it stands, none of us are ever really sure what’s going to happen next. All we can do is keep on waking up. Keep on doing the next right thing. Keep on looking for glimmers of hope. Keep on spending time with people that are different than us because we all need each other to balance out the crazy.

Through it all, we learn, grow and are changed.  We come out different on the other side. And we survive. God, in all of his bigness and sovereignty, goes with us - which I think was always our only hope. He is closer than our very skin. He sends us specific people as company along the way to teach us the things we need to know in order to make it home. We lean on each other, hold out a hand, and hang on for dear life. We love each other as hard as we can through all the chaos. Somewhere in that process I can rediscover and appreciate my idealism and even use it to help someone, and maybe that's exactly how it's supposed to be.

I guess at the very least, it’s proof enough for me that love is sovereign - that most of the time, love bats last. It's enough to preserve my optimism and enough for me to keep on expecting good, amidst all the bad. And all the ups and downs, well I guess they make for a better story - a more radiant reality.