Life’s Lessons From My Front Yard
Running across the dry grass in my bare feet, I felt determined and gleeful as I reached for a baseball in midair. Not intended for me, I still enjoyed trying to catch it. I first ran toward my older brother, Greg, then turned around and ran in the opposite direction toward his buddy, repeating my chase as the ball was thrown back and forth. They often played catch after baseball practice and I would suddenly appear and begin a spontaneous game of Pickle. My younger brother, Vincent, would join the game sometimes. We’d run back and forth, never once catching the ball. It was an endless and fruitless chase. Yet, somehow this summertime game helped pass the time in the summer heat when our mother ordered us outside to “get some sunshine” so she could have some “peace and quiet.” With ten children, who could blame her?
In July and August, our front yard was usually the neighborhood center for yard games, such as Pickle, Mother May I, Red Light-Green Light, Tag (Freeze Tag was my favorite), Hide & Seek, or the sometimes foolhardy game of Crack the Whip. Neighborhood kids from every direction ended up in our front yard and, unaware of the time, we’d play for hours. Anyone was welcome in, even kids we didn’t recognize. Always played in the present moment, these games helped prepare me for life.
Sometimes a game of Red Light-Green Light drew ten or fifteen children of various ages. The rules were clear and simple. Stop with every red light and, with every green light (with the “stoplight’s” back to us), run like blazes to cross the finish line. We learned how to make room for everyone, take turns, make eye contact and persist until we reached home base.
We also learned patience when playing Mother May I, Freeze Tag and Hide & Seek. By having to wait for specific permission to move, whether by vocal instruction or a touch, we learned to stay focused and to wait our turn until we could declare, “safe!”
I’m not sure how Crack the Whip prepared me for life, except to hold on with all the strength I had. You never wanted to be on the end in Crack the Whip, as your time in the game was short-lived. But as the smallest, I often ended up holding the last set of hands in the line up as I was flung around the yard, always ending up on the ground in a big thud. No one ever held back, in fact, we all played it with gusto. Of course, the big kids reigned. The rest of us ended up on the ground laughing hysterically (or stunned, I can’t remember). I have to admit the game scared me a bit, yet I never refused to play it. In fact, with every game, I was all in.
Kairos
In the midst of these random summer games, I grew up alongside my siblings and neighbors. We played until it grew dark, or until we were called inside for dinner or to watch The Muppet Show. We did not pay attention to the passing of time. It might have been the closest experience of kairos that we ever knew. Kairos is a Greek word philosopher Paul Tillich (1886-1965) explained as “God’s time.” Also referred to as “deep time,” kairos meant we lived in the present moment, unrelated to the past or the future. It allowed us the freedom to be our true selves. Then, I did not have any concept of myself as an individual, except for wanting to grow taller. My true self, or who I really am as God created me to be, expressed herself without hesitation, naturally and unconsciously when I was very young. Then, as I grew up, my true self was harder to find.
Looking back, now that I’ve recently celebrated my 50th birthday, I long for the simple joy of summer games, running around barefoot, and playing with anyone willing–when I was truly myself. Who knew that life and relationships would become so complicated? And who would have thought that we would forget our true selves as we grew older, that we’d hide as if playing Hide & Seek. Carl Jung (1875-1961), Swiss psychologist and psychiatrist who founded analytic psychology, said it well: “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.”
In the late 1990s, I served as a high school campus minister for two different Catholic schools. Seniors attended a three-day senior retreat called Kairos, also known as Christian Awakening. The retreat team instilled the idea that this was God’s time (Kairos) and we encouraged them to be all in, to listen, to be engaged, to participate, especially in their small groups. It was a wonderful experience that helped these young adults to each face the person she was becoming in light of the presence of Christ’s love and mercy. One talk in particular, “Obstacles to God’s Friendship,” addressed an analogy of masks we all wear around the people we encounter. These masks serve to protect us from hurt, rejection or ridicule. Needed for self-protection, masks hide our true selves. We usually don’t know we wear them. These could be masks of the overachiever, the smartest person in the room, the jock, the worrier, the underachiever, the partier, the perfect one, or the uninterested one. You may recognize other masks that you or other people use. None of these masks are inherently bad. In fact, we need them as we grow up and learn to navigate our place in the world. It’s important to understand that their function, albeit an unconscious one, hides the true self at times and can prevent growth or maturity. Spiritually speaking, masks can make us less free to embrace God’s love and mercy within ourselves and in our relationships with others. For example, if I am focused on achievement, perfection and recognition, I may neglect relationships with others and God because I have no time to slow down, be still, and listen to my inner voice or spirit that speaks to my true self. Furthermore, while I hear that achievement, perfection and recognition are all good things and worthy intentions, Christ never once taught us to aspire to reach them. What are we missing?
Kairos invites us to step away from the world, from pressures that tell us we need to be a certain kind of person in order to be happy in this life. If we focus, instead, on Christ and Christ’s message, we realize that our primary goal in this life ought to be that we become the person God intended for us to be. As children of God, by accepting our true reality, we realize that we are sons and daughters of God. Not only did God create us, but we bear God’s image. We each hold a divine spark within. This spark is our core self. It is our true self. Yes, we are all unique and we see the world in our own way. My true self is different than yours, except that we share the inheritance of the divine as adopted sons and daughters of God. When we can believe this truth about ourselves, we realize how much we all have in common. If I can remove my mask of perfection, for instance, I can allow God to shape me into the beautiful, imperfect person that I am while I also give others the chance to be imperfect. I can then free my true self, opening myself up to possibilities I could never imagine before.
Living in kairos requires us to slow down, to be vulnerable and open to the present moment. A dear friend, Fr. Troy Overton, used to say that he preferred preaching at funerals over weddings. While everyone is focused on the bride and groom, the wedding party and the celebration at a wedding, the last thing anyone is open to is conversion of heart. Yet, at funerals, where grief and sadness lay people bare and thoughts of one’s mortality, life’s regrets and humility are present, people tend to slow down and listen closely. I remember gathering around my mother in her last hours with my siblings and in the days that followed. We all surrendered to the grief and beauty of those moments together. Every word spoken meant something. The palpable presence of God’s grace changed us. Kairos allowed us all be open to healing and mercy. It allowed us to be our truest selves just for a time.
It takes a lifetime to recover and find one’s true self. Thankfully, we have a patient, loving and merciful God who will never give up on us. For our part, we can continually turn back to God and our true selves throughout our lives. The more we do this, the more God’s grace helps us to return to God. St. Catherine of Genoa, Catholic Mystic (1447-1510), said, “In God is my being, my me, my strength, my beatitude, my good, and my delight.” (bold my own)
As I turn 50 this year, I aspire to live these next years (God willing) with the grace and joy offered by saints, prophets and sinners throughout my life. Here I share five unexpected lessons I have learned, inspired by these nostalgic summer games in the front yard so many years ago. These lessons can help you and me let our true selves shine.
Each of these five lessons could become its own blog, so I’m planning a 5-part series to explore each concept more in depth. Enjoy these brief explanations for now, and join me in diving deeper over the next few months.
Five Unexpected Things I Learned in the Front Yard:
Persistence helps us to find space for everyone.
Everyone deserves a chance to be all in.
We accept the present moment in whatever we do.
By being patient and by taking turns, we discover there is room for all.
Everyone has the chance to reach home base, so hold on!
Persistence helps us to find space for everyone: BOTH/AND. While the rules of childrens’ games are clearly defined (black and white), there is always someone who challenges the interpretation. What if one foot is out and one foot in? Does that mean I am out completely? Or do I get another chance to play? We discover that not everything is black and white. Another way to see includes looking at the world with a “both/and” worldview. When I was young, I thought that things were either good or bad. You either went down this path or another and one of the paths led to happiness while the other led to suffering. Over time, I have learned that there are many different paths, that God remains with me along each one, continuing to speak to my heart, to offer perspective through the people in my life, through prayer, through the Church. God never abandons, never leaves a person, as God is incapable of leaving what God has so lovingly created.
Everyone deserves a chance to be all in: MERCY. Running toward home base I might push someone out of the way so I can be the first one there. If given another chance, I can learn that both of us can reach home base, that we are both safe and no pushing is necessary. God is more apt to help us reach home base, to love us with mercy than to judge or condemn us. On the flip side, though, we can turn our backs on God and reject God’s love and mercy. Father Greg Boyle, SJ, the Director of Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles, writes about approaching our relationships with merciful hearts: “Our best selves tell us that ‘there but for the grace of God…’ and that, in the end, there is no distance, really, between us and them. It is just us. Our best and noble hope is to imitate the God we believe in. The God who has abundant room in God’s grief and heart for us all.” We discover that, while this radical reality is abundantly clear in Scripture (see Luke 15:1-32, The Prodigal Son), we tend to want to believe in the opposite view.
We accept the present moment in whatever we do: HUMILITY. We loved to play these games because no one claimed more importance than another. Everyone played by the same set of rules and all that mattered was the here and now. In the present moment today, in the acceptance of the whole truth about me and the world, I admit that I don’t know or understand what I think I know or understand. St. Paul writes that God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength (1 Corinthians 1:17-25). Think about that for a moment. Read it again. I’m not as smart or clever, as wise as I think that I am. I need the constant connection with the Spirit of God within me to teach me wisdom and lead the way. One way I can see the way clearly is through Mary, the mother of Jesus, who teaches me humility.
With patience and by taking turns, we discover there is room for all: EUCHARISTIC ABUNDANCE. Anyone in the neighborhood was welcome in our front yard to play our never-ending game of Red Light-Green Light. All were welcome. People were free to come and free to go. A mentor and good friend, Sister Theresa Feldkamp, OFM, once sent me a card with the simply stated message: “May Jesus, whose entire life was redemptive, bless whatever is small and limited in your life, causing it to grow into great abundance, as he once multiplied a few loaves of bread and a couple of fishes.” I received this during a time of great difficulty for me, when I did not believe that I could rise to the call of principal of a Catholic elementary and middle school. It was my first year as an administrator and I had faced some challenging situations in the first semester. What Sister Theresa did for me then was remind me of the gift of Eucharist, the gift of Jesus Christ and the never-ending abundance of grace available for the asking, really, for the taking.
Everyone has the chance to reach home base, so hold on!: SALVATION FOR ALL WHO DESIRE IT. If I learned one thing from playing Crack the Whip, it was to hold on with everything I had. No matter how many times I ended up on the ground, I could get up again and join in. What about salvation? Can I get up and join in, over and over again, throughout my life? At what point do we learn that salvation isn’t about what we do, what we earn or merit? We do not move God’s hand or change God’s mind by our actions. God is God and will do God’s own bidding.
Over the next few months, I will explore these five lessons in greater depth. Join me in the spirit of kairos and as we find our true selves.
Call to Action: In the comments below, share a truth you have learned in your lifetime and why it’s important to you.
Song for Contemplation: “True Colors” by Cyndi Lauper
