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Trying softer

by Kirstin Vander Giessen-Reitsma

It’s a kind of anti-resolution list, I think—the somewhat ordinary things I’ve repeatedly willed myself to do (or not do), and yet here I am, still doing (or not doing) them.  Perhaps naming them in this very public forum will trick the nagging voice inside my head into shutting up for just a moment in the sudden realization that it has nothing left to say.  Here goes…

1. Stop cleaning my ears with Qtips.  (Doctor’s orders.)
2. Floss daily.  (Would be doctor’s orders if I’d been to the dentist in the past three years….  2.2 Go to the dentist.)
3. Drink enough water.
4. Stop making a certain non-verbal sound that is supposed to signify my engaged attentiveness to a speaker, but too often comes across to others as a (rude) form of “Huh?”, causing people to unnecessarily repeat themselves.
5. Stop looking in the mirror so much.
6. Be more physically affectionate toward friends and family, and more physically expressive in general.
7. Read voraciously, like a book a day, or even just a hundred pages.
8. Stop biting the inside of my cheek.
9. Run.  Do yoga.  Engage in some form, any form, of daily exercise that will magically fulfill all of my physical and meditative needs.
10. Know the Bible better.
11. I did imply that I would stop at ten…

All good things right?

A friend recently mentioned one of his favorite sayings by comedian Lily Tomlin; why do we always talk about trying harder, but no one ever talks about trying softer?  Doesn’t the bible say something about that?  Stop picking at the speck in your eye when there’s a log in there that you ought to be worrying about?  Or something.  Maybe it was related to the lilies of the field, but I could just be mixing things up with Lily Tomlin (see item 10).

My point is that this year, maybe the best thing for type-A me to resolve is to try softer.  Do what Anne Lamott advises in Bird by Bird and close all of those obnoxious voices up in a jar.  Screw the lid on tightly.  Turn the volume all the way down.  Watch with relief as they become increasingly agitated, but still so silent.  Because I look at my list and I think, My goodness, there’s something in me that wants me to be completely self-centered and self-righteous, conquering all by the force of will, from personal hygiene habits to spiritual discipline. And when every moment of my life is filled with pushing and pulling and trying and failing and forgetting and punishing, there’s really no room left, as Archbishop Oscar Romero put it, “for God’s grace to enter and do the rest.”

So in 2008, I will try softer, which presents its own paradoxical challenge. Lamott will help me:

Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people.  It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life….  I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping stone just right, you won’t have to die.  The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren’t even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they’re doing it.

Romero will help me.  Tomlin will help me.  Hopefully, the people who physically surround me will help me when I need reminding.  Try softer.  Stop watching your feet.  God help me.