DJ: #56 Fight for Yourself

I am weary to sound authoritarian in this space. I am no expert or sage. But, if you’ll allow, today I feel the Spirit. So stick with me.

Outside of us are a thousand voice trying to sell us a solution. Amazon made it a one-click fix. Wal Mart will deliver your answers. Apple will stream what you want to soothe your soul. They aren’t the only ones though. Have you read the latest “life-changing” book? Or tried the newest “energy-boosting” diet? But retail therapy and self-help literature are no substitute for the act of loving yourself.

Here is a million dollars and ten-thousand days worth of wisdom:

What feeds our soul and nourishes our spirit is free. The food we crave is in the doing and being. The problem with these acts and motions is they require inner motivation. We must believe they are worth doing and are as crucial as oxygen. We must prioritize ourselves, confess “I’m worthy of love and I love myself.”

When I decided to love myself, I finally found the strength to sit with Jesus and feed my heart. When I choose to face my fear of failure and rejection, I found acceptance. Every time I decide to battle the insecurity of the day I move bit closer to complete victory. I am important, and I deserve to treat myself as well as I can. My world is vastly different than it was, despite the world around me being mostly the same mess it always is.

To you, my loved reader, I say advise this: love thyself. Please. Your soul has parts only you can feed and grow. Find what gives you life and engage it everyday, no excuses. If it’s reading, then read. If it’s having coffee on the back porch, then sip away.

My favorites are:

1. My morning walk with Jesus, to pray and affirm myself.

2. A good diet. I eat well and it’s good for me.

3. Writing. I’m not particularly talented or skilled, but I enjoy watching words appear on a screen or on a paper.

4. Being creative. Fortunately my job requires creative thinking. And I began to make art again. Which is scary, but thrilling.

5. My evening grounding session. I find a patch of grass to plunk down upon, pray, and listen. Usually I will also journal and read.

All of these activities give me space to breath and find my center in Jesus. They allow me to connect to who I am. Find yours, then guard them as though your soul depends on it. You need you as much as you need anyone else.

DJ: #53 No More Porn

I don’t know where to begin to compare my porn-watching habits to the next person’s. I once described myself as a porn addict, but I think that label is a bit much. I could go for up to a year with looking at porn. But when I did, it would be for hours. And then not again for weeks or months; however, when life felt overwhelming, porn was a drug of choice. It gave me something food can’t, regardless of it’s counterfeit nature.

I never justified my porn binges. (And despite the mixed messages from the scientific community, porn is a soul killing enterprise for everyone involved, the actors, the production crew, and the viewers. And we are becoming increasingly aware of how often the actors are victims of human trafficking.) Never once did I finish and go about my life as normal. Attached to it was the guilty and shame us religious folk feel when we know we did a uh-oh. 

Whenever I watched porn, I was in a mental and emotional hell. My self-esteem was low. And porn was just the right amount of disgusting to prove the central thesis of my life “I AM A PATHETIC PIECE OF SHIT.” It was a weird way to confirm this belief. “I am a loser. Guess I’ll watch porn. See! You watch porn, so you must be a loser.” 

Fast forward to September, the Year of our Lord 2020, and I can’t remember the last time I watched porn. Some time early last year, 2019? Potentially close to 18 months ago? It’s a sign of something the Lord is doing in my chest. And instead of pride, I feel gratitude in my heart.  

I can’t speak for anyone else, but porn was always a symptom of deeper flaws in my heart, never the flaw itself. And while I haven’t watched porn in a long time, I have felt slight pulls to return to it every month or so, when my guard is down, and my self-pity rises. Fortunately, I now recognize this temptation as the signs it is. If I feel tempted to watch porn, I know I’m not doing well. So I enact my self-pity escape plan- pray, go for a walk, text some friends, and sit before the Lord until it passes. (I don’t f-ck around with self-pity. It leads to everything nasty and self-destructive in my life.) 

More recently, I’ve begun to feel victorious over porn, as in I will not struggle with it again. It is part of the fruit of the Lord in my life. Like I said above, it’s not pride. It’s confidence. I know if I continue intentionally walk with Jesus, the self-hating, needy Nik has got to die. In its place, growing even now, is the me I always wanted to be. 

Lord, thank you. I always hated porn, hate that watched it, and hated how it gave me brief moments of pleasure. Thank you for giving me something far greater than an ability to avoid sin and temptation. You’ve given me life and purpose and peace. You’ve given me tools to use and people to lean on. You took my sad heart and broken mind and gave me your heart and your mind. 

Lord I ask for your grace and love to coat this planet. Strike the heart of every man and woman and child. Give them eyes to see your glory, and ear to hear your voice, and a brain to receive your blessings. 

Amen. 

DJ: #51 The Expressed Me, Confident or Insecure?

If you believe in such modern who-hacky, I am a two on the Enneagram. It means I can love and want to help people, but when I’m unhealthy I can turn to people pleasing. I become needy and insecure. 

When I finally read books about the Enneagram, I knew I didn’t need to read past two. And fortunately, I’m not an immature two. I’ve progressed along the scale toward the healthy expression of who I am over the last ten years, with a sharp upgrade this summer. 

The best version of me- the person I long to be- is truly selfless, confident, empathetic, and personally detached. I use the word detached because throughout my life I judged my self-worth by those around me. I needed to produce change and affect the people around me. I needed their praise. It’s a cup with a hole at the bottom, never full. 

What I notice now is my efforts to be selfless, confident, and empathetic can and sometimes are unrecognized. (Really? If my roommate doesn’t say ‘thank you’ when I take out the trash, did I even do it? HAHAHAHAHAH. I was never that bad. I take out the trash cause it needs done, but you get the point.) When I’m healthy, I don’t even think about it. When I’m needy and insecure, I do. 

Such is being an imperfect human. 

This morning I was locked in a small skirmish with my insecurity. I felt a need to be seen as successful. AND I HATE THAT NEEDY FEELING. It’s so disgusting, and weak. 

As I finished my prayers I saw myself as having two faces. One was the old insecure sonofabitch, and the other was younger more self assured, still growing. I don’t expect to have all my insecurity rooted out any time soon. But I do expect to continue to grow into myself. I’m in process and I’ve submitted to the One in charge of my transformation. 

I expect to have many more battles with my need to be validated. It’s ok. I’ve got a winning streak going against that bastard, and I’m gonna continue to win until his needy ass stops coming around. I am enjoying the spoils of my victories as well, true gratitude, less anxiety, less control, being present. AND…I find less disappointment in the humans around me, because I am not making an unspoken contract with them- my kindness for their validation. 

There exists a bit of irony here, in this blog. Everyday I show up to write and post. And my motivations, at times, have been mixed. My truest heart is to show people the loving Jesus, everyday. I want to write about how He loves me, and them, and how life-giving it is. That’s all I really want. And yet, a lingering desire to write well, to be seen as smart and intelligent exists. Weeds growing with the wheat. 

Again, such is being an imperfect human. 

Part of my healing and growth comes through self-love. I never expected it to be so, but there it is. My daily confessions and positive affirmations are rewiring my brain. And as I wrote in a previous blog, the compliments of others barely register in my ego. I’m thankful for them,  but they are no longer fuel. They are no longer needed. 

The best fruit is my ability to step out into the undeveloped parts of my heart, to been seen as a fool, or untalented, or unskilled, to show up everyday as me regardless of the outcome or feedback. 

Sweet Jesus, thank you for all the seeds you planted in me. Thank you for watering my soil and remaining patient with me. Please continue to pull the weeds of self-doubt and neediness out of my chest. 

I don’t need to proof anything to anyone. I do not need to be seen by anyone. I am loved and valued, because I am alive. No matter what.  

Over a Month In, What a Trip

I decided to re-read all of my posts on this blog, from the beginning. It’s a good practice I’ve been told. I usually write a thing- blog post or journal entry- and move on, never to visit it again. 

I admit I am pleased with my progression. Each post is earnest and true to who I was in the moment I wrote it. And…I can see a slow stripping of self-conscience censorship. Still, I hold more regard for the newest posts and something bordering on shame in older. 

Why is that? Why do I feel ashamed of something I did a month ago? My first- and likely accurate- thought is I am ashamed because I tried to sound important and wise. What a difference a month makes. A month ago I wanted to believe I held something of value for others. Now, I genuinely believe it, as I believe I inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide. I do not need to prove my words and testimony are powerful, I only need to let them out. 

Dear reader, you may not be impressed with me or my writing. And I would agree except that my writing improved since the beginning of July, and I beg you to accept this wisdom: Do a thing, any thing, intentionally. Everyday. Believe in the person our Father created you to be. And you will see results. Movement along the curve. 

If you want to find some motivation…after the month is over, project your results over the next eleven months. Hot damn, I just got excited!

Yeah, I’m no Hemingway or Lewis, but I ain’t Nik from a month ago either. 

Thank you Jesus. How true your words are. 

Hi, My Name is Complexity

I assume other people can feel conflicting complex emotions in a single moment. (Scientifically it’s called ambivalence, or what we know as “mixed feelings.”) 

I have always been this way, and in younger days I would sit in indecision or self-pity. I’d ask the same questions a million times. I’d interpret the complexity and conflict as I sign I lacked competence or stability. But it’s not true.

My best friend Blake paid me one of the highest compliments of my life yesterday, and it has everything to do with complex emotions, trusting Jesus, and my recent path to His glory. I was in the middle of catching him up on my life, and how I handle destructive thoughts and feelings. I then told him how can recognize certain desires but don’t judgment myself for having them. Blake immediately quipped,”that’s the definition of ‘taking every thought captive.’ You’ve figured out what is good and what is not, but also some things just are. And that’s ok.”

Don’t you just love friends who can restate something in a useful/clarifying manner?

After we said our goodbyes, I sat down and thanked God for this moment. I have time and space to practice living my best life. I have time to stop my day, go into a private space, and cry my sad heart out if I need it. Or let loose my frustration. Or address my self-pity and insecurity. Thank you Jesus. 

I’m worth it. I’m worth battling every bullshit thought or feeling. I’m worth loving myself, respecting myself, and fighting for my heart. 

This morning a thought shot through my brain and caused me to giggle with relief. I’m a good friend. I was good boyfriend. I was not good to me. Not no more yo. LOLOLOLOLOL. The last major piece of my love puzzle to lay in place is this: Love thy self. 

And now I know I can love others, radically so. I have the deepest well to draw from, and it is the Lord who supplies it- with joy and grace for a million days and beyond. 

Amen. 

PS- Thank you Jesus, my cool drink and my refreshing breeze. 

Joy Beyond Intellect

I want more joy in my life, the kind of joy beyond rational thinking or education. I think it’s called silliness. My good friend Blake texted me some silliness yesterday.

Shiggi Babba defies anything cool or worldly appealing. It’s so dumb it’s glorious. I can’t listen to this without feeling pure joy, and who wouldn’t want more of it? I intend to let go of my need to understand everything. I want more delights, more wonder. Less controlled, less aloof. I don’t want to get in my way of receiving it. Of giving it. 

Fuck being a cynic. 

Around the First Turn

I’m not sure what happened or how, but yesterday I turned a small but significant corner in my heart. And that corner is called “Sense of Purpose.” 

Last January, I thought I knew what the next 5-10 years of life would be, mostly cooking BBQ and hopefully her. In less than five months it was all gone, and necessarily gone. The Lord has something better for me, for my heart and mind.

Since May, I’ve wondered what direction my life is headed. The first week in June, I started to get anxious on the question of my career, whatever those are. Once I put it before the Lord, a path into digital marketing opened up, and I took it. It’s going well so far, but it is not my resting place.

Another question put to me by a few folks is “are you going to stay in Redding?” It’s a valid question, and the short answer is still yes. Why would I leave? Community is important to be, vital even. Big cities are unappealing, and every place has its flaws. I want to be around people I can love and be loved by on a daily basis. 

(The long answer to where I’ll settle has to do with a future wife. I want to make room for a life with someone, and for me it includes being open to living in another city. To be clear, I do not want to leave, but I may.)

Yesterday, while I worked on an oil pastel drawing, I felt nothing. The good nothing. The present nothing. The peaceful nothingness that comes from focus and enthusiasm. No feeling or thoughts, just doing. I loved it and crave more. 

In that wonderful moment, my creativity opened up, and I could see with more clarity the path my art creation is headed. My motivation shot way, way up. As proof, I haven’t done a thing today, and I don’t want to work on marketing projects. I want to create. It’s not about being famous or wealthy, it’s about letting out whatever is inside. Because whatever is inside me is good. 

A river is pouring out of my chest, a previously damned river. And I aim to let it run. 

Today, August 13th, I could care less about where I’ll live or how to make money. I give those to God the way Jesus said when I promised “seek first the Kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you.” 

I can’t wait to get home and create. 

Roommates SUCK(sometimes)

Today, part of my morning self talk included the phrases “I’m not a dick, I’m not being attacked, and I’m amazing.” I feel like a dick, like I’m being attacked, and not amazing. I know it’s not true, hence the positive confessions. I’m amazing. I love my roommate and friends. They love me. But most of all, I’m love myself and I’m awesome. 

My roommate and I are in tension because that’s what happens when you live with another human for any amount of time. It’s natural to have friction over silly things like dirty dishes, and are largely unavoidable. The thing is, I’m ok with the friction. It’s the way we deal with the friction that is bothering me. I hate it. I hate the passive aggressive avoidance of direct conflict, of which I am slightly more guilty than he is. 

We grew apart this year due to, what I consider to be, natural causes. I dated her early in the year, so my face time with him dwindled to near zero. Then, in the wake of embracing my heart, I decided to move away from activities like watching sports or depressing videos and movies. I’d rather watch clouds dance in the sky, go for a hike to a waterfall, or create. I invited the roommate to some of these activities and received a polite “no thanks.” He seems to prefer to spend his free time in a dark room with a glass of wine and Netflix. Fair enough. 

The other issue at play in our relationship is my increasing self-esteem. I don’t need his approval or affirmation…mostly. I wouldn’t be writing this blog entry if I was totally dead to the need for his approval. 

What I’m battling today is what I believe my negative feelings say about who I am. My feelings of anger, sadness, and disappointment are telling me I’m fucked up. I’m a dick. If I were a more competent man, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d communicate clearly and be a loving dove, sowing peace and harmony everywhere I wonder. But it’s not true. 

My roommate, for all his strengths, is human too. He suffers from some of the same shames I did only a few months ago. He desperately wants the approval of his friends, because he doesn’t value himself (a fact he confirmed, not my pop psychology.) He’s not powerful in his life, and constantly seems like a victim. My heart aches for him for I know what he battles, and I know I can’t fix it.  I also know he is trying to control his environment, aka manipulate his environment. If I won’t allow myself to use manipulation, I can’t allow anyone else to do it to me. 

I am not a dick for enforcing boundaries or voicing my thoughts on dirty dishes. Period. My areas of concern are 1) being vulnerable in the moment rather than letting things escalate to a stupid emotional state, and 2) being gracious with myself. These are the areas I can address in my life. 

I am not an asshole, or a jerk. I’m imperfect, and still learning to navigate conflict and emotional swings. I believe this is all part of the larger process of digging out the roots of fear and insecurity, which is what I want to do. 

Today is a good day. Amen. 

The Stark Difference Between Discipline and Control

Discipline grunts,”I will” in the stormy down pour. Control whimpers,”They must” at the slightest sign of a dark cloud. 

Discipline believes in itself without of chorus of praise and adoration. Control cannot get enough of it. 

Discipline isn’t distracted by outside noise of the latest fad or disaster. She is focused on the moment, be it for joy, or for profit, or shouldering the burden of brother with cancer. 

Control wonders from moment to moment, never present. He seeks the next fix, unable to experience true joy or support the sick. Like a junkie, he uses his charm and pleasing nature in trade for a bump of affirmation. 

Discipline loves wisdom and hates lies. She loves to build only what will last to eternity. Control can’t see over the next hill, and is thrown by slick presentations. 

Discipline is love- long suffering, patient, kind, enduring. She knows truth is eternal, and she lacks nothing. 

Control relies on others for its direction, affirmation, and value. But like a cup with a hole in the bottom, it’s never full. And it will never be full.

Even before my eyes opened today, I could feel the bullshit setting in around me. The same bullshit I battled this weekend- the pissy insecure self-pity bullshit. I just rolled over and said “not today, not any more.” And then I began to speak love of myself, my day, and my life. I leaned hard in the Holy Spirit, and the bullshit is gone. 

Over recent weeks, I got away from positive personal affirmation and confession. Not by intent, but by neglect. I’ve felt better about myself and my life. I like what I’m doing and the aim of my life. And…this weekend was a good test to remind me of what practices are important to my life. 

I’ve got to believe in me and trust the Lord. I’ve got to do the things I know bring me life. No matter what. Life is up and down. I accept that. What I do not accept is judging myself and feeling like a shit about the downs. I’m amazing. PERIOD. 

(So are you;) 

My Tortured Relationship With Being a Creator

This is not the vision in my head. It is very imperfect. Looks like a high schooler did it. Just give up. You suck. 

I can barely type letters. Even the mental/emotional exploration of this topic is fraught with heart ache. I am, at the moment, sitting leg-crossed on my bed with tears rolling down my cheeks, snorting snot down the back of my throat. 

I envy…sit in awe of…and find inspiration in those who put their creative heart on display for the public to ridicule- even worse, to nothing it. No response, no emotion or consideration. Blank stares and the eventual movement onto their next moment in life. 

I don’t want to be a nobody, the kind of nobody most people quickly wonder over. Can’t help but know, deep down, this stems from my need to be validated- my self-destructive desire to have others recognize my (in this case) artistic greatness. 

My thoughts are drifting to two separate but valid points: 

1) A new friend started painting ten months ago. I believe he dabbled a bit in various arts before settling on painting. In all honesty, his work was childish eight months ago, six months ago, five months ago, but now he’s evolving. His colors and techniques are better. His style is similar to Jackson Pollack, quick and chaotic. He churns out five to six paintings a session, every week.  

And he’s getting better. I’m excited to see where he’ll be next year, in three years, in ten years. 

My point, and why I mention him, is he proves the theory of determination. Hudson is the type of guy who does shit regardless of what other people think. And he does care about the criticism of his work, but he doesn’t let it stop him. 

2) My approach to painting or sculpture is often experimental and in a series. I don’t think of a single work or concept, I think of series of works to demonstrate an intricate and usually very nuanced idea. One piece isn’t designed to stand alone, but be part of a larger community of pieces- my eternal belief we are all connected. Nothing is alone: actions, thoughts, feelings, and consequences. 

So…

What stopped me from pursuing creative endeavors is not the fear of failure, but the fear of being overlooked and passed over. I don’t know how Van Gogh did it. He barely sold any of his work in his lifetime. 

Given my current position in life- attacking all the fears- I do declare now is a a great moment to go after a very deep longing to create. I acknowledge my deficient skills and talents. I also recognize the rule of determination and self-love. I need to do this. 

My commitment is to continue the technique, material, and color study I started today with oil pastels and drawing paper. I will create 40 pieces a month. I did two today. Each month will be a single work. The month of August is “Confronting Rejection and Imperfection.” I plan to have 12 pieces of work consisting of 40 smaller works each, for a total of 480 works. 

The main goal is to do something everyday. Let it be. And keep going the next day. 

Love over Shame, Everyday

I woke up Sunday morning and thought thoughts I’d rather not think. My emotions started to run down a mud path as my mind rummaged for answers. How do I make them see me? Value me? How do I make it happen? It’s a bullshit trap, where the true answer is to stop asking the questions. The premise is wrong. 

Still I tried to give myself permission to stay under the covers rather than start my day the healthy way. It’s Sunday. Take the day off. Your legs are sore. You’ve been good. But I didn’t listen. I battled back. It’s just walking Nik. A few miles. You can walk a few miles. It won’t be hard. You’ll be proud of yourself tomorrow.

I flung my comforter against the wall as I swung my feet to the ground. If I lay here I’m going to sink. And I love myself, so I refuse to sink. I need time with Jesus. I’m going for a walk. 

I didn’t know how twisted my motivations were until this year. I didn’t understand how much anxiety and shame played into my decision making. (Not in every decision. Some decisions I made because I thought it was the right thing to do, and some because it’s what I truly wanted. Earlier this year I dated a woman for the mere fact that I liked her and really enjoyed being with her- no fear or shame present in that moment.)

One area of life long contention is my body image. More aptly said, I worried about what some think my body said about me when they met me. Obese people are often seen as lazy or unable to control their habits- any number of undesirable judgements. I often saw myself in those terms: lazy, unambitious, undisciplined. When an interview went poorly or a woman gave me the cold shoulder I’d instantly begin to hate myself for being fat.   

Consequently, every diet I tried was motivated by my attempt to transform myself into a more acceptable human. I’m not good enough for the job or the girl, but I could be in 50 pounds. And so I would lose weight for a while. Then hit a stall. The pounds would stop dropping, and I didn’t love myself enough to say no to lasagna and a beer and slice of pie. The pounds start to come back like old friends, and the stigma is reinforced. I am lazy and undisciplined. I don’t deserve better.

What I’ve finally discovered in 2020 is I was never going to be a healthy me from a place of shame and self-pity. But if I actively choose to love and affirm myself, I create room for imperfection and lags. When I believe and trust the Lord, it’s ok when I get my heart broken, because I believe the best is yet to come. It’s self-fulfilling prophecy. 

I find self care and love is much more affective form of motivation. It doesn’t allow my feelings or internal narrative to make decisions. It looks for creative answers and hopes all things. It’s patient and kind, always gracious and loving. 

New habits are still forming, but I’m excited by the results. I’m worth loving. My body isn’t a shack. It’s a testimony to the Lord’s faithfulness and endurance. 

Thank you Lord for teaching me to love myself. 

Amen.