On Endings (Observations of the Week)
1. A Bit of Hard-Earned Writing Advice
I am a writer, and not just of books with my name on the cover. I’m a co-writer and editor, the kind of pen-wielder who helps authors and publishers breathe life into their books.
Several years ago, I labored on a handful of books, each which had a clear beginning (with rising tension), a clear middle (with harrowing climax), but no clear ending. And so, in each instance, we created aspirational endings, endings which attempted to project some future resolution (some future business, some future geographic relocation, some future non-profit, whatever). These books left me unsatisfied, and it’s only now that I see why: Literature, like life, demands resolution, a satisfactory conclusion marked with a final period and followed by plenty of white space. So, if you’re a writer, hold off on publishing stories until you’re satisfied with the white space following The End.
2. Marcus Aurelius and the Power of Examination
This weekend, I read portions of Marcus Aurelius Meditations. There, I stumbled across this passage: “Nothing is so conducive to greatness of mind as the ability to subject each element of our experience in life to methodical and truthful examination…”
Examining my writing experiences truthfully led me to examine my dissatisfaction with the books mentioned above. Those stories ended in limbo or, in a very Catholic sense, purgatory. As emotional creatures, creatures who need our villains punished (often to death) and our heroes rewarded (or occasionally tortured), we want stories ending in heaven (comedy) or hell (tragedy). Anything less is lukewarm at best, and we all know what the holy books say about lukewarm endings.
3. True Masters Understand the Need for Closure
There are exceptions to every universal rule, even writing rules. But the grand masters of both literature and life write toward clear resolution. (Even Marcus Aurelius.) Why? Because writers, as observers of humanity, understand the universal human need for closure. Completion. The end of all things.
The end.
Preventing Fragmentation and Isolation in a Coronavirus World
Why I Wrote 7 Pieces on Fragmentation
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been writing about our fragmented, compartmentalized lives. It began with the revelation that the supposed-saint, Jean Vanier, was actually a vile serial abuser. I considered the ways each of us—supposed-saints and regular folks—tends to live fragmented lives, how we split our personalities when it best suits us. I mused about the causes of fragmentation, how the social structures that required integrity—marriage, career, church—seem less sticky these days. Then, I turned to some very real practices that might help pull our fragments back together.
This 7-piece run sneaked up on me. I didn’t set out to create a serial installment on fragmentation, particularly in an age where government-suggested social distancing in response to a global pandemic might lead to further isolation and fragmentation. And as I draw this series to a close, it occurs to me that in this new era, we’re likely to find ourselves further removed from the structures that might help us live integrated, whole lives (our extended families, workplaces, community watering holes, and places of worship). If we’re not careful, all that isolation and fragmentation might pull us into various shades of despair (which is to say nothing of potential Vanierian indiscretions).
How do we Prevent Isolation and Fragmentation in a World of Social Distancing?
How should I know? This is my first pandemic rodeo, too. That said, consider these common-sense solutions to potential feelings of isolation, disintegration, and fragmentation in a COVID-19 world:
Set aside a particular time of the day for meditation and/or prayer;
After meditation, read sacred texts;
Study what it means to live a virtuous life, even when pandemic fears loom;
Journal at the end of every day, examining the areas where fragmentation (i.e., acting contrary to your core values) or feelings of isolation are setting in;
Put down the cellphone and have intimate and honest conversations with your spouse, partner, children, and pooch (even dogs need a little conversation);
Call your close friends and commit to sharing areas of fragmentation and feelings of isolation in your own life.
A Tool for Defragmenting
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—is available now! So, order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
A One-Hour Practice to Overcome Divided Attention
Yes, I know…
I’m a little late to the page today. Truth is, I woke up quite early to cover a sort of prayer shift for my wife at our local chapel. That shift threw me a little off schedule. Thanks for your patience.
The Effects of Divided Attention.
Keep two screens connected to your computer, a third one—your cellphone—on the desk beside your keyboard.
The Left Screen: Work the flowchart, the spreadsheet, the document, but only for a few minutes. Then, switch.
The Right Screen: Monitor the YouTube video, your email, maybe a Netflix Docuseries, but only when the action is hot, which is to say every few minutes. Then, switch.
The Screen on the Desk: Check every ding, every notification, especially those with any social component, but only when the people outside your room ping you, which is nearly constant. Then, switch.
Follow the bouncing ball: left, right, desk; left, right, desk; left, right, ad infinitum. This is the brain in the modern workflow.
We are a people of fragmented attention, constantly context-switching from one thing to the next. (Some studies show most people only spend three minutes of focused attention on a given task before being distracted by some ding, buzz, or ping.) How does all this distraction affect us? Our productivity wanes, and the quality of our work diminishes. (Can there be any doubt?) But this is about more than productivity. In a state of fragmented attention, do we stop long enough pay attention to our inner lives, to note our own creeping anxiety, pain, or despair? Do we stop long enough to take note of the world around us, to feel the wind on our face, to see the children playing int he field, to hear our neighbor’s newest news? Are we cognizant of a world that is infinitely complex, one so big that cannot be summed up in 280 characters?
Life Examined in Practice: Today, go offline for an hour. Turn off all the screens. Go on a walk, maybe with your spouse, neighbor, or friend. Give your full attention to the analog things of life. At the end of the day, reflect on the experience.
How Forgiveness Frees the Fragments
I start most Mondays the same way, with silence, solitude, and prayer at a local church. Yesterday, my time was cut short by an early morning service, but I counted the interruption as some sort of omen and decided to stay.
In that service, an older man took the podium. He shared of Eva Kor, an Auschwitz survivor who’d agreed to meet with a Nazi doctor—Dr. Hans Munc—in her home in 1993. There, Dr. Munc admitted that he’d watched as so many Jews were gassed at that death camp during World War II, though he’d taken no part in the murder. Still, he’d not done anything to stop it, and for this he was sorry. After the meeting, Eva wrote Dr. Munch a letter forgiving him. Two years later, Dr. Munc and Eva met at the gas chambers in Auschwitz, where he signed a statement tantamount to a Nazi confession. There, Eva issued a counter-declaration, granting amnesty to all Nazis.
Kor could have lived with justifiable anger and hate for the rest of her life, but through extending forgiveness, she made peace with her enemies. In an interview with the Miami Herald nearly five decades after her time at Auschwitz, she spoke of the power of forgiveness, saying, “I felt such freedom… I was no longer a tragic prisoner. I was free of Auschwitz… Forgiveness is the seed of peace.”
Though Kor had been a free woman for over fifty years, she admitted that some part of her, some fragment was still locked away. Through forgiveness, she freed herself from that prison, which is to say, she recollected that fragment.
Kor’s life demonstrated a truth: if we refuse to forgive those who’ve hurt us, we locking some piece of ourselves away in a bitter prison. And as I left the serendipitous service, I considered the way I’d locked parts of myself in bitterness. There was a name on my mind, a person I knew I needed to forgive and forgive and forgive. (Forgiveness isn’t just a one-time act, see.) I said the name once, twice, three times, and though I didn’t sense my own fragmented self coming back together in the moment, I know it is.
Examining the Fragmented Life: Have you locked a piece of yourself up in bitterness and resentment? Push into the practice of forgiveness and see if you don’t sense a growing freedom.*
*Caveat: This is not to say that forgiveness releases the very real emotional effects of some abuses. So, as you practice forgiveness, seek counseling if needed.
A Tool for Defragmenting
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—is available now! So, order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
You Said... WHAT? (The Body Holds the Fragments Together)
Our World is Marked by…
fragments. Last week, I wrote about our increasingly fragmented society and the resulting fragmentation in our own lives. In this day of social isolationism (and the increasing social distancing that’s coming in the Coronavirus Age), it can be so easy to present different versions of ourselves. Can’t we compartmentalize more easily than ever? Can’t we present the social justice Tweeter self in one forum while simultaneously purchasing oxfords made by sweatshop labor in Bangladesh? Can’t we be the spiritually actualized faithful churchman in certain contexts while chasing the almighty buck in another?
In a social milieu of compartmentalization, it’s easy to compartmentalize. It’s easy to fall to fragments.
So, last week I asked what holds you together, what keeps you from falling to fragments. And it should come as no surprise that the majority of you said you were prone to compartmentalization. So am I. After all, we’re all human. Still, most of you said your primary hedge against fragmentation was some version of spiritual devotion—prayer, the study of sacred texts, gathering with the assembly of some group of saints. But aside from the most obvious spiritual answers, most of you mentioned some sort of physical practice.
Donna wrote the physical practice…
of journaling holds her together. It provides her with time to slow down, to get out of her head and to organize the spiritual, emotional, and mental parts of her life. Though she didn’t say it just this way, I might guess her journal practice allows her to see which areas of her life are fragmented and out of alignment.
Nate wrote about gathering…
with a few friends each week. How does it help him hold the fragments together? In his words, “not meeting or seeing [friends] provides a bit of a dark corner that never gets questioned… and where I don’t get to encourage others.” In other words, his people hold him accountable to live an embodied, authentic life. He does the same for his people. Together, they fight fragmentation by being humans being together.
Kate wrote (wait for it)…
the daily practice of cleaning her barn helps hold her life together. Why? I’m not sure just yet, but I’ve sent her a followup email. Stay tuned for more.
“We Are Living In a Material…
World, and I am a Material Girl.” So, said Madonna in her 1980s smash-hit single. And though I disagree with her conclusions about what this means, the pop icon was onto something. We are material beings in a material world. And if we’re going to resist an every-fragmenting, ever-distanced society, we need authentic material practices sticky enough to hold us together. Meet with friends. Journal through your fragmentation. Clean out the barn in relative silence, reflecting on what it means to be human.
Like society, the mind is predisposed to fragmentation (can’t we justify anything?); it’s the body that holds the fragments together.
A Tool for Defragmenting
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—is available now! So, order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
Politicians and Preachers... Right?
That’s right; you didn’t receive an email yesterday. Why? Because I
dropped a Substack newsletter. Did you see it? Alright, on with the show.
***
Politicians and preachers…
are the easiest targets. The former group, we say, demonstrates their fragmentation by success. The latter by failure. What do I mean?
The Political Example: The career politician (yes, you know the one) rose to the top of his party of choice. He’s been consistent on a particular issue for twenty years—let’s call it life or choice or taxes or isolationism or war-mongering—that is until he set his sights on the Presidency. How many ways does a politician wriggle out of his values when the possibility of the Ultimate Title comes knocking? We watch through the cable-news portal, nod our heads as the pundits point fingers at him and use the word “flip-flopper.”
The Preacher Example: The career preacher (or priest or rabbi or non-profit founder) made a career slinging religious values. He has books, speaking engagements, positions on boards and conventions. He is seen as a man of character, until the news breaks. Women or children or staff members or intellectual property rights have been abused, and we begin using words like “double life” to describe him.
This flip-flopping, double living might be a sign of fragmentation. Politicians and priests—do play the cards that benefit them, hide the ones that don’t? Sometimes. But are we any different?
This week, I asked you to look at your own fragmentation. I looked at mine, too. And yes, the truth is, there are different shades of Seth. I present a certain shade at the office, another at home, another at church, another here. Those shades are fairly consistent, I think (or at least hope), but do I still sense some disconnect, some fragmentation? Sure. (As I wrote in The Book of Waking Up, I ain’t no self-actualized guru.)
Today, I’m asking what might help me de-fragment, which is to say re-collect. This much I know: I need something sticky enough to hold the pieces together. And in a world where institutions are becoming less and less sticky, what is that something?
This is where…
you come in. Today, shoot me an email and share the something that’s sticky enough to bring integrity to your fragmentation. But don’t just drop me a one-word response like “church” or “marriage” or whatever. Instead, tell me how that thing holds you together. What is the practice of it holding you together? And if you don’t want to send an email (but for the record I hope you will), spend some time today scribbling your answers in your journal.
How to Recollect a Fragmented Life
To Understand Fragmentation, consider…
an addict I once knew—I was him—who curated his drinking circles. The partner in the office, the happy-hour clients, the after-six drink with the wife. It was the fragmentation of his drinking circles that kept anyone from knowing just how dependent he was. It was the fragmentation that kept his drinking habit alive.
Remember the preacher who banged the Word on Sunday morning, all fire and brimstone? Remember the stories, how he walked women through the backdoor of his study on Monday mornings and counseled them to take off their clothes? Jekyll and Hyde—who could distinguish? The fragmentation kept both his appetites satiated and his church afloat. His fragmentation kept the women siloed too, each thinking he loved her alone.
A friend tells me he’s kept a secret from his wife. “It’s not a big deal,” he says, and I suppose he’s right. Still, this sort of splitting yourself from your wife—isn’t it a sort of fragmentation?
I am lonely, a member of the masses thinks. So, she reaches for her cellphone and projects the best image of herself to a few thousand followers on Instagram. People like her, comment on her sense of style or fashion or snark or whatever. For a moment, she feels comfortably numb until she returns from the digital to the real.
The Causes of Fragmentation…
are myriad, I think. The institutions that used to shape our identities are not as sticky as we once thought. Marriage, the church, politics—what are these but discardable preferences? Yesterday I preferred artistic blonds but today I prefer intellectual brunettes. I prefer life or choice or The Five Solas or whatever.
Example: I still love the woman I married 20 years ago, but I am no longer Baptist or non-denominational or Anglican, and I no longer register as Republican or Democrat. The institutions of my youth have fallen away.
Careers are less sticky, too. Gone are the days of the 9 to 5 with bad health care and a modest pension. We are now bosses to ourselves, which seems dope until you consider the fact that we’re less stable, with worse health care, and no pension. These days, we say what we must to pay the bills.
Example: A friend tells me he’d write whatever for whomever so long as it paid the bills. Truth be damned, he has mouths to feed.
As institutions have become less sticky, digital distraction has become more real. We’ve entered the days of curated personalities, days when we can project a personal brand without having to be held accountable to it in our everyday lives. At least that’s my experience.
Example: Yesterday, in an emotional outburst, I cursed like a sailor. Did anyone in my digital world hear it? Hell, no.
There are other causes to our fragmentation to be sure, though I’m no expert on the matter. That said, perhaps it’s time we stop and pay attention. Perhaps it’s time to recognize the areas of our own fragmentation and try to recollect the pieces.
Life Examined. Today…
use this journal prompt: Are there things you do or say that are at odds with the values you hold? Be honest because the truth helps us recollect the fragments.
A Tool for Defragmenting
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—launched TUESDAY so order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.
Are You Living a Fragmented Li(f)e?
Jean Vanier’s Double Life: A Story of Fragmentation
If you’re involved in faith circles, especially those of the Chrisitan variety, you might have heard the news from two weeks ago. Jean Vanier—the founder of L’Arche, a community that served those with special needs—was living a double life. According to reports from his own organization, Vanier used his position and status to sexually abuse no less than six women, some of whom were nuns.
A man some considered a surefire Saint (as in, canonizable by the Pope) had dark secrets, which should surprise approximately no one these days. But in reading and watching YouTube videos on the revelations, I ran across a quote from a letter written to Vanier by Catherine Doherty. Doherty was a fellow justice worker and the founder of Madonna House, an organization serving the poor and marginalized. In 1974, she saw the cracks forming in Vanier’s life. She wrote:
“Please pray for me because I think I should not write this letter; yet here I am writing it. I worry about your fragmentation — another stupid word that doesn’t apply to you at all, my very dear. How can one worry about the fragmentation of a saint, at least one who is on the way to sanctity like you.”*
The Steep Cost of Fragmentation
Fragmentation. It’s a word conjuring images of shattered glass and broken homes. It’s a word used to describe breaking things, and this was the word Doherty used to describe her friend, though there is no indication she knew how deep that fragmentation went. But as I read that quote, I considered my own life. Are there fragmented areas of my own life, areas I’d rather avoid, hide, or otherwise dismiss?
This week, I’d like to delve deeper into the fragmented li(f)e. (See what I did there?) I’m inviting you along for the ride. Begin today with a simple examination.
Life Examined
Is there some area of your life you’d rather avoid, hide, or otherwise dismiss?
When examining the possibility of fragmentation, don’t limit your examination to the more negative aspects. Ask yourself: Is there some gift, talent, or desire I’m hiding away?
*Follow this link for the original source of the Doherty letter.
A Tool for Defragmenting
THE BOOK OF WAKING UP —a book on addiction, attachment, and the Divine Love—launched TUESDAY so order a copy or ten at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookish (my favorite indie bookseller). Then, forward this post to a friend and ask them to read along.