Monday, April 24, 2017

You're wrong but I love you.

I suspect I'm getting old on this topic of disagreeing well. Unsurprisingly, with a general election now imminent and our media (nation?) apparently incapable of sensible conversation, it keeps cropping up. 

Atheism for Lent - another of my favourite drums - began with an excerpt from a graphic novel set in a pub frequented by Batman, the Joker et al. By some kind of magic, violence and seeds of violent intent were prohibited in this hostelry and so, even for sworn enemies, it was a place of safe encounter.

This excerpt set the tone of AfL, encouraging participants to declare truce while ferociously analysing our ideas about (No) God.

Two tangential TED talks were flagged by coursemates. Megan Phelps-Roper describes how conversations on twitter, of all places, gently led her away from the fundamentalist beliefs she cherished at Westboro Baptist Church. She lists the ingredients of Good Disagreement. Along with the more obvious - thinking the best of the other person, for example - she exhorts us to actually say what we think. Sounds obvious .... but how often are we courageous enough to do this? To be braver than the quick "I disagree" followed by swift departure? Or the quiet gossip with an ally later? To spell out carefully why we disagree and attempt to articulate what it is we believe?

Margaret Heffernan goes on to say that honesty without disagreement is actually futile. You can express as many heartfelt, informative, accurate points as you like and it doesn't change anything. You need a worthy adversary to uplift your point by disagreeing with it, if it is to shine with any useful kind of truth. This committed, brave disagreement is in fact a type of love.

I suspect most of us disagree badly because of our own insecurity about whether the other person likes or loves us or, more fundamentally, whether we are loveable at all. This is human nature. So we need to create places like that fictional pub where we can practise disagreeing well and try to face those who do the same.

We need to make spaces where church leavers and almost-leavers are listened to very carefully with no desire to change them. Where backslapping, self-congratulatory, tribal politics is undermined by those from within each and every 'side'. Where friends and family are encouraged to make us defend our opinions, to keep us on our toes.

I do not want to go through life being told and allowed to believe that I'm right. I mean, I do. But I don't. Get me?

Monday, April 03, 2017

Capitalism, sex and the church.

Following a bit of 'erm, so?', I'm getting to the wonderful juicyfruit stuff in Atheism for Lent. It's now political, economical and psychoanalytical and has perhaps unexpectedly chimed with some Radio 4 sex talk (ha ha, the raciest kind!)

In Sunday's seminar, Pete Rollins discussed the work of Todd McGowan. McGowan argues that Capitalism is a strong system because it will always motivate us to get up and go (you need to acquire more) with promises (you can acquire more). It is a deadly system - not because it doesn't fulfil us but because it makes miserable the pursuit of fulfilment. It makes us feel inadequate.

Radio's Thinking Allowed discussed the impact of Capitalism's beauty industry on women. Mostly, ladies getting HD brows done believe these look good, in some objective sense. Really, cosmetics companies select the latest fad and send us to the beautician. We are driven to look better by spending on products and procedures. We do not grow up learning techniques for sexual fulfilment or how to accept our bodies. We grow up learning to despise ourselves, expensively groom ourselves to death, expecting this will somehow lead to good relationships, sex and self-esteem. To link back to McGowan, capitalism drives us to the salon (you want to look better) with its gorgeous magazine models (you can look better) but the process makes us ashamed.

You might think the church would liberate women from this stuff. Often, as with so many other things, it mimics capitalism, keeping us inline by making us insecure and miserable. We aren't pressurised from the pulpit to get Botox or cosmetic gynaecology. But we are told we are not 'naturally' good enough to have successful relationships; we must train our minds and bodies out of sexual depravity; we must suspect and hide the flesh. This mirrors, rather than challenges, the Capitalist messaging: 'you must work to be a good woman', 'if you follow these rules, you can be a good woman' and yet we are constantly made afraid that we are not, deep down, really good women.

This is just one way the church copies capitalism, making people miserable in order to protect its own structures. The evangelism business is another (for fear of hell, you must win more attendees; the bible promises that you can get more attendees; and yet you are failing to get more attendees). The exhortation to give more time and money is a third (to avoid backsliding, you must come every week; God promises he will help you and you can be a better Christian; Why oh why are you not doing enough?) I could go on.

Whether it is as a woman, churchgoer or passionate human being, AfL has inspired me to learn how to enjoy the process of changing and seeking. I accept that I am motivated to accrue (I am driven to want more and better) by never-quite-fulfilled promises (I always believe I can get more and better). But I also want to learn to love my current, imperfect state and therefore relish the journey onwards.

Monday, March 20, 2017

In praise of sleep!

There's a place in the world for The West Wing. But boy-oh-boy, does it promote the common misconception I see around me that the brightest and best of us must get over our need for sleep!

Almost every episode about these ridiculously noble, witty and intelligent super-characters sees them working well into the night; arriving at the office before dawn to find they're the last in; discussing how long it is since they saw their bed; scheduling meetings for 11pm; functioning brilliantly on a massive sleep deficit.

I don't claim to be the calibre of White House senior staff ......but if I worked that way, I'd be dribbling and blacking out through my potentially-globally-destructive press conference.

Articles on how to fight fatigue are everywhere. It seems half the world is forever too tired. Lack of sleep is not the only reason: stress, lack of exercise, lack of variety in work can also make us weary. But we now know that in West Wing's America, 34.8% of people do not get the seven-hour minimum that they need. And yet many still buy into the idea that sleeping as much as possible, seeking out employment that allows us sufficient sleep, or prioritising sleep over keeping-up-with-the-Jones's is 'lazy'.

When we became parents of twins, obviously, there was sleep deprivation. I mean, I discovered levels of anger I never thought myself capable of! But I also saw lots of new mums striving away with ironing, cleaning, shopping and social commitments that were unenjoyable and unnecessary when they could have been sleeping. In conversation, there was competition about who had least sleep. I saw spouses (myself included) getting annoyed if the other one napped, as if a couple can tackle sleeplessness by doubling it.

In my case, as time went on, Rowan and Willow actually taught me how to nap. I was never good at it. I'm a bit scarred by the Protestant work ethic: my personality tends towards over-achievement. But as I napped out of pure necessity, I saw how beautiful it was. I am a better person on a nap! Sadly, they hardly ever nap now. But when they do, I still grab a bit of shut eye.

They say parenting is the hardest job you'll ever do. I don't know about that - I'm pretty sure it's easier than working for either Donald Trump, given his politics, or Jed Bartlett, given his lack of respect for catching zs.

Monday, March 13, 2017

Faith Fast.

Building on the year I gave up church, 2017 sees me being Atheis[t] for Lent. No mere introductory heresy for me, thanks!

AfL's main aims:
  1. to encourage participants to freely examine their own faith position, unsettling them by creating space where unacknowledged uncertainty and repression can be faced
  2. to show that history's deepest atheistic and theistic thinkers are not as polarised as we might presume and, arguably, belong side by side.
I'm not sure I get 2) yet...... though it is true I feel more kinship with some atheist and agnostic friends than with some Christian people on my radar. I'm all for 1), as a means of going deeper and setting oneself free.

So far, I've two favourite reflections. One was a lecture on how little it means and how problematic it is to tell someone what we believe. When I say 'I believe in God', do the words communicate anything reliable? What am I really trying to say? What does the other person think I mean? Why am I saying it? Spoken beliefs are notoriously misleading. I may say, for example, that I 'believe' in community or 'care' about the environment but live an individualistic, wasteful life. What we are saying, often, is: "I want you to think I am the kind of person that believes and cares...."

The other was a fairly complex argument by Antony Flew against the existence of God. It goes something like: if there is nothing I could ever say or that life could ever throw at you that would convince you your faith position is wrong, then it is a priori fantasy. Wow! What hypothetical event or argument would lead me to decide I've been wrong, all these years? If I answer "nothing could ever do so", surely my position is ideological and totally fenced off from reality?

The problem with a lot of AfL, perhaps by its very nature and perhaps only so far, is its cerebral bent. Thinking is a tiny part of being human. And faith, for me, is not primarily if at all about having the right (orthodox) set of beliefs (doctrine). It is about chasing down and testing out whatever sense of relationship with the Divine you have been given. I cannot imagine AfL will deter me from that ... but I would like to think I'm open to the possibility!

Monday, March 06, 2017

Desperately seeking reassurance.....

We are an anxious society, as is fairly well documented. Excessive reassurance-seeking, I realise, is a manifestation of anxiety - repeatedly seeking the same reassurances from the same people about the same stuff.

No doubt everybody does this. Most of us are insecure. In my case, my husband absorbs it. ("Do you really like my blog post? It doesn't make me sound stupid / arrogant / unkind does it? Are you sure? What about this sentence?" Every time! Ha ha! Long-suffering chap!)

In most other relationships, I am quite objective about my strengths and weaknesses. But people don't expect it. When I do share a weakness, it's assumed that I want reassurance. The statement: "I always get unreasonably angry with my son in xyz scenario", is met with: "None of us is perfect, you're a great mum, I'm sure you're behaving brilliantly."

There is a lot of reassurance-seeking on Facebook, of course. In face-to-face interactions, too, I notice it more and more. I suspect I don't deal with it very well. I tend to pursue rather than pass over comments I disagree with, I fail to pooh-pooh a fretful apology, I miss the unspoken request for a compliment.

And yet, it seems reassuring people too readily is to collude with their anxiety, enable it to prosper and therefore hold them back. So maybe there's something to be said for being a bit awkward? Even being brave enough to deny your child reassurance......

Reassurance-seeking can be confused for an apology but is in fact a a barrier to genuine contrition, change and freedom from our fears and anxieties. In Season 3, episode 9 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Willow waits anxiously by Oz's locker to apologise for cheating on him. He refuses to engage - her guilt isn't his problem. If she's genuinely repentant, he says, she will go away and wait, refraining from further bothering him with her need for reassurance.

It seems harsh because we've all stood in Willow's shoes. But he's right: if our 'sorry' is only an attempt to be reassured and feel better, it isn't real and can only add to our burdens.

We all need reassurance ....but I guess we also need to be aware of how that need can limit us and compromise honest relationships.