Lenten Changes

For the first time in quite some time (if ever, I can’t quite remember), I decided this Lenten season to give something up, and following the tradition of some, to use the money I would have spent on that thing, and instead donate it.

I decided at first to give up my grande soy caramel macchiatos (which I had already downsized from a venti to a grande), in favor of grande soy lattes and cappuccinos. But, when I told a friend of mine my plan, she pointed out that in essence this only meant giving up vanilla syrup and caramel sauce. Too true. Her comments, though given in the spirit of observation, presented a challenge—to give up something whose loss I would feel more acutely. I reassessed, and decided to give up coffee (drip and espresso). Ash Wednesday started Feb 21 this year, and so far, so good. In some ways, I don’t even miss coffee (I’m not crazy, I’m still drinking tea!). Maybe I didn’t give up enough?

What I’ve really been thinking about lately, though, is the process of change…

I’ve always been the kind of person who hated any change whatsoever. Rigidity was (and still is to a big degree) my security blanket. Where I ever learned such a strategy for coping, or why I even needed it to begin with I’m still not entirely clear. But just like the turtle’s shell I feel myself within, it’s a protective armor I’ve grown to rely on.

But, you know, it’s amazing how much we can change, when we really try. And, it’s amazing how the friends we have around us can affect our desire to try. I’m not willing to go to the extent of saying that friends make us change. Only we can change ourselves. But, none of us does so in a vacuum. That’s where friends, family, and community come in.

Last May, I quit smoking. I had tried several other times before, but always slipped back into it. This last time, though, has been the longest, and from the looks of it, I’ll stay smoke-free. What changed? Well, my desire to quit had been present in different degrees for some time. Was it just that I wanted it more this last time than previous times? I don’t really think so.

It was different this last time in part because I finally found a friend who didn’t smoke, who had never smoked, and who was open about not liking my smoking. I was challenged in a way that I hadn’t been before. I knew full well that I could smoke if I still wanted to, and that I’d still remain friends with this person. But, I also knew that I respected this friend’s opinion, and that if she didn’t like me smoking, there was something about it not to like. More importantly, though, I pushed myself to find something else to fill me up other than nicotine and smoke. I found a way to achieve piece of mind and time to meditate without the aid of a cigarette burning between my fingers and blackening my lungs. In the end, what I’ve found it so much more satisfying in the long run (although it’s true, I get the urge every now and then to have “just one” smoke. What keeps me from doing it, though, is knowing that whatever pleasure I might get from it is merely temporary, and in the long run not worth it).

I guess I’m thinking about change, friends, and family because one of my good friends whom I’ve known since high school is set to get married this May, and asked me to be a part of her wedding party. She said she couldn’t imagine it without me, and frankly, neither could I. In any case, I was thinking about standing beside her as they exchanged vows, and thinking about the public and community significance of a wedding. In many of the ceremonies I’ve been to, we in the audience are asked to be witnesses to the couple’s union, and in being witnesses are charged with being responsible and accountable to the couple, as the couple becomes charged with being responsible and accountable to all us witnesses. That’s powerful stuff.

In all the talk about the fight for same-sex marriage rights I haven’t heard much talk about such things. I have heard about the need to divorce marriage as a civil right from marriage as a religious rite. I have also heard that “love” is the reason that same-sex couples should be allowed to be legally married. But what about its elements of being a social contract—one entered into by a community, and one necessarily upheld by a community?

I guess that’s the problem, when us queer folk aren’t seen as part of the “mainstream” community, and when we don’t see ourselves as part of it. I’ll fully admit, I’m guilty of this…too much self-separation/segregation.

Maybe, though, I’m headed in the right direction…(more on this later)