Month: January 2015 (Page 4 of 5)

Homeostasis

I read on some crunchy, loosely tied to science, blog that our bodies function in a way that craves the things which continue us on our current state. (Defense: I googled homeostasis and the definition that came up validated these claims. Those crunchy, loosely-tied-to-science people are on to something.)

For example, if you’ve indulged in a BK Chicken Sandwich for dinner a few nights in a row, then whatever the greasy pretend-chicken does to our internal organs, our bodies respond with, “okay, to get more of this, I need more greasy pretend-chicken.” (Full disclosure: the BK Chicken Sandwich was my go-to indulgence when I was pregnant. When everything sounded yucky, the BKCS made my mouth water. It’s my favorite grossest thing ever.)

This rule would help explain the 2-beer rule. Someone once told me that his options were either to stop at 2 beers or give in to the fact that he would be drinking all night. Self-control after 2 beers diminished, and I contribute this to the above mentioned Homeostasis Rule. Your drunken body continues to crave more of what has made it drunken.

Looking at the world through this lens explains my weird sister when she says “I crave a salad” because she’s uncontrollably healthy. Her body is functioning in a state that craves things like nutrients from fresh, raw vegetables. Also, those of us who crave bread-y carbs probably have the least amount of self control after eating one or two rolls.

In Rob & Kristen Bell’s new book, The ZimZum of Love, they make the point that the energy between two married people (or any people, really) operates in much the same fashion. If love and goodwill is happening, the relationship continues to grow in love and goodwill. If frustration, anxiety and contempt is circulating, than it breeds that downward spiral.

Perhaps our bodies, minds and spirits (and even organizations) operate much in the same way: we crave more of our current state, even when we don’t actually want our current state to continue.

<<Insert comment about over-tired toddlers that can’t get to sleep 2 hours after bedtime.>>

Image by m. a. r. c. used with permission via CC.

Image by m. a. r. c. used with permission via CC.

To make a grand, sweeping generalization, most people want change or want to change. We want something different. We want to lose 10 pounds, be a better friend, have a closer connection with our spouse, be more present with our children and have more time for causes that hold significant meaning in our lives. We want these things. Wanting change is the problem for only a small population of people. (Side note: in my opinion, if we granted those with addictions this kind of perspective, we would be practicing a bit more of Jesus’ idea of grace, attributing the problem less to character and more to our human nature.)

The problem isn’t wanting change. The challenge comes in when we have to start doing the things that would lead to change. We have to get out a skillet and cook instead of another BK Chicken Sandwich. We have to leave the bar instead of getting a 3rd beer. We have to compliment our partner on something we truly value about him, instead of nagging them about the trash he left on the counter. Some of these things are very hard to do in practice.

Our nature craves consistency even when our hearts crave change.

Perhaps acknowledging this homeostasis vortex will give us the courage to start. And if the theory is correct, our victories will lead to greater victories later on. Not without a few stumbles and failures, we should note. But getting out of our Homeostasis craving cyclone is a change in trajectory, built upon small victories over time.

Weaned by God

My last two babies nursed all. the. time. Of course they “slept through the night” – they slept supremely well for 3 hours, until they needed their next milk fix.  Of course, they didn’t “need” to eat, but it was like Ponderosa in the late 80’s and if you have chicken wings readily available, why not enjoy a few more for the sake of deliciousness? For my life situation, including 2-3 other sleeping children in rooms nearby, it was easier to feed them than endure the cries that come with learning to wait until breakfast, so I continued to nurse 2-3 times a night. It was simply life and it didn’t frustrate me much after I came to terms with it. (Though, saying it 6 months on the other side of sleeping only in 3 hour increments, I sound more gracious than what I perhaps felt at the time.)

One to two days after we fully weaned, my children didn’t wake for feedings. It didn’t take long to remind them that the shop was closed and dark time was for sleeping, not the buffet. Within the week, there was a new freedom to our relationship. They didn’t just want me to feel better, which they had historically achieved by filling their belly. Now our snuggles and our time together, just living each day, filled that need.

One of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, chooses to refer to God in the feminine and I appreciate her bringing to light the fact that God carries both natures – he created both man and woman in his image. I think only a God who created nursing mothers would inspire the words of King David in Psalm 131.

Psalm 131

My heart is not proud, Lord;
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed myself
and quieted my ambitions.
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord
both now and forevermore.

The great King David, the one who put mighty Israel on the map. The man who ruled, bringing prosperity to all, with an eye and a heart for the downtrodden. A king, who, when you overlook that adultery, murder and misuse of power mishap, gave a great face to the God of Israel. In fact, I was reading about the idea of “the Kingdom of God” and much of our understanding of that phrase goes back to David’s rule, where it was understood to be a manifestation of God’s reign among his people. To say that David did great and mighty things – “great matters or things too wonderful” – would be an understatement. David was not a sit-back-and-see-what-happens kinda guy.

But this bit of poetry casts David’s heart in a new light. While he was all about the Lord’s work, he also knew his place. His relationship with God became such that he didn’t constantly crave what God could give him, but rather God’s presence. Like a weaned child – not a child driven by a belly’s growl. Not a baby, who, though she loves her mother, defines her mother’s love by what is given or how often it is offered.

Like a weaned child I am content. God has provided. He has proven his ability to give what I need. Now I don’t need God to serve me to be content with him.

Reading this, I’m prone to believe that there was a time in David’s life that he was concerned with great matters. Being a King, one would hope so. But this particular phase in life, David calmed himself and quieted his ambitions. Now David and God connected through presence, not productivity. David didn’t stop ruling the nation; he simply stopped believing that provision was the only way to understand or experience God.

It turns out, the hand of God, or – more accurately, from this Psalm – the breast of God, isn’t the only way draw close to Him Her.

Creating Space

The beginning of the year always comes chock full of wanting more of something. More weight loss. More gym time. More “living life to the fullest.” More shower heads (which, incidentally, made yesterday 400% more enjoyable. As a matter of fact, I did take two showers). Resolutions and changes exist to bring more of something desirable into our lives. I love this.

However, it has dawned on me – and perhaps many of you, I could just be late to the game here – that more is not always better. In fact, more cannot always exist. Taking stock of the American Life, I’m not sure we have room for more.

Who would've known I could find a picture of an apple tree by a sweet corn field? What serendipity. Photo by Matt Callow via CC.

Who would’ve known I could find a picture of an apple tree by a sweet corn field? What serendipity. Photo by Matt Callow via CC.

Perhaps, instead, we need to refocus our work not on gaining more, but on creating space for the right and the good. We cannot have our current inventory and add more of something. You cannot grow an apple on top of a field of sweet corn. If you want an apple, you must make space to grow an apple tree. 

In yoga, much of the work of the mat is about creating space. Once, we were in a reverse triangle my teacher said the phrase, “as we  create some space in the sidebody” and I nearly fell over. Astounding! This stretch, this leaning in, opened up an area of my body so that blood and oxygen and all the necessary, life-giving elements could flow to those parts and organs and often-ignored places of my body. In ancient thought, blood was the “life source” and as a carrier of oxygen we can understand why. When I stretch and bend, I’m creating space for my body to have new life infused into it.

I got hung up on the Beatitudes this morning, those crazy sayings of Jesus about when you have all the nothings, you have everything. Grief, poverty, weakness… these seem to be game-changers in experiencing the Kingdom of God. He says that those who have lost what is dear to them or is necessary for life, has more of God.

In our loss, in our poverty, in our desire for something else, we create space for God to “move into the neighborhood.” But for God to move into the house, someone else has to move out. Even if God were to decide to build a new house at the end of the block, we lose that empty green field our children used to play in. We must decide what we want closest to us.

As we each endeavor this first full week of the new year, the re-entry into life, let us find the places and things that can move out, to create space for that which we really thirst after. If we want something new to grow in our midst, pick a patch of land and grab a plow. What was formerly there must first become barren earth if we want to plant a seed and watch it grow.

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