Beyond the formula

I've always been wired to follow the formula.

X + Y - Z = My Happiness

Of course, the variables differ from person to person, but I believe that the principle applies to everyone. Here's an example of what my formula might look like:

 Jessica's Happiness = Education + Faith - Mistakes

In other words, my happiness might be maximal (I'm just gonna roll with it and assume that's a word) if I... X (complete my education as quickly as possible and begin my career) and Y (go to church every Sunday and do other things Mormon-y things that show that I have faith in God) and I make sure I never Z (stray from the model or experience any setbacks).

Freshman Yr. 2009 playing in the leaves with Jocelyn. I love this girl for so many reasons, but above everything else, I respect her unapologetic determination to embrace who she is and fight for what she wants.

Alright, I hear ya...I'm simplifying things for the sake of simplicity. 

The formula to my happiness is actually WAY more complex than this simple, three variable equation. It probably looks more like something out of my freshman calculus notebook. 

Still, the idea stands, I used to believe that there was a formula...that there was a way you're supposed to "do it." Whatever "it" is. My friend, Bex, made an interesting observation a couple of months ago about how many times I use the word "should." With that comment, I realized that I subscribe to a very prescriptive view of the world - something so deeply embedded into my nature that I have had to literally stop myself from continuing my thoughts after I say the word "should" or the phrase "supposed to" in order to analyze my biases.

But back to this idea of the formula...

If you're like me, then you mercilessly stress yourself out trying to fit the mold (whatever that mold is for you). I catch myself doing acrobatics to shape myself into the perceived ideal of a number of different "molds" - Brazilian, woman, friend, Mormon, student, wife, teacher, daughter etc. Somehow, I got the idea in my head that there's a specific look to the life I'm supposed to lead - and that I'm supposed to do it all perfectly.

That kinda pressure will snap you in half.

If we allow those pressures to govern out lives, and if we allow them to make our decisions for us, the result can be catastrophic. It will break you down into pieces so small it could seem impossible to put the authentic "you" back together. That's where I'm at today.

I'm actually surprised it took 22 years for the stress I put myself under to bend me out of shape.

High School Graduation 2009. My dad. There is an infinite list of things we disagree about, but I can never deny how much I look up to your ability to be authentically "you" no matter what. You are very stubborn, but I can only hope that God has blessed me with the same stubbornness that gives you courage to have a relentless "no-nonsence" attitude.

BUT as seemingly soul-wrecking as it is has been to stare down into the existential abyss that resulted from this awful experience, it has been a bittersweet combination of terrible and thrilling, and I'm strangely excited about where this journey will lead me.

I was about to lose it in church today. I couldn't stand the idea of sitting in Sacrament Meeting (think of it as kind of like the Catholic Mass, if that helps you), so I left midway and found a quiet room to sit in for a while. I just wanted to feel close to God for a minute (and tune out the voice in my head that I mistake for God...the one that criticizes and shames me...but the real God - the one I believe loves and cares about me and my happiness). I really struggle to tell the difference on most days.

So I went and vented to my bishop (a spiritual leader for Mormons). I told him how alienated I felt from the people in my ward (congregation). I confessed that I was bothered by how isolated I felt because of my culture, my personal struggles and circumstances, etc. I admitted that I never felt like I would never really fit in, in spite of my best efforts.

 And I gotta say - this guy is really great. He didn't tell me what I was wanted to hear, he said exactly what I needed to hear but never really thought was a possibility...

He said, "Jess - I think God values diversity a lot more than we give Him credit for. Look beyond the formula."

Wait - what??

So I could still be a faithful Mormon right now - without the perfectly manicured yard, the crying testimonies, the baked goods, the white fence, the Republican ideology, the beautiful, smiling babies, the picture-perfect marriage, the blonde, blue eyed women, the ambitious career dreams, and the fail-proof life?

I'm still okay?

And that's when it hit me. God loves me where I'm at. He wants me to be the best, authentic version of me possible. 

I do not believe in a God who wants to destroy my individuality, but I admit that I did believe that for SO long. Instead, He wants a Jessica that will honor her identity. God doesn't expect me to feign happiness, or to force myself to follow a perfect formula or to fit into a perfect mold. God wants me to be me - as I am, and trying as hard as I can to reach my potential. He doesn't want me to ever stop being me.

Especially in recent weeks, my mom has taught me that it takes a special brand of courage to love and forgive another human being. She has the strength to love without condition and to give me an infinite number of chances to earn her love when I disappoint her. In my version of heaven, God is as hardcore as my dad and as compassionate as my mother.

This probably came as a bigger shocker to myself than to the people who know me well, but I spent so much time believing that I absolutely had to fit into a certain prescribed ideal that I began to lose track of who I actually am - what I actually want - and what I actually believe in.

I stopped living an intentional life - a life I could take ownership over and be proud of. I started to live the life I thought was expected of me.

And while it's thrilling to realize this at such an early age, I recognize that it's also come at a devastatingly large price. One I never really recognized until now.

It is still a work in progress for me. 

Now that I've realized some of the traps of the formula, and the need to push past it, I'm struggling to determine what it all means for what lays ahead. I'm not sure exactly what will be the result of all this soul searching, but I am convinced that it would be an ungodly waste (and a foolish mistake) to trade a deliberately lived life filled with euphorically shed blood, sweat, and tears for a safe, untarnished life devoid of intention and meaning.

I'd rather live beyond the formula.

***

It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all, in which case you have failed by default. J. K. Rowling

The flip-side of counting your blessings

Yesterday's post prompted a great discussion with some friends. Before I continue, I would like to note that I believe that finding happiness is a lifelong pursuit, and an on-going battle for a lot of people. I commend the efforts of those who keep fighting and moving forward, in spite of the obstacles they stumble upon along the way. 

I am amazed by the courage and tenacity of loved ones afflicted by heartache, illness, and other tragedies and setbacks. I'm humbled by the efforts of those braving through emotional, physical and spiritual turmoil - and I am honored and inspired by those who have felt comfortable enough to share their stories with me. Thank you so much. 

On that note, today I'd like to critique another conventional (and mildly inappropriate) piece of advice that has been given me when I have been down: "count your blessings." 

DISCLAIMER: I am a firm believer in the power of optimism AND of gratitude. I know that both are wonderfully effective tools that can and will enhance the lives of those who apply it to their daily lives. Having said that, today, I wish to focus on the flip-side of the optimism coin - the one where we condescendingly minimize the real disappointments of real people with real emotions.

Dinner at Red Bones with Bex - one of the bravest women I know.

Scenario:

Someone you know is feeling down, and they've mustered up the courage to admit that they are struggling. Maybe they're feeling depressed about something going on at work or at home. It's possible that they're struggling with something that is either within or outside or their control. In any case, they decided to approach you.

I really can't number how many times the following has happened to me, especially within the last few months. I also can't emphasize enough that while I understand that the council given me came from a good place, it had the opposite of the intended effect. My objective this evening is to raise awareness, and hopefully prevent well-intentioned people from inflicting emotional self-multilation on already vulnerable people.

When confiding in some, I have been met with a dangerous catch phrase: "count your blessings." 

It is actually sound advice...after all, I really believe that that life is usually good. 

So, what's the problem here?

Great question.

Ruby, you taught me one of the greatest lesson I have ever learned about strength and forgiveness. Thank you for giving me numerous second-chances. 

I'm generally a happy person. I'm healthy. I enjoy a level of comfort that suits me. I have a reassuring belief in a God that loves and cares for my personal growth and happiness. I'm well traveled. I'm also fairly accomplished for someone my age. I love my Brazilian culture, and I live in one of my favorite cities in the world. 

In other words, yeah, I'm someone who ought to be sufficiently grateful - plenty of blessings to count. 

Here's the kicker...it is that EXACT knowledge that tears me apart sometimes. I know I ought to be happy. I recognize that I have accomplished more than many dream to reach in a lifetime, and I'm only 22 years old. I know how lucky/blessed I am.

I know.

And that knowledge actually works to make me feel more hopeless when I'm feeling down. Pointing out that I have a lot to be grateful for rips from me the right to feel sad, or dissatisfied with my life. I then desperately seek to push those thoughts away...to bury the hurt, the sadness, the heartbreak. I seek to push it out of my being because it shouldn't belong there.

And the more I try, the easier it is for panic to creep in, and the harder it seems to tighten its grip around me - threatening to choke the life out of my hope.

So please consider my thoughts below.

FIRST: Please acknowledge how difficult it might be for someone to come out and admit that there's something wrong, especially within the Mormon community. Most of us feel pressured to live the illusion that we must lead perfect, holy lives, or else be publicly shamed and condemned (myself included). Many go through great lengths to hide the icky, messy details of their suffering. 

So, if someone admits to having a weakness (this is by no means unique to those who are religious), recognize that they have shown a great deal of courage…and above all else, they trusted you to not be a total d-bag. 

SECOND: Help them alleviate the stress and pressure imposed on them by their own overworked consciences by validating their feelings. It never helps to belittle someone's pain by suggesting that their problems would all go away if they were grateful enough. 

THIRD: This is a hard one for people wired like me...people taught to see the world in terms of black and white - right and wrong. Try to TRUST that your loved ones are trying their best - even if you don't get it. Nobody likes to be babied. Nobody feels empowered when their moral sense and ability to reason are being called into question.

So trust, and have faith and hope that they are trying their best to be happy, whether or not they are doing it your way. This has been the hardest lesson for me to learn in my personal life, but it have helped me so much to stop judging people, and start loving them. 

Which brings me to...

FOURTH: Love them. Love is tricky. It means different things to different people. It comes in many shapes and sizes. Decide what it means for you, and then love the person who is struggling. Love them where they're at. Love them whether or not you understand their pain. Love them whether or not you agree with their actions. Love them even if you have no control over the outcome. Love them whether you feel they deserve it or not.

Just love them.

High school graduation with Clover and Neha - for me, these girls represent compassion personified.

I wish I had recognized these four principles when loved ones have looked to me for compassion and empathy in the past. I confess that I have not historically been the most understanding person. In fact, I have a pretty nasty track-record.

A few years ago, a good friend came to me with similar pains as the ones I'm experiencing today - with similar complaints and anguish of soul. I was unyielding and unkind at the time. I believed that "making the right decision" ought to be easy...because it was right, after all. I did not show my friend respect, trust or love, and I lost my best friend because of it. 

And the greatest tragedy is that I was convinced that encouraging my friend to "count blessings" and be push through the pain was the BEST POSSIBLE THING to do. I was blinded to the reality of the struggles that lay ahead. 

I beg you. Please. Don't make my same mistake. I've learned my lesson, but it's been at a great cost. 

***

I hope you'll add your thoughts to mine in the comments section below. 

I read every single comment and I appreciate you taking the time to read my thoughts. 

Feel free to email me if you'd like to share your story, or ask a question about something I wrote.

On "choosing" to be happy

Okay, I have a confession to make before I dive into today's post. I love reading blogs. Seriously, I can't get enough of them. I lose hours on end scanning my favorite blogs (I wish I were exaggerating).

For me, the best blogs trigger an examination of my core values. I had one of these experiences as I was reading through one of my favorites today: a blog about love.

Today's post is a response to an article I was reading about choosing happiness, "Love Story: Will there be magic?" I recommend reading it through, and assessing your own reactions, before continuing ahead with my post.

[Stop here and read their blog post] ;)

I'm willing to bet that most people have heard some version of the "choose to be happy" speech. If you're anything like me, you might even agree that it has something worthwhile to glean. It appeals to the "pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps" mentality among many of us. We want to believe we're in control of our happiness - because if not, then who is?

...And yet, whatever warm-fuzzies this idea gives me is usually quickly eclipsed by a stronger, more urgent feeling of hot indignation.

Stay with me for a bit here...

As I've been growing up (it's a process), I've believed that a secret to happiness is discipline -- especially over the ever-changing, sometimes explosive emotions that one experiences in a lifetime: anger, hurt, sadness, love. I learned to be skeptical of my inner voice because it can lie. It can trick me. So I chose to fear it, and sometimes shun it. I chose to "be happy" in spite of what I felt.

Don't get me wrong, I agree that happiness should not be predicated upon the "if" statements of life - it ought not depend on if I get into law school, if I can take back the hurt I caused someone I love, or if I can afford to live in a great apartment in Boston (preferably with a balcony and a view).

No - my happiness shouldn't depend on whether I always get my way. So, I believe in choosing happiness as long as it means that I am sincerely finding joy in the journey in spite of what challenges arise, or what patience is required to make my dreams come true.

BUT "choosing" to be happy feels incomplete to me.

It sounds overly simplistic, no? - and maybe even a little insulting. As a human being with real passions and dreams, I find this mentality difficult to relate with. I worry that I'm being attacked for wanting more, and believing that I deserve to fight for more...so we need to further refine this idea.

Allow me to illustrate.

I had a very difficult time speaking up for myself as I progressed into my major in college. I studied International Relations - a major popular among well-informed, middle-class and politically hotheaded Caucasian males. Oy. I felt very out of place.

As an immigrant and a female, I often worried that my peers expected me to stand down. I imagined that I should be happy enough that I had made it to college at all, especially in America. I felt that I should be grateful for my full-ride scholarship, and that showing gratitude meant that I should keep my head down. I was scared of being unconventional, of sounding misinformed, and of rocking the boat. At times, I feared that if I spoke up, I would seem ungrateful.

I was so wrong for thinking this way.

And I'm scared that in "choosing" to be happy, too many people make mistakes like this one. In believing that we ought to accept our circumstances passively, we put out the fire burning within us. We pass up opportunities for greatness. We waste away our potential.

So, here are my two cents...

Choosing to be happy is not enough.

I experience a knee-jerk twinge of disgust whenever I hear that I can "choose" to be happy because it feels like these voices are pressing me to settle for less, which is completely against my nature, my faith, and the God I believe in. It feels like I am being told that I should be less than what I am capable of.

As well-intentioned as it seems, I fear that those voices would have be embrace silent mediocrity and fall into submission to voices louder, and stronger than my own.

And mediocrity makes me cringe. It might be my greatest fear - to reach for less than what I am capable of achieving. To live less, laugh less, speak less, love less than I am able.

It's difficult to draw a line between finding joy in the journey and resigning myself to unfortunate circumstances.

I've made terrible mistakes as I've tried to strike that balance.

I could have spoken up more in college, in spite of my insecurities. I could have learned more by being willing to risk failure. I could have fought more and waited more for the things I wanted most - the things I loved. Instead, I shrunk back. I chose to accept my circumstances and succumb to them, and I regret it every day.

So here's my theory:

Instead of "choosing to be happy," I'd rather choose to be the master of my fate (See "Invictus" by William E Henley).

I believe in being happy about where you're headed. I believe in finding beauty in your best efforts, even when they are not enough...even when you fail. And you will fail, beautifully.

I believe in letting go of the things that we can't change...but fighting like hell for the things we want that are within our control.

There is NO way that I'm ever going to subscribe to the "this-is-good-enough" mentality. I never want to shrink back because of fear or pressure, though it's tempting and incredibly comfortable.

I believe there is glory in giving your dreams your all, even if giving it your all means you fail - and I have failed, time and time again - at a great cost to myself and those I love most...but I believe that failure can become a sacred experience that unites mankind with deity as we avidly seek to become better, and to learn from our mistakes, and press on igniting the fire burning within our souls.

So, yeah, I'll choose to be happy.

I'll choose to try to let go of the past wrongs I can never take back - those that still keep me up at night. I'll believe that there is grace and forgiveness, even for someone as mixed up as me.

But I will never be "fine" with being less than what I'm capable of being. I refuse to settle and accept the cards I've been dealt. I refuse to go down without a good fight. I refuse to give up on my passions, my loves, my dreams.

I am the captain of my soul.