Spaciousness

At the end of the summer, I’ll be leaving Schenectady for Kentucky to study at the Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary. I will be packing up my apartment in the Stockade, saying goodbye to my friends at the City Mission and driving to the horse country, which will be a much different reality than my current surroundings.

As I prepare to make this transition, I am learning new truths about myself and what areas of my life continue to be enmeshed in the process of maturation. These growing pains are natural, I know. But they can, and often do, catch the one growing completely off guard and unprepared.

These observations about myself were recently presented to me in the form of a one-inch professional binder titled “Clergy Assessment Report.” As part of my application process for seminary, I was asked to complete a career assessment at the Samaritan Counseling Center across the river in Scotia.

Over the course of two days, I completed several tests, both in person and electronically. These “instruments,” as they are called, are used to identify my emotional strengths and weaknesses, leadership potential, personality type and interest inventory - in other words, a glimpse into what makes me click and what makes me tick.

I thoroughly enjoyed the assessment, willingly searching my inner recesses for answers to personal questions and emotional responses. I felt open to whatever observations would be made about me, especially what may be revealed about my own limitations.

However, it’s one thing to intellectually acknowledge that one might have certain hang-ups and unhealthy habits, but it’s an entirely new and unsettling feeling to have a stark white clinical analysis of one’s inner musings and interpersonal pitfalls.

After several weeks, I was mailed the final report. This seemingly innocent stack of papers, neatly divided between typed file labels, delineated my personhood with a display of colorful bar graphs and text-filled paragraphs. I quickly scanned the first couple of pages with deep curiosity and a yellow highlighter. And then my questioning began.

Is this really me? Do I actually do this? Do I really think like this? Is this how I react?

The experience of reading myself on paper was uncomfortable, to say the least. I think what alarmed me the most was the fear that what was so neatly typed out before me did not leave room for the true me - the me that is constantly evolving and changing, the inner self that is in a perpetual state of becoming.

Was there room for the new me that will arrive tomorrow, after having experienced today’s set of choices and circumstances? Was there room for the hidden me that I suppress unintentionally during times of stress or confusion, or when I just have to “get the job done?"

And most importantly, was there room for the me that I have always been and always will be, which defies being defined or labeled. The inner me, the constant me. The core… of me.

During this time, I was equally unnerved about the doubts I was starting to feel about going to seminary in the fall. Having visited the campus in Louisville just a few weeks ago, I returned feeling that I might not find a place for myself among the other students, class work, discussions and overall life on campus.

Just as my sense of self was being held in question through the career assessment report, so too was my spiritual bedrock and personal beliefs. At least, so I thought.

If I go to seminary, will my belief systems be judged, questioned and worse yet, debunked or unacknowledged? Will I feel comfortable expressing myself openly among others with different understandings of G-d and spirituality?

Will my privately crafted thoughts on theology be stripped down to a set of silly assumptions and beliefs that won’t hold weight over time? And if I still maintain those beliefs, will I feel boxed in by curriculum and conversations that I find myself in?

Then, in an important conversation with my pastor, I was reminded that “the only boxes are the ones we put ourselves in.” If that is true, and in most cases I believe it is, then what was holding me back?

Why was it that I felt so hemmed in? How was it that my limitless sense of self suddenly felt capsized and made miniature? Why did I suddenly feel so restricted? Was it really the school? Was it really the words on the page of my assessment report?

Or, as my pastor noted, was I creating my own box? And if so, couldn’t I in equal measure, break through the confines and give myself some much needed space?

It is not so much physical room that I seek, in the form of a bigger apartment and less clutter or even an open meadow outside my city window. And it's not even temporal space I am craving, in the form of extra time or a day off, although I do need that sometimes.

The kind of spaciousness I am attempting to grasp and even cultivate is something untouchable, intangible. Yet, as I was reminded, it is always accessible.

It is a willingness to be who I am in all circumstances. It is accepting that I react to life and people and my surroundings in unique ways, and those capacities and modes of response are in a constant state of change.

Spaciousness refers to a broadened scope and range of experience and thought - an inclusiveness in our own way of being, and a deep acceptance of ourselves and others.

This concept reminds me of a phrase my mom has used. A registered nurse and natural people person, my mom has learned the gift of giving people space to be themselves. Having come across people of all walks of life, she has noted, “You have to give others a wide berth.”

And I would add to that, we each need to give ourselves a “wide berth.”

In researching the origins of this phrase, I learned that the reference “wide berth” was originally a nautical term. Sailors would be warned to keep a “wide bearing” off another ship, in order to prevent collision. The idea was to maintain enough sea room so the ship could move and dock freely.

One can only imagine the level of destruction if a multi-ton ship were to try to fit precisely into a narrow docking space. Considering the moving waves and surrounding boats, it's likely that such a ship would crash head on into the closest object.

However, with enough room allowed for error, movement and the natural force of ocean waves, the ship will likely settle into its allotted space, free from harm and fully intact.

A similar degree of spaciousness is required for humans. Such openness allows a certain flexibility of self amidst life’s obstacles. As circumstances and environments change, we must retain the ability to shift and stretch in the ways we experience the world and explore different ways of responding to what we encounter.

This doesn’t necessarily mean I, or others, have permission for careless self expression that disregards boundaries and healthy human interaction. In fact, there is a certain danger in taking on a purely open-ended approach, whereby one’s mind goes every which way, leading one to have difficulty making commitments or sticking to one direction.

As my friends and family have noticed, I’ve done quite a bit of lane changing and redirection during this past year, leaving myself and others confused about where I am going and why. However, when considering various pathways and opportunities, I believe a high degree of open-mindedness, and as my mom would say, “a wide berth,” is necessary.

I have found that it is during these moments of indecision and uncertainty when G-d works most boldly in my life. And it behooves of me to not be so attached to a particular outcome or direction that I end up disregarding G-d in this process.

The truth is, I don’t know if I will be content in Louisville or if my theological questions will be nurtured or developed in the way I hope they will. But another truth is, it is not up to Louisville Seminary to make sure that happens. It is my own boundlessness and curiosity that will ensure my happiness.

It is also my responsibility to take the contents of my “Clergy Assessment Report,” and view it through a spacious lens - allowing myself to see the findings at least interesting, if not instructive and insightful.

The pages in that report are not “be all end all” determinants of my decision making capacity over a lifetime. Instead, what has been revealed shows certain trends and observations about my way of thinking and relating to others, which will create a deeper level of self-awareness.

In both cases, it is my responsibility to step outside of the box, if I feel walls building up around me. And it’s also important to recognize when that box, or that dock, or those walls, or that ceiling is of my own making.