Everybody, always

Holy smokes, ever do something for like 10 years and then realize you’ve been taking an approach that kinda sucked? I’ve always wanted to help people, I never really knew exactly how, but I knew that I had to have a job that helped in some way. This has always been a part of me, but I was busy being drunk and selfish for a significant amount of time during my formative years and didn’t find coaching until I was like 28. I know this to be true because I fell in love with Psych 101 and loved all my psych classes enough to do the work in college. I’ve invested 1,000s of dollars and hours into trying to understand human behavior and why we do what we do (I have been and am consistently a subject of my own examination). This passion comes from within and is always present. When the doctor told me I had a tumor in my head the second thought I had was “I”m not done helping people yet”. I still feel that way, four years later when I go to my dark place of wanting to leave the earth early, this thought shows up and I write, always hoping to help.

My parents went to a nondenominational Christian church when I was little, but I never really took to it. I think I was born feeling guilty or something. I remember feeling very tentative and shy in Sunday School. I would hide in the little room attached to the bigger room and hope my mom wouldn’t notice. Later, I remember I was scared to say hello to the greeters; the nervousness would start in the parking lot and I’d plan to hide behind an adult, yards away. I would duck into the bathroom right away and hide in a stall for a bit, then I’d want to sit in the very back, on an edge of a row if and when my inadequacy and general not good enoughness showed up and I needed to escape God’s wrath (or the person sitting next to me, both were equally scary for me).


I don’t know how I ended up feeling this way. Everyone was super nice and smiley. I was a scared kid in general, but this was a new level of tension and threat that I didn’t understand. I remember my mom wanted to go to Easter Sunday when I was like 21 years old and I threw such a fit that “I sucked the joy out of it” for my mother, which was an incredibly accurate way of putting it. It wasn’t even worth it to her anymore so they started to load up and I felt like such a brat that I jumped in, sulking. I endured the hour production of the rebirth of Jesus and it was totally fine, but that feeling of not fitting in and fear of being found out was still with me a decade and a half later.


All that to say, I haven’t exactly been religious at any point in my life. Then, I got a tumor in 2014 and noticed the people around me who were certain about me being okay all shared one thing, faith. It wasn’t always the same kind of faith, some were Christian, some were Catholic, some took a more Eastern, energetic approach, and there were many others, but I was at a point in my life that led me to seek something bigger than myself.


I heard about a center called the Center for Spiritual Living. That made sense to me - their “motto” was and is “prays well with others”. They took a very inclusive approach to spirituality. My favorite practitioner (preacher) was raised hardcore Catholic and converted to Buddhism later on in life. In any one sermon, a practitioner would reference numerous religions, gods, books, etc. The Bible and the Tao and the Koran would all be referenced to convey a message of love or tolerance or acceptance or whatever the message was about that Sunday. Finally, a house of worship that made sense to me. Everyone was welcome, the demographics of that church were far more diverse than the church I grew up in. It was a bit intimidating, and I liked it.


I started to step into the practices and beliefs of CSL, called Science of Mind which is a synthesis of philosophy, science, and religion. It made sense to me and I needed something to lean on so without consciously deciding this was going to be my new religion, I started doing the things that people who believe in Science of Mind do. I prayed like them, I read what they read, I wrote like they wrote, I even told people about it - lots of them. In that sense, I realize now, I was spreading the gospel in a way. I didn’t know it, but I had become a member of established dogma, I’m really only realizing this now as I type.


I’ve always been a bit anti-dogmatic, choosing to lean more towards every man for himself, free to figure it out on his own, as long as no harm is done to himself or others, I think this was what was so attractive to me about CSL, it drew from all religious practices and was based on the premise of oneness and inclusiveness. I was definitely not interested in reading Biblical texts for a while, I didn’t want other’s ideas pushed on me, etc.


Then I heard a podcast called Story Brand by Donald Miller. He was interviewing or telling a story about a Christian named Bob Goff. Bob Goff has a book and an organization called Loves Does and is a modern-day disciple (my interpretation). I recently read Bob’s Everybody, Always. It’s a book about loving everybody, always, even the ones you don’t want to; even the ones who don’t think like you, look like you, dress like you. Especially those ones. The ones who scare you, the ones who creep you out. Do as Jesus would do, that is his message. He has a chapter in the book called the cost of grace. He comes to the conclusion that the cost of grace is about $9.95 by way of a chance misdial from an inmate. His storytelling is humble, captivating, and compelling, forgive my synoptic version and read the real one, it’s worth it.


So, long story shorter, Bob gets a call from an automated voice saying someone was calling him from prison, press “1” to accept the charge ($9.95). He didn’t know anyone in prison, but figured why not? He is a person dedicated to serving and helping others, if someone was in prison, maybe he could help….and so the story goes.


I finished reading that chapter about 3 days ago. Two days ago I got a call from a number I don’t know, I let it go to voicemail. The message was from a call service company for prisons. I googled the number to make sure it wasn’t a scam, got mixed reviews, and felt leary about the whole situation. I called the number and was assured it wasn’t a scam. I ended up loading $5.00 onto the account with a $5.95 service charge, but not without hesitation. I had to tell myself it could be written off as a business expense (I’m incredibly frugal, working on becoming more generous). Turns out with inflation, the cost of grace is now $10.95. By opening the account; the person who called now had funds available to connect the call if he/she tried again. Sure enough, I got a call later that evening. I answered and heard scuffling. I said hello and heard a woman saying it was the wrong number. I asked her if there was anything I could do to help, she replied “I don’t even know why you would accept the call” and hung up. Pretty anticlimactic, but I never would have done the work to find out if it was a legit call and loaded the money onto the account if I hadn’t read Bob’s book. It was uncanny how similar the experience was and only 24 hours later.


I believe there is something to be gained from every experience and I am always learning, always focused on becoming a better version of myself, which to me means focusing on what’s wrong with me and what I need to do to fix myself. It’s fucking exhausting. Upon reflection of this experience with my husband, what I saw is that my strategy to help people (remember, this is my original goal) isn’t working. I’ve been really focused on the wrong thing - myself.


I’ve felt like I had to fix myself so I could help others. This isn’t true. If I just assume I am already okay, I can focus on my goal - helping people. Bob’s whole book is about being love, for everybody, always. If your focus is inward, you don’t see the people who need help. His argument is to be like Jesus (this kind of communication can be hard for me sometimes if I’m honest, so I just replace it with the word love), which means to go to the sick, diseased, poor, etc. Actually DOING this is where happiness and wholeness live.


In the language of spiritual/religious texts, we are seen in the likeness of God or of having spirit flowing through us or as light or energy. All interpretations I’ve read or been exposed to assume we start whole and capable. I’m sure there are other ideas, but for the sake of this conversation, I’m going to lean on what I’ve come to understand in my own exploration. If I count myself as being a part of this interpretation (because I’m a human, like everyone else) it allows me to assume I’m capable of action NOW. All I’ve wanted to do is feel like I’m helping people and I never have, because I’ve been focused on the wrong strategy - trying to fix myself.


I’m starting a new strategy, finding the people who need help and doing whatever it takes to help. It’s simple, it’s clear, it’s being love.