What Is Real?

That's the question that the Velveteen Rabbit asks of the Skin Horse in the nursery one day. This week I picked up my copy of "The Velveteen Principles" and tried to wade into it again. Thinking about being real is hard for me.

Growing up I assumed the role of peacemaking-entertaining-starchild. I somehow got the idea it was my job to make everyone happy. It's been an exhuasting life. All the while I really wishing to come out from behind my mask and be real. I got so good at my role that people thought it was the real me--how could they not? I was convinced myself.

It's almost been a year since I lost my job. I loved what I did and thought I was doing it well. It took a while to recover. At my one part-time job elder sitting, I have lots of time to think and read and process...and heal. Having this job may have saved my life. All these years I functioned as an ESFP and people expected that from me. But my well was almost empty. I am not so E (extroverted). The real me is more introverted. And I think, too. I had been so busy that I forgot I did that. Not spending all my time "on" and giving myself time to think rather than always reacting emotionally has fed my writing--and I like that.

Occasionally I get brave enough to do a spiritual check-up. One of the places I go to do this is Romans 12. I read through the chapter and ask myself how I'm doing. It's one of those passages that forces me to lay down my mask, my pretense, my seeking worth externally and look within and above. The challenge of verse nine, to love sincerely and without hypocrisy, has always stopped me cold. No room for masks there.

And real means I don't have to be perfect. I don't know about you, but that is one difficult pill for me to take. I have always compensated for my lack of self worth by trying to be perfect. It's a twisted way of thinking and a painful way of living. This is where I believe wearing the mask came in for me. Who I was wasn't good enough, was defective, so I determined to be what everybody else needed and if I could just do it good enough, I would be good enough. But I never found enough that way. Enough only came when I was willing to be real, willing to be me with all my faults, fears, and failings.

I wouldn't recommend to anyone learning this lesson the way I did, but it is a lesson to learn. Painful though it has been, I have been blessed to find out that I didn't need to perform to be loved. And I didn't need to be perfect either. In my absolutely most un-perfect state people still loved me and they cared for me and they stayed. Realizing this allowed me to lay down my mask and in doing so I found the strength and the courage to begin to be real. I'm still in the process, but then I'm learning: life is process.

This has had amazing impact on my relationships with my husband, children and friends, but the most significant difference has been in my spiritual relationship. This truth, understanding how loved I am as I am, has made me free. It has freed me up to accepting rather than striving, which in turn frees me to love and serve. For years I preached messages to congregations, all the while wanting to believe the message was true for me. I preached what I so desperately wanted to know for me and it was until I stopped preaching and started listening that I finally knew it was true.

The Skin Horse was right. Being real doesn't happen all at once, and sometimes it's painful, but once it happens no one can take it away! I know I'm stil in process, but I'm okay with that. I don't have to be done or perfect or have it all figured out. That's freeing. That's part of being real...for me.