Here's a Mirror with your Name on: the Gift of an Audience.
Thank you. Thank you for reading, if you read, the things that I write. Thank you for letting me imagine that you do, or that you might have in the past. Whether you might have skimmed it or read it deeply.
I have gotten so much practice at reflecting on and interpreting my life and the events of the day in ways that are meaningful to me and also which occasionally inspire others, sometimes in very profound ways and sometimes in very minor ones. I have had the opportunity to speak about challenging issues at length, and to do so in ways that are sometimes complex and often deeply personal, and in doing so I have discovered many limits in my own thinking and worldview, I've changed my mind more times than I can count, and I have been so much enriched by the experiences, thoughts, views and challenges of others. Some of you have made journeys with me, in dialogue online, in exploring new ways of thinking and talking about our lives. That's wonderful.
And it's increasingly at the heart of what I am trying to do with my life. I was told at seminary recently that I had a wonderful ability to tell stories, one that they might hope some people will leave with, but never dream that someone might arrive with. I'm not as skilled as some of you, and have learned from your example, but have also learned by allowing myself to feel that what I write matters, and that I have an audience that I am writing to. That's so gratifying, and also challenging, and also motivating. When I have something that I feel like I must write quite desperately, if I do not feel like I can post it here or somewhere else I have a similar (albeit smaller) audience, then it feels very much like a missed opportunity.
The praise I received went on to say that not only could I draw out compelling narratives, but that I was quite good at going from there to personal reflections, theological reflections, etc. I think that for a few years much of the reflecting that I did here was about morality, while overall most of it has been personal, sometimes quite deeply so. Psychoanalysis has been another gift in developing those skills, as it involves a guaranteed audience, and a clear reward for doing so. Longer-lived and more influential, though, is this audience - this place, as it were.
Some people love to hear me talk, and I find that amazingly wonderful and also quite terrifying. With that comes considerable power and with power still greater responsibility, especially in religious contexts, especially in leadership roles. You all have helped me find my voice and encouraged me to do so, and gratified me with your eyes and ears and the reflections you have shared in kind. It is not that I have learned to please my audience as such, but that you as an audience (and of course many have come and gone over the years) have let me play out what comes naturally. I've figured out what works and what doesn't for me, and have been allowed and encouraged to post things that are challenging. Nobody ever comments to say that my writing sucks that day, but I sure know when I think that my writing sucks that day. And I know when it's so good that I can't not post it. And when I treasure it so much that I should perhaps find a different venue, where I can hold it a little more tightly and closely, and insulate myself in doing so. Learning what to withhold is important, too. I have learned things to not say because I will get responses which will be uncomfortable to me in the place from which I would say them. That's not a bad thing, because it's not some problem with anyone else, it's not even a problem at all. I've learned to value and take seriously my vulnerability and my needs.
So, thank you, whether you've been here for a decade (and I don't think any of you have, now) or for a week. Whether you came for the politics, the reflections on morality, our friendship, at the behest of some mutual acquaintance, out of some interest in or other kind of relationship with me, etc. You've let me feel like I can speak through a megaphone when I need to, and in whispers when I care to; directly when it suits me, and abstractly in kind; personally and broadly; intellectually and intuitively. And so on.
I love you all, really.
I have gotten so much practice at reflecting on and interpreting my life and the events of the day in ways that are meaningful to me and also which occasionally inspire others, sometimes in very profound ways and sometimes in very minor ones. I have had the opportunity to speak about challenging issues at length, and to do so in ways that are sometimes complex and often deeply personal, and in doing so I have discovered many limits in my own thinking and worldview, I've changed my mind more times than I can count, and I have been so much enriched by the experiences, thoughts, views and challenges of others. Some of you have made journeys with me, in dialogue online, in exploring new ways of thinking and talking about our lives. That's wonderful.
And it's increasingly at the heart of what I am trying to do with my life. I was told at seminary recently that I had a wonderful ability to tell stories, one that they might hope some people will leave with, but never dream that someone might arrive with. I'm not as skilled as some of you, and have learned from your example, but have also learned by allowing myself to feel that what I write matters, and that I have an audience that I am writing to. That's so gratifying, and also challenging, and also motivating. When I have something that I feel like I must write quite desperately, if I do not feel like I can post it here or somewhere else I have a similar (albeit smaller) audience, then it feels very much like a missed opportunity.
The praise I received went on to say that not only could I draw out compelling narratives, but that I was quite good at going from there to personal reflections, theological reflections, etc. I think that for a few years much of the reflecting that I did here was about morality, while overall most of it has been personal, sometimes quite deeply so. Psychoanalysis has been another gift in developing those skills, as it involves a guaranteed audience, and a clear reward for doing so. Longer-lived and more influential, though, is this audience - this place, as it were.
Some people love to hear me talk, and I find that amazingly wonderful and also quite terrifying. With that comes considerable power and with power still greater responsibility, especially in religious contexts, especially in leadership roles. You all have helped me find my voice and encouraged me to do so, and gratified me with your eyes and ears and the reflections you have shared in kind. It is not that I have learned to please my audience as such, but that you as an audience (and of course many have come and gone over the years) have let me play out what comes naturally. I've figured out what works and what doesn't for me, and have been allowed and encouraged to post things that are challenging. Nobody ever comments to say that my writing sucks that day, but I sure know when I think that my writing sucks that day. And I know when it's so good that I can't not post it. And when I treasure it so much that I should perhaps find a different venue, where I can hold it a little more tightly and closely, and insulate myself in doing so. Learning what to withhold is important, too. I have learned things to not say because I will get responses which will be uncomfortable to me in the place from which I would say them. That's not a bad thing, because it's not some problem with anyone else, it's not even a problem at all. I've learned to value and take seriously my vulnerability and my needs.
So, thank you, whether you've been here for a decade (and I don't think any of you have, now) or for a week. Whether you came for the politics, the reflections on morality, our friendship, at the behest of some mutual acquaintance, out of some interest in or other kind of relationship with me, etc. You've let me feel like I can speak through a megaphone when I need to, and in whispers when I care to; directly when it suits me, and abstractly in kind; personally and broadly; intellectually and intuitively. And so on.
I love you all, really.