simple joy

The Tough Girl. The Party Girl. The Good Girl.[1] We all know one – the second cousin who is as tough as nails, the colleague who can’t keep herself away from a crowd and the bottle, a sister who has always been the saint. We all are one [to one degree or another]. Whether our story is one of little “t” trauma or big “T” Trauma, we live in a world that is definitively bent. It is only a matter of time before we encounter “a deeply distressing or disturbing experience.”[2]  The hopeful reality is that we don’t have to stay stuck in or be defined by our story.

Depending on how we are wired and the circumstances in which we find ourselves, we navigate our way to one of these personas. We hide. We do what it takes to survive. Self, others, relationships, and the world begin to be filtered by our façade until self and mask enmesh, and the two become one.

Then we grow up. And one crisply bleak morning, we awaken and realize we have spent our entire life surviving. Somewhere, somehow life has become something that happens to us rather than a story we enter into. Damn.

Yet, perhaps the moment we name the reality that we’ve been among the walking dead is the very same moment we truly begin to live. We realize the shadows of our story’s past are not the end. There is more to the story. All these years we’ve been stuck on page three or four, utterly unaware of chapters two, seven, ten, and ninty-two waiting to be written. Our lives are nothing short of treasured novels in the midst of a deeper, much larger story, unfolding moment upon moment.

And so, to my Tough Girl sisters, may you discover Love that cannot harm, even if He wanted to (which he doesn’t). To my Party Girl sisters, there is Love that fills, and cleanses, He is a true Gentleman. And to my Good Girl sisters, may you journey to a place of encountering Love who cherishes you (not what you do). May we, moment upon moment, turn our face to the face of Love and receive all we need to begin to let the mask melt.

By Kjersten Halvorsen, MA | 719.232.4132
Return to: http://KjerstenHalvorsen.com

“He felt that most people saw his mask, but that the bishop saw his face.”
-Victor Hugo (Les Miserables)

What is my true face? Who sees the real me?

With the dawn of networks like Facebook and Twitter, immersed in a society that is increasingly me-centered, where is the line between being oneself and self-promotion?  How does one walk the road of portraying an identity versus relating out of an identity already established?

According to Facebook I have 1,053 friends. That means if I meet with two friends a week it would take over ten years to see a friend twice. I would be forty years old before I saw some of you, fifty if we were to meet again.  Frankly, I’m not okay with this.

What is it, then, that has kept my face, your face, our faces on Facebook? I’m sure many of us would rather not own the fullness of that answer.  True, it is a convenient way to stay in touch with those we know who are spread across the country, even around the world, and it’s a quick way to keep others posted (literally!) on our own life.

I propose, however, the existence of a darker side to our relationship with Facebook.  Admit it, there are times when we derive some kind of increased value or importance simply based on the number of friends we have displayed on our profile. There are certain photographs immediately un-tagged for fear of being seen in an unwanted light. Even deeper, though, is the reality that I, you, we are afraid of being alone – and even more afraid of becoming known only to be dismissed.

This is not to say social media, in and of itself, is evil, because it isn’t. No doubt people make healthy use of it. I don’t think I’m one of them. When I’m on Facebook I’m liked and noticed, connected and “with” so many people…or am I?

In the midst of the appearance of flourishing relationships, there is a virtual emptiness fostered within the world of social media.  It is not accomplishing what we’ve told ourselves it will accomplish.  Rather than providing a means of knowing and being known or a true sense of connection, for many of us the “me” we are on Facebook portrays much more than she/he relates.

Are we embracing the mess of authentic relating? Or simply perfecting the art of mask-making?

So, what now? First off, conduct a gut-check. Ask yourself the not-so-comfortable questions like, “Am I relating out of a solidly formed identity? Or am I seeking to form or portray an identity that really isn’t me?”, “What emotional needs do I have? Am I attempting to fulfill these needs in a virtual world…or the real world?”, “What is it I most want in life?”, and “What is it I most fear?”.  Be honest with yourself; look at the entire spectrum of your intentions with social media and its ensuing relationships – the good, the bad & the ugly.  Where you go from there is for you to decide.

One thing is sure – you do have a true face, a uniquely fabulous face, divinely designed. Get to know that face. And while you’re at it, begin to seek courage to show glimpses of your face to others; let them cherish the true you.

By Kjersten Halvorsen, MA | 719.232.4132
Return to: http://KjerstenHalvorsen.com

It’s what we really want, isn’t it?

To love & be loved.

…

Recently,  I spent the evening in  Boulder with indie artist Ingrid Michaelson [that is to say I was at her concert].  She has become a recent favorite, her lyrics poetically expressing the longings, desires, tensions, hopes, and fears we know all too well:

And we are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just,
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys

 

Open me up and you will see
I’m a gallery of broken hearts
I’m beyond repair, let me be
And give me back my broken parts

Happy is the heart that still feels pain
Darkness drains and light will come again
Swing open your chest and let it in
Just let the love, love, love begin

Everybody, everybody wants to love
Everybody, everybody wants to be loved

It’s where we land. It’s where we live.

So simple.

Incredibly profound.

And it’s all in shambles.

If we are one ounce of honest we know we are all incredibly skilled at messing up love.  We’re bent (that’s how Dan Allender puts it).  The very thing we long for, we thwart and block and hide from. We love and long for love out of the wounds and lies we’ve incurred along life’s winding path. We’ve never known love in its pure form.  We’ve never known Love himself.

And so, He allures us.

Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. [hosea2]

Such beauty. Such strength & tenderness. It’s His brutal kindness, really, that Love would allure and lead us to a desert place to speak tenderly to our hearts.

May you know what it is to be allured.

To be led to a desert place.

And spoken to tenderly.

May you know what it is to be loved by Love himself.

By Kjersten Halvorsen, MA | 719.232.4132
Return to: http://KjerstenHalvorsen.com