Random Thoughts

Who am I if I am not who I am?

Who am I if I am not resisting? 

Who am I if I am not making my own way? 

Who am I if I am not doing my own thing? 

Who am I if I am not leading? 

Who am I if I am not following? 

Who am I if I do not have an enemy? 

Who am I if I do not have a friend? 

Who am I if I am not what I do? 

Who am I if I am not what is done to me? 

Who am I if I am not what I think? 

Who am I if I am not what you think of me? 

Who am I if I am not what I feel? 

Who am I if I am not what I say? 

Who am I if I am not what I stand for? 

Who am I if I am not what I stand against? 

Who am I if I am not how I look? 

Who am I if I am not how you look at me? 

Who am I if I am not who I am? 

Who is asking? 

Who is ‘I am’? 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations on God and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Is this the kind of dharma you are trying to create

I had a dream last night that still has me contemplating its meaning. In my dream, I was arguing with a plain-clothes police officer because he had unjustly harassed and detained someone. He then turned on me and began harassing me and trying to detain me. 

As I struggled to resist detainment, I saw that the police officer had a set of Buddhist prayer beads on his wrist. I grabbed the prayer beads and said to the officer, “Is this the kind of dharma you are trying to create? Is this the kind of sangha you are trying to create? Is this the kind of karma you are trying to create?” 

In Buddhism, dharma is thought of as the way or the path, the wisdom teachings that lead a practitioner to enlightenment. Sangha is the community of fellow practitioners with whom a person shares the spiritual journey. Karma is the spiritual law of cause and effect wherein a person’s actions have a direct correlation to the type of life that person will have. 

In my sleep, these questions, “Is this the kind of dharma you are trying to create? Is this the kind of sangha you are trying to create? Is this the kind of karma you are trying to create?” just kept repeating in my mind. It felt like I asked them over and over again for hours before finally waking up. Once I woke up, I was in that strange post-dream state where I knew I was awake and my dream was just a dream, but I could still feel the dream as if it was something that I had actually experienced in my waking hours. 

Experiences like this make me question which is more real, our awakened state or our dream state. I suppose both are equally real, but it’s easy to dismiss dreams as less real or even imaginary because they happen when we sleep. Dreams like this, however, that have a profound and lasting emotional and psychological impact because they feel just as or more real than what is experienced in our waking hours. 

I’m still meditating on the significance of and the meaning behind this dream, but the questions it left me with feel like a spiritual puzzle not easily solved with reason alone and which will, therefore, require prayer. For example, who was the plain-clothes police officer in my dream? Who did he detain? Why was I challenging this unjust detainment? Why did he then try to detain me? Perhaps most importantly, however, what kind of dharma, sangha, and karma am I trying to create? 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Finding God at a social media impasse

I’ve begun to notice that the draw to social media is drawing me away from God. It is taking my peace and giving me little in return besides a few fleeting moments of pleasure when I see a new ‘like’ on one of my posts or when I see someone else’s post that makes me smile for a second. But then it leaves me feeling empty, sad, and full of regret. 

I’ve felt for quite some time that social media is a distraction and, worse, an addiction, but for years I have explained this feeling away by telling myself that it is just a tool and, as with all tools, it is useful as long as it’s not abused. While I still agree with this and acknowledge the value of social media if used discerningly, I fear that, like all addictions, it has begun taking more from me than it is giving. 

Historically, I have used social media to promote my business, to share my blog, and to interact with friends I otherwise might not see or talk to. It would not be an exaggeration to say that our business would not be as successful as it is if it were not for social media. Social media has allowed us to connect with and attract people we otherwise would not have been able to. Recently, however, it just feels like noise, like angry, confusing noise. 

I’m not necessarily blaming the platforms. While social media has certainly changed over the years from what it once was, which was a way to connect and interact with friends, into the algorithm and advertisement driven drama machine it is now, I have also changed. When I first got on social media, I was young, lonely, and interested in connecting with like-minded people. As I’ve matured, and especially as I’ve grown spiritually, I’m less lonely and I’m also less interested in connecting with people simply because I agree with or share certain interests with them. I am looking for something deeper. 

I do still enjoy sharing jiu-jitsu videos, funny memes, and even inspirational videos or quotes with friends and family, but it often feels like the price is too high to pay. Wading through all of the politics, divisiveness, and propaganda just to get to the odd post here and there that I find interesting simply isn’t worth it. Whatever amount of momentary pleasure I get is far outweighed by the feelings of anger, sadness, and disappointment I feel during and after I scroll aimlessly through the swamp of unrest that has become social media. 

Truth be told, I’m not sure I’d even notice this in such a profound way if it were not for my spiritual practices. The more God draws me nearer to him, the less satisfied I have become with other things. In fact, the nearer God draws me to him, the more dissatisfied I seem to become with that which is not God.

Today, for example, I had an amazing morning. I woke up, got my daughter ready for school, did my morning prayer hour, went for a walk with my wife, went to jiu-jitsu class, and talked with some of my friends. When I got home, I took a shower, had a healthy breakfast, and sat down to do some writing and reading. All in all, I couldn’t have asked for a better start to my day, but then I checked social media. Immediately, I felt something shift. 

The disturbing thing is that I didn’t necessarily want to check social media. I can’t even say I checked it out of habit. It was more of an urge. It was like I was being pulled in. 

I was having a great day. I felt connected to God, to my family, and to my friends. I couldn’t have really asked for more. Then, just as I was about to go deeper, just as I was about to get into a good book or do some writing, I felt the need to see what other people were doing, what they were saying, and what they were saying about me. And just like that, after only a few minutes of mindless scrolling, my feeling of peace, joy, and purpose all disappeared. 

I knew exactly what happened and it really bothered me. I locked my social media platforms with the Freedom app I recently installed on my phone, and then went back to what I was doing. The whole experience left me feeling really unsettled. 

What made matters even worse, however, and what still bothers me as I write this, is that, while I was reading and again while I was writing, I reflexively grabbed my phone to check social media more times than I care to admit. I did this even though I was locked out of my accounts and even though I didn’t want to. And somehow, not being able to check my accounts made me feel worse, or at least as bad, as when I did check them. 

This is what addictions are, really, isn’t it? They are unhealthy behaviors that compulsively draw us away from God, often against our better judgment and even against our will. What makes addiction so insidious, however, is that it convinces us that it is helping us, that we can’t live without that to which we are addicted, and that stopping will be more painful than continuing on toward self destruction. 

As I sat there processing this experience, I looked at my books, I looked at my prayer chair, and I looked at my laptop, and thought about all of the things I could be doing to deepen my connection with God or to improve my life, and how scrolling through social media is not one of those things. But the whole thing left me feeling helpless because, as much as I couldn’t imagine a life addicted to social media, I also I couldn’t imagine life without social media. I was and am at an impasse, but I also know that at every impasse, God is waiting for us to choose him, and he will always help us when we are willing. 

And so I remain to pray.

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

I reserve the right to give myself a break

I reserve the right to give myself a break.

For years, decades if I’m being honest, I never gave myself a break. I took days off and I took vacations, but I never really rested. I just pushed and pushed and pushed until one day it broke me.

I broke from doing too much, from never slowing down, and most importantly, from not knowing how to say “No.” One day, my whole world came to a screeching halt and my body and mind shut down.

I began to have anxiety attacks. I was forced to take a break. I was forced to rest. I was forced to reevaluate my life and my priorities.

A lot of healing has happened since then, but I still have the capacity to overcommit, to overwork, and to put too much unnecessary pressure on myself. But now, when I feel that happening, I reserve the right to slow down, to unburden myself, and to take a break as needed.

My mental, emotional, and spiritual health require that I rest, but it took me pushing myself to the breaking point to realize that.

Excitement frightens me

Excitement frightens me. It makes me nervous. It’s like I’m afraid of anticipating good things happening to or for me.

I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. It’s as if I can’t believe things could possibly go well for me without a catch. I alway talk myself down from being too excited about anything.

I can’t even accept a compliment without brushing it off, explaining it away, or making it awkward. When someone tells me I’ve done something well, I find a way to downplay it or to look for where I could have done better. I can’t even celebrate my wins because something inside me simply won’t let me.

Maybe I’ve been let down too many times. Maybe I’ve been tricked, deceived, or disappointed too many times. Maybe I just don’t believe I’m worthy of good things without some kind of price being attached to them.

Whatever the reason or reasons, this is no way to live. I need to allow myself to be excited, to accept a compliment, and to celebrate my wins. I don’t know how, but I need to give myself a break.

Your hope may be the only hope someone else has

I know that, in spite of her cheerful and enthusiastic demeanor, my daughter suffers from time to time. She has told me that she gets lonely. As an only child, I fear that we have made it difficult for her to relate to other children.

It doesn’t help that she is different. She is different because she is half-Asian and doesn’t look like the other kids. She is different because her mother and I are older than most of the parents of her peers. She is different because she was raised in a multi-generational household with grandparents to guide and teach her, so she has always been ahead of her grade level. She is different because she is creative, she’s a leader, and she is so damn smart, and I’m not just saying that as a doting father. The truth is that she is smarter than both her mother and myself.

I just don’t want to see her lose heart. I don’t want to see her become cynical. We joke about being weird. I can joke about it now because I have found solace in my weirdness, but it wasn’t always funny. It has also been lonely, painful, and confusing. To her, it is just lonely, painful, and confusing.

She doesn’t understand why the other kids don’t want to play with her. She is frustrated and hurt by the fact that some of the kids who are friends with her one-on-one choose to ignore her play on the playground while playing with other kids who exclude her from their games. She calls these kids “half-friends.” At least she knows that, but that knowledge hurts.

This pains and saddens me. I can feel it in my marrow. I have been there. I have been her. It made no sense to me then and it makes no sense to me now. She is full of life, full of joy and enthusiasm, and as sincere and loyal as they come. Why can’t the other kids see that? Why don’t they see how kind, smart, and generous she is? Why is she excluded? It makes no sense. No child should feel alone and unaccepted amongst their peers.

I know life is not fair, but I refuse to accept the unfairness of this. So we talk about it. I try to make it make sense. I try to give her hope. I tell her she is loved and appreciated, and that she will find her place in the world someday.

It may take a while and it may not be easy, but this is all temporary. And sometimes she cries. And sometimes I cry, but I try to stay strong for her because I know, even if she can’t see it now, there is meaning in all of this.

There are lessons in all of this. It makes no sense now. It feels wrong and it feels unfair. But these struggles will become her story someday and her story will help others through their pain, their loneliness, and their confusion. It is so important not to lose hope because your hope may be the only hope someone else has.

This is the life I would rather be living

I don’t ever want my daughter to feel as though her existence is getting in the way of a life I would rather be living. I want her to feel wanted, appreciated, and cared for. I want her to feel seen, heard, and understood. 

I want her to know that she is important, that she is more important than my personal goals and aspirations, more important than my desires or regrets, and more important than my hobbies and my occupation. 

I want my daughter to know that she can talk to me, confide in me, and come to me for comfort and guidance. I want her to feel safe to tell me anything and to know that, even if I do not always like her choices, she is loved without judgement or conditions. 

I want her to know that there is nothing more important to me than her, that I would and will drop anything and everything if she needs me, and that there is nothing she can ask of me that is too big or too small for me to help her. 

I am not always perfect at this. I make mistakes. I make a lot of mistakes. I put other things before her. I don’t always give her the attention she wants or needs. I am sometimes preoccupied with other things and miss opportunities to see or hear her. But I am trying, and when I make a mistake, we talk about it. I am learning just like she is, and that is important for her to see. 

Children do not choose to come into this world. They have no say in the matter. We make that choice for them and they have to live with our decision. This is something I understood as a child. 

Knowing that I did not make the choice to be here, there were many times growing up where I wished I had never been born. There were many times when I felt like an inconvenience, like there was some other life my parents would rather be living, but they had me instead. Real or imagined, this is what I felt and I don’t ever want my daughter to feel the way that I did. 

This is the life I would rather be living and my daughter is who I want to spend my time with, not because it is an obligation, but because that is the decision that I made when I helped to bring her into this world. 

Promises to yourself

Do your best to keep your promises to yourself. Most people will never know whether you do or don’t, but you will know. Be honest with yourself and follow through on the things you tell yourself you are going to do.

Decide the kind of person you want to be and take the actions that that person would take. This is what the phrase “discipline equals freedom” means. Be the person you want to be by doing what that person would do.

This may mean going to bed at a certain hour, waking up at a specific time, or eating healthier and working out regularly. Maybe you are a writer and you are trying to develop a writing routine. Or perhaps you are dedicated to quitting some bad habit you have.

Whatever it is, be honest with yourself about the actions you want to take and then hold yourself accountable for that decision. No one has to know besides you what kind of promises you make to yourself, but you will know. You wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who constantly lies about what he or she is going to do. Don’t tolerate broken promises from yourself either.

I have more time

A funny thing happened when I lost access to my Netflix account. I decided to do nothing about it to see if I would really miss it. While there have been moments late in the evening when I am restlessly looking for something to do besides what I should be doing, which is sleeping, for the most part I haven’t noticed. I haven’t missed it.

More importantly, however, I have had more time. I have had more to work on things that I’ve been putting off, things that matter. I’m writing more, doing more creative projects, and having more ideas. I feel more open and receptive to what I’m called to do from, as opposed to feeling like my attention is being pulled toward some distraction.

While there are movies and series I enjoy watching, the truth is that I’ve lived long enough to remember a time before Netflix, or streaming services in general, and I kind of yearn for it. I miss being bored. I miss not having immediate access to so many options and having to find something to do. I miss doing nothing, having no distractions, and enjoying the quiet.

As I write, I’m reminded that this isn’t about Netflix. Netflix is a service, a symptom. I could be talking about YouTube, Facebook, or Disney+.

This is about distractions and what we do or who we are when we don’t have them. It’s about is finding ways to create more space and openness in our lives so that we have the energy and attention for that which truly matters to us.

When I think about the things I want to accomplish and experience in this life, binge-watching Black Sails or re-watchingThe Matrix for the hundredth time is not high on that list. But distraction is more convenient and more comfortable than doing work that matters because work that matters means that I might fail.

So much to write about

There is so much I want to write about, but I get stuck. I get stuck, not because I have writer’s block and not because I don’t know what I want to say, but because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what people will think. I’m afraid that if I share my experience and my feelings, that I will make others unhappy. 

This isn’t an irrational fear. It’s based on my lived experience. For as long as I can remember, my feelings have been a secondary concern. For as long as I can remember, I have had to withhold, reframe, or filter my feelings in order to protect the feelings of others. For as long as I can remember, my feelings have been held against me. 

Since childhood, my experience, or my interpretation of my experience, has been questioned, ignored, or dismissed outright. My truth has been twisted and manipulated until I begin to question myself. I’ve been made to feel like I’m crazy for having needs, for having a voice, and for wanting to be seen and heard. 

This is not self pity. This is my experience, and this is why I’m stuck. I’m not stuck because I have nothing to write about but because I have so much that I want to say, and I’m afraid to say it. But I have to, not because I want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I simply want to process my hurt in a way that others feel seen and heard, and so that my experience may benefit others.