spiritual experience

My value is not contingent upon my usefulness

I have a friend who frequently calls me to tell me how overwhelmed he is and, ironically, I allow this to overwhelm me. This is one of the challenges of being an empathetic person. I feel what others are feeling and often have a difficult time separating their feelings from my own. I call this being emotionally porous.

I’m learning to look for the space between other people’s feelings and my own, however. I’m starting to understand that, even if I can feel what they feel, I am not obligated to take action, to offer advice, or to try to solve every problem within my vicinity. But this has been a long, painful process. 

After much reflection and discussion with people more well-equipped to understand these things than I, namely my therapist and my spiritual director, I have found there are many reasons why, in the past, I have felt so driven by some overwhelming invisible force to try to fix every problem presented to me. All of these reasons point back to one thing, however, and that one thing is fear. 

For whatever reason, I have a deeply seated fear that, I am only worthy of love to the degree that I am able to fix everything and everyone around me. It’s not my essence or my nature as a human being that makes me lovable. Rather it is my ability to solve other people’s problems. 

This belief that I am only lovable to the degree that I am useful, I have discovered, is at the root of much of my restlessness, anxiety, and insecurity. While this self-belief seemed, in the twisted way that an abusive relationship seems to be normal when one is in the midst of it, to serve me for some time, for most of my life in fact, when it started causing me more problems than it was solving, something had to change. 

But change of this sort is rarely, easy. To stop doing something one has done for most of one’s life doesn’t usually happen all at once. It’s a slow, arduous process. Along with therapy, spiritual direction, and prayer, I can honestly say that the most profoundly perspective altering practice I have ever taken up in this regard has been meditation in the form of centering or contemplative prayer. 

While therapy has helped me to understand why I have these unhealthy tendencies, spiritual direction has helped me to see that other people’s problems are neither my fault nor my responsibility, and prayer has brought me into a relationship with a God who can and wants to change me into a healthier, happier version of myself, centering prayer has created the space within my heart and mind to make growth possible. 

The fascinating thing is that centering prayer, or any form of meditation, does not address the issue directly. Instead, through regular practice, it simply gives one more internal space, a buffer of peace if you will, between stimulus and response. By regularly practicing silence and non-attachment to my thoughts and feelings, I don’t always feel the overwhelming urge to respond to the problems presented to me like I once did. 

Of course, my old habits and patterns still come up. They are rooted deeply in my psyche and those roots are difficult to dig up. When they do, however, I can better see them for what they are. That is to say, I am able to see that these thoughts and feelings are just thoughts and feelings. They are not who I am. 

As a result, my relationships are starting to feel healthier. I can listen to problems without making them my own and without feeling the need to solve them or give advice. Not only that, but I no longer feel guilty about letting someone else have their own problems. As much as I am not my own thoughts and feelings, I am beginning to realize that my value is not tied to my usefulness to others. 

My value is God-given, as I am a child of God created in God’s very own image and likeness. It is not what I do, what I think, or how I feel that gives value to who I am. There are no conditions on God’s love for me. I am his child, his creation, and his beloved, and my very existence is a divine gift to be cherished and appreciated for the very fact that it is from God. I am not lovable because of what I do. I am lovable because I am. 

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. 

Grappling with mental, emotional, and spiritual health issues

In Brazilian jiu-jitsu, a martial art most well known for specializing in ground grappling, the goal is to pin and control your opponent and then submit them with either a joint lock or a strangulation. John Danaher, who many consider the sport’s greatest coach, describes it as “The art of control that leads to submission.” Greg Souders, another prevalent voice in the sport, describes jiu-jitsu as “The game of immobilization as it leads to strangulation and breaking.” 

However one chooses to describe it, the general idea of jiu-jitsu is the same: take your opponent to the ground and, using superior angles, positioning, and leverage, make it difficult or impossible for them to escape. Then, isolate and attack their arm, leg, or neck, and apply sufficient force to either break said arm or leg or cut off the blood or oxygen supply through the neck until your opponent taps in submission. 

Of course, this is all easier said than done. Every advantage must be earned when dealing with a fully resisting opponent or training partner. The person you are trying to pin and submit is also trying to pin and submit you. It’s a constant struggle. It’s a battle of wills as much as it’s a battle of skill, pride, strategy, and athleticism. Everything in jiu-jitsu matters, and nothing in jiu-jitsu is easy. That’s one of the reasons it is such a rewarding practice to participate in. 

With this in mind, a shared joke in jiu-jitsu is to yell, “Just stand up!” When someone is pinned and struggling to escape, it’s simple advice but often quite difficult to act on, especially against a resisting opponent and the force of gravity working against you. For this reason, “Just stand up!” is often said with sarcasm and received with scorn or laughter, depending on the recipient’s mood. 

Much like “Just stand up!” in jiu-jitsu is absurd advice to give someone who is pinned under a resisting opponent, “Just get over it!” is ridiculous advice to give to a person suffering from grief, depression, anxiety, trauma, addiction, or some other psycho-emotional ailment. While it may seem like helpful advice from the onlooker’s perspective, it is often less than useless for the person struggling with whatever issues they are experiencing. These usually well-intentioned comments can even exacerbate the recipient’s mental, emotional, or spiritual health issues by diminishing their seriousness and making it seem as though it is merely a lack of effort that is preventing them from being overcome. 

Like jiu-jitsu, our mental, emotional, and spiritual health is complicated. Many forces are working against us as we try to persevere through this thing we call life. While those of us being pinned by another jiu-jitsu practitioner would love to “Just stand up!” and those of us grappling with mental, emotional, and spiritual health issues would love to “Just get over it!” there’s usually more to it than that. As hard as we are fighting, our opponent is also fighting back, and sometimes we are outmatched. 

Sometimes, our opponent is bigger, stronger, faster, or more skilled than us, and we cannot escape our difficulties alone. Sometimes, we need help. This is true in both jiu-jitsu and in life. No one ever became a jiu-jitsu world champion without a coach, or several coaches, and a variety of skilled training partners. If you are struggling with mental or emotional health issues, don’t assume you can do it alone, either. 

When I was at my absolute lowest in my addiction, I had to come to accept that I could not overcome my problem by myself. I needed help. My parents helped me get into rehab. The rehab facility helped me get into a halfway house. The halfway house helped get me in touch with people who could lead me out of addiction and into a spiritual experience that would solve my problem. It took the proverbial village to raise me from spiritual, emotional, and psychological death. 

Likewise, many years later, when I finally admitted that I was struggling with anxiety and depression, I didn’t simply “muscle my way out of it.” I couldn’t. I couldn’t “Just stand up!” and “Just get over it!” I couldn’t do it alone; once again, I needed help. I needed my wife’s support to work through my issues; I needed friends who had been through similar problems and who could recommend good therapists; I required the therapists themselves, and finally, but most importantly, I needed God to guide me through all of this as I found my way back to him. 

Whatever you are grappling with, whether it is another person or your demons, know that you are not the first to struggle with this issue; you won’t be the last person to do so, and you are not alone. Countless other people have had whatever problem you are having and are willing to help you. Don’t waste your time trying to “Just stand up!” or “Just get over it!” You can’t. I couldn’t. We can’t. 

We all need help, and we all need each other. I love you, and we love you. Please do not give up. You are truly not alone. 

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. 

A wave of gratitude washed over me

Some days I am struck speechless by how fortunate I am, not because of any one particular thing or any specific aspect of my life, but because of all of it. I am awe struck by how generous and gracious God has been and continues to be to me, in spite of the fact that I absolutely do not deserve it. 

The little bit of faith and faithfulness that I bring to my relationship with God has been repaid a hundred times over, especially when compared to all of my sin and selfishness. God is truly great. He is merciful, loving, and patient, and he keeps his promises. 

Tonight was just one of those nights when it hit me all at once just how amazing the life God has given me truly is and how grateful I am for it. My day was not particularly easy or even special. In fact, it was a pretty normal Wednesday for me. 

I woke up, made my daughter breakfast, and sat down for my prayer hour. I read some scripture, read a few chapters from some spiritual books that I’m in the middle of, sat in silent prayer for twenty minutes, and wrote my daily spiritual poem. After that, I had my weekly call with a friend for whom I’ve been a spiritual director for many years, and then I went to speak at a local club for people trying to recover from alcoholism. 

When I got home from my speaking commitment, I had lunch, sat down to check on my graduate school application, and listened to a talk on the Carmelite spirituality of St. Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross. Then I took a brief nap before getting my daughter from the bus stop, having lunch with her and her mother, and getting us both ready for jiu-jitsu class. 

A couple of days a week, before teaching my adult class, I teach a small semi-private jiu-jitsu lesson to my daughter and several of her teammates. They are great kids who listen well, love to learn, and don’t mind working hard. Teaching them and watching them grow in both jiu-jitsu and life has become one of the most unexpected bright spots of my life. 

Everything tends to move pretty quickly from there. I teach the kids, then I teach the adults, and then I rush my daughter and I back home to shower, have dinner, and get ready for bed. Every week, on this particular night, as her mother puts her to sleep, I host a Zoom meeting for people who have had or are seeking a spiritual experience in order to overcome alcoholism. It was in this meeting that a wave of gratitude came washing over me. 

None of the things that happened in my life today, absolutely none of them, were things that I ever dreamed of or wished for in my previous life. If you would have told my younger self that this was what my Wednesday would be like as a forty-six year old, not only would I have not believed you, but I would have turned and run the other way. And yet here I am, completely awestruck by this amazing, full life I have today. 

I literally got to spend all day going deeper into my relationship with God and helping other people. What could better? What more could I possibly ask for? It’s as if God has given me a little glimpse of heaven right here in this life. I’m not sharing any of this to brag or boast. This is neither a point of pride nor vanity for me. 

I’m sharing this because I absolutely do not deserve it. I’m sharing it to give glory to God because, without him, none of this would be possible. Left to my own devices, not only would I not have this life and these amazing opportunities for service, but if I did have them, I wouldn’t appreciate them and I would most likely ruin them. 

This is me giving praise to the one who makes the broken whole, who gives sight to the blind, and who allows the lame to walk. God has given me so much and I have given him so little. All I have to offer him is my faith, my trust, and my service, but without him, I’d even mess that up. What an amazing God he is!

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. 

Floating, falling, or being carried

My spiritual journey, that is to say my life’s journey, has been anything but smooth sailing in a straight line. From what I’ve gathered from the other people I’ve known, spoken with, and traveled with along the way, I am not alone in this. In fact, one of the main themes in the Bible is that the spiritual life is not an easy life. The alternative, however, is much more difficult. 

From Adam and Eve to Abraham, from Moses to David, and even Jesus himself, with all of God’s people and prophets in between, no one had a life without challenges. It could even be said that to be a follower of God is to live a life of sacrifice and suffering. This is also true for those who do not follow God, but the things sacrificed and the reason for suffering are different. This difference, it seems, is really the point. 

God does not ask those who follow him to sacrifice meaninglessly. Nor does he make his people suffer without purpose. He promises us that, as long as we act faithfully, our pain, grief, and confusion will all have been for something. It will all for us, not against us. 

It’s not always easy to see this when we are in the middle of it. No one enjoys suffering, not even Jesus. But with him as our example, as our king, our friend, and our savior, we are given hope. We are told not to worry, not to fear, and to trust that God loves us. In fact, we are told that God is love and that we, like Jesus, are his beloved children. 

Sometimes the spiritual journey feels like floating. Other times, it feels like falling. When we look back, I suspect, it will feel more like we were being carried, and being carried might explain the feelings of floating and falling we experience along the way. 

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. 

God’s goodnight kiss

As I finished my daily writing, my wife and my daughter were both fast asleep. Normally, I’d be right behind them, but on this night I was up later than usual. I had overbooked myself that day and I was behind on my work. The fact that I had overslept that morning didn’t help, but I needed it. It had been a long week with lots of jiu-jitsu classes, wrestling practices, appointments, meetings, and a tight schedule all around. 

Normally, I wake up at around 5:30am to do my morning prayers before my wife and daughter get up for work and school, respectively. On this day, I slept until nearly 7am. Actually, we all did. With only one bathroom, this caused quite a scurry to get everyone out the door on time and, being unwilling to give up my morning prayers, which, between my daily readings and meditation usually take about an hour, I was late for jiu-jitsu. I wasn’t scheduled to teach, so it wasn’t really a big deal, but my tardiness set the tone for the rest of my day. 

Fast forward and now it’s time for bed and I still hadn’t finished my writing for the day. So I sat down to write and, of course, I was stuck. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been more of a morning person than an evening person. My creative work is no different. In the morning, if I’m not distracted, the work just seems to flow out of me. At night, it’s much more of a struggle. Being tired doesn’t help. So here I am, past my bedtime, stuck at my keyboard determined to get something out. 

You could say I had writer’s block, but I’ve learned that there is no such thing as writer’s block. What feels like writer’s block is really just pride manifesting itself as fear, frustration, and perfectionism. Somehow writer’s believe that everything they write should be their best work and, if it isn’t, they convince themselves that some mysterious force is blocking them from writing. In actuality, no great creative work happens without a lot of mediocre, or even terrible, work happening first. The key to good writing, therefore, is to just write. 

So I started to get some ideas out. After a lot of false starts, typed and deleted sentences, and prideful disappointment in myself, things began to flow. After about an hour, I finally got to a point where I was pleased enough with what I had written that I was willing to publish it. I posted it to my blog, closed up my laptop, and got myself ready for bed. 

At night, before I lie down, I always go into my daughter’s room to check on her, give her a kiss on the cheek, and say my evening prayers at her bedside. This night was no different, except it was. My routine was the same, but as I walked away from her, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Maybe I was just overly tired. Perhaps it was a sense of release from having gotten through a very long day. But it felt like more. 

I went into my room, laid my head on my pillow, and was struck with a feeling of pure love coupled with a vision, like a waking dream. It lasted but a moment, but in that moment it was as if God uploaded into my consciousness a lifetime’s worth of information all at once. 

What I saw in my mind’s eye was me giving my daughter her goodnight kiss, but I saw it from the outside looking in. Words come up short, but in this single kiss, I could see the love transferred between us. I could see my love for her flowing from me into her, her reception of my love flowing back into me like the closing of a circuit, and God’s love for both of us surrounding us and flowing through the entire relationship. It felt like God gave me a glimpse, even if ever so briefly, into what he sees. 

This experience passed as suddenly as it came to me. Exhausted from the day, I fell asleep. The next morning, I woke up remembering what had happened the night before. As life goes, however, the day’s demands distracted me from reflection. It wasn’t until much later that I was able to really acknowledge and process this experience. In my reflection, I realized how easy it is to ignore, deny, or dismiss these moments and to simply move on with our lives, but I refuse to do so. I can’t. 

These experiences, fleeting glimpses into the mystery of God’s love, leave me longing for more, longing for God, but also extremely grateful that he chose to come to me in this way. Now my task is to not allow this transformative experience to go to waste, to use it, like so many others that I have had like it, as fuel to go deeper, to get closer, and to be still and present more often. But knowing that I cannot manufacture spiritual experiences, that I cannot make God come to me, and that grace is a gift undeserved, the best I can do is 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. 

Fumbling into spirituality

When I was first getting clean and sober over twenty seven years ago, I was told that I had an illness for which the only known treatment was a spiritual experience, a complete personality transformation through the development of a conscious contact with a higher power. Up until this point, I’m not sure I’d ever even heard the word spiritual before, let alone understood what it meant to have a spiritual experience. I did have some concept of God from going to church as a kid and I knew about religion in a general sense, but spirituality was entirely new territory for me. 

This newness may be one of the reasons I was attracted to, or at least not opposed to, this idea that felt revolutionary to me. At that point in my life, religion scared me and I had rejected the idea of God as a teenager, but I was willing, mostly through pain and desperation, to take a shot at this thing called spirituality. And I feel very fortunate that the person helping me at the time, my spiritual director, so to speak, never pushed his own beliefs on me. Rather, he introduced me to a variety of spiritual and religious ideas, books, and teachings, and encouraged me to find my own way. 

In the beginning, however, this all confused me, as I thought I had to construct a higher power for myself from all of the different source material I was studying. I tried to take a little bit from here and a little bit from there, keeping what I liked and ignoring or discarding what I didn’t. It was as if I was working on my own Create-A-God kit with the hope of coming up with a higher power I could trust and rely on. It wasn’t until much later when I realized that, if God is anything, he isn’t what I want or imagine him to be. He is what and who he is, beyond my limitations, expectations, and understanding. 

All of this to say, my first steps onto the spiritual path were clumsy to say the least. I was like a man fumbling around in the dark for a light-switch, bumping into furniture, tripping on the carpet, and knocking over lamps along the way. But the beautiful thing about the spiritual path, especially in the beginning, is that it is broad and forgiving, leaving room for mistakes, misunderstandings, and missteps, and I made many. 

In hindsight, I see that God’s grace allowed me this time of discovery. My curiosity and sincerity have always been rewarded by him with the love and understanding of a patient father, even if sometimes I tested the limits of this patience and he let me know it. But God is forgiving – it’s a good thing too because I have done and continue to do plenty for which I have needed forgiveness – and the longer I walk this path, the more I can feel the truth of this. All he asks is that, whether we call it spirituality, religion, or something more specific, we step forward in faith. If we do this, he will always be there to help us up when we fall. 

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.