This is the time of year when the Chinese water torture of kids at home over the summer vacation reaches its peak.  There’s got to be a classification of madness in the Physicians Desk Reference for the trauma inflicted on an individual when not able to finish a string of thoughts or even put one together.  Sadly, I join the millions of parents who have only thought fragments lingering in their head with no clear purpose or conviction.

I tried giving false confessions to make the torture go away. “Osama is in the hills between Pakistan and Afghanistan.  Yes ring pops are a great source of vitamins and we will buy more today.”  But the drip of interruptions and stream of friends moving through the house never ends.

One of the few comforts I have is 12 step meetings.  As my addiction and dependency issues are flip sides of the same coin, I hit both an addict meeting and Alanon as often as I can (around 6x a month).  It’s a chance to hear others in some incredibly raw honesty and also to ramble without the fear of judgment.  One of the ways I always felt judged was when well meaning people would give answers.  I don’t need answers, all I need is the chance to confess what’s inside and the answers will be there.  That’s the genius of Bill Wilson, one of the cofounders of AA.  He provided an environment where sharing without “crosstalk” allows for the natural spiritual process to happen.

Anyway, it was at one of these meetings that I heard the words come out of my mouth that I resented my kids for taking away my mind for the summer.  No sooner had I said it, then the judgmental voices in my head gasped, “Why you ungrateful (expletive)!  How could you?”  This of course had the affect of shutting down all avenues to God for at least a couple days.

With some time to reflect, I came to the painful realization that I still carried around this myth that I was going to get “my life.”  It was a bargain I made with God growing up . . . “I’ll put up with this suppression, knowing that someday I’ll get mine.”  But “mine” just means the chance to take care of myself, not control my surroundings at all times.  And the irony is that kids distracting me from my perfectly controlled universe is “my life.”

The Tao says, “You cannot overcome the forces opposing you by struggling now.  Accept this and still yourself.  Self-discipline preserves your strength for use in a more beneficial time.”

Yesterday a friend of mine, Jose, said to me, “Jeff, look at your feet . . . do you see them?  That’s where God has you right now.”  My mind shifted from the elaborate plans in my head to the simplicity of the moment.  I was immediately sad feeling the loss of the “my life” dream.

Never ceases to amaze me though . . . the stuff I still have to let go of at this late stage.  Shouldn’t I have done this by now?

On June 24, 2009 Governor Mark Sanford (R SC) gave a press conference detailing his apologies for an affair he had with his Argentine mistress. After apologizing to everyone he affected, he thanked his friend Cubby Culbertson, whom he calls a “spiritual giant” for his advice and counseling to guide him through the rough times. Here’s an excerpt:

“But what I would say is I’m committed to trying to get my heart right, because the one thing that Cubby and all the others have told me, is that the odyssey that we’re all on in life is with regard to heart. Not what I want or what you want, but, in other words, indeed, this larger notion of truly trying to put other people first. And I suspect, if I’d really put this other person first, I wouldn’t have jeopardized her life, as I have. I certainly wouldn’t have done it to my wife. I wouldn’t have done it to my boys. I wouldn’t have done it to the Tom Davis’ of the world. This was selfishness on my part. And for that, I’m most apologetic.”

What struck me was his take on his mistakes made . . . that he didn’t “put others first.” This seems to be some American interpretation of Christianity gone horribly wrong. It also appeals to the misconception that the “self” is something dangerous that needs to be steered away from as if being selfless was the answer. I feel for the guy because in many ways I went through the same brainwashing as a fundamentalist youth. But what’s shocking in my mind is that putting others first and neglecting his own needs is what got him in trouble in the first place. What do you think? Here’s the problem:

1. It’s dishonest. Really . . . who can put others first anyway? I appreciate the grandiose sentiment, but c’mon.

2. It doesn’t work. If we do put others first then we’re denying too much of ourselves. Carl Jung (my idea of a “spiritual giant”) would say Sanford needs to own the shadow side of himself and become whole. By becoming whole it would reduce his need for another person to be the other half of himself.

3. It’s bad exegesis. Jesus is the one who said, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” presuming that you take care of your own needs first. Yes, I’m aware that the Apostle Paul said some things to the churches that were just starting up, but I’m not sure he’s the guy to lean on too strongly in psychological matters. (Philippians 2:3 . . . “let each esteem others better than himself.”)

4. It goes against the ENTIRE airline industry. We are told to put the oxygen mask on ourselves first if the plane goes down before applying the oxygen mask to our children. (ok, I might be exaggerating a little on this one . . . but doesn’t the analogy apply???)

I don’t mean to kick a man when he’s down, but it’s useful to look at  these fundamentalist politicians with their sexual mishaps. When things get hot, the truth comes out about the soundness of their belief system and sex seems to be the first place it reveals itself.

It may also seem that I’m advocating selfishness and self-centeredness as a truer spiritual path. And a number of Christians preach “abandon your self.” But a better interpretation of any spiritual writing defines the “self” to abandon, as the “ego” rather than the soul that needs care. And personally, the big irony is that by taking care of myself first, I have far more to give than I ever did in my fundamentalist days. So I still think this putting others first thing has got to be called for what it is . . . pathology. It has nothing to do with a true spiritual path.