I’m in a long term relationship with this lady. And, no I didn’t meet her on Craigslist as far as you know. She’s 85. And she constantly reconnects me to the beauty that I’m missing.
She’s my therapist. And she has this way of seeing the beauty in me when I can’t see it for myself. I can be all confused, holding my head down, lost in whatever problems life brings me and she just has this really simple way of picking my head up and opening my eyes to reality.
There’s just this indescribable feeling of peace that she gives me. I’ve probably said it before out here, but the best way I can describe it is that I often go into her office feeling like my life is in black and white, but when I open the door to leave the world is in HD.
She can see things that I can’t. And gently steers me in the right direction. It’s such a gift to have her in my life. Before her I’d been stuck with a skewed version of who Jesus is because the Christianity I grew up with was religion.
So, when I showed up in her office the first time and saw the picture of Jesus on her wall, my heart sank. Shit. What Jesus represented to me was legalism…religion…hoop jumping…needing to look good. She blew up that model. And showed me true grace. When I told her my story about strippers, she didn’t blink an eye. My head was down. I’d fucked up. I was ready for my punishment. But, she called the stripper an angel. And my heart came to life. I finally got it. I fucked up. But, she opened my eyes to the importance of not assuming things, but looking at the whole story.
And how was she able to do that? Her story. She had told me about her husband. She didn’t shy away from it. I just googled him to get the facts straight. He was a family doctor. And went to prison for taking indecent liberties with a minor.
The article I read about him was from the L.A. Times. The article made sure to point out that he and my therapist wrote a book together on parenting for Christian parents. What a hypocrite right? Well, not so fast. My therapist got the last line in the article saying that her then ex-husband “had many insecurities and that those, coupled with money problems, made him vulnerable to seductive people.”
She was already willing to look at the whole story, even during his trial. Her ex husband didn’t just wake up one day and say, “Today seems like a good day to have sex with a minor.” His whole story paved the way for him to fall flat on his face. To fuck up in a way that most people never do.
It’s weird the timing of me thinking about this, because I just watched “Chinatown” the other night. It’s an old Jack Nicholson movie, directed by Roman Polanski. Polanski had unlawful sex with a minor years ago and has lived outside of the U.S. ever since to avoid sentencing.
I just read some more of his story. His pregnant wife was murdered by the Manson family. Same as my therapist’s husband…he didn’t just have sex with a young girl out of the blue. There was a lot of fucked up stuff inside him that, left undealt with, led him down a horrible path.
There’s a line in his movie that stood out to me. It says, “Most people don’t have to face the fact that at the right time and the right place, they’re capable of anything.” So, instead of pointing fingers at Roman Polanski, maybe I could stand to listen to his story and see that he apologized and has regretted what he did ever since. Walk a mile in his shoes to see that maybe I’d have done the same thing.
I think what Christianity blinded me to at times is that I was capable of anything. I thought I was good. I thought my childhood was perfect. But, man it was more fucked up than I knew. I feel like Christianity kind of backed me into a corner…I had to look good, but in so doing couldn’t really examine the shit I needed to. My darkest shit was hidden, but once word got out about my married self and “the stripper” I was exposed and forced to face what got me there.
The thing is though. I know my story. I know my heart. Other people can see what’s on the surface, but I love telling my story out here, because I get to talk about what’s underneath. And that’s what my therapist has made me comfortable doing. She didn’t jump to conclusions. She listened.
And what’s the reality of the situation? It’s that the former stripper is so far from being a stripper these days. She’s doing great. And her story is what led her to become a stripper. But, that’s so not her. And my story led me to become a Christian. But, that’s so not me. Yeah see…most people don’t have to face the fact that they’re capable of anything…even becoming a stripper…or worse yet, a Christian. :)
I hate the term Christian, because I think that my therapist is one of the few who gets what that’s supposed to mean. And the reason she does is because of the shit she’s been through. Her ex-husband got out of prison. And faced his shit. And years later they actually got remarried. No one is outside the reach of the grace that my therapist’s Jesus passes out. No one is beyond redemption. I think that's what Christianity is supposed to look like.
“Every new day is a gift it’s a song of redemption.” I love that line from Bright Eyes “Jejune Stars”. That’s what grace and my therapist have given me. The ability to see this new life that I’ve been given…every day I’ve been given…as another chance. I’ve fucked up. But man I love getting a do over each day. Redemption is being reconnected to the beauty that you're missing.
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