shoulds
“The days turn into months, the months turn into years, so just for a moment, let’s be still.” (The Head and the Heart, “Let’s Be Still”)
Intentionality vs. spontaneity is a conversation my husband and I had on the front end of this year’s annual ‘goal summit,’ a little meeting we have each New Year’s Day. There exists a tension between being intentional about one’s life and living spontaneously and the key is to keep them balanced. We have spent our married life in church movements that have a theme of purposeful living running strong. “You have only one life to live, so make it count!” I suspect our 21st-century American culture which values productivity, doing rather than being, contributes to it as well. And obviously, we’ve been intentional about meeting each January to set goals for the year. But is it something God values? Is there a need for more being, for more contemplative living, for making room for spontaneity?
Lurking there in the shadows are the shoulds. There is an inherent sense of obligation if one focuses on doing rather than being. More contemplative living opens the opportunity to be rather than do, and brings peace and strength for when the ‘doing’ becomes necessary.
Two mothers I know well struggled during the month of December with all of the fun activities and crafts and experiences they should have been doing with their kids, recommended by social media accounts bent on making us all feel less than. Simultaneously there were nagging feelings of, “I should visit my grandmother” or “I should serve at our church’s food pantry” or “I should clean my house.” Both ladies were overwhelmed and dealing with personal challenges, but still felt this pressure to do more than they felt they could, and then the guilt quickly followed. One of them told me that she has decided to stay off social media next December and not feel the weird pressure from friends and strangers to do lots of crafts and advent calendars, go see the Chinese lantern festivals and Christmas parades, or make sure her kids are at the Christmas program rehearsals. She’ll say “no” to some of the party invites, and reject absurd spending.
Though I suspect young moms feel this most keenly, I see people all around me feeling like they need to serve/give/save more, be at every event, work harder, spend more time with their aging parents, etc., etc., etc. I struggle with it, too. It can be crippling when you live in a culture that values productivity and intentionality. Is it possible to live in this world but not be of it? Can we reject the shoulds, and just be? What awaits us there?
Here in my seventh decade, I am determined to beat back these ungodly feelings of obligation and help others to do so. I sometimes project myself back to my youth when I was not always available via electronic communication, didn’t have access to everyone’s information and ideas, and remember what it was like to be bored. I had obligations, I was productive, I was intentional. But I also had lots of face-to-face real conversations with people, spent time with an actual Bible in my lap, took naps, wrote with a real pen in my journal, and felt less anxiety related to measuring up to so many impossible standards. There were enough in real life; thankfully there weren’t hundreds of influencers screaming at me from their Instagram accounts. I don’t think I could have survived that.
In our modern world all this is coming at us constantly and forcefully. How can we find that place of stillness, peace, and uncomplicated living? I think part of the secret is staying focused on building deep relationships, and remembering that is the most important thing. Not the big, flashy accomplishments of ministry or work or scholarship or influence. If those things are present, did they come at the cost of relationships? What casualties lie along the road to worldly greatness? Could I be satisfied with obscurity if my relationships were healthy and loving? Can I tame the beast of shoulds and just be with God and my people?
Turn on some acoustic guitar and lay on the floor with your eyes closed.
Let the dishes go undone and tickle your 5-year old.
Watch the birds or squirrels outside your window.
Hug your husband for sixty seconds.
Knead dough.
Take a walk.
Swing.
Just for a moment, let’s be still. Just let life happen. See what God will do. Move only when He says, “move.” Be with your people. Just be with them.