I just saw the move Suicide Squad. And this blog is not about that. But it made me think. There are so many psychological things going on in that movie. I think that’s how I can tell good screen writing. It’s a mess. There are so many levels in the simplicity of the story.
I just rewatched Avatar: The Last Airbender series. That’s another show with so much psychology. Everyone is a mess. Everyone has a dynamic. It isn’t just good over evil. It’s more than that.
I love messes. It’s probably because I’m a mess. I’m a psychological mess. I live in organized chaos. And I can hate it, hate me, keep trying to change myself, or I can accept myself. Just like I’ve accepted every mess of a person that has walked into my life. And we can’t deny that we all have a little mess in us.
I have a talent for finding broken people, the messes. It’s like I have a mess magnet in my heart. And my heart loves them loves them loves them. I don’t even want to fix them, I just want them to be accepted. I crave acceptance and I try to hand it out like candy at a small town parade. I would be lying if this acceptance has not hurt me in past, but it’s still all I know how to do. I don’t want anyone to feel the hate that souls, my soul, are so capable of churning up. Hate will never make the world a better place. Who cares about disagreements? Hate will never change anyone into who you want them to be. Love might. Acceptance might. And if it doesn’t, it won’t matter, because love always wins.
It’s so funny to me that this is my philosophy on life, when I am so quick to turn it around on my own self, my own people, my background, my roots, where I came from. I get so angry at Christians because in my eyes, I still expect them to judge me. I still see the judgement toward those who have chosen a different lifestyle. I still hear the judgement in their voices when political disagreements become apparent. But aren’t we supposed to be Christlike? Aren’t we supposed to be loving, just like the God that we say we follow, that we say created us to love?
I want to accept. While I expect to be unaccepted. In every walk. When people get excited that I decide to show up somewhere my mind is blown. I don’t expect it. It almost makes me want to leave. Because I’m a psychological mess that loves psychological messes. As soon as I hear your brokenness, your struggle, your story, I’m likely to fall into your soul. I’m likely to want you by my side, in my heart, near me, with me.
And I know it’s time that I take a step back.
Today I took a step in a different direction. I forgot my notebook when I went to church, so I couldn’t write, which is my protection, I think. Yes, it is my identity, but I’m vulnerable without it.
When the music started playing, it suddenly occurred to me to join my friends on the floor, rather than staying in my seat. I haven’t been that person in years. Because of my fear. I’m constantly expecting to be watched. Because I don’t dance. I don’t jump around. And when I lose myself, I’m more likely to be still than I am to be some spiritual craziness. I’m more likely to be like Mary, lost at Christ’s feet, than I am to be like David, who danced before the Lord. I always expect judgement in that. But it is my reality. Stop judging me for my reality. Or maybe you’re not. Or maybe I don’t care anymore.
