What to say to my friend about why I’m on edge about his emphasis on vulnerability? Basically, I think he worships at its altar. Not everybody has problems all the time. My friend is like a problem-seeker: Dig up a problem in a person, get them to talk about it, apply the salve of God’s love. Right? That’s great, right? But the problem is that being vulnerable with someone leads them to have some measure of power in your life.
This Brené Brown quote seems adjacent: “Trust isn’t a grand gesture—it’s a growing marble collection.”
Professing Christianity is what Renn calls a “status-enhancer” when and only when the Christianity one professes is in step with what your society already and without reference to Christian teaching describes as “being an upstanding citizen.”
Living unanxiously mindful of your own certain death is probably salutary. Living unanxiously mindful of the certain death of those you love might be even more so.
Communication is love. If I’m involved, at least, if there’s any ambiguity at all, it must be squashed. Love demands it. However, I think one person’s ambiguity that needs to be squashed is another person’s opportunity for the exercise of commonsense intuition.
The one thing I’ll say about The Magnificent Seven (2016): I cried a little—touched and pleased—that the three heroes who remained alive at the end of the film were the black man, the Latino, and the Native American. That’s a good change.
Love itself is the prime spiritual discipline. All others, including Bible study and prayer, are good only insofar as they serve to empower, amplify, or inform love.
Pianists don’t cultivate their skill and musicianship by reading books on the history of piano music or by talking with composers, as enriching and obliquely helpful as that might be. They improve by playing piano.
Similarly, the way you get better and more consistent at loving is by trying to love.
I do confess my having daydreamed today about fronting a U2 and Britpop cover band with college friends Aaron G., Jason, Aaron R., and Adam R., with Josh A. joining for acoustic numbers.
Ironically, and with apologies to Josh, it was late U2 (“Red Flag Day”) that first inspired the daydream. Also, friend of friend Chris F. was there, too, but I wasn’t sure how to fit in so many guitarists.
Thought: For every proactive, special act of love I make toward my family (e.g., the Wynn postcard I just dropped at the concierge desk), make a proactive, special act of love toward an enemy.