Hard Ass, Soft Heart

These are my favorite kind of people. I actually have a lot of favorite kinds of people, but the hard ass, soft hearts are like magnets to me. They are the people I want to learn from, I want to emulate. They inspire me, take me off guard, make me laugh, and encourage me to keep growing, to keep risking, to be more of myself. I feel softer and more convicted in their presence. I'm always on the look out to meet or study a new one.

Maybe strong gut (God spot), soft heart is a more accurate description, but hard ass sounds better. What I mean by hard ass/strong gut is this - no bullshit, clear seeing, truth teller without demeaning, vilifying or belittling, integrity, funny, strong intuition, street smarts, life experience, eye to eye, team player, uses their voice, claims their gifts with humility, acknowledges and works to release the gifts of others, grounded, open minded, patient but doesn't waste time, confident, lives out of a strong foundation, doesn't grasp/open hands, committed, sense of purpose, admits when they're wrong (and sometimes they are wrong - but that doesn't stop them), not afraid of conflict, don't tear people down, empowers people, not bitter, do not have to be extroverted, can be soft spoken, usually they are religious or spiritually minded folks (this last part is just a personal predilection, not a requirement), not necessarily Christian.

Before anyone thinks I'm deifying all the HASHes, I think they get just as worn out, tired, and bewildered as the rest of us. I don't think they've come by their hard ass or soft heart easily or without effort, I think it takes discipline, nurturing, and levity. They need our encouragement and love too. HASHes are not super human.

I remember going to the annual MLK day rally at Garfield or Franklin one year and Lt. Watada showed up to speak. The gym went ape shit! Instant standing ovation, clapping, cheering, a lot of long, loud love and respect. And I remember thinking he could probably really use this, I hope this outpouring is the fuel he needs for the coming weeks and months and I hope the crowds keep gathering.

Now that I'm typing this I think Jesus was a hard ass, soft heart. He scares me quite a bit actually and he makes me laugh. Does anyone else get the impression that he was/is frustrated with us a lot of the time? He didn't seem afraid to show it either - "What [exactly] did you go out into the desert to see?" (Luke 7:24). He also got tired - But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed (Luke 5:16).

Before I get too far, what about the soft heart? It seems pretty self explanatory, but I think I'll write about what it does not mean to me - door mat, do gooder, passive, enabler, worry wart, "I need to do this all on my own" or "I'm the only one who really cares about this issue or 'these people'", "they" just can't help themselves, etc.

I'm in awe of the people who have sustained their soft heart, their compassion, their passion, their empathy, and their efficacy over years and decades in environments and often times heartbreaking, seemingly hopeless situations that often breed burn out.

How do they do it?

"I HAVE A LOVE IN MY LIFE. IT MAKES ME STRONGER THAN ANYTHING YOU CAN IMAGINE." - Barry (Adam Sandler's character in Punch Drunk Love)

I just started back at the jail on Friday. I've been volunteering as a Shanti volunteer, providing non-professional (non-religious) emotional support through active listening and no advice giving, at the local jail since Spring 2008. Back in the fall we were informed we could no longer meet with inmates in our then current location. So the volunteer coordinator has been working behind the scenes to whip up a new protocol. I have a new badge now and am able to roam pretty freely around the jail meeting inmates where they are instead of having c.o.'s escort them to us in a fixed location. It went pretty well. I saw 7 people. I want to tell you about the tail end of my last conversation of the evening. I don't know if I'll blog much about the jail because of confidentiality. It's better if I just don't talk about it most of the time outside of my Shanti small group.

Inmate: "I gotta give it to you, you coming in here and meeting alone with people and not being afraid. People in here have done some really scary shit. Hell, I've done some scary shit, and even I'm afraid of them. And you're not afraid?"

Me: "No."

Inmate: "What are you - a Christian?"

Me: "Yes."

Inmate (said with a little disdain and mockery): "O, so you're protected by GOD? JESUS got your back?"

Me: "Nope, that's not it. I think shitty things can happen to anyone Christian or not. (Pause) I've been coming here for awhile now, Shanti's been at the jail for 10 years, and people really appreciate it. Almost every single person I meet with says "thank you" - multiple times, says "I really appreciate you coming." I don't have an agenda. I'm not a lawyer or a social worker. I can't do anything for you, but I listen. People respect that, they value that, they don't want to jeopardize it. So, if anyone fucks with me, the program is done and that's what makes me feel safe. That may be naive, but that's it."

I think it was the "right" answer so to speak.

I'm proud to say I felt really centered. One of those moments where I felt like I had a Love in my life making me so calm, so centered, so clear, so much stronger than I could ever imagine. And in that way I did feel a form of protection through God's presence within me and encompassing me, sitting across the table from me in a person asking for the truth and not some platitude. Thankful that the words came without effort. Some of the conversations are a struggle, but this wasn't.

I get in a zone when I'm there and I get overly comfortable. Made the major faux-pas of introducing myself to an inmate by first and last name. Hello, sister. Get with the damn program - you may have a Big Love, but you're not visiting a kindergarten classroom. I also generously passed on the first and last name of the social worker who referred the person I was meeting the first time. Or so I feared. Turned out I gave the wrong last name, giving instead the name of a baseball player. Praise God.

Lest you think I walk around feeling like a bad ass for more than those 2 minutes outlined above, let me also share that I have insomnia almost every night that I volunteer at the jail, sometimes for a few days afterwards. My head and my heart is very full when I leave, my adrenaline is sky high. The jail scares the shit out of me, and my time there exposes me to a close up view of some really scary shit about our society, and I'm not just talking about the crimes. I just don't tend to feel all this anxiety until I get home and I'm trying to sleep thinking about how vulnerable we all are, how much I don't want to experience the violence and injustice that I hear about and witness, how I'm not sure how to participate in working for justice. It's not all anxiety or I wouldn't have stuck with it. Just want to be honest.

Part of shedding the shell, sustaining my volunteer life at the jail, and surrendering to the life I desire means admitting I'm afraid, offering it up, being intentional about tapping into that Love, tuning into my gut, taking responsibility to really take care of myself, having fun, repeating the mantra that "serious does not equal mature," and surrendering to the fact that God doesn't promise no suffering, but surrendering does set us free to follow our individual callings, to be Grateful, to work for justice without being crippled by fear and to celebrate all the beauty and tenderness that is most certainly a reality as well. As I'm typing I'm thinking that takes vigilance and discipline. No one stop shopping in the surrender to no fear department. I've got some work to do.

When I was at Mercy Center this summer I realized that I felt a lot softer inside when I was worshipping and praying and singing on a regular basis. I needed church today. I needed worship. I needed prayers. I needed singing. I could say I always need it, but today I felt that need, that joy and longing, and I was filled up. Thank you, Liberation. Mmm, that sermon.

I'm on the look out for a hard ass/soft heart prison chaplain mentor. Just putting it out there, Universe. In case you want to send someone my way.

I've thought of several people that I've admired and thought of as hard ass/soft hearted people while writing. Here's a handful that come to mind. Thankfully there are many more out there. Who comes to your mind?

Dr. Paul Farmer - I would NOT want to be married to this man, but he is so damn inspiring, smart, tireless, and funny.

Bishop Vashti McKenzie - I've only heard of her fairly recently, but listen to this little clip about the woman at the well. And if you've really got some time on your hands listen to the sermon on the Speaking of Faith website - Don't Let Your Wounds Get in the Way. Watch out!

Glenda Hope - I could devote a whole post to this woman. I'm blessed to call her my friend and spent a full 24 hours alone with her this past summer sharing meals and conversation.

Michael Franti - seemingly fearless lover of life and people. Check out this YouTube clip. Instant church for me (Til I let go of a broken heart / I let go to an open heart / I let go of my broken dreams / I let go to the mystery / And I believe in the miracles / I believe in the spiritual / I believe in the one above / I believe in the one I love) and good memories of being with Sara, Leo, and Rebecca listening to this live and jumping up and down like pogo sticks for half the night.

and tenderly,

Jan Gleason - Environmental Works, Executive Director Emeritus. She passed this Wednesday at the age of 61. An amazing, well loved, highly respected architect (64th! registered female architect in Washington State), friend, cellist, partner, soccer player, and a bulldog for her staff and clients. A social worker in three dimensions by her definition. I'm lucky to have worked with her at the helm for several months at the end of her time at EW. See the EW link at the right for more information about her life and career.

Sometimes when I have insomnia I say this prayer out loud to myself and sometimes when I'm in my right mind and don't have insomnia I say it too.

Lord it is night.

This night is for stillness.

Let us be still in the presence of God.

It is night after a long day.

What has been done has been done;

what has not been done has not been done.

Let it be.

The night is dark.

Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives rest in you.

The night is quiet.

Let the quietness of your peace enfold us,

all dear to us,

and all who have no peace.

The night heralds the dawn.

Let us look expectantly to a new day, new joys, new possibilities.

In your name we pray.

Amen

(From the New Zealand Prayer Book)

Good night, sweet dreams.

Love, Em