Man or Machine?

I’m reading The Lies We Believe by Chris Thurman.  I’m not actually very far into it, but already I came across a thought provoking question.  Are you a man or are you a machine?

Machines can be clean, precise, and perfect.  In fact, if you have a machine, you would expect those things of it.  Why would you pay for a machine that only sometimes does what you need it to do?  They are mechanical, and as such, there is no room for error if they are working properly.  They are simple.

Men and women, on the other hand, are messy, complicated, and imperfect.  We don’t always do what we are supposed to do, and we don’t often know what it is that we are supposed to do.  Our lives are contradictory.  We sometimes act against our own best interests.  And Lord know we make mistakes.

I have this stereotype in my head of a woman about my age.  She has a couple of kids, and her house is always clean.  I assume her kids always do what they are supposed to do because she is never stressed out.  She probably showers first thing in the morning, and she has always lived in accordance with her goals and values.  She is the picture of moderation.  She has no regrets because she never loses her temper or her way.

I try so hard to be that woman.

But I can’t.  Because people are messy; I am a person, and therefore, I am messy.

It’s so simple and yet it is so incredibly complicated.  How many of us really accept ourselves for the people that we are.

I don’t know about you, but I dread mistakes because they take away my peace of mind.  Once a mistake is made, it’s sort of filed away in my memory and it is retrieved all too easily.

I lose that peace because I am expecting the impossible of myself.  I am expecting myself to be a machine.

I wonder how we would feel different if we really embraced our mistakes and our faults.  I’m going even a step further than merely accepting them (which is hard enough as it is) but if we wrapped a metaphorical blanket around our hearts when we make a mistake and allow ourselves to be comforted by it.  If we embrace our faults as we do our strengths because, in the end, our faults can end up being our greatest teachers.  What if we saw a mistake or an imperfection and we loved it as being a part of ourselves and we loved it for the potential it has to bring insight into our lives?  Perhaps we vow to never to do it again, but still we hold it dear as a part of who we are and what brought us to this point in our lives.

And so in the spirit of embracing the messy part of me, I thought I would share with you a few things that make me a real, live human being rather than a machine.

• I’m pretty snobby when it comes to books.  I ordinarily won’t read anything that is too popular, and I don’t read any books that seem like self help books even though I’m happy to read them if I can convince myself that they are either psychology, memoir, or theology.  It’s a fine line.
• I have been known to spend hours watching such high brow television as The Bad Girls’ Club, and while it was still on the air, I was completely addicted to All My Children.  I talk as passionately about AMC as most people do about their children or their spouses.
• I love water.  I love swimming, bathing, and showering.  I could spend the majority of my day partaking in those activities.  When I am happy, sad, depressed, anxious, excited, or just bored, I hop in the shower.
• I hate the feeling when you get out of water, whether it be clean or chlorinated.  It’s a pain in the ass.
• My eating habits have multiple personality disorder.  Either I am living on kale chips and and steamed veggies or I’m eating fast food.  There’s very little in between.
• I would probably give my kidney to your brother’s best friend’s wife.  I’m very loyal.  And I’m also insecure.  I will constantly doubt your affection.
• I sometimes let my girls play in their room too long in the morning or after naptime, so I don’t have to jump out of bed immediately.  And I’ll think of any excuse in the world to have them play or read books in my bed, so I can get a moment of shut eye.  (Well, until the Goose started being too mobile; it’s no longer safe to do that now.)
• My girls know without a shadow of a doubt that I love them.  I tell them at least a dozen times a day.  I give them hugs like they are going out of style.  I give them kisses and snuggle with them, and tell them there is nothing in the world they could ever do to lose my love.  As much as I doubt myself, I am a very good mother.

I’m going to end this there.  I could go on forever because the point of it is that we are messy people.  And perhaps that’s what makes us beautiful because that’s what makes us real.

If God had wanted a clean, perfect world inhabited by perfect people, perhaps he would have created that in the first place.

And since it’s Thursday and almost the weekend, I would like to end this on a happy note with my favorite new song by my favorite American Idol, Phillip Phillips.

Talk about a random, unrelated ending!  If any of my students are reading this, this is NOT the way to conclude a piece of writing.  But I can do it because I’m the teacher.  And I have a Masters degree.  And because I said so.  Now stop reading my blog and go do your homework.