Living authentically a challenge worth embracing

Every now and again, for reasons and motives I neither understand nor can ever anticipate, I look up and notice the landscape of my life, and I notice that there are new truths sitting on the shelf of my cupboard where I keep "Evidence That I Might Finally Be Growing Up."

I have about the same combination of good and bad in me regardless of whether I make strenuous, conscious efforts to be good or to not be bad. This one really set me free. There's something of a dog chasing its tail in the admonitions "be good" or "don't be bad." These days I prefer "be human ... be thyself ... be authentic."

This is not an argument for moral license. Rather, it is the freedom to begin from a place of mercy and acceptance rather than judgment. It is a commitment to self-regard. I am finally willing to offer myself the regard that, in the past, I have so reflexively offered to others.

Nor am I saying there is no place for moral effort. Indeed, some days you just have to decide to do the right thing, and hope that character and motives will catch up along the way. What I have abandoned, however, is the relentless, self-conscious monitoring of piety. I'm as good as I am. And as not-good. I welcome other evolutions of my character, but I no longer fret about it. I have a good-enough goodness.

I have stopped being surprised that some people will never like me. Oh boy, this one represents an embarrassingly long journey. It pains me to think about the countless hours and days I have wasted gaping in paralyzed incredulity in response to someone's inexplicable antipathy. My cathedral-sized ego would get a bulldog grip and never let go of the idea that, any minute now, this person was going to see he/she had made a terrible mistake and that Steven is a Really Nice Guy.

Today I can be more objective about both criticism and praise. I trust myself to know the difference between celebration of me and wide-eyed groupie gaga, valuable feedback and hostile projections. I have a thriving inner circle of people who can, will, and do tell me unlovely truths about me when necessary.

And some people really don't like me. And never will. All righty then.

Virtually nothing worth having requires hurrying up; yet, there isn't a moment to waste. I think this paradox is simply delicious. It demands a fine line balance between serenity and urgency, between a "hands off" approach to the universe coupled with a willingness to throw myself headlong into the here and now.

I love roses. But only a fool would get so excited about a rosebud that he would tear it open as a strategy for enjoying the bloom. A wise man waits ... and waits. Then, when the rose blooms, he is radically present to the wonder and the beauty.

Relationships are like this. There is, in the end, no such thing as instant intimacy. Love, trust, respect -- these things take time. Yet, also, only here and now can we truly love. It's not true that there will always be time to say, "I love you ... I choose you." Some choices present themselves only once.

The more practiced you become at living authentically, the more often you'll have to make friends with Alone. For me, there's hardly a gnat's whisker of difference between the psychological idea of healthy individuation and the Christian idea of salvation. Both include the lifetime journey of authentic living. So let me borrow a parable from the Gospel: "Foxes have dens, birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head."

If you take seriously a commitment to authentic selfhood, you find that you regularly must sacrifice belonging. Living authentically includes regular renegotiations of how we belong to family. In some extreme cases, whether we will belong to family at all. Likewise, adjustments in friendships, and sometimes distancing and even discarding friendships.

There are journeys of selfhood and wholeness that must be walked alone.

"Intimacy is difficult to achieve; and, once achieved, even harder to tolerate." The quote is by David Schnarch, Ph.D., author of "Passionate Marriage." The minute I heard it, it simply nailed my shoes to the floor. It's breathtaking. You'll never see it in a Hallmark card. It just happens to be true.

And it's why so few people choose great love.

I have an "open cupboard" policy. Feel free to drop by anytime and borrow what you like from my cupboard.

What's in your cupboard?

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling Wellness Center in Las Vegas and the author of "Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing" (Stephens Press).