Closer to Fine?

What a God! His road stretches straight and smooth. Every God-direction is road-tested.

Everyone who runs toward Him makes it. Is there any god like God? Psalm 18:30-31 - The Message

Dear Barbie,

Oh, our wide-eyed and perpetually smiling plastic figure of impossible proportions

on which we place our projections...

It was both nostalgic and strange and very pink,

to see you come to life in The Barbie movie.

You are indeed a conversation piece, Stereotypical Barbie!

You probably know by now that it's actually a stereotypically human thing

to go searching for truth, for fulfillment outside of us.

Some of us will spend our lives convinced that we are moving toward "fine,"

just like the song you sang on your road trip in your pink Corvette,

eager to see beyond Barbieland.

The song, "Closer to Fine" by the Indigo Girls, is a catchy one:

"I went to the doctor, I went to the mountain;

I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains.

There's more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line.

And the less I seek my source for some definitive,

Closer I am to fine, yeah -

Closer I am to fine."

Except that "fine" is a word that doesn't necessarily mean "OK" or "good."

"Fine" is rarely tolerated in the therapeutic setting as a response to, "How are you?"

More often, it's a decoy for honest feeling.

"Fine" is rarely trusted in caring conversations beginning with, "How are you?"

More likely, it's a cue for the listener to probe further to get to the "heart of the matter."

The heart of the individual.

The song you sang? Fine: maybe it's right after all.

The less we search for meaning, the closer we are to "fine-" as in "fear," or perhaps "fake."

Which leaves us all driving in circles without a destination.

It started with your question that silenced the glittering dance party:

"Do you guys ever think about dying?"

As the man-made icon and idol your doll is, your existential question is unexpected.

But apparently you are (we are) feeling a lack of feeling, and you're (we're) tired of it.

Tired of predictable pink-everything, of pretenses, of pretend.

You're seeing that plastic looks perfectly "fine" until you try to experience it and get...no feeling.

Plastic food that looks perfect but has no taste.

Plastic furniture that looks perfect but has no comfort.

Plastic beach that looks perfect but has no feel of sand or water.

Sure, Ken can't get hurt on a plastic beach -

but he sure can't feel the goodness of soft sand,

he can't taste the spray of salt water,

and he can't feel himself move on those waves.

And the big question we have projected upon you to ask is,

"What is Real? Sure? True?"

Or maybe, "What are we doing here? What's beyond this? What's deeper inside of us?"

Here we are, preferring to do instead of be.

Here we are, seeking something beyond this moment.

Here we are, knowing that something deep inside us speaks, if and when we listen.

Deeply, we know:

Real is tender and vulnerable.

Real is able to be hurt and to be bruised.

Real is capable of affecting every feeling and emotion.

What is Sure?

Sure, we sometimes we need to change our position to help change our perspective,

or to help us see differently.

What is True?

True, we are often moved to do differently and to be different,

but maybe what's also true is that constantly being on the move is the opposite of being present.

We humans know these truths, but we keep renaming our maps and repeating the motions:

Ever-moving back to the past is a place called Depression-land.

Ever-reaching for the future lands us in Anxiety-ville.

Stopping in the place of the Present Moment? It feels far away sometimes, and it's far less familiar.

And sure, others hop along as either companions or distractions or both. (We see you, Ken) -

but eventually we find out:

this journey is personal.

Because nobody sees, feels or experiences exactly as we do.

How could they?

We are made uniquely on purpose. For purpose.

Yet everybody is searching for what that purpose is before we die, right, Barbie?

And everybody seems to be looking for something more than what is.

Even when it "looks" like someone "has it all." (You might relate, Barbie?)

What is real? What IS?

Remember, Barbie, when you looked into the eyes of the wise woman sitting at the bus stop,

sitting still, just being -

and you saw her beauty?

You told her so, and she said:

"I know!"

Because she believes it. And she feels it inside.

The beauty of goodness and Godness,

born from both great pain and gratitude,

grown in both bewilderment and wonder,

fleshed out in both angst and awe,

simmered in solitude and silence.

Those wrinkles are wisdom.

That smile is a deep knowing.

Those sparkles in her eyes are the glow of the spirit.

In The Spirituality of Imperfection, Henri Nouwen keeps it real.

He says that reality is tension (struggle) and mystery (unknown).

And that these are the truest and realest parts of life.

Reality is imperfection.

Real is imperfect.

Real is imperfect is beautiful.

Life, love and experience are perfectly imperfect.

No pretense, no facade, no plastic:

just real, raw and (sometimes) really uncomfortable.

And really beautiful.

And Ken is learning alongside you that it's challenging to feel K-enough.

As Ken experiments with money, titles, power, aggression, striving,

getting "the look," and jockeying for first place,

all he really wants is to be loved for who he is. Just Ken. (Cue the song.)

But the questions have to be asked.

Is the dreamhouse truly a dreamhouse?

What is real vs. plastic?

What is true vs. false?

What is lasting vs. temporary?

And how do we know?

We need to step out of the pink Corvette for this one.

This requires a journey not outside of us, but a deep one within us.

Because the Truth (the source of our definitive, who we definitely are)

resides on the inside.

Oh Barbie, plastic toy of our yesteryear...

you can help us see our plastic ways on the big screen.

But ultimately, why are you (and we) returning to the superficial question:

Am I pretty?

It's the confidence of the woman at the bus-stop that gives us pause.

Her "I know!" means:

I am here. Here is beauty. In me. In this moment.

To be beautiful means to be yourself.

This suggests that the more we are becoming the unique person God is calling us to be,

the more beautiful we are. - Rosemary Dowd, RSCJ

So it's fine.

As your Hollywood post-Barbie crew poses in red-carpet walks and glamour,

and sales skyrocket of the plethora of pink Barbie merchandise,

at least there was a moment of pondering:

perfection may not be so perfect.

But you're right, Barbie. They can't sell what we won't buy.

And we still buy a particular definition of perfection.

You can jump out of your box and run, make-up intact and glossy hair swinging,

but others are boxed in by systems, oppression, suppression.

Maybe other Barbies say,

"Since we can't be Stereotypical Barbie, we may as well just be ourselves."

Many humans may be just as resigned in their own skin.

It's the toxic nature of chronic comparison addressed in the movie,

but yet subtly (or overtly) reinforced, depending on how we view the movie and ourselves.

Am I pretty? You ask. We ask.

Is that code for, "Am I loved? Accepted? Valued - just as I am?"

And is it in all contexts, not just in our pre-labeled "boxes?"

Any road-trip outside of us and into comparison may leave us more confused.

Any journey to perfection outside of us may find us more perplexed,

removed from knowing the Perfection inside of us.

We have within us the image and likeness of God; the source of All Beauty.

-Ronald Rolheiser, OMI

Barbie, we have to ask ourselves:

What would it be like, not to "resign" to "the way we are" but to:

Remain in this moment, in this body?

Embodiment (dwelling and feeling in the body) requires introspection (dwelling and feeling in the soul).

Remind ourselves of the Love loving us now, just as we are?

Right here, right now. (Breathe.)

Reveal to ourselves the truth of now?

My true spiritual work is to let myself be loved,

fully and completely,

and to trust that in that love, I will come to the fulfillment of my vocation (calling). - Henri Nouwen

We don't have to resign.

Maybe it's a blessing that you stopped by, Barbie.

We can forgo "fine" and pause at "blessed."

Blessed.

Blessed is Loved. Secure. Comforted. Resilient.

Blessed is past, present and future-tensed.

Blessed means,

I've seen where Love has shown up in my life in the past.

Blessed means,

I'm loved and I'm in the midst of a mess right now.

Blessed means,

I'm loved and Love will get me through this.

Because even though this doesn't feel so good right now, I'm loved by SomeOne So Good.

But it's hard to sit still. When do we finally "get there?"

When do we "fine-ally"arrive at a fulfilled Life? Recovery? Sobriety? Resilience? Stability?

Forget fine.

Philip Sheldrake (in The Spirituality of Imperfection) warns:

The moment we feel that we have arrived, are complete, we are the furthest from God. Holiness has a great deal to do with a realization and acceptance of imperfection and even failure, and of need for continual conversion. Holiness is a process, a continual movement toward God."

Movement with tension and struggle.

Movement into mystery and Mystery.

Movement into stillness and solitude.

And when we bless the imperfection, right now in this present moment?

We can be blessed by it and through it.

It's true, Barbie.

Nothing could be truer. Bless you.

(Song above created from the book of Numbers to remind the Israelites of God's presence and protection for them: past, present and future. What Blessing.)