#380: SPOTLIGHT: Matt Wallaert
Question for Matt:
The Serenity Prayer offers: “Grant me the serenity to accept what I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference…”. With this thought, does something come to mind that you could have changed but felt (or currently feel) you are lacking the courage to change ?
Matt's Response:
I have a complicated relationship with the Serenity Prayer. I always felt more like The Hulk in the first Avengers movie: the secret to his power is that he’s always angry. The turbulent soul drives change because its serenity is disturbed by the flaws in the shape of the universe. Only when things are put right for all can there finally be true rest.
And therein lies my cowardice. It is likely true that I could be more at peace and probably still be effective. When I was a young kid at camp, a counselor once told me that moving people is like pulling a rock with a rubber band: too much tension and the rock will snap you back, too little and you won’t be able to move forward, just right and you can scoot it along.
But I often lack the courage to try. When I've been angry (or serene or sad or whatever your default approach to the world) for a long time, it can take a lot to break myself out of that particular groove. You hear grizzled musicians speak that way sometimes, about needing to be drunk to perform because they can’t fathom the idea of performing sober.
If I was truly courageous, I’d take the risk and let my edge be blunted. I’d change myself.
HULK SMASH!
Amanda’s thought…
I suspect Matt would love all direct responses from you. I find it incredibly encouraging when I hear from any of you after I share my thoughts. It is powerful for me. I assume many others have a similar experience. So here is Matt's email… pip
Matt, your writing here inspires me to pinpoint, or dare I say 'hulk-smash,' the parts of myself that make me feel stuck. If I had to think more about what my "default approach" is, it would likely be what I call clinging. I tend to have a hard time letting things go and ruminate. Which makes me think of an idea Pip's dear wife Kelly shared with me. She said that rather than holding tight onto an experience in the fist of your hand, I can hold it out away from my body with an open palm. In doing so, I am still acknowledging the experience and feelings that come with it, but I'm not gripping it hard or holding it close to me. And in doing so, it can gently trickle out between my fingers. I love that analogy. And Matt, I love the one your camp counselor shared with you. Thank you for your honesty and willingness to share.
- AP
