“dearly beloved, we are gathered here together…”


Is it a wedding or a funeral we have gathered here for? Are we joining together or coming apart? It this about goals, or letting go? I’m confused.

Hello, I am the front person. I do not have a name. My job is to keep it together. My inner guide, you know, the one I call Bob, several weeks ago said it was time for me to surrender and let my therapist direct the show. Would that be irresponsible? Or would it lead to a better organization, after some necessary mess?

I, the front person, am the one who pretends to be a real person. I write blogs, I talk to people, I hog the therapy sessions, rarely letting the others have a say. That was my job in the world, as I understood it. But in therapy, this is getting in the way. My job was to make sure we never got to the real feelings. My job was to function. Feeling and functioning seemed to be mutually exclusive possibilities.

This morning a friend sent me an article about grieving. The main point was it takes as long as it takes. I keep wanting it to be over, so we can function. We have never functioned very well. That’s not my fault, you know I’ve tried. My team is a rag tag bunch, with a lot of conflicting interests and opposing values. I have no idea how to bring the country together. I can’t even bring my self together. I identify with the whole assembly, not the liberals or the conservatives, not the oppressed or the oppressors, but all of it. How can I take sides? It’s all me.

The spiritual books say the self is eternal and whole, can’t be split or damaged, all you have to do is recognize it. Maybe so, maybe so. I can’t do anything about that, god knows I’ve tried. The psychological books say the self can be split and damaged. That’s more my experience. But either way, finding the self, or healing the self — I don’t know how.

I saw a message on the back of a stop sign in my neighborhood. If I, the front person, am the enemy of healing, then I’m willing to surrender. You know, I’m really very tired anyway. I’ve done my best, maybe gone as far as I can go. Can I really stop? Who would take over? Is that my problem?

I don’t think so. I’ve tried to handle the problems as best I could. But new ones keep popping up. I did manage to keep it more or less together during my tenure, but I’m tired. Maybe there’s someone else in the assembly, someone younger, more fit for leadership. Maybe we’ll let the therapist be the interim director until a new leader is found. Maybe there needs to be some disassembly first, and then reorganization. I’m too tired. I don’t know how it should go. Maybe I’ll just lie down right here right now and rest.

Someone should pat me on the back. Not every organizational leader recognizes when it’s time to step down…

No parties, please, and no cake for crying out loud. Stop all that singing! Don’t be sad! I’m not a real person, just a front. They call me the functioneer. This is not a funeral, well not exactly, more like retirement. Just say “nice try, good effort, good luck, good-bye.”

Dearly Beloved