Been There Done That

As I begin this entry it is the Saturday before Forgiveness Sunday.  In other words, Lent starts in full on Monday.  So what?  We have had Lent in years before, and here we go again.  Why isn’t this just another instance of “been there, done that?”  It could be just such an experience.  In fact, it might be worth counting the number of things in the day-to-day routine that fall under the label “been there done that.”  Wake up, fall out of bead, shower, dress, eat, drink coffee, read, pray, drive to work, work (and its many routines), and so on.  Come to think of it, it might be easier to ask what is NOT subject to “been there done that.”

So many things pass quickly by, make impact—ever so slightly—and disappear escaping notice.  Just like “been there done that.”  Not merely dismissive, the phrase pulls down a dark mood, and with it a dry humor that makes palatable that dark hue.  The darkness of it says, in effect, “that bores me, give me something more diverting.”  The dry humor attenuates, even as it derives the humor from, the absurdity of such self-centeredness.  And still it advances the idea, “come on, now, give me something I want!” One little phrase, is it a big deal?

In the grand scheme, no, not a big deal, if only a passing feeling.  But it’s the sarcasm that bites and threatens to persist.  But a proper response must be approached from the other side…from the place of value.

My daughter, the gymnast, after achieving 36.025 All-Around score (a personal best at her level) posted a quote on social media:  “We don’t rise to the occasion, we sink to the level of our training.”  After some quick math, the hours of training that she and her teammates put in is somewhere on the order of 850 hours a year, for about 6 competitions (probably fewer).  With 4 events, each lasting no longer than 3 minutes, that’s a total of 72 minutes of competition time.  So the ratio of preparation to competition is close to 700:1.

Ask my daughter why she does it, and if she’s in a mood to be open, you would be amazed at the richness of her experiences, the very motivators for her love of the sport.  In that ratio it’s the 700 hours that she loves, not the 1.  And of that 700 another gymnast who hasn’t yet had my daughter’s experiences could dismissively say, “been there, done that.”  Did you catch the hubris?  The contempt?

Of course the analogy breaks down; gymnastics is not for everyone.  But what is available to my daughter through gymnastics is.  And to reach it one must make use of concrete, day-to-day activities and things.  In the abstract, however, we can describe what fosters such love, such engagement: the cycle of preparation and performance.  I am deliberate about the word; it’s not “achievement” but “performance.”  700 hours of preparation to 1 hour of performance.  The quality of the performance should be indexed to the performer (with obvious exception in settings either of competition or of performance standards).  With most things distinguishing the preparation from the performance can be difficult.  And so we have competitions and recitals to give structure and clarity, separating preparation from performance to foster craft.

Now let’s return to Lent.  My relationship to God also includes the cycle of preparation and performance.  For example, do I treat my colleagues with dignity?  And how do I distinguish whether this or that interaction is performance or preparation?  The pattern is the same as sports and art.  And most of the interactions are day-to-day, mundane stuff, with which I can become too familiar:  “been there done that.”  So where is my training ground?  Must all my interactions seem like repeat performance with no time to practice, to introduce new skills?  Enter Lent.

The 40 days leading to Pascha are all about retraining, even correcting, habits.  And tools of Lent have not changed: fasting, prayer, almsgiving.  Compare this to athletics, whose practices—conditioning, strengthening, diet—have likewise not changed (sure, technology enhances the specifics, but adds no new essential) Anything done well and sustained, rests on strong fundamentals.  This is Lent, a limited forum for strengthening fundamentals through fasting, prayer, and almsgiving.

If these fundamentals are sound, and engaged honestly and humbly, the quality of our relationship to God, to ourselves, and to others can grow richer, more full of life.  But as this is different for each person it can hardly be generalized here.  As with the inexperienced gymnast dismissive of conditioning, so with one who, lacking experience based on strong fundamentals of virtue, sees no point to Lent.

But let’s come back down to earth, from that lofty talk about virtue and relationship with God.  Lent is also a humble thing, able to be appreciated in simple day-to-day things.  From my own experience, the amount of joy I feel in celebrating Pascha directly correlates to the amount of effort put into Lent.  In my first Lent I really tried to avoid meat, dairy, and junk food; I really tried reducing total food intake; I really tried to be regular about daily prayer and Bible reading; I really tried to attend all the services. That first Pascha was among the most joyful I remember in 2 decades; Doritos never brought so much happiness as then!  The quality of my festal joy sunk to the level of my preparation.

This year, therefore, I’m making a small change.  On the threshold of Lent I say, “Been there, done that; let’s to do it again!”