A Crossroad

"What other people think about you is none of your business."

AA is full of pearls of wisdom.  This is one of them.  Except I don't always agree.  What other people think about you, about me, can have a significant impact on the direction of one's life.  Opportunities are sometimes contingent on other's opinions of one's capabilities and character.  There is no getting around that.

I'm at a crossroad in my life.  I'm faced with three choices that will determine the direction of my life.  But each of those three choices will only be an option based on the assessment of other people.  I am not in charge of my own destiny.

"Lets consider three options: First, that you win the appeal for disability benefits and qualify for continuation of coverage;  second, that its determined that you can return to pastoral ministry and have that opportunity;  and third, that this business opportunity (selling 15 dining sets to clients in Vietnam, as written about in my last blog) comes through.  Which would you choose?"  (My psychologist asked me this, yesterday.)

Its not an easy choice.  If I win the appeal for disability benefits, it will be because it is determined that I am simply not capable of continuing to do what at one point was second nature to me.  "I...just....can't.....do.......it...........anymore." are words that are hard to say.  I reflect on those days when I couldn't even find the motivation to shower, when depression would chain me to the couch, or when mania would drive me forward on numerous different schemes and plans.  My psychologist had me read the letter that documented his conversation with the doctor hired by the disability plan to evaluate my claim.  "Disheveled", really?  The overall assessment was convincing to me, and a bit depressing.  But a bit of the fighter in me came out.  "I can do anything I set me mind too, I'm in a much better place than I was, you're not giving me enough credit, I have 'no cognitive nor physical impairment'.  "I disagree." was his response, particularly with respect to how depression affects my cognitive functioning.  Ouch!

And then we talked about the business opportunity.  15 dining sets, at a price of $55,000 per set.  $825,000 gross.  But major challenges such as expanding my business to include numerous employees, getting the financial backing, figuring out how to safely ship hardwood furniture from the relatively dry inland Northwest, to the high humidity of Vietnam without the whole works self destructing because of the humidity change.  Etc., Etc,.  "I'm very concerned that accepting this job would result in a manic episode."  "Actually, I'd be more capable of pulling it off if I was in a manic state!"  Interesting conversation.

I shared with him the possibility of serving as an interim pastor in a small congregation.  He was much more comfortable with that, than my embarking on a bold new business adventure.  His biggest concern about my re-entering parish ministry has to do with potentially high stress situations.  Caring for a relatively small congregation, without the possibility of taking on challenges like building senior housing, etc., he thought was "safe", and far preferable to the risk of falling into an 'ill advised business endeavor'.  Especially if I continue in treatment and am monitored with respect to my moods.

Sometimes we control our own destiny.  Most of the time we do not.

The appeal of the disability claim will be settled by someone else.  Perhaps even the judicial system.

Whether I can move forward with the business opportunity depends on numerous decisions by other people, not the least of which are the clients, but also others like bankers, landlords, employees, . . . not to mention my wife and family.  Huge risks involved.

My bishop, an independent psychologist's evaluation, and a congregation's call.  Decisions will have to be made with respect to my returning to parish ministry, and most of them will be made by others.

And then there is the opportunity that none of these materialize.   That somewhere there is a fourth option.  Or maybe, my current status IS the fourth option.

The single greatest casualty of this disease is my own ability to discern and decide.  While I may or may not be disabled, I have certainly become more dependent on others.  Ironically, the recognition of these limitations and being willing to defer to the judgement of others may in fact be the single most significant indication that some degree of health and well being has returned.