When I was in seminary, I was introduced to the writings of the Dutch Catholic priest, Henri Nouwen. Nouwen was a professor of pastoral theology at the University of Notre Dame, Yale, Boston College, and Harvard and a prominent twentieth century theologian. One of my favorite books that I read over 20 years ago was his timeless classic, The Wounded Healer.
In the early 1980s, Nouwen left a teaching position at Yale to discern his own vocational call. He felt that God was inviting him to reassess his ministerial identity and he felt convicted to serve people in poverty. He moved to South America and spent six months learning Spanish and then became a priest to the least of these, in an economically impoverished area of Peru.
After this time serving the marginalized as a priest, Nouwen returned to the teaching vocation and took a job at Harvard Divinity School. It was during this time period, while on a spiritual retreat, that he first met community members from L’Arche, an international organization for adults with intellectual disabilities.
After the retreat, Nouwen ended up meeting L’Arche’s founder, Jean Vanier. Vanier became both a friend and mentor to Nouwen and this introduction reignited his inner voice that was nudging him once again to work with an alienated group.
Vanier invited Nouwen to join L’Arche in France and eventually he settled in a L’Arche group in Toronto, Canada. In his work with L’Arche, he recognized the irony that most of the intellectually and developmentally disabled residents that he lived with would never be able to attend the schools he taught at it or even read the books he had written. Nouwen felt he could no longer hide behind his intellectual achievements because his new community didn’t care about his accolades. Even the title of priest did not impress them, because at the end of the day he was not Father Nouwen to them and instead simply, Henri. But the disconnect between being an ordinary community member named Henri and the esteemed Professor Nouwen who taught at impressive universities, led Henri Nouwen on an identity quest to find his authentic self.
Nouwen realized he had lost himself by allowing his professional accomplishments and educational achievements to be a mask he wore to prove himself. Nouwen realized he didn’t actually know who he was apart from his titles and successes. In the L’Arche community, he was humbled to look inside himself and dance with his own insecurities and strengths.
I first came across Nouwen’s journey of rediscovering the truth of his true self when I was a seminary student and chaplain resident in the early 2000s. Nouwen discovered his own identity crisis was centered around five lies we whisper to ourselves about identity:
• I am what I have
• I am what I do
• I am what other people say or think about me
• I am nothing more than my worst moment
• I am nothing less than my best moment
Let’s look at these five lies:
I am what I have-This lie focuses on the belief that your worth is tied to your external accomplishments and possessions. If you value acquisition of knowledge, the accumulation of material possessions, or even how many exotic vacations you have taken, you may be finding your value in what you have.
I know I can fall into the trap of “I am what I have.” If I am not careful, it is easy for me to find my sense of self in my house, marriage, children, or recent vacations.
I am what I do- This lie suggests that your identity comes from a busy schedule, career, or accomplishments. This is a way of living that ties your value to being perfect, busy, and important.
I know I can also succumb to this lie. Throughout my life I have struggled with the unconscious desire to validate my worth through perfectionism, keeping too full of a calendar, and proving myself through professional and educational achievements.
I am what other people think of me-This lie theorizes that one’s value lies in the opinion others have of you.
I know this is perhaps the Achilles heel that shows up for me most often. Sometimes the fear that someone is mad at me or doesn’t like me can affect my waking and sleeping hours. This is because I put too much value in wanting to be seen as good, helpful, kind, successful, or even special. I also think it is critical to remember that if someone doesn’t like you, this is often rooted in their own self-hatred and it most likely not a complete reflection of you. Ultimately, my own self-love practices, knowing I am accepted by God, and remembering the circle of people who do love me help me combat the lie, “I am what people think of me.”
I am nothing more than my worst moment-We have all have had moments we regret. Maybe you can think back to a moment that ruined a relationship or your future. When this happens, it’s easy to buy into the idea that the entirety of who you are is nothing more than your worst moment. But who you are is much more than any one moment in time. Like an onion, there are so many layers to who you are. You are much more than any of your worst moments. I encourage you to keep being curious about your strengths and growing edges and remind yourself that no moment in time defines you.
Neither of my children have been great sleepers. My son, Miles, is 17 months old and is still struggling in the sleep department. He has only slept through the night one time since he was born and there have been many nights when I have only slept a few hours. I know the lack of sleep has led to me to be forgetful, scattered, and not as patient with myself or others as I would like to be. In my human moments I have to remind myself that I am good and beloved, in spite of my perceived mistakes.
I am nothing less than my best moment-This addition to the list might surprise you. However, most people create an identity rooted in their ego and successes. As equally dangerous as being nothing more than your worst moment, an identity based on achievement is fragile. Your accolades are not permanent, and do not fully define you.
While some of Nouwen’s 5 lies are rooted in shame and the idea that we don’t measure up, this last lie is a more narcissistic one that is tempted to ignore our weaknesses and humanity. No matter how many moments of glory we have achieved, we are still humans who fall short and make mistakes. A healthy theology acknowledges the fact that we are already enough and yet we still have vulnerabilities we need to address.
When I am not in a healthy or grounded place, I find myself susceptible to believing these lies. And if you’re honest with yourself, all five of these lies can disrupt your own sense of identity as well. But when these lies take hold, they prevent you from living life compassionately and fully.
I often try to untangle myself from these lies by talking back to them, but I would like to close with a mantra meditation that helps me return to a truer and more soulful version of myself.
I have enough
I do enough
I am enough
My loves ones are enough
I am worthy of love and belonging.
