The Gift of Disillusionment

I've been reading a lot of Peter Rollins lately, and have been thinking about something that he talks about quite a lot - the gift of disillusionment.

Now, as one who experiences disillusionment more often than I would like (hazards of being a dreamer, I guess), it's really hard for me to wrap my head around the idea that disillusionment can be a gift.  Especially because so often it's disappointing and sometimes can even be painful.

Nobody likes to have their hopes and expectations crushed.  Nobody likes to have their ideas about their friends shattered.  Nobody likes being "let down."

There's a How I Met Your Mother episode where each of the gang's flaws are pointed out to them.   The episode is Spoiler Alert from Season 3.  Each time a flaw is revealed, we hear the sound of glass shattering.  It almost breaks up the group, because everyone chose to ignore what would irk them most about their friends.

Lily loudly crunching on carrots

And yet, it's only when the glass is shattered - both on the show and in our own lives - that we have an idea of who the other person is.  Instead of truly knowing one another, we create ideas of who the other person should be.

So, of course, instead of loving the other person for who they are, we love our idea of the person we think they are.

This happens all the time, and most of the time our ideas about the other person aren't terribly far off.  We like the same music they like or have the same taste in movies or books.  They think pretty similarly to how we think.  They have similar goals and aspirations.  The list goes on and on.

And our assumptions are helpful - to a point.  They give us places to go in conversation that help us build a relationship with one another.  They help create a sense of community and belonging.

The problem is that when are assumptions hold the relationship or community together.  In these cases our relationships aren't honest.  Our community isn't being faithful to its people.  We love our idea of the other person or our community too much to see them for who (and whose) they are.

In these cases, having our ideas about the other person are necessary.  We need disillusionment (and it's pain) to help us see more clearly.  Our disillusionment actually brings to light a more honest look at the other person.

In other words, the pain of disillusionment is actually a gift.  A gift because we now see the person or community we love on their own terms.  It's an opportunity to enter into a new relationship with the person and accept them not just in spite of, but perhaps because of the ways that they are different from us.

To enter into a relationship that challenges us and helps us to grow.

To enter into real community.

To truly love the person and not just love an extension of our self.

That sounds like a really powerful gift to me.