Forgiving Superman

When I was a young’n, watching “The Adventures of Lois and Clark” was a family affair.  Caleb loved the superhero interchange (it was about Superman...in case you are unfamiliar) and Faith and I (especially – although Amelia as the fourth was forced to join) would be swept into the continuous story and drama line.  Superhero or unfolding plot line as a secondary realization, however, years after my last episode and some clips still sit familiar as if the memory was fresh and new.

It seems curious...the clips a memory revives long after it first registers it.  The clips that would have made a strange impression as a child that now seem to be recalled with familiarity and truth.  There was one episode – late in the series – where Lois (now knowing Clark’s true identity) and Clark were married.  They were vacationing or something of the like when Clark heard something.  Off in a distance was a cry for help.  He was stuck.  Did he respond to the call because he knew, because he could, because he should?  Or did he stay back with his wife?  After all, he just wanted to be Clark Kent.  But he was also Superman...so was there any choice to be made at all?  Who would most need to forgive Superman?

It was this short clip from my memory and these and similar questions which plagued me this week.  Because, suddenly, the answers could be personal. 

You see, it all started when I was having an off Monday (which flowed into an especially busy week with days which were not 'off' just over-full). I don’t let myself have “off days” and I was increasingly grumpy not at the day but at my own bad attitude.  I was mad at the fact I couldn’t force myself into a better mood, that I was letting (and had let...) people down, that in my need to have someone come in allow me to have an off day...I couldn’t be the strong shoulders to lift up someone else. Two of my coworkers who know me best and whom I worked most closely with this last week challenged my inability to get a grip on my world.  Separately of each other both coworkers looked my directly in the eyes stating “No one expects you to be Superman, Anika...” 

Except, well, except I do... 

I have long since been accused of having a superman complex.  I have a desire to save the world.  Most specifically, yours.  If I know you...then I literally mean your world.  I’ll admit I’m a fixer but much more than a desire to come in and solve what is wrong, mostly I just want to answer your cry for help.  I care, I try, I invest, I want to be there for you – if at all I can be, no questions asked.  People need people in their lives who can be superman for them from time to time.  Argue as you well, but you know it is true.  I’ve wanted to be a superman for the proverbial or literal you. Regardless of the time of day or the time it would take.  Regardless of what I had to put aside or move out of the way...I’ve tried to prove to you that you are important, that you matter to me, that you are worth whatever I have to give...whenever you need it most.  Work, mentorees, a family wedding, friends, plans, dreams, investments, the human race...bring it on. 

All of this typically means I expect more out of myself on others’ accounts than anyone actually expects out of me.  But I’ve set myself up for the kill...because I like being Superman. I like rushing in to save the day.  I like to be the servant and the encourager – I think God wired me this way and so it’s okay to like to act out of that wiring.  And, furthermore, I don’t know how I can hear or see a cry for help and not do what I can if at all I’m able.  I can’t just “sit there” if there is an opportunity to stand. A piece of me, for better or worse, is Super[wo]man. 

But with such come the questions.  And the problems...

If you’re Superman, don’t you have to do whatever you can if at all you are able?  [What about when I want to save the day...and can’t?] Do the people who know you best as most human forgive your absence and unusually distant tendencies?  [Those who only know me only as Anika shake their head and chuckle at my need to take off at a moment’s notice, to sleep less to accomplish more, to be all – all of the time.  They don’t understand.] Do those who only see you as their superman...if you were missing when they needed you most, would they ever forgive you for needing to be human?  [There are some who only know me as the Anika who comes in to save the day, whatever that might mean.  Whether they intend to or not – they make me their superhero.  And they are the most let down when my inability to actually do all and be all leaves them wondering where I’ve been...] Do those who see and understand the pull between the two sides...are they the ones most lost and most hurt by the fact you feel unable to be their hero – but also unable to be their human, their you, their friend?  [And perhaps this question hurts the greatest.  The people I want to be there for the most I often feel are caught in the crossfire...left behind my by inability to be their hero or their friend...]

And what about when I just can’t be Superman any more?  When working 15-hour days followed by more work is too much?  When I’m weeks behind on the correspondence that used to be consistent and intentional? When I can’t send all of the emails or make all of the calls?  When I can’t run the errands, schedule the plans, devise another idea, make one more stop or drive one more hour?  When I can’t check in, when I can’t counsel, when I can’t advise, when I can’t be simply the listening ear?  When I can’t finish the project or a book or remember if I have hobbies? When I’m not sleeping and I’m not eating and I’m not releasing and I’m still leaving the world disappointed by my inability to be the conqueror?  What about then?  Will I be allowed to be Anika?  Will I be allowed to step out and to step back?  To hole away in hiding where I read and write and sleep and run but talk to no one until I can handle life again? 

Because regardless of what I want to be and what I am some times convinced others expect me to be...I’m not actually Superman. 

What if I just want to be Anika?  The human.  The normal.  The kind of kid that has bad days occasionally where she doesn’t want to be around people or at work.  The kind of kid who wants to be selfish and take time for herself.  The kind of kid who actually only knows how to and feels like she should say ‘yes’ but says ‘no’ when she wants to.  The kind of kid who wants to just step back and step out and not feel guilty about whether she’s had time to be intentional and the initiator. What if...?

And what then?

Would the world, my world, be able to forgive superman?  Should they have to?