@ Sea With Justin Mcroberts

Welcome to the At Sea podcast. I'm your host, Justin McRoberts. One of the points of conversation we are returning to over and over during this series we're doing at the intersection of mental health and spiritual practice has to do with the benefit or the problem of familiarity with mental health issues, mental health terminology, and with diagnostic tools. There's a world of conversation now in public about what it means to be depressed, to have depression, to live with ADHD, and to have anxiety. Does the familiarity with and the public dialogue about these things actually benefit us? That was one of the reasons I was looking forward to talking to Dr. John Delony because so much of what he does, doesn't just happen in books. He's written a few books but actually happens in a public and public dialogue with people who bring him their life issues. And he brings to them a knowledge of brain chemistry and our knowledge of mental health patterns and practices in an attempt to not just meet the caller when they c

Hello, and welcome to the At Sea podcast. I'm your host, Justin McRoberts. This episode of the podcast takes us deeper into the ongoing conversation here at the At Sea podcast. At the intersection of psychotherapeutics and spiritual practice, this time with author, pastor, speaker leader, and coach Nicole Unice. I think you'll pick up in the conversation that we haven't had a truckload of conversations. We've been trying to have this conversation for quite a while. I definitely find in Nicole Unice a kindred spirit not only because of our affinity for young life and kids but even in the odd gravity we both feel towards the word pastor and a love for the institutional church. She lives in Richmond, Virginia, although she speaks all over the country. And her most recent book, the one we'll talk about in the conversation, is called, The Miracle Moment: How Tough Conversations Can Actually Transform Your Most Important Relationships. I really enjoy how she enters into the relational dynamics at a granular level a

Early on in my vocational career, I was on staff with a ministry organization. I was hoping to plant a church, making some music. I was around a lot of people, and a partner of mine, a friend, someone I knew who I was working with, described my overall posture as that of an ambulance chaser. They intended to point out that I tended to lean into difficult situations. That I wasn't causing drama. But as he put it, "If there's a bleeding wound somewhere, you want to go patch it up." Their hope and intention wasn't to insult me or disparage my character, so much as it was to point out this tendency in me to, maybe, overextend myself, that while it's a good thing that I want to help, while it's a good thing, that I actually do care. Both of those things are true, they were true, they're true now. I really do care. And I really do want to help, just because I care. And just because I want to help doesn't mean it's my business. Probably more important than that was this, they were pointing out that I was wearing mys

I met Stephen Roach a number of years ago at an event he curates called the Breath and the Clay. It's a conference, an Arts and Faith Conference in North Carolina. And I'd heard about the Breath in the Clay through artists who had participated in the conferences, as presenters. And then some folks who had attended the thing. And, and all of them had something similar to say about it, that it was not just different, but different in this particular way, that they left with a sense of belonging in the world of the arts, that less, less than leaving just equipped as an artist to make their art, or less than just feeling inspired. More than that, they left feeling they had a place in the world of the arts. And that's such a vital aspect, I would suggest great art, of great culture, and of life. Not just feeling equipped, internally, but feeling a sense of belonging in place in my world, and in my particular culture. We've become friends since then we chit chat off and on. And I've been looking forward to this int

Welcome to the At Sea podcast. I'm your host, Justin McRoberts. The emphasis I've placed so far this season on the practice of poetry actually positions us to have some conversations well to continue some conversations that I care a whole lot about. Really specifically beginning with this episode of Focus, concentrated focus on the intersection and overlap between psychotherapy and religious practice. As someone who's benefited both from therapy and spiritual direction, this intersection is a place I experienced a great deal of life while also coming to a great deal of very complex and really interesting questions about what it means to be me, what it means to be human, what it means to have relationship what it means to be a person of faith.One of my favorite people working in that intersection at that intersection is KJ Ramsay. KJ works at that intersection as a therapist and an author who talks profoundly about issues of faith. And it just so happens, has recently produced a volume of poems and prayers, wh

Among the many gifts I got early in high school was an F I got on a paper from an English class, a paper that the teacher said was too poetic. What he didn't mean by that is that I had written great poetry in the wrong place. What he meant really, in large part, is that it was really poorly written poetry. A lot was going on for me at the moment. One was I really wasn't actually prepared to write the paper he suggested I write. I didn't actually do the assignment the way it was assigned. So there was that I was a bad student. Secondly, a lot of my literary influences weren't literary in the academic sense. They were. They were poems. They were Lyrics by Morrissey or Robert Smith of the cure any number of folks in the new wave kind of genre of music, and I was deeply influenced by their words because I felt their words. And the topic of the paper. I don't remember specifically, but I wanted to feel it when I wrote about it. It had to do with what you wanted to be when you grew up. And for me, at the time, I wa

I don't remember the exact details surrounding my introduction to Gregory or his work. I do remember that upon my first reading, I was captured. In fact, one of my favorite live performance moments ever was sitting with my friend David dark, who's also been a guest on this podcast several times, at a reading of Gregory Orr's at Mount Holyoke College in South Hadley, Mass., and having one of those shared when I grew up, I would like to be like that moments. I could say quite a bit about his work in order to set this up. Instead, I would like to get you directly to the interview he reads from a most recent volume of his towards the tail end. And I'm so glad that he did. I think you will be too. Enjoy this. Links for Gregory OrrWebsite - http://gregoryorr.netLatest Book - Selected Books of the Beloved

On most Sundays, I get the privilege of gathering in my house with a group of preteens and reading through bits of the scripture and talking about them. And then praying together, it's a thing we call the good news Club, which borrows from a tradition we've gleaned from. One of my favorite parts of these gatherings is that we don't just read from one translation of the Bible. We actually crack open three or four different translations and interpretations of the Bible and read the same story, the same text, and the same bid, including the Jesus storybook Bible and the message we read from the NIV. We have an NRSV. We have like a bunch of different texts and translations. And it's been a kick to pay attention to the ways these sometimes first-time Bible readers will notice the difference between word usages, that in this version of Mark, this person uses this word. And over here, they use this word. It's the same story, the same moment, different words.The practice is less about developing a taste for or a part

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry, I could not travel them both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could, to where it bent in the undergrowth, you might recognize that as the opening stanza to the Robert Frost poem, The Road Not Taken. It's the poem that ends, Two roads diverged in the wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and it has made all the difference. It's probably even more familiar. I remember being exposed to that poem. It was probably the first poem as a whole poem that I was actually taught or read really fully exposed to. I think I was a freshman in high school. And as I was exposed to and read and saw this poem, really for the first time, two things happened in me that I recall. One was a kind of, I guess, embarrassed response poetry, poems. They were written by and for hyper, emotive, weird people. And that if you were into poems and you liked poetry, then you must be a hyper-emotive and weird person. I was on the football team. I ran track. I wa

Welcome to the At Sea Podcast. I'm your host, Justin McRoberts. I'm recording this on December 21, 2022. It is the winter solstice, the day where I live that features the least amount of light. The night is longest. And I'll be honest with you, I'm not feeling great. I don't know if I quite have the flu yet, but I might. Because my daughter does. And I found that out a few hours ago. It's been really since Sunday. She wasn't feeling well on Sunday. She was feeling not so great on Monday, so she didn't go to school, then she didn't go to school on Tuesday, and then today, Wednesday. She certainly did not go to school. She has been very sick. Last night, when she went to bed, it was mostly just cold symptoms. That was sniffles, and it was a little bit of a headache. And then she mentioned that one of her ears wasn't feeling great. Oh, I thought. And not too long ago, her being in bed by herself. She woke up and started vomiting. Her brother came downstairs to let us know that she had, in his words, puked everyw

It's possible, if not likely, that if you are remotely pop culture aware and spend any time on social media platforms, you'll see news about or posts about the death, the passing of dancer, DJ, choreographer named tWitch.I was struck by the moment I heard about his passing. A fan of his, I've liked his work, I've liked him on TV. I've liked his posture online otherwise. I was saddened by the fact that h e's only 40 years old. And I felt the thing that I read that Jen Hatmaker wrote in her public post.She said this line that struck me and sort of set this thought in motion, she said he was suffering, and we didn't even know pain has never been easier to hide. Some of what you might have seen, which is what I have seen, is folks confessing or saying out loud, like, you know, he seems so happy. It's so shocking. And it's always shocking. When depression or anxiety, when mental health issues surface. A lot of the time, it's a surprise; we're shocked. We're even to some degree scandalized. We didn't know that that

I'm recording this introduction a few days after Thanksgiving. And if you're listening to this when the episode comes out, it'll be roughly a week, maybe a week and a day or so after the Thanksgiving holiday, which is to say this is the holiday season. And between Thanksgiving and maybe some things that happen in between. And the Christmas holiday is a season during which we sit down at a table with neighbors, with friends, with family, with people who share different ideas hold different ideas about how the world works. Usually, what we mean by that is they hold different religious or different political perspectives. And the rule the cultural rule has become you don't talk about politics. You don't talk about religion. At the dinner table, and specifically during the holidays, I see story after story or anecdote after anecdote on most of my social media platforms about nightmare scenarios or nightmare fears, things happening during the holidays, around politics, and religion among family members and neighbo

In 2002, I wrote and recorded a song called love. And I've been waiting to write some kind of follow-up to that song pretty much since I released it. It was a song that meant a lot to me at the time because I was trying to publicly and personally redefine the word and my experience of the word love for myself. And for people that were interested in paying attention. To me, it was this hopeful attempt, I guess, to push back on the idea, or the constant suggestion that love was a feeling. And that just hadn't been my experience. Certainly, there have been feelings involved, as it were. But love, while it included feelings was just more complex, it was more difficult. It was harder, it was Messier. It was just bigger. And I wanted to write something that actually spoke to maybe the more difficult and messier and poetic slash practical elements and aspects of love. And so I wrote this song that is, as it's recorded, both Sung and screamed, which was part of my experience of love. Here's a clip of that song and ho

I’ve long lived with Seth Godin’s suggestion that art is anything you make that forges a connection between people. Over time, and in that light, I’ve also come to recognize that the depth and sustainability of my professional art life has a lot to do with the particular people I am connected to in/through my work. Which brings me to my now 12yo son, Asa. Asa wrote a lot of the melody for the song “Graduation” and is the main vocalist on the finished track. It was the thought of connection with him on this project that really moved me to do it. Of course, there were many points of connection throughout the whole process (and definitely now, after is release). But what provided the project’s core energy was specifically sharing the writing and recording process with my son.So, on a personal level, the life in and behind this EP is rooted in the love I have for that remarkable young man, Asa. And, on a broader scale, I think being able to name/identity specific people is what makes it possible for an Artist (of

It used to confuse me when, as people talked about relationships, romantic or otherwise, they would refer to the relationship as, like a third entity, there was the person and a person, or a few people. And then there was the relationship that they're in like it was this other thing. You, me, and then the relationship. But it turns out there's actually something to that. Sometimes what's being referred to by the relationship is this idea of what we should be or what we could be like, if we did this. Well. Sometimes it's a good thing, specifically when that vision is a shared vision. And we're in lockstep and headed in that direction, trying to become that vision, that ideal of what a relationship looks like. But sometimes, the relationship we're referring to and feel responsible for isn't at all reflective of the actuality of the connection between us. It doesn't help us love each other or even see each other.I can see this clearly. And so often when the relationship we're speaking of is with the church, or j

I've never really enjoyed fighting. And while I know there might be some folks who come to a different conclusion, depending on their experience of me, the reality is that while I certainly did Hone some skills in the art of argumentation, I've always actually hated what it's cost me to fight. Which brings me to the question, what is worth fighting for? And the truth of the matter is, for the most part, I've lacked a really clear or wisely discerned answer to that question. I could reason the question on a large scale and say things like racial justice is worth fighting for, affordable healthcare is worth fighting for, or clean water is worth fighting for. But when it comes to answering that question, on the scale of my life, my limited life, things get quite a bit foggy here. I've boiled some of the important bits of wisdom I've gained in this area of my life down to these two short poems. The first reads some battles should be lost. That is, sometimes, the best way forward. Losing battles has opened me not

My social landscape does not look the way I expected it to a few years ago. Some of that comes on the heels of religious difference or political disagreement. And as sad as that stuff can be, it's also a bit cliche and predictable. If I'm being honest, what's been harder, is recognizing that the more I've grown into who I am, and the more distance I've experienced between myself and people I was once connected to - those connections have been harder to let go of, as has been the familiarity I had with my former self. I felt some of these things before I was experiencing something like it in 2004, when I first heard the song, let go. And on the other side of a very strange season, marked by both grief and newness, I found myself liking where I was in life, and also tasting the bitterness of saying goodbye to what had been true, and had been comfortable before. So it is again today, and maybe you resonate with that feeling, I have a feeling you might. So is there beauty in the breakdown. That's what I'm countin

When I first started playing music professionally, it wasn't the beginning of a dream. It wasn't the culmination of a wish from my youth, not really. I thought of playing music. I thought it would be cool. But it's probably most true to say about that moment, the moment in which I decided to see what it would be like to have a career in music was that it was another step. And a long trajectory of vocational decision-making that wasn't about a particular career. So it wasn't about I really want to play music, or I really want to perform. It was always about connecting with people. And finding the best way to do that for me, before I started playing music professionally in 1998, I'd been on Young Life staff for about five years. And during that stretch from 1993, to 1998, I also picked up some jobs as a teacher. I was looking for ways to connect with people to give myself away with the best of my gifts, my talents, and my energies. Over the course of time, that made it kind of easy to let go of some of the musi

So I've been really enjoying this new feature of the podcast, taking a question from my Monday q&a sessions at Instagram, and digging just a tad deeper into one of those questions, specifically, those questions when you seem to resonate with those questions and my response. This past week, I got a question that I've been around and asked a lot as a question by somebody who asked "Why do churches struggle with attendance?"  It's like I said; it's a question I've been around for a long time. I pastored or helped pastor church for 20 years, and questions about attendance and why people show up or why they don't show up. Pretty regular, comprehensive conversation, especially as time went on. At some point during my tenure as a church staff person, we were looking at numbers gathered by experts in church culture, church attendance, etc. And the numbers that jumped out to us were that while the population of the United States of America had grown by something like 11%, church attendance had fallen off by someth

You've probably had the bad experience that I had recently, that I'm about to tell you a story about, in which when your mind is already focused on something. You're already thinking about something regularly, and you start noticing it or connections to it everywhere. That happened the other night while I was reading a book to my daughter to help get her to sleep. I am in the process of editing and finishing this book called Sacred Strides, which will come out in 2023, about belovedness, about discovering my belovedness through both rest and work. My daughter, who's five right now, picked a pair of stories for me to read. And one of those stories was Lobos Classic Collection, The Adventures of Frog and Toad. I don't know how familiar you are with the stories, but they're brilliant. They're hilarious. They're well written, and there's wisdom in the stories that sneaks up and pinches me every once in a while, including this moment. So the story specifically is called the garden. And in that story, Toad notices