part 2 (part 1 here)
when your faith has been gutted, you have a few options.
pendulum swing into the abyss.
play pretend: revert to the "approved" beliefs because the security of belonging and certainty is safer than the unknown.
or
reject the capitulation to fear and keep swimming.
and so last fall, though i knew very little, i knew in my bones that i didn't trust fear as my guide. and i knew consciously limiting my capacity for critical thought and growth was not the right answer for me. over time, it became clear that i was having a natural response given the jarring uncertainty, the loss, and the consequences of having ventured into (seemingly) uncharted territory.
i could quit.
or i could continue, trusting the universal pattern of life: life, death, new life. order, disorder, reorder. solve et coagula.
i started small. with books. familiar territory. intellect sometimes provides the illusion of progress, while disguising the reality that you are avoiding tangible learning through living. avoiding real risk. you're standing at the boundary looking out, perhaps farther than others go or feel comfortable with you going, but you are still separate. an observer. safe.
nevertheless, this was my baby step. i read books from all sides of whichever questions i had, in the name of moderation, balance, wisdom. with trepidation i opened up to my husband. we had tearful, heartfelt, healing, validating, beautiful conversations. some of my most cherished memories. free of pressure to be anywhere other than where we were.
my fears slowly eased.
i dipped my toe back into podcasts from last year. and i found that i was still grounded. no longer blown away into a dozen pieces. no longer losing myself. i found new voices. i found new synchronicities. healed from the personal pain and loss of last year, practicing mindfulness, embodiment, meditation, creativity. learning to recognize when my body constricted out of fear or hurt, learning to gently go forward, not pull back. open more, constrict less. feel, not avoid.
and as always, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. in the form of unexpected, rightly-timed friendships, discoveries, books, speakers who had weathered the path of not only deconstruction but also reconstruction. the creation of something entirely new out of the old; the reframing of that which had previously caused harm into something that breathes life into you.
now i think of that prayer last spring.
and i wonder if this...this whole year, from the ugliest hurt to the most beautiful discoveries, if this journey itself is not a punishment as fear would have me believe, but rather the beautiful gift of god to a fearful human who decided to plug her nose and jump into the waters anyway.
i wonder if this is faith.
this relentless trust in the paths of uncertainty.