This is a quote from one of my yoga instructors in New Orleans. I can’t even remember the context that she offered it in, but it was powerful. It washed over me in the way that universal truths tend to, poignant and esoteric, the type of thing you can’t grasp too firmly with your mind, cause it’ll ruin it lol.
notes on Femme Spirituality
femme spirituality: “Spiritual practices and interpretations of sacred texts that honor the divine feminine, Mother Earth, sacred sexuality and LOVE above all else.” [source]
[image source: https://www.ouvra.com/femme-spiritual%5D
i need femme-informed spirituality. i’m tired of this masc shit that’s all about the brain (often ignoring/denying the body), control and restriction, anti-pleasure.. i believe there’s ultimately a need for balance but i need to tip the scale in the direction of femme-dominant for now.
i need practices that don’t run away from, deny, or shame the shadow. ones that teach us how to look at it head-on, study it, learn its dimensions (Women Who Run with the Wolves type vibes)
paganism is femme – earth-centered spirituality: sexual, sensual, erotic, pleasure, death, rebirth, ritual, celebration, connection, nature, embodiment (listening to vs denying the body) — witchy vibes
complexity/moment of nuance & clarification: i struggle to speak about the concept of femme spirituality without it seeming inherently exclusionary. this isn’t about anatomy, it’s about having more options in the realm of understanding, celebrating, and working with the mystery of life.
i also don’t want to encourage binary ways of thinking, especially in relation to spirituality. we are all everything all at once, always, and i understand that’s too much for our human brains to hold. anyways, i digress.
here’s an excerpt from Holly Whitaker’s Quit Like a Woman to break down the contradiction between masc-informed spirituality and feminism.
AT THE ROOT
[bolded/italicized for emphasis by me, along with some reformatting]
At the Root of This Longing is a book written by the author, scholar, and educator Carol Lee Flinders. Flinders holds a doctorate from UC Berkeley in comparative literature, with a focus on medieval women’s mysticism; she has lived for most of her life in a meditative co-op under the tutelage of Eknath Easwaran, an Indian-born spiritual teacher. Flinders is a feminist and a deeply committed meditation student and teacher, with a profound depth of knowledge about women mystics. Her life is devoted both to the telling of silenced women’s stories and meditative discipline, and she set herself on a course to understand why her feminism felt so at odds with her spiritual practice. In doing so, she identified four key areas where feminism and spirituality contradict each other.
According to Flinders, all religious and spiritual traditions and specifically meditative practices—because they were built by men and for men—promote the following:
- self-naughting (destruction of the ego);
- resisting desire; and
- enclosure (turning inward, sealing off from the world).
As a feminist, naming these four requirements of transcendence troubled her. “I realized that however ancient and universal these disciplines may be, they are not gender neutral at all. Formulated for the most part within monastic contexts, they cancel the basic freedoms—to say what one wants, go where one likes, enjoy whatever pleasures one can afford, and most of all, to be somebody—that have normally defined male privilege” (emphasis mine).
What she is saying is that the underlying precepts of a spiritual path—in every lineage from which there is a path—seek to define a degree of spiritual freedom through reversal of status. And who has had that status in societies all over the world for the last few thousand years? Men. “Women, on the other hand,” she wrote, “have not been in a position to renounce these privileges voluntarily because they have never had them in the first place.” In fact, “they are terms of our subordination.”
When I read those lines in her book after that conversation with Cath, every hair on my body stood at attention because finally, finally, someone had put into words the thing that had been screaming in me since I was first told that my failure to submit to AA was really my ego run amok. Finally, what I read was: It makes sense that a woman might entirely refuse a program that asked her to give up something she’s not only never had, but was finally just grasping: a sense of self, a voice, a sense of her own desires, freedom in a world not made for her.
The opposite of these precepts, as argued by Flinders, is to
(1) “find your voice; tell your story, make yourself heard”;
(2) “know who you are. Establish your authentic identity or selfhood. Identify your needs and learn how to meet them”;
(3) “reclaim your body, and its desires, from all who would objectify and demean it, whether it’s the fashion industry, pornographers, or even the medical establishment. Recognize the hatred of the female body that pervades contemporary culture, and oppose it”; and
(4) “move about freely and fearlessly. Take back the streets. Take back the night and the day.”
❤ ❤ ❤ much luck out there; take care ❤ ❤ ❤
navigating liminal spaces
there’s a saying i learned when i was in AA — “the only way out is through”
like many AA sayings, it might not have originated in AA, but that is now my association with it. it came from a woman in a meeting after she described a deeply dark period of heavy drinking and chronic pain in her life.
i’d like to adapt this saying in relation to liminality — “the way through liminality is curiosity.”
i’ve honestly felt like i’ve been in a liminal space since the start of the pandemic. it’s like i’ve been in a perpetual limbo, uncertain how/when to take action.
the thing about the prince of liminality card in the tarot is the figure hanging upside down, hooked by their ankle is cool as a cucumber. not only that, they’re rocking a halo.
so the question becomes, how do you find a sense of calm amidst uncertainty, confusion, dissatisfaction, or a sense of stuck-ness? we become curious about it. we let go of the internal resistance to it (i like to think of this type of resistance as getting in a fight with reality).
anyways, long story short, it’s about acceptance, expansion. instead of attempting to control or change, we relinquish ourselves to it. and in that place of surrender, we find peace.
side note: it’s hard for me to describe something that feels like wisdom without grappling with the sense that i’m spiritually bypassing the inherent human struggle of it. like being like, *in lazily fancy voice* “oh, alllllll you have to do is accept it, my dears”
let me be clear: i will attempt to control with a chaotic vigor before i attempt to reach anywhere near acceptance.
i feel like there’s this idea, and i’m not exactly sure where it came from, that acceptance of reality, of something we don’t want or fear is like giving up. when in actuality, acceptance is always the first step towards true change, right? (can i get an amen?)
the irony of surrender is that it’s actually quite liberating. letting go of control, allowing ourselves to simply be another human trying our best is actually quite relieving.
this reminds me of another AA-ism: Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show.
sometimes when we’re in the in-between, it’s simply because we need to be there. and when i’m feeling truly connected, i see it as Spirit getting us ready for the next step.
alright y’all, i’m gonna end there ❤ ❤ ❤
a list of albums i’ve been in spiritual relationship with [work in progress]
aka albums that have gotten me through hard times, that have been companions, a source of support. they helped me feel seen, felt.
- current: Florence + the Machine – Dance Fever
- Miley Cyrus – Plastic Hearts
- Glass Animals – Dreamland
- Beyoncé – Lemonade
- SZA – Ctrl
runner-ups (albums i’ve had some pretty lusty flings with):
- Harry Styles – Fine Line & Harry’s House
- Ariana Grande – Sweetener & thank u, next
as you can see, i’ve had to come to terms with the fact that i guess i love pop (something i tried to avoid during my “cooler” years of listening to more indie tunes (which i still kinda do)).
acceptance as action & attention as worship
note: these musings are inspired by readings from Jessica Dore’s tarot book, Tarot for Change.
tarot pull this morning: the prince of liminality* and the king of swords
the prince of liminality is known for being a space of patience and inaction. the prince is literally hanging upside down and totally chilling, seemingly at peace. it’s a place of calm not because everything is good and has worked out but because we have created the capacity to merely exist with it. we have let go of resistance and control. it’s a place of acceptance.
Jessica Dore does a lovely job relating to acceptance as an action, one that can prompt interest, curiosity, and observation. she offers examples of this:
- looking at a difficult emotion with curiosity (to hopefully diffuse the sense of it being “dangerous”)
- extending validation to ourselves when our inner voice is tearing us down
- finding a sense of expansion to make space for a fiery emotion like anger/rage
- learning to sit with discomfort, making note of its dimensions, taste, and texture
becoming curious about emotions we’ve typically ran away from can turn us into the observer, as well as the feeler, of the experience. we can become like a scientist, noting the ways in which sadness, loneliness, boredom, and anger unfold within our being and the specific forms they take.
i remember earlier in the summer, making a point to sit with boredom. to let myself simply be with it without changing it. and lord, it was one of the hardest things i’ve willingly done recently. there was so much shame associated with it. being bored make me feel like a loser, like i was doing something wrong, like i was bad at life, a failure.
without curiosity, i wouldn’t have been able to sustain this for as long as i did. and even then, sitting with it and feeling all the shame and fear associated with boredom, i could understand why i ran away from it. it was scary to experience, it carried so much weight. it was hard and uncomfortable.
my point is that learning to sit with the things we’ve been avoiding is both incredibly difficult and possible. especially from the somatic perspective of titration** — taking things slow and steady, like step by step exposure therapy. if your anger terrifies you, set a 5 minute timer to sit with it. and then walk away. because too much exposure too soon and quickly can compound our fear and avoidance as it overwhelms our system.
the king of swords is like the pinnacle of where learning how to hone and direct our focus can take us.
Jessica makes a connection between attention and worship, which i find captivating. this reminded me of an adrienne maree brown quote: “what you pay attention to grows”
the ability to maintain focus on something in the “age of distraction” is no small feat. i think of the commitment needed to stay true to one’s unique personal path — the ability to come back to that place of inspiration and connection with the divine again and again and again.
the most obvious practice for learning how to return to a point of focus is meditation. but to be honest, i find meditation oddly triggering for reasons i don’t need to go into here. and so if meditation is not the practice you feel aligned with right now, let me offer some other options: reading/studying, writing, deep listening, praying – pretty much any moment in which you want to bring your whole mental presence to it.
which doesn’t mean always being in a state of flow. it’s also choosing to come back to something time and time again, no matter how many times distractions get in the way. it’s choosing to not get discouraged by having to begin again and again and again.
so if our attention is like worship, what do we wish to worship? TV, social media, each other, our dog, books, work, stress…? and i don’t say this to shame or judge, because i honestly believe we each get to choose. i am working hard to live in a place of, “it’s not for me to say what is right for you, only what is right for me.” (which is different than asking someone to account for harm done)
on a final note, Jessica offers us a moment of compassion, noting, “I’d suggest we go where our natural abilities lie in order to build strength and competence in things that come more easily to us before we toil in the realms that are more challenging.” this, to me, is telling me: gurl, you don’t need to start meditating and fasting [two very challenging practices for me] today or tomorrow. we’ll get there.
prayer: may i remember that acceptance is a practice, one empowered by a genuine sense of curiosity. may i use my attention with intention and awareness, growing the things i love and care about with devotion and discipline.
<3<3<3 good luck out there
*this card is typically referred to as “the hanged man” but considering the triggering nature of that name, especially for Black Americans, i use this title instead. this insight and new name for the card provided by Sarah Cargill of Tarot for the End of Times.
** Titration exposes a person to small amounts of trauma-related distress at a time in order to build up tolerance and avoid becoming overwhelmed by traumatic memories. In therapy, people pay close attention to the sensations they experience when revisiting a traumatic event and gradually become less affected by them.
podcast notes: the pitfalls of perfectionism (For the Wild w/ Alexis Shotwell)
podcast link — For the Wild – Alexis Shotwell on Resisting Purity Culture
personal epiphany prompted by the conversation: i don’t need to police myself. (where i go when i feel guilty about my behavior/choices)
noteworthy phrase: “pain of complicity” – what many of us resist, especially us white people, because it’s so hard and heavy to hold the ways in which we are responsible for/benefit from systems and histories of oppression. this sense of responsibility isn’t about shame — it’s ultimately empowering; it reminds us that we can take action against these systems. it’s a call to action.
i’ve been encountering this theme repeatedly recently, the connection between responsibility and empowerment.
noteworthy point: Alexis describes qualities of people who have been resilient in social justice movements, ones who are in it for the long haul and still pleasant (lol):
- they have a quality of curiosity – they bring their knowledge and experience but are also flexible to see what works for the specific group, cause
- they don’t collapse when they make mistakes – i think of this as ego work. as white people (people in general, but we’re speaking situationally here), we’re going to fuck up. it’s about how we show up to make it right, to make amends, to work towards repair that really matters.
- they have an orientation towards repair and responsiveness — i think of this as accountability work. accountability for harm (that doesn’t revolve around punishment), that moves with the intention of seeking reconciliation, is an incredibly kind gesture in community.
personal musing moment: as human beings living in a fucked up system, we’re going to reflect that interpersonally at times… and so instead of falling apart at what feels like criticism or like you’re a “bad” person, we can put our energy into moving towards a path of healing.
also, i’m speaking idealistically here, cause you know i’ve fallen apart at what feels like criticism or being called out more than once. i mean, the reason this podcast resonated with me is because i’m a recovering perfectionist, which is simply not copacetic with working for real change. we gotta move forward knowing mistakes will be many. which is why pouring energy into systems of repair is so vital.
Alexis Shotwell makes the point that individual perfectionism is anti-collectivist. without the ability to endure making mistakes in relationship, there’s no way to grow. and ultimately this leads to silence and inaction due to fear of doing the “wrong” thing, which is simply inevitable if we’re truly doing the work.
as white people, whiteness is a lot to grapple with, to hold, not just the past trauma but the present. we are peeling the onion of power and oppression. so if having to confront that in yourself feels rough, it’s because it is.
and i don’t say this to center white comfort but to prepare us white folks for the fragility we may encounter in the face of racial reckoning. i think it’s helpful to be reminded that some things are just hard. not because we’re doing it wrong or because we suck (which is centering ourselves), but because it’s fucking hard and grimy and depressing to confront. it’s collective shadow work. the only way to heal is to bring it all out into the light.
Alexis mentions 3 Types of Relationships she’s been curious about recently:
- the power of friendship, whether animal, places, people, nature; “mushroom friends, animal friends, people friends, mountain friends,” etc. – she makes the point that it’s a myth that only our family will take care of us.
- “forming collective is a skill” – that’s all i wrote for this one. but i’ve been thinking about this more and more recently — is there an activism/social justice school?
- the importance of naming enemies and opposing them – “opposition is a relationship”
the podcast also mentions an essays of hers called “Claiming Bad Kin” that i made note to check out. here’s an excerpt:
“I am interested in what it could mean for white people and settlers more generally who benefit from historical and current effects of enslavement, colonialism, border militarism, racial distributions of environmental devastation, and capitalism to claim kin with the people producing these effects. If we are complicit in the pain of this suffering world, how might we take responsibility for our bad kin?“
personal musings part 2: when we make a mistake, and we don’t make it about ourselves, about how “shitty” we are, when we don’t shame spiral, we are able to step into the responsibility and humility of being in relationship in a way that really excites and comforts me. it’s like we think there’s something righteous about “punishing” ourselves.. i’d say actually letting ourselves feel the depth of the pain of unintentionally harming another person is enough. anything more becomes self-indulgent, becomes about us, the person who’s fucked up, instead of tending to the other person and repairing the harm done.
but let me be clear: it’ll probably also take some individual processing after the fact, because if you’re a perfectionist, fucking up hurts. it feels like it could kill you. so the more we feel it, hopefully the less fragile our ego becomes in the face of it. because it’s not about me or you, it’s about us. we’re going to fuck up and we’ll all ultimately need help to figure out the road back from it.
side note: i had a hard time writing this post, because it can be hard to reflect and digest lessons without feeling like i’m lecturing. any tone of lecturing is ultimately about me towards me, not anyone else. i am the one eager to grow here. and if it resonates with others, that’s of course a lovely bonus.
also, these ideas are fresh to me, and it can feel awkward working out ideas in real time. oh, the irony about my perfectionist taking over as i try to write about resisting it. it’s hard to learn in public, to rationalize mistakes as a part of growth (especially in a shaming culture). shame and social rejection are powerful tools for silencing and causing action paralysis. it leads to us trying to stay “safe” from criticism, which is the opposite of what change is about. but goddamn is it scary.
good luck out there ❤ ❤ ❤
prayer: when i have made a mistake, when i am being held accountable for harm done, may i remember that i am one of many folks who will walk this path of reconciliation. may i not collapse under the weight of imperfection. may i remember, as Alexis says, that i am “good enough,” and that most importantly, i will show up for repair.
morning reflection: forging your own way
my tarot card this morning has prompted me to think deeper about the process of forging one’s own path.
this comes to me through the three of wands. in Jessica Dore’s tarot book, she describes this card as the “liminal stage of initiation” when our “dream doesn’t align with the framework” we’ve been given. it’s about forging a life that is original, unique to you. it is, in trite terms, taking the road less traveled. it’s choosing the hero’s journey, one of risk, sacrifice, overcoming, and ultimately growth.
she goes on to clarify, “I know how easy it is to feel like the house always wins and that it’s going to be bad for you, when in reality you are the one holding the cards and calling the shots.” to be in a place of pursuing self-actualization, she explains, is one of immense luck and privilege. she makes this point not to shame but to empower, to remind us that we do have a choice in who we are and where we go.
i’ve been trying to hold this reality of my personal power to try and work out what direction i want to go. and the lack of clarity continues to frustrate me.
i have a few things that are clear: i want to do something in service to the world, something that serves the collective. but this seemingly simple goal is surprisingly hard to translate into tangible terms considering so many jobs out there feel as though they’re at best neutral and at worst negative for the collective good.
it’s also complicated by my desire to earn a livable wage, which in the area of social services and the nonprofit sector is a very real struggle.
so liminal space feels like a fitting descriptor, one that articulates the in-between of taking my power back and getting clarity around how to wield it.
i want to take responsibility for serving the collective, so now i have the confusing work of working out how to get in alignment with that desire. is it getting a job in something i’m not passionate about to pay the bills while i get more involved in volunteering and community organizing? or do i pursue a paid community job and try to get experience and make change that way..?
another thing that’s clear: i crave a mentor. i crave training. i crave education and skill development. i want to feel purposeful, i want to feel capable, i want to feel guided.
sometimes in the in-between, all we can do is hold the intention, stay open, and continue to pursue the breadcrumbs of intrigue and passion that call to us.
prayer: may i stay patient in pursuit of what is true. may i practice faith and diligence in the name of the collective good. may i remember my blessed and interconnected nature. ❤ ❤ ❤
good luck out there ❤
the devil [tarot] – transmuting pain into power
i’ve pulled the devil tarot card two days in a row now, which means i must really need its medicine/lessons.
as someone who grew up with an intensely spiritual evangelical mother, i don’t like engaging with imagery (especially in my personal practices) that hearkens back to my christian childhood. so the devil card isn’t my favorite depiction in the tarot.
but similar to life, often that which we avoid and is exactly what we need.
i came across a great blog post that was able to take my relationship with this card deeper, one that goes beyond the guilt and shame associated with being an “impure” human. i’ve done a lot of work letting go of guilt and shame over seeking pleasure, but i still feel vulnerable in it. so anything that feels like it’s telling me to feel bad about myself feels can feel threatening; i’m scared of going back to that place.
what i appreciate about the blog post is that she reframes “destructive” behaviors as reflections of unmet needs.
this makes me think of a recent dear jessamyn episode i was listening to in which Jessamyn muses that in order to truly let something go, you have to come to understand it profoundly. and i felt the author of the blog post was making a similar point — if we want to transmute certain thought patterns or behaviors that don’t serve us, we must first get at the root of them, get to know them.
which reminds me of parts work in the internal family systems model and the way Dick Schwartz claims that even the “worst” parts of ourselves are there for a reason, trying to help us, even if in the most maladaptive ways. “Our parts can sometimes be disruptive or harmful, but once they’re unburdened, they return to their essential goodness.”
so the devil seems to be asking us to step into the shadows (classic work proposed by Carl Jung), and to look, honestly and compassionately, at the parts of ourselves that disgust us or scare us. because their destructiveness is not due to their merely existing but in our choice to hide, ostracize, or “exile” them.
for example, there’s a part of me that i wish were more generous. and so i would start with investigating why it is that i feel uncomfortable giving things away freely. which would be bring me to my scarcity mindset, along with my often literal material scarcity. and to then work out what does that part of me need to feel comforted, to feel good. is it to remind myself that i’m in community, that i can ask for help and lean on others, or do i simply need reassurance that i do have enough and that sharing feeds that sense of abundance.
how old is that part of myself? is it a childhood version of me that grew up in a house always worried about money? what does she need to hear? is it simply that everything is going to be alright, that it’ll all work out? or is it an older part of me that needs more grounded reassurance, like a budget?
our “bad” parts are ultimately about our pain, and the ways our behavior, actions, or choices are reflecting that which we’ve not yet confronted and healed.
first, we must acknowledge, sit with, hold,
and only then can we take aligned action.
muahhhhh. (casual kiss for the masses)
here are some questions i’m holding while i commune with this card:
- what parts of myself have i hidden, ignored, denied?
- how is denying of parts of myself reflected in my “bad” behavior?
- what are the unmet needs of these “exiled” parts?
good luck out there ✌️ ❤️
list: shit i’ve been fucking with recently (aka media i’m consuming)
- Fariha Roisin – queer Muslim writer; specifically her book Who is Wellness for? but also some podcast appearances, her IG, and her substack
- A Discovery of Witches – suggested by Fariha, i’m 2 episodes in so now i need to decide if i’m going to commit to a subscription to watch the rest. it’s about a modern world dominated by humans in which creatures such as vampires and witches exist, but in secret.
- The Staircase – i’ve watched the first episode upon the suggestion of ashe and Jessmayn on their podcast (mentioned below); it’s a true crime-y story about whether or not a husband killed his wife starring Toni Colette and Colin Firth. to paraphrase ashe, america truly loves the drama of the upper middle class.
- Becoming Abolitionist: Police, Protests, and the Pursuit of Freedom by Derecka Purnell – i’m 2 chapters into this one about an abolitionist framework and why the current systems of criminal justice and policing can’t simply be reformed. she’s a captivating writer, fluidly connecting the personal with the political.
- Dear Jessamyn, Season 4 – podcast featuring a biracial lesbian poly couple who discuss queerness, being in relationship, experiencing life, and growing from struggle. it’s shocked me numerous times in its vulnerability and honesty, along with a modern take on spirituality that really resonates with me.
- Tarot for Change: Using the Cards for Self-Care, Acceptance, and Growth by Jessica Dore – my second tarot book ever purchased, she takes an approach informed by psychology and behavioral science, which when paired with spirituality and storytelling, i find especially insightful. it’s added a lovely dynamic to my tarot practice, helping me to deepen and expand.
- The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin – i just finished this book the other day, and like any good first book in a trilogy, it’s like the story has just begun. the “fifth season” refers to a cataclysmic event that occurs every 100 years. pair this with a subset of humans called “orogenes,” which can manipulate the earth’s energy, and you’ve got a high stakes fantasy story. plus there’s some casual polyamory in there, which i’m a big fan of ha.
can i be self-honest without being self-critical? reflections on evolution of self
hey y’all, welcome back. it’s been a while..
i was recently reflecting upon/ruminating over my lack of consistency/follow-through. at my ability to be inspired and to then lose the thread once inspiration dissipates.
i reminded myself of a storytelling open mic i’ve tried to established more than once. or collaborations with friends that only lasted a month. or the somatics certification i got that i have no idea how to apply to my life. or my fleeting consideration to be a death doula. or having a freaking consistent writing schedule.
and so i began reflecting, sitting with the feelings of anxiety and disappointment, the sense that i was an incompetent failure. and a question emerged: can i practice self-honesty without falling into self-criticism? instead of falling into despair over all my perceived shortcomings, could i instead use the self-knowledge to evolve?
so i began evaluating ideas i’ve had that have played out and ones that haven’t. to try and work out what are the throughlines of what works and what doesn’t.
i can’t say that i’ve come to a place of intense clarity yet, beyond an understanding that i need accountability and purpose. i need a reason for doing something, and i need someone holding me to it.
i’ve recently been reconsidering human design, and my designation as a projector — the idea behind a projector is that they can’t create energy themselves. instead, they help guide the energy others create. the idea behind this nature is that you “wait to be invited” as opposed to imposing yourself on others.
maybe that explains something about the role that i’m supposed to play in the development and fruition of ideas.
but of course, this raises more questions than answers… i don’t want to think of myself as a person who doesn’t follow through, as someone with great ideas that never goes anywhere with them.
so i’m left at a standstill, trying to work out what i’ve been getting wrong. and where to go from here.
i don’t believe some people are just inherently incompetent. i believe, as diverse beings, we all need different resources and environments to succeed. i’ve recently been craving community and a mentor (to be fair, i’ve been craving these for a while, but i’ve revisited them with increased intensity during some soul-searching).
i need education, i need guidance. i don’t know how to create it myself, how to do it myself. and i guess part of this honesty process is accepting that that’s okay. that in this fiercely individualistic and entrepreneurial society, i don’t need to “prove” myself by doing it on my own.
and i guess that’s why the projector framework brings me comfort. instead of it being some lacking on my end, some lack of discipline, it becomes about my nature. it’s not a framework of “i suck,” but “i’ve been going about this the wrong way.”
so what are the conditions that will allow me to live out my purpose, to utilize my unique gifts in the name of the collective good? this is the question that’s been haunting me. and the more i strive for it, the more lost i become.
so instead, i follow the breadcrumbs of what interests me. i read/listen to the people who call to me. i take notes. i try to participate in my own education. i do tarot.
and yet, the confusion and anxiety remain. despite distractions or temporary balms.
i think about how this purpose-seeking is one of the greatest acts of faith i’ve experienced — to continue to hope, to believe. in spite of no (easily discernible) evidence in its favor. to trust in the process.
i’ve been coming to terms more and more recently the role doubt plays in faith. learning to understand that having doubts is not a sign of a lacking faith but of a healthy one. this relationship i have with Spirit is a living, breathing thing, so therefore fluctuations are natural.
but fuck does it hurt sometimes, those crushing thoughts and feelings of not being good enough, the fear of never being good enough. it’s enough to devour you, to keep you from ever even trying.
on an semi-unrelated note, here’s an image that’s been inspiring me recently:
much love y’all ❤