Fear and Courage
Fear –
always upon me, catching my breath, making my stomach drop.
The stubborn fear that lingers and pervades.
The unspoken fear that haunts my dreams.
The insidious fear that complicates my soul.
The heartbreaking fear that makes me want to run to my room and cry.
All of these fears –
picked up and contaminating one another, trading secrets amongst themselves.
The fear-mongerers are sharing strategies for keeping me afraid. They know my buttons and how to push them – oh, so many ways.
The thing is – I’m not sure how to write about them. I’m daunted by the task.
See? Another fear.
It’s one fright after the next. You think you’ve eliminated one, and then five more spring up to take its place.
How to contain the fears? Is containment the wrong approach? Maybe slaughter is better? Or surrender? Or escape?
Chasing the fears away gets tiring. Maybe it’s best just to invite them in.
Oh, drat. Another fear! They never stop. Who knew I was a girl living with so many reasons for being afraid? It’s a wonder I can even get out of bed.
The best approach seems to be to keep things simple. Simple and wise. That’s the way for me.
Perhaps being fearless is not the thing to aim for. Perhaps the better thing – the more human thing – is to be afraid, but to do the thing your heart is calling you to do anyway. That’s where courage where comes in.
Courage – from the Latin cor, meaning “heart.” To be a person of courage is to be a person of heart. The valor of a deep-feeling heart can withstand many obstacles.
That means, the question is not – when will you stop being afraid? But rather – what will you do to ennoble your heart, making it big enough to accommodate your fears, but also wise enough to help you see when they’re leading you astray?
Once you begin to ignore their crooked counsels, you can finally set out toward becoming the person you’ve been longing to be.
Brief Thoughts (No. 21)
How do I find a reason for my life? What is a purpose strong enough to give me an unshakeable will to live?
I can of course say “honoring God,” or something like that – but that’s just what I’m supposed to say. It’s full of the feeling of obligation, not desire.
Sure, some Catholics might reprimand me for this – tell me that I’ve got my priorities out of line and what I really need to do is get to the place where I can desire just one thing, and that’s the “Will of God.”
That’s all well and good, but again, it feels forced – bland, even, or obligatory – like I’m parroting the words I’ve been taught I ought to say.
It doesn’t in fact rivet me, or inspire me, or charge me with desire. Maybe I’m just not holy enough. Fine. But I think the fact of the matter is that I’m a human, and I need God to talk to me in a way that resonates with my own heart and soul.
I don’t want to be sunken down by the weight of all these expectations of suffering – all these messages which just make life, including a life of faith, feel like one, ceaseless, leaden obligation.
Send me a messenger of help. Send me a messenger of joy. Set me free to live in a way that’s inspired and inspiring.
Car Karaoke
My car is old enough that it has a built-in CD player. Earlier this summer, for my birthday, my brother got me a few CDs to add to my little console collection. Now I’ve got Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez sandwiched between a CD of my pianist-friend playing Chopin and the complete set of Beatles albums.
One of my favorite things about driving is putting on music and zipping around town (or even better, meandering down back country roads), letting the lyrics and melody transform the whole experience. It just adds a little magic to life, don’t you think? (Bonus points if you can identify the song I’m listening to here. Ignore how crazy I look.)
Brief Thoughts (No. 20)
I want to love God fiercely and deeply, but I don’t want to be thought of as “pious” or, especially, “pietistic.” I want my blood to run warm, not cold, and I want my spirit to be free to move as it is moved.
…
I can imagine feeling peace without joy. But what about joy without peace? I know they’re supposed to be yoked, one tied mysteriously to the other. If my hand were forced, and I could pick only one to have, I think I would choose peace. But it would be so nice to feel some joy now and again….
Under the Weight of Things
Here we are – standing before the summit, unsure even whether we ought to climb. Is it long or is it short? Always trying to find the perfect solution, the perfect path to beauty and order and rightness – and yet, the chaos of life makes this mission practically impossible.
Warm – hot. The days are long and I am sitting with my pain, unable to express it because it might bowl me over. It might undo all the work I’ve done to get to this place of sturdiness and stability. (Even if it is a sad and worn-out stability.)
How do I find a reason for my life? What is a purpose strong enough to give me an unshakeable will to live?
I can of course say “honoring God,” or something like that – but that’s just what I’m supposed to say. It’s full of the feeling of obligation, not desire.
Sure, some Catholics might reprimand me for this – tell me that I’ve got my priorities out of line and what I really need to do is get to the place where I can desire just one thing, and that’s the “Will of God.”
That’s all well and good, but again, it feels forced – bland, even, or obligatory – like I’m parroting the words I’ve been taught I ought to say.
It doesn’t in fact rivet me, or inspire me, or charge me with desire. Maybe I’m just not holy enough. Fine. But I think the fact of the matter is that I’m a human, and I need God to talk to me in a way that resonates with my own heart and soul.
I’m worn out by people’s judgment. I’m worn out by feeling like everything I do, or naturally feel or desire, is somehow wrong or falling short because it doesn’t meet someone’s idea of perfection.
I’m tired beyond words. I’m exhausted. There’s not much to say now except that I want to be free. I want to be light. I want to be well.
I don’t want to be sunken down by the weight of all these expectations of suffering – all these messages which just make life, including a life of faith, feel like one, ceaseless, leaden obligation.
Set me free to live in a way that’s inspired and inspiring.
Here I go – trying to pick my way through the web of confusion. I’m tired and I don’t want to keep walking. Send me a messenger of help. Send me a messenger of joy. The joy that’s beyond me – that seems like it will never be.
How many ways have I got it all wrong? Everyone’s always saying you have to renounce your own desires and subjugate them to God’s. I love God – but this way of doing things is making me feel dead.
How do I find a way that makes sense to me without running the risk of being selfish or of separating myself from God?
I wait but I only see the disappointment, the pain, the undoing, the mediocrity. I’m trying my best to live a holy life – or, as I’d rather say, a good life. I’m trying hard to be good. But I’m tired and I don’t want to keep making up motivations for myself. They’re not strong enough. They’re weak – and I end up flat and out of steam.
And so I go, walking on under the weight of things. I can’t find a reason to wait anymore. I can’t find a reason to love. But the thing is – I will always keep loving, as long as I’m alive. There’s no sense in it, except to notice that the love is the beauty that makes me feel alive – makes life feel like it’s worth living….
What Was I Made For?
“Think I forgot how to be happy – something I’m not, but something I can be.” This music video is so simple, but the part when it suddenly starts raining really touched me. From the new Barbie movie.