Faith keeps knocking on the door.

The path back home to myself is a bumpy and surprising one. It’s filled with twists and turns that I never would have anticipated. My desire for the path to be linear is laughable as I observe its complexity and brilliance, way out of the scope of anything I could have thought up on my own. I’m going along for the ride now. Self doubt and insecurity riding shotgun, yet we all seem interested in what’s happening, what’s next.

I am exploring the possibility of freedom in connection with faith. Faith in life as whole and complete and perfect right now. The laying down of efforting to be better, be more, prove my worth. I’m dipping a toe in enoughness. It’s compelling. To relax into acceptance of what is. I don’t know that I have ever experienced this relaxation before so it’s new for me. I’m not great at it yet but it’s getting easier and easier.

It occurred to me recently that insecurity and self doubt are a bit ridiculous in the face of this existence. We are all here doing the best we can to be human. Maybe they keep us distracted from the immensity of reality. From the truth of our mortality. From the overwhelming experience of life and love. What I know is that insecurity and faith can’t be alive in me at the same time. I have to choose in any given moment the lens through which I’m seeing this life. Faith seems like the bigger risk, the greater unknown, the relinquishing of (the illusion of) control. I know I can always go back into self doubt if I need something familiar to hold on to, but faith keeps knocking at the door. I suspect the path home to myself is ultimately one of faith so I keep moving forward, as my tender heart heals, letting faith reveal it’s mysteries to me one magnificent and terrifying moment at a time.