punch in the gut

If there is any definitive route to happiness, it is surely sense of place. - John Scoles


I feel somewhat homeless.

Proverbially speaking, of course. I am very privileged and blessed with a safe place to live. But I no longer feel the sense of place which I once felt.

Part of this is because my sense of place has been moved around from time to time, and because I don’t currently feel an anchor. At one time I felt wholly identified with Evangelicalism; within that body of people who understood God to be a certain way. Another time I felt anchored within the faith-based social justice movement, because God seemed more real and honest there than within the churches. I’ve tried other God-rooted groups. And Godly rooted relationships. Constantly looking for a home to rest in. These never seem to last, for one reason or another.

If I do have any true anchor, it is within Christ. But my understanding of who Christ is seems to shift so often. God’s bigness is difficult to work with. The more I know, the more I am convinced that I don’t know, the more intangible a relationship or a true understanding of the divine is.

Lately I feel like I have lost track of Christ. Like I have diverted my eyes for a second and Christ dissolved into the air, into the waters, into my skin. Which is cool, but frightening because it seems that Christ is so damned unknowable, so intangible, so frighteningly large and lovely and scary and I don’t know how to follow any longer because Christ is everywhere. Which is beautiful, but confusing, and I sort of long for the days where I felt so assured of heaven and hell and black and white and I knew the boundaries and where I fit in. I don’t know the boundaries anymore. And I definitely don’t know where I fit in anymore. And churches feel either exclusive and steeped in rules or inclusive and unanchored. And I love Anglicanism but I don’t think that it loves me. And I love the United Church but I don’t know how to do it – I don’t know the language and I don’t understand the discourse and I feel like an outsider looking into this wonderful group of graceful people. And I don’t know what to think about the atonement, or about communion, the sacrificial lamb story, the torn curtain, the mysterious parables, on and on and on.

I suspect this is good for me. But it feels like crap.

evil.

A child learns early there is a fashionable and an unfashionable in the world, an ugly and a pretty, a valued and an unvalued. Where this system comes from, God only knows, but it is rarely questioned, and though completely illogical and agreed upon by everyone as evil, it remains in play, commanding our emotions as a possession. It isn't something taught to us by our parents; it is something that comes naturally, as though a radioactive kind of tragedy happened, screwing up our souls. Adulterated or policed, the system can grow to something more civilized, but no less dominant as a drive of nature.
- Donald Miller, Searching for God Knows What

Lordey Lordey

Without community there is no liberation. - Audre Lorde

Deep.

Deep in the darkness is God.
- Rainer Maria Rilke

insecurities.

So I don’t have a rational thought pattern, but there are a lot of thoughts and feelings and overwhelming confusion going on in my brain today. So I’m just going to get it out. I can’t guarantee it will come out as sensical. These are basically the things I am thinking about.

I am pondering the role that anger has in forgiveness. I have recently been discovering that it might be an essential part of the forgiveness process. This seems crazy to me, and I am trying to figure this out. It might make more sense than I first considered.

As sure as I think I am about my authenticity in my faith and my relationships, I am constantly haunted by the question of whether I am actually full of crap. Is my faith simply a crutch? Do I believe in God only because the alternative is so terrifying? Is there any substance to my faith? Am I actually as honest with myself and others as I pretend to be? Does my sense of self worth rely on you liking me, and thinking me a good person? Do I have strength, or am I full of garbage? Do I have faith? Who am I fooling in this? You? Myself? I am sorry to both of you. I am trying as hard as I can. Or at least I think I am.

There are too many things on my plate right now. This is my fault, as always. I am scared because I don’t think I have the capabilities to complete all of these tasks. I am also scared of disappointing people who are relying on me. See above point.

I feel stuck. In so many ways.

At the same time these last few days I have felt very liberated. Very free, very powerful, and very lonely. Why do these always seem to come together? Though…

…I feel less liberated today, probably part of the regular ups and downs of moving towards a stable life again. Which is a good sign, I guess.

I want community. And I want to be happy where I am right here right now. And I want to know that I am surrounded by people who will stand beside me through hell and highwater. And moreso I want to be worthy of being stood beside. My friends are excellent. I suspect they would stand beside me during trying times, but I am too afraid to tell them what’s going on in fear of being walked away from. I want to trust my friends. I want to trust myself. I want to love like I’ve never been hurt. I want to sing like everyone is listening. And I want to trust God and dance again. But I feel glued to the floor.

And I’ve been going to counseling which has been really good for me. I’m a big believer. But find it difficult to ignore my deeper issues now, stupid counseling. Mostly my struggle with liking who I am and being able to see any beauty in who I am and what I do on a daily basis. That was hard to say. I feel naked now. Oh well. Its probably good for me. My struggle with self love and acceptance is compounded in places where I feel muzzled and unable to be myself, which is basically everywhere in my life, in different ways in different circumstances.

I want to find strength in God, in myself, and always work out of that. When I am able to work from that place, it feels magical, and I feel strong and I feel myself. But I am haunted by the fact that I lack the courage to do this everyday. I hide and I roleplay and I pretend and I play it safe. Because this world is so unsafe. How do I choose between my personal safety and my personal liberation? I feel stuck in a little box in most of my daily interactions. I hope to one day learn to work out of my liberation, and not out of my fear.

And I fear how lame this whole post sounds, and I am worried about whether I am trying to manipulate you, and whether I’m just using this blog as another crutch and a cry out for some sort of misguided juvenile need for attention.

But I am going to pretend that I’m not worried about that.

Ok, I feel better now.