The second part of getting unstuck is faith.
Faith that you have everything you need.
I have a convoluted relationship with faith. For a long time, I thought faith was something you bought on Sundays with the clink of coins on a shiny plate or the whisper of dollars disappearing into a basket.
And I tried, many times, to get close to my God this way. By going to church – or temple or mosque – and sitting quietly and hoping to feel.
And I never did.
I tried. I asked around. I had conversations with friends who are madly in love with God, or Allah, and they feel it. One of my friends tells me how she truly feels the spirit when she’s in church, how church is a sanctuary for her, how the fullsomeness of Jesus’ embrace can make her weep. When she told me that, I took my jealous ass to church and warmed a pew. And…nothing.
I’m an emotion-driven creature, and that applies as much to sex and money as it does to meaning. If I don’t feel it, I won’t do it.
So I didn’t do it. The faith thing. For years and years – forever – I never considered myself spiritual.
And all of that time, I thought I didn’t have faith because I didn’t have Religion.
There’s a difference, of course – but I only recently learned that.
I learned that from Danielle LaPorte, who claims and communes with and is the Divine Feminine – AND she’s a self-professed, certified and pedigreed “spiritual mutt“, as well.
I learned that from conversations with Ronna Detrick, who is a spiritual warrior, reclaiming her Christianity – and her faith and feminism – from dogma. From erasure. From automatic. From rules.
Because rules are for lazy people – and that I learned from Siddhartha Herdegen, philosopher, “Islamic finance scholar” (Siddhartha? Islam? I gotta know more!), wannabe economist and understated, poignant writer of The Principles of Failure.
His piece about rules and lazy people is living with me.
Siddhartha defines lazy, not as “ignorant or gullible or any other pejorative descriptor attacking a person’s mental abilities,” but as “a state of conserving effort or energy.” And he says that we make rules to conserve mental effort.
Effort is expended in all kinds of ways, mentally as well as physically. While we’re probably most used to seeing people avoid physical effort, the same tendencies apply to mental work as well.We will avoid it whenever possible.
This is because mental work is hard. Anyone who’s tried to understand Stephen Hawking knows this. But even thinking about things more mundane than the vastness of the universe takes its toll.
Thinking hard is one reason couples fight during home construction and remodeling projects; the stress of making the innumerable important decisions weakens their mental capacity to tolerate each other’s imperfections.
Have you ever looked at a whole aisle of different kinds of shampoo and inwardly groaned at all the choices?
One of the ways we’ve been able to avoid mental work is to make rules. We have to think hard about some things to reach a decision and come up with the best possible course of action. We don’t want to do that every time so we develop a rule. The next time we’re in that situation, or a similar one, we can simply apply the rule we’ve previously developed. Easy peasy.
So after we’ve decided on a brand and formulation of shampoo we are satisfied with we make it a rule to always get that kind of shampoo and shopping is less mentally taxing.
Rules are shorthand. And so (maybe; sometimes) is religion.
My experience – so far – with religion is with rules. Religion as rules and rules as a shorthand for moral decision-making – and making religious-, rule-based decisions in the best interests of your family, community, and culture.
Individual – and feminine, just ask Ronna, or every Catholic woman who ever wanted to be a priest – sacrifice is a recurring theme.
There’s wisdom there, and I can see it, but it isn’t mine.
And so, because I don’t have religion, and in fact am intensely repelled by the way the female body and experience gets constructed and controlled in most major religions, I thought I didn’t have faith.
But I do have faith. And I’ll tell you how I know that.
On Friday, I did something profound, meditative and woo.
I drove to FedEx.
You know when you go to conferences or retreats or workshops with granola-crunching types (I am currently barefoot and enjoying a breakfast of granola and raisins, so I know of what I speak) those new-age police-types enforce mandatory intimacy with trust-building exercises?
(You show up to hear about X and suddenly you’re threading string emerging from your neighbours waistband through your shirt-sleeve and out your pant leg to your next neighbour and pretending it’s fun and you’re such a good-and-transparent sport.)
(I hate that shit. Every time I sign up for a conference or a retreat I pray the leaders believe in personal privacy and organic – not forced – intimacy. My prayers almost always go unanswered.)
(Ah, faith.)
The reason that conference throwing/retreat organizing/kumbaya fascists make us do those things is because those activities are ice-breakers. Those things crack you open so the learning they’re about to throw down has somewhere to pool. Those things create a shared emotional experience and intimacy – and community – emerges from that shared emotional experience.
(Dave Doolin told me so. He doesn’t only teach me how to blog.)
So trust-building exercises…build trust and create intimacy.
And I wanted to get intimate with the universe. And myself.
(oh, so many ways to read that last bit.)
So I drove to Fedex.
There’s a backstory. Of course.
I was in Richmond (a suburb of Vancouver) checking in with a supplier, and after that I needed to go to FedEx, which, conveniently is located at the airport in Richmond.
Less conveniently: I don’t know my left hand from my right (unless I wear huge and wildly fake rings on my left hand, which is what I do most days), can’t tell time on an analog clock, and navigate by landmarks (you know the yellow church with white fence? Not there – turn at the next street just past the boxwood hedge) and mountains and the ocean.
If I’m driving towards the North Shore mountains, then I’m (perhaps obviously) driving north. If I’m driving towards Mt Baker, and it is the only mountain on the horizon, then I’m driving South. Whatever side the ocean is on is west. Abbotsford is almost always east and almost always a mistake.
Street names elude me. Maps confound me. Ask for directions? NEVAH.
And Richmond? Richmond’s landscape is flat, open, and devoid of good landmarks – except the airport – and mountains. Richmond’s roads, on the other hand, are as clotted, clenched and tragic as a failing heart. Always.
I worked in Richmond for almost two years and still, all I know how to do in Richmond is get to my former office, the bank, Amanda Farough’s house, the coffee shop, Ikea and the airport. Basically if you spin me around twice in Richmond and I don’t land somewhere Swedish for common sense or a hangar, then I don’t know I am.
And on Friday I was in a unknown neighbourhood in Richmond (which is basically every neighbourhood in Richmond except that of my former office) and had to get to FedEx by some unknown route (which is every route in Richmond that doesn’t lead to the highway home).
Now I’ve been to FedEx many a time, because when one is in the proposal writing business one gets pretty intimate with courier offices, especially at 4.52 pm on the day before the damn thing is due. And FedEx is at the airport, which is a pretty significant landmark, usually well-marked by big green signs and purple and orange planes (I would like to thank FedEx for the large purple and orange planes parked beside their building. That was a super helpful clue). So I decided to trust in my tax paying money at work (good road signage), my ocean-based sense of direction (it was on my left – you know, the hand with the ring), work with my profound aversion to asking for directions, and intuit my way there.
And I did it and it was an unabashedly woot woot experience.
It was a beautiful sunny day, I took my time, trusted my instincts, trusted my basic experience and knowledge of the way the world (aka “Richmond”) is plotted, and felt my way to FedEx.
And that was my simple, satisfying trust-building exercise with the universe and me.
I’ve written before about how this year at New Years I didn’t set SMART goals, nor did I break them down into milestones and plot out my path. Instead, I conceived of my goal as my mountain.
I can see my mountain. It rises above the houses, the city, the hills. It is off there in the distance but so large I can almost touch it. So large and so close that I can see it from everywhere I am. I believe – I know – that if I walk towards it long enough, eventually I’ll turn around and find I’ve climbed halfway up.
So this trust-building exercise I did with the universe – and myself – is like my mountain. I believe that if I keep my eyes trained where I want to go and trust in my general knowledge, intelligence, experience, talent, work ethic, judgment, and friends, then I have everything I need for the journey.
I have faith that the universe is both chaotic – but not malevolently so – and fairly orderly and is not going to swallow me up while I’m on my way. Or if it does, it isn’t personal. And I still have everything I need to get back on my way.
So this little woo-woo trust building exercise that looked like a drive to FedEx was about talking to my soul and saying it’s okay when you don’t know what the streets and landmarks look like, because you just keep your eye on that mountain – or the building beside the purple and orange jets – and you’ll get there.
It was about faith. In myself and in the universe.
And of course ‘the universe’ is just my hippy-dippy way of saying God.
——————————–
This piece is part 2 of the answer to ’stuck’ – which is where I’ve been, business-wise, for the last several weeks. If you want to follow the series – and hopefully, get unstuck with me – here’s where to start:
the question I ask myself (wherein I wonder WTF is wrong with me)How to Get Unstuck, Part 1: There Is No Stuck (wherein I decide nothing is wrong with me and that creativity requires rest. Holy newsflash.)
You go, Kelly.
You write about faith in a way I recognize. YOU give me faith. Thank you.
[Reply]
kellydiels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:42 am
@Lindsey, omgoodness, Lindsey. no words, except thank you.
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“kumbaya fascists”
I love that crap. Last time I did one of the “eye-gazing” hoohas I watched this woman’s pupils dilate and contract. It was great because we don’t like each other. Some sort of testosterone thing. Or maybe her phd in psych clashes with mine in engineering. Or maybe because she could just sense I wasn’t taking it (and her) “seriously enough.” Who knows? Who cares.
Downshift. Accelerate.
[Reply]
Kelly
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:40 am
@Dave Doolin, I hate all corporate games and all corporate forced fun. It is never fun, not even a night out having drinks with “the gang”. It all feels forced. Blah…
[Reply]
kellydiels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:45 am
@Kelly, I’ve said that before…when I HAVE to spend time with people during the day, PLEASE do not think I’m going to give them my evenings (and weekends) too. Unless I want to. Then it is ON.
[Reply]
kellydiels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:44 am
@Dave Doolin, I’m writing (and driving) as fast as I can. It isn’t working. I want to enjoy the ride a little more. When it is all blurry, I feel all blurry too.
Also, I want passengers to talk to. (IRL and everything!) Maybe even a co-pilot.
[Reply]
Dave Doolin
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:57 am
@kellydiels, I suddenly understand “escape velocity.”
Even when we’re blurry, we’re still here, never fear.
[Reply]
kellydiels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:59 am
@Dave Doolin, escape velocity. oh, I think I like that.
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Kelly, every time you write in such a passionate voice (usually all the time), I can’t help but feel your presence in the universe. Your authenticity is this huge, beautiful force.
I’m a Catholic that’s been feeling more in tune with ‘the universe,’ and actually trusting myself and ‘the universe’ more on a day to day basis. Some of my problems with religions at times come down to issues with the organizations, not the faith or the universe.
Powerful writing Kelly, thank you for sharing
Who knew Fed Ex could be so awesome?
[Reply]
kellydiels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:47 am
@Jonathan, your comment made me make the out-loud-happy-touched noise that is somewhere between a sigh and a yelp.
My problems with religions are the same as yours: with organizations – which are human and flawed, as we are – rather than faith or the universe or God.
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I refer to “the universe” often. Funny that you talk about it here like you do.
I’ve been reading this illustrated book about chaos and complexity in the universe, and it’s pretty amazing to see how much we’ve learned about both of them. There is an order to chaos, but it’s just SO difficult to predict. I’m almost done with the book now.
[Reply]
kellydiels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:48 am
@Zachary McInchak, I’ve been talking a LOT about ‘the universe’ lately, and so I forced myself to think about it. What do I mean by ‘the universe’ – and what I mean is The Divine, The Order of Things, Life, The Cosmos. In other words, God. Turns out, I believe.
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Do you think we Pisces are just inherently trusting? I don’t worry about traditional stuff (germs, break-ins, bad guys, etc). I trust I will be ok. I have to learn to trust that I will be/am FABULOUS.
You are slaying that mountain, one FedEx stop at a time. Can’t wait to continue to watch it unfold…
[Reply]
kellydiels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 11:48 am
@Kelly, maybe it is a Pisces thing, because ‘inherently trusting’ is both my greatest strength and my most tragic flaw.
[Reply]
PicsieChick
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 12:33 pm
@kellydiels, Or a dual-sign thing? I also, (a Libra) am inherently trusting (although the world has done much to diminish this when it comes to trusting *people*).
I’ve been thinking a lot about strengths and how they are so often flaws. And, more importantly, vice-versa. Another discussion.
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Thanks for your post Kelly.
I’m sorry your prayers have gone largely unanswered regarding forced intimacy in retreat and workshop settings. I run (rather, have run) a lot of workshops over time. I respect my participants and request that they don’t do anything that feels wrong to them. Curiosity’s cool if one wants to dip their toe into the pond to test the water. I honor any resistance. It’s fine. To me forced intimacy when there is resistance is an emotional rape.
It’s really hard to trust something new if you don’t feel safe. Or if you’re being asked to thread string down your trousers (ouch!).
For whatever it’s worth, I have major faith in you. Love that you are getting some affirming reminders that the universe does too.
[Reply]
kellydiels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 12:01 pm
@Randi Buckley, Randi, Randi, Randi. How do I love thee? The list is too long to count the ways.
Thank you for being a dreamy facilitator who doesn’t frogmarch people to enlightenment. Thank you for the faith. I feel it. I treasure it. lovelovelove.
[Reply]
Thank you for that. It was sorely needed, for both of us.
I just submitted my resignation to start my own photography studio and was feeling “stuck”. I wondered if I had made a mistake and if I could get my job back. I need to have a pow-wow with myself and my “universe”. Thanks again!
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 12:15 pm
@ocbenji, as I wrote yesterday, “your desires want you back. you should totally get together.”
Give your thing a chance to show up for you.
Stuck, and resistance – I think – are ’scared’ in costume.
Mine are EXPERT cross-dressers.
[Reply]
Randi Buckley
replied:
on May 18th, 2010 at 1:02 pm
@Kelly Diels,
Good luck and fun, fun, fun @ocbenji
Congratulations on your leap. I think Kelly’s on to something: “your desires want you back. you should totally get together.”
[Reply]
My dearest Kelly,
How is it that you find the fine print on my heart, that I can’t even quite make out, and you write it as if the whole thing is yours? That’s how this feels, and it is wonderful, for if your heart and my heart have the same inscriptions, then we must share the same soul. And this is a great comfort to me.
Faith. Religion. In my experience, they are mutually exclusive. But that’s just my experience. As a recovering catholic there are certain things that will always be a part of my memory, no matter how thread-bare and musty it is, and the overwhelming feeling that the church had it wrong (for me) was a constant.
And it’s the detritus of that early exposure that stops me from calling her God. Because what I have felt of her is so much more. Intimate. Complete. Ubiquitous. Personal. Joyful. I think it would be insulting to her to call her God.
She IS, and those of us who feel her, cannot deny she is there. That is faith. The rest is just letting her voice be heard in every moment.
And you are, and you did, and I’m proud of you! (I can’t imagine myself navigating the vast flat web of Richmond on my own! Well done.)
Thank you for telling her story with us.
Hugs and butterflies,
~T~
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:12 am
@PicsieChick, Do you read Ronna Detrick (www.ronnadetrick.com)? I really think you’d like her writing.
I like your idea about sharing the same soul. Maybe souls are sheets – so much better when they’re tangled up between people.
“vast flat web of Richmond” – that’s it. Exactly.
[Reply]
Amanda
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 11:48 am
@Kelly Diels, That’s why I need to GTFO of Richmond and move to the city. So not feeling this place. So not.
[Reply]
PicsieChick
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 12:15 pm
@Kelly Diels, Oh, yes, I read Ronna! She’s amazing. I can barely get enough of her! And her latest post brought up some real emotional stuff for me….check it out.
I’m deeply honoured to be included in that tangle of soul sheets amongst this powerfilled coven of bloggesses. Whatever I read from any of you always seems written with my very veins and arteries, so real and so true and so entangled.
By the way, there’s no vast flat web up here….it’s mostly pretty streets nestled between shimmering lakes and undulating hills. I think you both might like it.
Hugs and butterflies,
~T~
[Reply]
You nailed it, Kelly. I’m just now figuring out that faith and religion are not necessarily an exclusive couple. In fact, I like faith much better without the religion aspect. And rules…..definitely a left-brained, orderly sequential invention to make the approval/disapproval process streamlined. On steroids.
God, Goddess, The Universe, Spirit. All amazingly cool.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:13 am
@Angie Cox, all amazingly cool, and intimate. That’s been my dawning realization: that faith isn’t Out There. It is right here, in me, in my daily life.
[Reply]
Here’s what I know about and experience in you:
You invite faith in others.
You invoke/evoke faith in every word you write/speak.
You embody faith in your courage, beauty, and passion.
You embolden faith in those of us who know and love you.
Faith is hardly illusive. She makes herself manifest in/through you just because…
Follow those mountains. We are following you. Faithfully.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:14 am
@Ronna, thank you so much. That means the world to me, because you know me, hug me, drink wine with me, see me and walk with me in that almost illusory realm: IRL.
[Reply]
I definitely sympathize with the jealousy of not being able to feel that kind of religious fervor that seems so much a part of certain people’s lives. The only invisible forces I’m ever sure of are the ones within myself.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:15 am
@Jillian, I marvel at the fervor and it unnerves me – but I can touch it in other places in my life. Like you, I know what I feel.
[Reply]
I am also not religious – not like I used to be. But I also believe I have faith. I have faith in people. I have faith in my environment. And I have faith in humanity. Works for me.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:17 am
@Tracy Todd, and me too. That’s big stuff, actually. I have faith in people, too – and it is growing and rooting deeper, which helps me greet each disappointment with tenderness. Very few in this world wish me harm, and most harm is incidental and accidental. And that helps.
[Reply]
I am not (and never, ever have been) religious. But I’ve always had faith!
- Faith that people are always capable of doing that right thing.
- Faith that my actions matter.
- Faith that knowledge is always better than ignorance.
etc etc…
Also, of course, faith that other people love me as much as I love them. Like I love you, dearest!
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:18 am
@Catherine Caine, ditto!
I think I’ve always had faith too – I just didn’t know what to call it.
[Reply]
Well, Kelly, you have given me hope. Today is writing day and I haven’t a clue what I want to say. Reading your post and rambling with you through it to say that the Infinite (I like that better than Universe, the Universe seems like a place, not a what)will help if I trust and just move toward my mountain was comforting.
[Reply]
PicsieChick
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 6:25 am
@Steve, The Infinite! Steve, I like that. A lot. Thank you!
Sending you some hugs and butterflies to help with your writing today,
~T~
[Reply]
Steve
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 8:04 am
@PicsieChick, Thanks! I am in short supply of both. Can never have to many hugs and butterflies!
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:20 am
@Steve, oh, I like the Infinite, too (it is especially good because I think conceptually rather than visually or spatially).
With writing, I’ve found that if I write, the subject shows up. The physical act of writing unhinges (more than unlocks) the creative door.
I hope it went well…
[Reply]
I too have had a religious experience or two while driving thru Richmond. I have uttered prayers from behind the wheel and I have cursed others to eternal damnation. I have had many moments of both tranquil and crystal clarity and peace as well as utter shame, hopelessness and torment. Flagellation from behind the wheel of my car is commonplace. (that reminds me…I need to have my ride detailed) The car, as it turns out, is a very spiritual place for me. My mobile shrine and me, we go places. Lots of times we get there. Other times we we don’t. Sometimes we get straight to our destination and other times we are delayed, re routed or stopped altogether. But there is always a lesson. Be it one of patience, Respect for ones self and others, of limits and boundaries or a lesson of freedom. People ask why I travel an hour to and from work every day. From now on I’ll answer: I travel, so that I might know my own path.
That…Or i’ll just flip ‘em the bird. I’m kinda on the fence about that at the moment.
-J
Also, Thanks muchly for encouraging me to explore related posts on your site and others by clicking thru on the blue links provided. As a ‘new’ reader it’s great to get the prequel handed to me on a little plate. Really helps to contextualize the post while turning me on to some other truly smashing work.
Cheers and stuff!
-J
[Reply]
PicsieChick
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:09 am
@John C Davies, Your reply has clarified something for me. Several times yesterday a snippet of a song popped into my head, and I really wasn’t sure why. Now I know.
~T~
oh, the song? “I don’t care if it rains or freezes, long as I’ve got my plastic Jesus, ridin’ on the dashboard of my car. Yeehaw!”
[Reply]
John C Davies
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 10:51 am
@PicsieChick, A gift for you. —–> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_F-5kpyD4cE
-J
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:22 am
@John C Davies, my darling, please start writing somewhere that I can read you every day. You can spin a yarn.
My car needs to be detailed, too. (Is ‘detailed’ fancy-man-talk for ‘cleaned’?)
[Reply]
John C Davies
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 10:48 am
@Kelly Diels, I do… everyday even. It’s just in 140 or less.;)
[Reply]
Wonderful words from a wonderful woman! I love my faith but can take or leave religion.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:23 am
@Nicki, ditto my friend. Although I do see the value of religion – it is a foundation, a touchstone. There’s a beauty and security in that – but I can do without the security. A wise friend of mine told me security is an illusion, and I think he’s right.
[Reply]
There is a “rightness” about Fed Ex and the ocean and huge, fake rings teaching about trust and faith.
I am having to impose some self-rule (scheduling) upon my life to overcome my stuckness. And it’s HARD!
Thank you, for your insights.
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:24 am
@Sanford, I think scheduling is brilliant – personal structure is a gift you give yourself.
[Reply]
Welcome to my world (and my daughter’s) of the geographically-challenged. Although I have never put the two together (brilliant, by the way), faith and “getting somewhere” have always held hands in my world. My kids know that we are never lost, but on an adventure. We have adventures at least once a week. Enjoy the ride…
[Reply]
Kelly Diels
replied:
on May 19th, 2010 at 9:25 am
@Kymeco, I DO enjoy the ride (we should probably never attempt to pilot/co-pilot together unless we have a cooler of snacks, good music, and no pressing plans…)
[Reply]
Kelly,
I think you have articulated very well where a lot of people stand on faith and religion.
I read you on a semi regular basis both here and on PB.
I suppose I have to confess to being a lurker. I love your straight forward unabashed way of speaking.
I grew up as a Catholic but early on it didn’t make sense to me and I have spent a lifetime exploring many avenues. My conclusions to date. Religion can have many benefits but they are mostly about crowd control and not really much to do with what I call Soul Building.
I think your drive to Fedex was a great example of getting out of our own way and trusting to what we already know.
Good job. I liked it!
If you happen to feel a need to visit my new site/blog please check out Caitlin’s Symphony. After I wrote it I had a feeling it would be something you would like.
Just remember-Things are not always as they seem.
[Reply]
Here’s the faith that has been growing in me: faith that everything will unfold just as it is going to whether or not I’m there to oversee it or take responsibility for it; faith that the leaves will fall whether or not the tree remembers that it is autumn, faith that other people can take care of themselves.
Thank you, as always. For your faith, for your honesty, for your courage, for your generosity.
[Reply]
Yay you’re unstuck! I love it!
Religion is a topic I’ve thought about, experienced etc…I sort of keep in mind that emotions get mixed up in a lot of people’s experience. Not to downplay people’s reality, but since I can’t get inside their heads, I just keep it in mind and kind of shrug. I’m not likely to experience what they experience and vice-versa. Well I have my own thing anyway, but don’t ask me to describe it. Faith in universal energy might do, I guess, faith in myself, and understanding of both what Jesus said and what the Buddha said.
Question: have you ever written anything on something like “What is feminine?” I noted several references to it. It’s been a huge discussion in several forums I run, and so far, nobody really can define it (neither can I). Maybe I’ll poke around.
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