You got me this morning, Jocelynn- full tears. Your faith is rich and beautiful because of the way you bow to the mystery, because you intrinsically know that belief and uncertainty are not mutually exclusive. The shedding of religious baggage has been a real journey for me, and a continuing one, but it's one I have walked with my angels and my God, which is to say that they were never bound up in one another. Thank you, thank you for this beautiful essay- I truly needed it today. xoxo
full tears! I love that Kendall. Thank you for such a sacred blessing. ❤️ this is so gorgeous and that you said it about me, that you see this in me, what an incredible gift. "because of the way you bow to the mystery, because you intrinsically know that belief and uncertainty are not mutually exclusive." I love that your God and angels are not bound up in one another. I am moved by your words and by how much I wasn't sure what to write this morning at 6 am, how I asked for that help and thought I didn't really get an answer except the usual, "everything is okay" (lol) but then this whole essay came out. So there's my/our answer. ❤️❤️❤️
This is beautiful, Jocelyn. So much wisdom here, and gorgeous writing. I have for a long time identified as an atheist recovering from my Catholic childhood, but in November I finally got the courage to visit a neighborhood church I've long been curious about and interested in because of the work they do in our community and the messages of wide inclusion they post on their reader board. As soon as I walked in, it felt so right. And it feels so weird! Those who know me are astonished when I tell them I've been going to church. I completely understand why it feels scary to say that you believe in God and angels and praying when you are not a church or religion person. Me too! But as you say, it will be OK. 💚 Isn't life funny and strange and beautiful?
Oh Rita, I fell so seen and loved by you. this made me all teary. You went to church and it felt so right! Oh that made my heart so happy. And I love that you can also say it feels weird. After I hit publish, I was nervous. So thank you thank you for this lovely reply. Life really is strange and beautiful and funny. I'm always surprised by how strange it is to be human. How much there is to learn and accept. I have been thinking about trying a church here in Austin, but words like worship get in my way. I did just find something called Sunday Assembly that I might check out. What I would most love is a group of people who love all the people all the animals and who want to talk about god (whatever that looks like). You may have inspired me to go try some things out! xoxox
I think your ideal church is the one I've been going to. I had coffee with the pastor because I've been feeling a little bit like I'm there under false pretenses, but I think it's pretty much a group of people who love all the people and animals and want to do good things for them. And god is love in action. I hope you find one like it in Austin. Mine is in my neighborhood, or I never would have.
This reminds me of your post (yesterday I think) about loneliness and aloneness and how it's all part and parcel of being human. I think we struggle so hard because we're told in so many ways by our culture that there's an easy way if we just do this or buy that or become something else, but I'm coming to believe there isn't anywhere to go or be or get to, it's just the process of being present to how funny and strange and wonderous this all is.
(as an aside, it reminds me of Elizabeth Gilbert in many ways, and in spirit anyway, of Rebecca Solnit's insistence on hope, and the way that she defines it, as "hope in the dark")
Well, I think it's all about the paragraph before this quote, really, because I feel my resistance to the idea that believing everything will be okay is an act of resistance, and yet...
My something bigger comes from what I've come to learn from studying sociology--the fact of our interconnectedness--but sometimes, I admit, it's hard to walk into that classroom and call up the reserves to make an energetic case to a room full of exhausted 19 year olds, that everything will be okay. But also, I know that still trying to change the world even when things are decidedly not okay, is really what you are talking about, no? That we get up and do it anyway, even with all the things. L.A. is burning, but still, me using my blinker is an act of caregiving (ala Ross Gay's Delight #47, The Sanctity of Trains), and really, caring for strangers can be argued to be an act of resistance in a society that encourages us to bootstrap and all that...or for that matter, getting behind the wheel again after someone drove into the rear end of my car at something like 90 mph is believing everything will be okay...so I suppose that's what I was thinking :)
Interesting response, Monica! I also thought of Elizabeth Gilbert and her Higher Voice of Unconditional Love when I read Jocelyn's piece. I am a big fan of Solnit and liked that she defines it as "hope in the dark." I get the resistance to thinking "everything will be okay," because we don't want to give up on trying to change what needs changing. But I think we can be accepting of what IS and what comes and still be working for change.
Yes! I read this after I wrote my response. The acceptance part of what IS and then still deciding to work for the change we want. In spite of all of it. Because I want to live in a world where people see the horror and still also see the beauty.
thank you for this, Monica! I cannot imagine teaching teenagers. That takes a level of energy and commitment and resilience I'm not sure I have. And it would be so hard to face those young people with an "Everything's okay!" attitude and that's not really what I'm saying. And yes, this, "trying to change the world even when things are decidedly not okay, is really what you are talking about" is a part of what I'm talking about. I'm working this out here as I write, so bear with me. :) It's also this idea that resistance of the exact thing that IS only gets us more of that thing. Right, so if we're fighting hate with anger and rage, then it's all just anger and rage. So, I love how you say caring for strangers can be an act of resistance because we live in a culture that is currently celebrating divisiveness and otherness. YES! the mere act of believing that everything is, can, will be, okay is the resistance to paralysis and fear and it allows me to be able to, like you said, do my part to be the change.
For me the biggest change here on earth would be that all people are safe to be who they are and have access to more than just basic needs. And I believe that we create what we believe in, so if I am angry and feeling like there is no solution and everything is going to shit, which it is, fully, right now, I cannot be the change in that moment. I become part of the energy that is the opposite of what I want.
So this is a practice for me. A hard one. But it also allows me to experience joy and play, which I believe is so vital for us. It's like the idea of acceptance, I don't condone, but I accept what is and then I get to choose to believe that it's all okay anyway. It's owning the only power I feel like I have right now, how I think and feel about all of this. The new administration is not going to ruin my life any further by also dictating how I feel.
Jocelyn, you've done it again, you've written another beautiful essay where you quite literally bare your soul to us. Thank you for letting us in! I felt everything along with you, and I teared up when I got to your meaningful encounter with the priest (and I've been disenfranchised from religion for years). It seemed to serve a purpose for you just when you needed it.
I understand your reticence to share your beliefs, not wanting to be associated with the tyranny, such as the oppression of women, that often accompanies organized religion. I was heavily involved with our synagogue when my kids were young, wanting them to grow up within a Jewish community, but I made sure to tell everyone that it was very reform, with music, guitars, a rabbi that performed gay marriages, where women could read Torah and have leadership positions (the current rabbi is a woman). See, I'm doing it now still, even though I rarely attend any longer. Everything will be okay, it has to be!
Thank you, Tracey for helping create a space where I feel safe to let you all in! ❤️ I love that you felt everything along with me. You know that means a lot. Thank you for sharing your own experience of justifying or explaining your own church. That's exactly how I feel! Like if I say God, I really need to clarify what I mean and what I don't mean. It's such a hard subject to talk about and explain even if we didn't have so much trauma and social pressure about religion and God. I'm also glad you explained your church, because it makes me so happy to hear about churches that are inclusive. xoxoxo
"But religion is not God"...I dare say this too. Because each one of us feels it/him/her? in our own way. I also pray. All the time in many different forms. On my yoga mat. Off. Looking up to the moon, as I did just moments ago. Perhaps unexplainable to anyone, not even myself. Gosh, I don't know who I am praying to. (I don't even believe to know how to pray.) Perhaps I am praying to that inner voice within me that says over and over again, "It is okay. You will be okay. He will be okay. Everything, and I mean everything, my love, will be okay."
Perhaps I am God and you are God. Many may not agree. Many may not understand. Is this a sin? I don't know this either. So my beliefs are also often left unspoken. But if I do believe that God is me and God is you, I also believe that our God is nonjudgmental. And so I know that saying this, it is okay. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story. Wishing you a love filled continuation. xo
Danni, all of this. ❤️ I love that you dare say it too. I feel so seen by you with your words here. Yes! "On my yoga mat. Off. Looking up to the moon, as I did just moments ago." and it isn't explainable is it? not even to myself sometimes. the knowing I have of something else big, so big I can't really imagine it. And also yes to this, "Gosh, I don't know who I am praying to. (I don't even believe to know how to pray.)" You made me think of something: when I was a kid and with so much organized religion prayer is always an asking: for something to change, to get better, to end, to begin. But so much of what I call prayer is thanking or just being or amazement and in wonder at nature or the beauty of humans.
And yes to this! "I am God and you are God." yep that's it too. I think we're all little pieces of God, or have little God pieces within us and that we are also God seeing herself/ourselves when we see each other. I am so so glad you said all this .Thank you so much. ❤️❤️❤️✨
I love this space bc it offers this possibility to encounter people like you in such an authentic way and really connect. It is so much different than other (social media) platforms which leave this craving in me. I add another thing to this idea of God. It feels as if this exchange btwn us is God sent, Godlike. So sacred. So precious. So filled with honesty, curiosity, and respect. Loving. Love. Isn’t this what our God desires most? Us to love one another and this world. And yes, with this my praying too strays from the traditional idea: ' ...so much of what I call prayer is thanking or just being or amazement and in wonder at nature or the beauty of humans.' Me too. I love this. Thank you ❤️
Yes yes yes! This, "It feels as if this exchange btwn us is God sent, Godlike. So sacred. So precious." oh that just filled me up. I really did get a prayer answered today in the biggest way. This conversation with you is such a huge gift. To feel so connected and seen and safe. yes that is exactly what god wants for us. You are so welcome, thank you right back for being here and sharing yourself with me in this space. ❤️❤️❤️
Jocelyn, this vulnerably written piece has really touched me, more than you know, I am touched, and I needed to read it. I could not stop thinking as I read about a loved one of mine who is the same position you were in when you had $108 in the bank and walked out of a marriage with someone you had known or been with for several decades. That is this loved one’s story in so many ways, and I am struggling to understand the why of it and where it will lead, and if everything will be ok, but I desperately need it to be ok for him. I want to fix it, or give advice, or ask ridiculous questions about things that basically are none of my business. I pray for this dear one, I beg God to make sure he is ok, and I try to trust, and I am a woman of faith who is in church every single Sunday, and I faithfully read my Bible nearly everyday, but the walk of faith is a hard one because, well, it takes faith. Imagine that? Your story gives me hope and it comforts me and it reminds me that there are times when we must walk away and it makes no sense to the rest of the world, but in the end it is, it was, the best thing to do, and in the end, everything is ok. Somehow we are held by a power beyond ourselves, and we make it. Hugs to you. Thank you again for this beautiful story.
Sally, "because, well, it takes faith." that made me smile and chuckle. I'm sending so much love and support to you and your friend. No one understood why I left either. Everyone I knew tried to talk me into going back. It was so hard but I just knew I needed to leave. Who knows why your friend left, but he knew he needed to. And like you said, we have to trust and have faith that he knows.
What is that saying? God is with us wherever there is suffering? I believe this and I believe that God is with us no matter what. Good, bad, right decision, wrong decision, I think it all comes down to love. And love without condition. And I think for your friend, your prayers and your love and concern are what he needs more than anything.
I'm am so so glad my story gave you some comfort. I think you've probably read it here, but my ex and I are now friends. We've been able to say things to each other we could never say when married and it's been beautiful. And while it was terrible, it was also okay.xoxoxo
This is so lovely, Jocelyn! I am happy you took a leap and shared this. I resonate with different aspects of many of the comments here! The comfort of traditions Rita mentioned, the interconnectedness Monica mentioned, and the Reform Judaism experience Tracey describes. Anglican music hard wired me and the church I grew up in was an anchor of community and family. When organized religion disappointed me later (because of the humans in charge and the bent of the prayers) the music itself became my spiritual connection to something bigger than me. Now I am married into a Jewish family and we are part of a progressive reform congregation in varying capacities. I am there to connect with other folks in community. I am not there for the prayers but for the people praying. I realize I can be in a religious community where god and religion are verbs verb instead of destinations or grand prizes and then it isn’t so much a matter if believing or arriving, it is about showing up for others.
As I age, the joy and the fragility and the precious nature of that interconnectedness seems to be where my focus is, and if I show up from a loving space, I don’t need a label or a name for it. I just need to know I can face myself in the mirror every day. It has been a weird journey for someone who thought she might be a priest!
Emily, you've connected all the experiences and comments in such a beautiful way. And this, "I am not there for the prayers but for the people praying." That brought tears to my eyes. And then the whole next sentence and esp this, "god and religion are verbs verb instead of destinations". my heart is so full with those words. And that is what I want from a church. You've helped me see that maybe I can be more open with my own definition of what church might be for me. and this, "if I show up from a loving space, I don’t need a label or a name for it. " ooooooo, you might have been a priest! Oh wow. I can see how you would bring so much nuance, so much light to any service and room full of people needing guidance and love. Do you ever still consider it? I LOVE knowing this about you! If I had another lifetime, I would study religions. thank you so much for this, Emily. xoxoxo
Thank you, Jocelyn. What you wrote was do vulnerable and tender and I just shared my experience in response. And tbe priest thing was ling long ago, before I realized I was not into the idea of religion but instead into the idea of connection. And after a priest hitting me and others turned out to be not at all what they should have been. In my early life, church had offered community and support during a difficult time in my family and it brought my family joy when I thought we’d never feel it again. I will always be grateful for that. That is what I thought the priesthood was. Over time, I didn’t feel as much at home in organized church or religion for lots of reasons- we have to chat over the fire at camp?! And now, married into a Jewish family, I don’t practice Christianity at all, and as for my family, they are more culturally Jewish and invested in the intellectual community while I am involved with community building efforts. I enjoy getting to sing at services, but more for the singing than the words I cannot say and mean. I am happily almost pagan, or something. So, my time in the comments and putting intentional words down at WITD and in the spaces I love, like yours, feels like the kind of prayer I want to practice. Thanks for this fascinating conversation!
Isn't it though? And not just unseen, right, but felt and experienced, but not in a way that's always tangible or explainable in words. Amy Brown quoted Mark Nepo in her essay today as talking about - and I am paraphrasing greatly here - the knowing that's beneath the words and the music, the sacred silence that runs underneath everything.
Love and truth shine from this essay. Thank you for it. I am an Episcopal priest, so very affiliated with organized religion, but I understand how frequently and shamefully religious traditions betray their own most important tenets.
There was a nun in the 13th century in Norwich, England named Julian. She was an anchoress, living in a tiny addition to the church there, praying all the time and offering counsel to those who came to her through a small window. She chose that life, amazingly! She wrote down the list revelations God gave her in a book called The Showings. Here's why I thought of her when I read your piece: God said to her:
"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."
Oh thank you for saying that. This essay felt very tender and true and vulnerable to me. I love how you spoke of the betrayal of tenets. It's so true.
And yes! Another wonderful friend here told me about her several months ago, and yet I had forgotten. I think this is a sign to go read her revelations. I'm so grateful for this reminder. Yay! I love how that happens.
And the quote you shared. Just perfect for these times. Thank you so much and blessings of peace and joy to you too!! What a wonderful blessing to receive. ❤️❤️❤️
I started to read this last week. I was at work and I thought I’ll be ok I won’t cry. Well I was wrong. So I stopped and saved it for a time I was home and safe and alone. I remember this time. You had come to visit me in Boise and we had a wonderful week together. I hadn’t started doing my work yet and neither had you. I noticed you were not right. Broken kind of; I couldn’t put my finger on it. I pushed it away because at the time I too was broken and acknowledging that someone else was struggling (and it being my best friend) was too scary and paralyzing. I can’t imagine how alone you must have felt. This writing made me cry, sob, and rejoice all at once for you.How brave you were during that time. How hard you worked to find and love yourself. I love that you know God and you pray and you can say it. I feel the same way and don’t say it. Maybe it’s time for us all to acknowledge the power and healing and connection this will bring. I love you Joc and am so inspired by you every day 🙌💓🙏🏼
"It'll be okay, I won't cry." 🤣❤️ Oh sweetie, this is so beautiful. We were both managing to get through the day, the month, life, without any tools. I'm so glad we had each other, even when we didn't know how to help. You said that so well, I know we noticed it in each other over the years, but just had no idea what to do about it. I am so moved by your compassion for that former me. Thank you so much. I feel so seen and loved. And I think acknowledging and embracing how and what we feel about whatever the force is that is bigger than us is so huge and vital. I love you too babe. You inspire me with everything you are doing right now! xoxox
Support that comes in all forms and shapes and colors. I love this. I try to imagine, to get out of my head and just imagine that even the terrible things are necessary in some way. Elizabeth Gilbert said in one of her Letters from Love posts recently that once, long ago, in the depths of pain she was praying for help and then realized she needed to ask for more, to be brought even further into her own pain and darkness (I paraphrase here) to get through to the light. I try and imagine all of us humans in that place in our evolution. That we must get even further into our own darkness before we can start to climb back to the light.
Your post reminded me of experiences that involved my dog…I just wrote a note about it. Thank you…it feels we are weaving a many-colored tapestry of stories with thousands of strong threads.
I just read this poem over on Elena Brower's Substack and it felt so right to share it here, because I think in this case we can substitute "love" for "God," "higher power," etc:
How We Are Held
When my arms were the most empty,
when my hands were unable to hold anything
and I was most unselved,
that was when I felt the most gathered up
by love. An immeasurable and wildly precise love.
Even when I wanted to push love away.
Even when I felt too broken to be found.
I felt love gather all my pieces.
Not to fix them.
Not to put them back together.
Love simply held every shattered thought
and every ruined dream and cradled me
just as I was. Not because I deserved it.
Just because that is what love does.
I am learning to trust this feeling of belonging
to the world, broken as it is, broken as I am,
learning to trust I need not do a thing to belong.
I do not know how it all works
or why I was able to receive it.
But I can’t unknow this unfathomable truth:
how love holds us when we cannot
hold anything, gentle as silence,
fierce as a flood, true as the breaking itself.
The way the ocean forever holds every wave.
The way the shore forever changes to hold the ocean.
Amy this. Thank you thank you. yes. I realized reading this that I wanted to use the word love in place of God in my piece. But I used the word God, because it felt important to me not to feel ashamed to use it, to be worried about what people would think, although I was both. I often use love or universe in place of God because it feels safer.
Jocelyn, I am so moved by what you write here. This is is so beautifully honest, searching, vulnerable and STRONG, which is all of your qualities, too, so of course your writing would reflect that. There is so much I relate to in what you share, above all the decision to leave a long marriage, that "terrible rending" as you so aptly described it, even when you want it and nobody understands and few support the decision. I did have support and understanding when I left my marriage which helped but it was a loss just the same and for a long time I felt like I wasn't allowed to grieve the loss I had engineered myself. Now I know it's okay. As you say, "It's all okay. Everything will be okay." I am so glad you have spoken aloud your belief in God, angels and prayer. I believe in God, too, and angels and sometimes prayer, although I think of my writing as a form of prayer and meditation. That's the closest I get to a conversation with God. I agree with all of what you say on how organized religion has been weaponized and how we fear people can assume certain things about us if we say we believe in God or pray. I am quite open about the concept of God. I like the idea of a higher power, a Great Goddess, a voice of Love within myself, greater and wiser than my mere mortal self, but always there to reassure me, "It's all going to be okay." I have come late in life to a more spiritual life. Raised Jewish, nominally, with some observation of the major holidays, my ex was an atheist and so my daughters learned and came to appreciate the Jewish traditions and also the secular aspects of the Swedish Lutheran traditions like celebrating Christmas and Easter. But in my early 60s I came to feel a great hunger for more spiritual exploration and I have found it in poets and wise spiritual guides like Mark Nepo and his The Book of Awakening (can't recommend that enough as my daily "bible") and the poets David Whyte, John O'Donohue and Mary Oliver among others. Thank you so much for writing such a beautiful and thought provoking essay. And may I say that photo of you praying on the beach is so very beautiful? I could see it in a full page photo in a national magazine, you radiate such calm in that pose.
Amy! I forgot to say something about this lovely comment, "And may I say that photo of you praying on the beach is so very beautiful? I could see it in a full page photo in a national magazine, you radiate such calm in that pose." that is so beautiful to say. Thank you. thank you. xoxoxo
Oh yes, Amy this is so true and big, " I felt like I wasn't allowed to grieve the loss I had engineered myself. " it was the same for me too. Especially bc I felt so much shame and guilt for leaving, for being the bad person.
I love this too, " like the idea of a higher power, a Great Goddess, a voice of Love within myself, greater and wiser than my mere mortal self, but always there to reassure me, "It's all going to be okay." yes yes yes. They overlap for me, but are also separate, and maybe that's just my human brain, maybe it is all versions of the same entity/source.
I love knowing more about your spiritual journey and what your children experienced. I too have that great hunger! Yoga and meditation started me down that path in my years in Costa Rica and then I did my teacher training several years ago now and I am deep into the spiritual path of yoga, which isn't so different from any other teachings, be kind, don't harm, find peace. :)
and yes yes yes! to all those authors. My therapist gifted me Mark Nepo's book a few years ago and your writing about it in your post and here has got me pulling it off the shelf. It was my bible too, for about three years. I also love Gregory Boyle? Do you know his writing and work? An incredible human. That man is Love. I don't know David Whyte, I'll have to find his works. I found so much solace in Anne Lamott too, when I was in the first few years of grieving the loss of my marriage. She was probably the one who made me consider saying I believed in God. I mean if Anne does, than surely I can. ;)
Jocelyn, thank you for this thoughtful response. I am glad we're aligned on these ideas, and it doesn't surprise me that we are. Do you know the work of Imola who writes the Art of Lite Living and is in WITD? She is a yoga teacher and I'd think you'd like her work and philosophy. She recently wrote about how she encourages her students not to "do" yoga but to "be" yoga and when I was intrigued by that in one of our exchanges, she chose to write about it on her Substack. I love doing yoga and as we may have shared I love Costa Rica, too, and always dreamed of living there, I've been there 4 times. I have heard of Gregory Boyle but would like to read more of his work. Another one of my Substack friends, Allison Deraney, recently recommend Richard Rohr's Falling Upwards, so that's the newest addition to my spiritual library. I also recommend highly David Whyte's book of essays on the deeper meanings of everyday words, called Consolations. He just published a second Consolations exploring new words. These essays are rich, deep--transcendent. For writers and word lovers like us, I know you will appreciate it. And if I may, one more book for your library: John O' Donohue's Book of Blessings, he is the late great Irish poet.
You got me this morning, Jocelynn- full tears. Your faith is rich and beautiful because of the way you bow to the mystery, because you intrinsically know that belief and uncertainty are not mutually exclusive. The shedding of religious baggage has been a real journey for me, and a continuing one, but it's one I have walked with my angels and my God, which is to say that they were never bound up in one another. Thank you, thank you for this beautiful essay- I truly needed it today. xoxo
full tears! I love that Kendall. Thank you for such a sacred blessing. ❤️ this is so gorgeous and that you said it about me, that you see this in me, what an incredible gift. "because of the way you bow to the mystery, because you intrinsically know that belief and uncertainty are not mutually exclusive." I love that your God and angels are not bound up in one another. I am moved by your words and by how much I wasn't sure what to write this morning at 6 am, how I asked for that help and thought I didn't really get an answer except the usual, "everything is okay" (lol) but then this whole essay came out. So there's my/our answer. ❤️❤️❤️
Lovely response, Kendall, "the way you bow to the mystery." I love this!
This is beautiful, Jocelyn. So much wisdom here, and gorgeous writing. I have for a long time identified as an atheist recovering from my Catholic childhood, but in November I finally got the courage to visit a neighborhood church I've long been curious about and interested in because of the work they do in our community and the messages of wide inclusion they post on their reader board. As soon as I walked in, it felt so right. And it feels so weird! Those who know me are astonished when I tell them I've been going to church. I completely understand why it feels scary to say that you believe in God and angels and praying when you are not a church or religion person. Me too! But as you say, it will be OK. 💚 Isn't life funny and strange and beautiful?
Oh Rita, I fell so seen and loved by you. this made me all teary. You went to church and it felt so right! Oh that made my heart so happy. And I love that you can also say it feels weird. After I hit publish, I was nervous. So thank you thank you for this lovely reply. Life really is strange and beautiful and funny. I'm always surprised by how strange it is to be human. How much there is to learn and accept. I have been thinking about trying a church here in Austin, but words like worship get in my way. I did just find something called Sunday Assembly that I might check out. What I would most love is a group of people who love all the people all the animals and who want to talk about god (whatever that looks like). You may have inspired me to go try some things out! xoxox
I think your ideal church is the one I've been going to. I had coffee with the pastor because I've been feeling a little bit like I'm there under false pretenses, but I think it's pretty much a group of people who love all the people and animals and want to do good things for them. And god is love in action. I hope you find one like it in Austin. Mine is in my neighborhood, or I never would have.
Rita, I agree life is funny, strange and beautiful. Wouldn't have it any other way!
This reminds me of your post (yesterday I think) about loneliness and aloneness and how it's all part and parcel of being human. I think we struggle so hard because we're told in so many ways by our culture that there's an easy way if we just do this or buy that or become something else, but I'm coming to believe there isn't anywhere to go or be or get to, it's just the process of being present to how funny and strange and wonderous this all is.
Yes: “Believing that everything is and will be okay is my deepest and most powerful act of resistance.” Love this framing. Got me thinking.
Oooooh Monica, I love that it got you thinking. Tell me more when you're ready! xoxoxo
(as an aside, it reminds me of Elizabeth Gilbert in many ways, and in spirit anyway, of Rebecca Solnit's insistence on hope, and the way that she defines it, as "hope in the dark")
Well, I think it's all about the paragraph before this quote, really, because I feel my resistance to the idea that believing everything will be okay is an act of resistance, and yet...
My something bigger comes from what I've come to learn from studying sociology--the fact of our interconnectedness--but sometimes, I admit, it's hard to walk into that classroom and call up the reserves to make an energetic case to a room full of exhausted 19 year olds, that everything will be okay. But also, I know that still trying to change the world even when things are decidedly not okay, is really what you are talking about, no? That we get up and do it anyway, even with all the things. L.A. is burning, but still, me using my blinker is an act of caregiving (ala Ross Gay's Delight #47, The Sanctity of Trains), and really, caring for strangers can be argued to be an act of resistance in a society that encourages us to bootstrap and all that...or for that matter, getting behind the wheel again after someone drove into the rear end of my car at something like 90 mph is believing everything will be okay...so I suppose that's what I was thinking :)
Interesting response, Monica! I also thought of Elizabeth Gilbert and her Higher Voice of Unconditional Love when I read Jocelyn's piece. I am a big fan of Solnit and liked that she defines it as "hope in the dark." I get the resistance to thinking "everything will be okay," because we don't want to give up on trying to change what needs changing. But I think we can be accepting of what IS and what comes and still be working for change.
Yes! I read this after I wrote my response. The acceptance part of what IS and then still deciding to work for the change we want. In spite of all of it. Because I want to live in a world where people see the horror and still also see the beauty.
Oh and also I'm so honored that you both felt a bit of EG energy in this piece! How lovely! ❤️
thank you for this, Monica! I cannot imagine teaching teenagers. That takes a level of energy and commitment and resilience I'm not sure I have. And it would be so hard to face those young people with an "Everything's okay!" attitude and that's not really what I'm saying. And yes, this, "trying to change the world even when things are decidedly not okay, is really what you are talking about" is a part of what I'm talking about. I'm working this out here as I write, so bear with me. :) It's also this idea that resistance of the exact thing that IS only gets us more of that thing. Right, so if we're fighting hate with anger and rage, then it's all just anger and rage. So, I love how you say caring for strangers can be an act of resistance because we live in a culture that is currently celebrating divisiveness and otherness. YES! the mere act of believing that everything is, can, will be, okay is the resistance to paralysis and fear and it allows me to be able to, like you said, do my part to be the change.
For me the biggest change here on earth would be that all people are safe to be who they are and have access to more than just basic needs. And I believe that we create what we believe in, so if I am angry and feeling like there is no solution and everything is going to shit, which it is, fully, right now, I cannot be the change in that moment. I become part of the energy that is the opposite of what I want.
So this is a practice for me. A hard one. But it also allows me to experience joy and play, which I believe is so vital for us. It's like the idea of acceptance, I don't condone, but I accept what is and then I get to choose to believe that it's all okay anyway. It's owning the only power I feel like I have right now, how I think and feel about all of this. The new administration is not going to ruin my life any further by also dictating how I feel.
Jocelyn, you've done it again, you've written another beautiful essay where you quite literally bare your soul to us. Thank you for letting us in! I felt everything along with you, and I teared up when I got to your meaningful encounter with the priest (and I've been disenfranchised from religion for years). It seemed to serve a purpose for you just when you needed it.
I understand your reticence to share your beliefs, not wanting to be associated with the tyranny, such as the oppression of women, that often accompanies organized religion. I was heavily involved with our synagogue when my kids were young, wanting them to grow up within a Jewish community, but I made sure to tell everyone that it was very reform, with music, guitars, a rabbi that performed gay marriages, where women could read Torah and have leadership positions (the current rabbi is a woman). See, I'm doing it now still, even though I rarely attend any longer. Everything will be okay, it has to be!
Thank you, Tracey for helping create a space where I feel safe to let you all in! ❤️ I love that you felt everything along with me. You know that means a lot. Thank you for sharing your own experience of justifying or explaining your own church. That's exactly how I feel! Like if I say God, I really need to clarify what I mean and what I don't mean. It's such a hard subject to talk about and explain even if we didn't have so much trauma and social pressure about religion and God. I'm also glad you explained your church, because it makes me so happy to hear about churches that are inclusive. xoxoxo
"But religion is not God"...I dare say this too. Because each one of us feels it/him/her? in our own way. I also pray. All the time in many different forms. On my yoga mat. Off. Looking up to the moon, as I did just moments ago. Perhaps unexplainable to anyone, not even myself. Gosh, I don't know who I am praying to. (I don't even believe to know how to pray.) Perhaps I am praying to that inner voice within me that says over and over again, "It is okay. You will be okay. He will be okay. Everything, and I mean everything, my love, will be okay."
Perhaps I am God and you are God. Many may not agree. Many may not understand. Is this a sin? I don't know this either. So my beliefs are also often left unspoken. But if I do believe that God is me and God is you, I also believe that our God is nonjudgmental. And so I know that saying this, it is okay. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story. Wishing you a love filled continuation. xo
Danni, all of this. ❤️ I love that you dare say it too. I feel so seen by you with your words here. Yes! "On my yoga mat. Off. Looking up to the moon, as I did just moments ago." and it isn't explainable is it? not even to myself sometimes. the knowing I have of something else big, so big I can't really imagine it. And also yes to this, "Gosh, I don't know who I am praying to. (I don't even believe to know how to pray.)" You made me think of something: when I was a kid and with so much organized religion prayer is always an asking: for something to change, to get better, to end, to begin. But so much of what I call prayer is thanking or just being or amazement and in wonder at nature or the beauty of humans.
And yes to this! "I am God and you are God." yep that's it too. I think we're all little pieces of God, or have little God pieces within us and that we are also God seeing herself/ourselves when we see each other. I am so so glad you said all this .Thank you so much. ❤️❤️❤️✨
I love this space bc it offers this possibility to encounter people like you in such an authentic way and really connect. It is so much different than other (social media) platforms which leave this craving in me. I add another thing to this idea of God. It feels as if this exchange btwn us is God sent, Godlike. So sacred. So precious. So filled with honesty, curiosity, and respect. Loving. Love. Isn’t this what our God desires most? Us to love one another and this world. And yes, with this my praying too strays from the traditional idea: ' ...so much of what I call prayer is thanking or just being or amazement and in wonder at nature or the beauty of humans.' Me too. I love this. Thank you ❤️
Yes yes yes! This, "It feels as if this exchange btwn us is God sent, Godlike. So sacred. So precious." oh that just filled me up. I really did get a prayer answered today in the biggest way. This conversation with you is such a huge gift. To feel so connected and seen and safe. yes that is exactly what god wants for us. You are so welcome, thank you right back for being here and sharing yourself with me in this space. ❤️❤️❤️
Jocelyn, this vulnerably written piece has really touched me, more than you know, I am touched, and I needed to read it. I could not stop thinking as I read about a loved one of mine who is the same position you were in when you had $108 in the bank and walked out of a marriage with someone you had known or been with for several decades. That is this loved one’s story in so many ways, and I am struggling to understand the why of it and where it will lead, and if everything will be ok, but I desperately need it to be ok for him. I want to fix it, or give advice, or ask ridiculous questions about things that basically are none of my business. I pray for this dear one, I beg God to make sure he is ok, and I try to trust, and I am a woman of faith who is in church every single Sunday, and I faithfully read my Bible nearly everyday, but the walk of faith is a hard one because, well, it takes faith. Imagine that? Your story gives me hope and it comforts me and it reminds me that there are times when we must walk away and it makes no sense to the rest of the world, but in the end it is, it was, the best thing to do, and in the end, everything is ok. Somehow we are held by a power beyond ourselves, and we make it. Hugs to you. Thank you again for this beautiful story.
Sally, "because, well, it takes faith." that made me smile and chuckle. I'm sending so much love and support to you and your friend. No one understood why I left either. Everyone I knew tried to talk me into going back. It was so hard but I just knew I needed to leave. Who knows why your friend left, but he knew he needed to. And like you said, we have to trust and have faith that he knows.
What is that saying? God is with us wherever there is suffering? I believe this and I believe that God is with us no matter what. Good, bad, right decision, wrong decision, I think it all comes down to love. And love without condition. And I think for your friend, your prayers and your love and concern are what he needs more than anything.
I'm am so so glad my story gave you some comfort. I think you've probably read it here, but my ex and I are now friends. We've been able to say things to each other we could never say when married and it's been beautiful. And while it was terrible, it was also okay.xoxoxo
This is so lovely, Jocelyn! I am happy you took a leap and shared this. I resonate with different aspects of many of the comments here! The comfort of traditions Rita mentioned, the interconnectedness Monica mentioned, and the Reform Judaism experience Tracey describes. Anglican music hard wired me and the church I grew up in was an anchor of community and family. When organized religion disappointed me later (because of the humans in charge and the bent of the prayers) the music itself became my spiritual connection to something bigger than me. Now I am married into a Jewish family and we are part of a progressive reform congregation in varying capacities. I am there to connect with other folks in community. I am not there for the prayers but for the people praying. I realize I can be in a religious community where god and religion are verbs verb instead of destinations or grand prizes and then it isn’t so much a matter if believing or arriving, it is about showing up for others.
As I age, the joy and the fragility and the precious nature of that interconnectedness seems to be where my focus is, and if I show up from a loving space, I don’t need a label or a name for it. I just need to know I can face myself in the mirror every day. It has been a weird journey for someone who thought she might be a priest!
Emily, you've connected all the experiences and comments in such a beautiful way. And this, "I am not there for the prayers but for the people praying." That brought tears to my eyes. And then the whole next sentence and esp this, "god and religion are verbs verb instead of destinations". my heart is so full with those words. And that is what I want from a church. You've helped me see that maybe I can be more open with my own definition of what church might be for me. and this, "if I show up from a loving space, I don’t need a label or a name for it. " ooooooo, you might have been a priest! Oh wow. I can see how you would bring so much nuance, so much light to any service and room full of people needing guidance and love. Do you ever still consider it? I LOVE knowing this about you! If I had another lifetime, I would study religions. thank you so much for this, Emily. xoxoxo
Thank you, Jocelyn. What you wrote was do vulnerable and tender and I just shared my experience in response. And tbe priest thing was ling long ago, before I realized I was not into the idea of religion but instead into the idea of connection. And after a priest hitting me and others turned out to be not at all what they should have been. In my early life, church had offered community and support during a difficult time in my family and it brought my family joy when I thought we’d never feel it again. I will always be grateful for that. That is what I thought the priesthood was. Over time, I didn’t feel as much at home in organized church or religion for lots of reasons- we have to chat over the fire at camp?! And now, married into a Jewish family, I don’t practice Christianity at all, and as for my family, they are more culturally Jewish and invested in the intellectual community while I am involved with community building efforts. I enjoy getting to sing at services, but more for the singing than the words I cannot say and mean. I am happily almost pagan, or something. So, my time in the comments and putting intentional words down at WITD and in the spaces I love, like yours, feels like the kind of prayer I want to practice. Thanks for this fascinating conversation!
When it is your truth and your truth only, it is a beautiful thing to believe in and find comfort from something unseen 💜
Isn't it though? And not just unseen, right, but felt and experienced, but not in a way that's always tangible or explainable in words. Amy Brown quoted Mark Nepo in her essay today as talking about - and I am paraphrasing greatly here - the knowing that's beneath the words and the music, the sacred silence that runs underneath everything.
yessss!!! the knowing beneath all the things
I love this idea, this truth these words, that God is, "the knowing beneath all things." soooo good!
I salute your courage. ❤️
Thank you. That means a lot. ❤️
Love and truth shine from this essay. Thank you for it. I am an Episcopal priest, so very affiliated with organized religion, but I understand how frequently and shamefully religious traditions betray their own most important tenets.
There was a nun in the 13th century in Norwich, England named Julian. She was an anchoress, living in a tiny addition to the church there, praying all the time and offering counsel to those who came to her through a small window. She chose that life, amazingly! She wrote down the list revelations God gave her in a book called The Showings. Here's why I thought of her when I read your piece: God said to her:
"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."
Blessings of peace and joy to you!
Oh thank you for saying that. This essay felt very tender and true and vulnerable to me. I love how you spoke of the betrayal of tenets. It's so true.
And yes! Another wonderful friend here told me about her several months ago, and yet I had forgotten. I think this is a sign to go read her revelations. I'm so grateful for this reminder. Yay! I love how that happens.
And the quote you shared. Just perfect for these times. Thank you so much and blessings of peace and joy to you too!! What a wonderful blessing to receive. ❤️❤️❤️
I started to read this last week. I was at work and I thought I’ll be ok I won’t cry. Well I was wrong. So I stopped and saved it for a time I was home and safe and alone. I remember this time. You had come to visit me in Boise and we had a wonderful week together. I hadn’t started doing my work yet and neither had you. I noticed you were not right. Broken kind of; I couldn’t put my finger on it. I pushed it away because at the time I too was broken and acknowledging that someone else was struggling (and it being my best friend) was too scary and paralyzing. I can’t imagine how alone you must have felt. This writing made me cry, sob, and rejoice all at once for you.How brave you were during that time. How hard you worked to find and love yourself. I love that you know God and you pray and you can say it. I feel the same way and don’t say it. Maybe it’s time for us all to acknowledge the power and healing and connection this will bring. I love you Joc and am so inspired by you every day 🙌💓🙏🏼
"It'll be okay, I won't cry." 🤣❤️ Oh sweetie, this is so beautiful. We were both managing to get through the day, the month, life, without any tools. I'm so glad we had each other, even when we didn't know how to help. You said that so well, I know we noticed it in each other over the years, but just had no idea what to do about it. I am so moved by your compassion for that former me. Thank you so much. I feel so seen and loved. And I think acknowledging and embracing how and what we feel about whatever the force is that is bigger than us is so huge and vital. I love you too babe. You inspire me with everything you are doing right now! xoxox
I pray the same way as you. With the trees. This is beautiful, Jocelyn.
I love that Allison. Thank you for saying so. They are great prayer partners aren't they?
Very well penned. It *is* okay. It will continue to be ok.
Thank you for saying so. ❤️
So true, Jocelyn, are your words of ‘All will be okay.’ To pray and believe in angels and support that comes in all forms and shapes and colors.
Support that comes in all forms and shapes and colors. I love this. I try to imagine, to get out of my head and just imagine that even the terrible things are necessary in some way. Elizabeth Gilbert said in one of her Letters from Love posts recently that once, long ago, in the depths of pain she was praying for help and then realized she needed to ask for more, to be brought even further into her own pain and darkness (I paraphrase here) to get through to the light. I try and imagine all of us humans in that place in our evolution. That we must get even further into our own darkness before we can start to climb back to the light.
Your post reminded me of experiences that involved my dog…I just wrote a note about it. Thank you…it feels we are weaving a many-colored tapestry of stories with thousands of strong threads.
I just read this poem over on Elena Brower's Substack and it felt so right to share it here, because I think in this case we can substitute "love" for "God," "higher power," etc:
How We Are Held
When my arms were the most empty,
when my hands were unable to hold anything
and I was most unselved,
that was when I felt the most gathered up
by love. An immeasurable and wildly precise love.
Even when I wanted to push love away.
Even when I felt too broken to be found.
I felt love gather all my pieces.
Not to fix them.
Not to put them back together.
Love simply held every shattered thought
and every ruined dream and cradled me
just as I was. Not because I deserved it.
Just because that is what love does.
I am learning to trust this feeling of belonging
to the world, broken as it is, broken as I am,
learning to trust I need not do a thing to belong.
I do not know how it all works
or why I was able to receive it.
But I can’t unknow this unfathomable truth:
how love holds us when we cannot
hold anything, gentle as silence,
fierce as a flood, true as the breaking itself.
The way the ocean forever holds every wave.
The way the shore forever changes to hold the ocean.
—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Amy this. Thank you thank you. yes. I realized reading this that I wanted to use the word love in place of God in my piece. But I used the word God, because it felt important to me not to feel ashamed to use it, to be worried about what people would think, although I was both. I often use love or universe in place of God because it feels safer.
Jocelyn, I am so moved by what you write here. This is is so beautifully honest, searching, vulnerable and STRONG, which is all of your qualities, too, so of course your writing would reflect that. There is so much I relate to in what you share, above all the decision to leave a long marriage, that "terrible rending" as you so aptly described it, even when you want it and nobody understands and few support the decision. I did have support and understanding when I left my marriage which helped but it was a loss just the same and for a long time I felt like I wasn't allowed to grieve the loss I had engineered myself. Now I know it's okay. As you say, "It's all okay. Everything will be okay." I am so glad you have spoken aloud your belief in God, angels and prayer. I believe in God, too, and angels and sometimes prayer, although I think of my writing as a form of prayer and meditation. That's the closest I get to a conversation with God. I agree with all of what you say on how organized religion has been weaponized and how we fear people can assume certain things about us if we say we believe in God or pray. I am quite open about the concept of God. I like the idea of a higher power, a Great Goddess, a voice of Love within myself, greater and wiser than my mere mortal self, but always there to reassure me, "It's all going to be okay." I have come late in life to a more spiritual life. Raised Jewish, nominally, with some observation of the major holidays, my ex was an atheist and so my daughters learned and came to appreciate the Jewish traditions and also the secular aspects of the Swedish Lutheran traditions like celebrating Christmas and Easter. But in my early 60s I came to feel a great hunger for more spiritual exploration and I have found it in poets and wise spiritual guides like Mark Nepo and his The Book of Awakening (can't recommend that enough as my daily "bible") and the poets David Whyte, John O'Donohue and Mary Oliver among others. Thank you so much for writing such a beautiful and thought provoking essay. And may I say that photo of you praying on the beach is so very beautiful? I could see it in a full page photo in a national magazine, you radiate such calm in that pose.
Amy! I forgot to say something about this lovely comment, "And may I say that photo of you praying on the beach is so very beautiful? I could see it in a full page photo in a national magazine, you radiate such calm in that pose." that is so beautiful to say. Thank you. thank you. xoxoxo
Oh yes, Amy this is so true and big, " I felt like I wasn't allowed to grieve the loss I had engineered myself. " it was the same for me too. Especially bc I felt so much shame and guilt for leaving, for being the bad person.
I love this too, " like the idea of a higher power, a Great Goddess, a voice of Love within myself, greater and wiser than my mere mortal self, but always there to reassure me, "It's all going to be okay." yes yes yes. They overlap for me, but are also separate, and maybe that's just my human brain, maybe it is all versions of the same entity/source.
I love knowing more about your spiritual journey and what your children experienced. I too have that great hunger! Yoga and meditation started me down that path in my years in Costa Rica and then I did my teacher training several years ago now and I am deep into the spiritual path of yoga, which isn't so different from any other teachings, be kind, don't harm, find peace. :)
and yes yes yes! to all those authors. My therapist gifted me Mark Nepo's book a few years ago and your writing about it in your post and here has got me pulling it off the shelf. It was my bible too, for about three years. I also love Gregory Boyle? Do you know his writing and work? An incredible human. That man is Love. I don't know David Whyte, I'll have to find his works. I found so much solace in Anne Lamott too, when I was in the first few years of grieving the loss of my marriage. She was probably the one who made me consider saying I believed in God. I mean if Anne does, than surely I can. ;)
Jocelyn, thank you for this thoughtful response. I am glad we're aligned on these ideas, and it doesn't surprise me that we are. Do you know the work of Imola who writes the Art of Lite Living and is in WITD? She is a yoga teacher and I'd think you'd like her work and philosophy. She recently wrote about how she encourages her students not to "do" yoga but to "be" yoga and when I was intrigued by that in one of our exchanges, she chose to write about it on her Substack. I love doing yoga and as we may have shared I love Costa Rica, too, and always dreamed of living there, I've been there 4 times. I have heard of Gregory Boyle but would like to read more of his work. Another one of my Substack friends, Allison Deraney, recently recommend Richard Rohr's Falling Upwards, so that's the newest addition to my spiritual library. I also recommend highly David Whyte's book of essays on the deeper meanings of everyday words, called Consolations. He just published a second Consolations exploring new words. These essays are rich, deep--transcendent. For writers and word lovers like us, I know you will appreciate it. And if I may, one more book for your library: John O' Donohue's Book of Blessings, he is the late great Irish poet.