for the lonely hearts
the ones wrestling with the funk, the spiral
clawing up a hill that only seems to get steeper as you climb
may these meditations be a salve
may they be love letters to those needing a hug
may they be reminders of your worth
may you recall who you are and whose you are
trying your best
with new mercies and graces abound
my broken heart to yours
maybe together we experience a new kind of wholeness
hope
today’s prayer to surrender
help me to surrender my timeline
the sequence of my plans
the ideas of who my people need to be
when i am overcome by expectations and this ticking clock
can i trust in your miracles and your majesty
that your vision is brighter, greater, wider than what i can see
when i sink in my disappointment and fear
can you remind me that against your plans for me, i am exactly where i need to be
when i feel
oh help me to find power in that ability
to experience what it means to be human
with a god who will catch me even still
a heavy heart & the light
when my heart feels stacked with lamentations, i reach for the salve of your psalms, the refuge and the mirror, i have permission once again to demand and expect revelations and proverbs that crack me, the parables can transform to new meanings once again, the good news can penetrate the spaces in me no letter no song no commandment can reach, in the beginning and till the end it is your quiet hovering spirit that lit up the dark
my prayer today
i feel vulnerable and naked when i talk about faith & god
like the utterance of god is immediately followed by a need to prove their existence
this pressure closes me up
does the opposite of what i hope
what if i cannot fail
what if risking is enough
what if pressure is an illusion
what i hope is that my presence mirrors the presence of god
that my steps and my words and my actions reflect a miracle of being
that was only possible by a love so grand and unexplainable
it transformed me into what i was made for
i continue to choose god
i lack proof
i lack evidence
i lack a satisfactory reason
yet this i know
god made me different
whole
open
hopeful
all things i felt were not a part of me when i felt apart from god
and so even when
these days i feel that my whole, my open, my hope
are fleeting and faint
and i stand a fraud
the risk is the still choosing
still believing
still expecting
i beg and i plea for god’s presence to wrap me again
god’s presence to stare right into my fears
to break my armor and my hold
to teach me once again the act of surrender and sacrifice
not from obligation but from a complete trust in abundance
to give is to believe i have enough, more than enough
to forgive is to believe i am you and you are me
to love is to believe it is the only way we will make it to tomorrow
Advent: Day 14
I really wanted to stick to my personal challenge of writing daily blogs for advent. When I missed one last week, I justified, explained it away by saying it was my sabbath. It wasn’t a trickery. It made sense in the moment, and I really liked how that explanation bloomed out of my own mishap.
However, trying to write this week has been hard. My brain feels uninspired. My heart felt uninspired. Maybe I had used up my week’s worth of inspiration creating that 11:11 album. I listened to it on Tuesday and was sobbing myself; it does work having someone cheer you on when you feel like you’re crushed in the dumps. I skipped + missed writing the last two days. I didn’t have much to say. And I already felt like my last post was being phoned in. Why? What am I trying to prove? Who am I trying to prove to? I think it becomes a bit inevitable that you feel responsible to the community that might read these posts, and I guess I didn’t want to let you down. So if some of the last posts were eh, I’m sorry. I’m trying. Why didn’t I just say, I got nothing to say…?
But today I do have something because last night I got rejected from a writing lab I really wanted to be in. I’ve been working on a screenplay for 4 years and for this Sundance fellowship, I pulled 3 all nighters to write 5 personal essays and complete the 2nd draft. That week in October, I worked from 8a-4:30pm, had rehearsal from 6-9pm, and worked on my application from 9-3am. It was hard, and it was glorious. I felt motivated. I felt like this is what my life can be full of — meaningful civic work, acting projects that are important, and creations that could change the world. I was really excited and I sent in my application. And I waited for the last two months.
Before the no, you have not been selected, I felt hope. I felt possibility. I felt excited imagining the people on the other side seeing my story and my heart. I felt excited about a future where I could have collaborators that understood how I saw the world and where I want to take this world. My waiting was full of possibility + hope. And the no came and the flood erupted. Duh. You suck. Of course, it would never happen. The sadness. The frustration. The desire to just stop working on this story because very very honestly I may just not have what it takes. I’m sad. And I’m disappointed in myself. And my mind starts to even wander into places of comparison — why does SHE always get it? why do people like THEM get these? people like me…never…
Sometimes in the waiting, you do get an answer, and it brings up feelings and beliefs. How can these answers, which we want, getting an answer, be more helpful than harmful?
Maybe it’s a sign to take a break. Maybe it is a sign to stop altogether.
However, this I know.
It’s an opportunity to embrace the feelings and question the harmful beliefs that come up.
It’s an opportunity to invite the right people into this heartache or tough moment.
It’s an opportunity to reevaluate the deep deep goal. For me, I wanted the validation that I am good enough of a writer and I wanted a community to collaborate together with.
Every answer in this lifetime of waiting is an opportunity to witness what comes up, what we care about in this world, and who we can share. We can’t do this alone. We can’t. We are made for community.
Advent: Day 11
The faith of possibility and fulfillment walks hand in hand with the risk of disappointment. The taste of disappointment reveals what our heart wants. What our heart longs for gives way to the the potential of promises coming true. And like that, we are back at the beginning. We all experience this cycle of hope, lack, and hopefully deeper awareness of self. When the unnecessary fall away and we get to heart of what we really need and want, it expands our terrain of hope. Maybe, it’s not that we dream too big, but that we dream too small because we forget our own capacity to hold. Maybe we have to dream bigger. Maybe we have to realize, our hunger is deep and that makes us even more attentive and active.
Don’t settle.
Want more. Hope for more. Pray for more.
Dare to feel the lack which leads to that magical moment of satisfaction.
Advent: Day 10
Today’s waiting feels heavy and unfair.
Today’s waiting entices me to compare my life with others.
Today’s waiting makes me want to eat my feelings so I can get to tomorrow and hope IT HAS ARRIVED.
Today’s waiting is really forcing me to be present in each moment.
Today’s waiting made me sensitive to the arrival of the most meaningful gifts that I might not have fully felt if I wasn’t in this present state.
Today’s waiting reminds me that I can rest in my waiting.
Today’s waiting reminds me that maybe this right now is part of what’s to come. It’s already here. I’m sensitive. I’m expectant. I’m hopeful. And it’s all about the ways to build up that hope.
Advent: Day 9
I emailed on Wednesday. No response. I followed up on Friday. No response. I gave them the weekend and this morning I sent another email, this time with extra vulnerable & heart sauce. Very soon after I got a response in the vein of, these things take time, we haven’t forgotten about you. My immediate reflexive response was, ugh my fault! Sorry!!
But no! One, why didn’t you respond with that to my first and second email? I just wanted to know that you heard me, that you saw my ask. Two, why did I feel like I did something wrong when I was the one with a very reasonable request? Pushing back, standing up for yourself, advocating for your needs feel uncomfortable in a body that has been comfortable with being walked all over. Three, maybe I could have started with the vulnerable and heart space from the beginning, rather than the business/professional tone people around me suggested I use? Where is the sweet spot of integrity, self-advocacy, self-worth and vulnerability? It requires giving the recipient the benefit of the doubt and a deep certainty in one’s own worth.
As I wait for this response or for god, or for my life is change, or for some magic or miracle to bloom, I have to remember that I am worthy to receive, worthy to want, worthy just as I am to have a life that is full. I also have to remember that god is good. God is not forgetful. God didn’t miss your email. God isn’t feeling awkward that you’re asking again and again and again. God is not dangling possibilities in front of us just to taunt us.
God can handle our push, our vulnerability, our belief that we are worthy. God needs us to be all that and do all that. Waiting is exhausting because it requires me to believe it can happen, it will happen, and god has NOT forgotten about me.
Where can you demand a response from God, even if it’s a not yet, or keep on, especially if it’s this?
Where do you need to advocate for yourself as a practice of self-worth?
Where can you sprinkle in vulnerability and heart in your professional and difficult relationships?
Advent: Day 8
To you who might be…
waiting and eager to make a move, and don’t know what to do
exhausted
excited for the new season and ready, really ready for the next season
joyful and full and want even more
on the edge of faith, a step from throwing in the towel or rediscovering god again
ready to let the wonder and joy take over even though you’ve lost the practice of it
scared and barely remembering to take a moment at a time
ready to own your strength, even if it means you’re the first person to do it
hopeful
ready
waiting —
Here is an album of love, of cheer, of affirmation, of encouragement, of togetherness.
Advent: Day 7
Just now I realized that I forgot to write yesterday. My stomach sank as I pulled out my phone to do this post on the train. My daily challenge to write every day during advent is imperfect and incomplete.
But who else is keeping track? Is there someone judging me? Yes, I wish I had written yesterday, but what does a hiccup afford me? A reminder to give myself grace. A reminder that imperfect and incomplete are fine, and if I want I can simply get back on task. A reminder that maybe imperfect and incomplete is the closest we will get to wholeness. It’s the attempt at it. It’s the working at it. It’s the laughing and crying I’m trying at it.
You can’t wait perfectly. Sometimes other things in life steer you off course or pull your focus. Those moments give us an opportunity to reevaluate — is the pivot worthwhile to pursue or is the original Hope still the main thing? Waiting is not stagnant. It’s not laying down to sleep hoping things will fall from the sky. It can allow for tasks and inspirations not originally thought of when you started the journey. Waiting can also have it’s sabbath. Maybe that’s what I allowed for myself yesterday.
Where can you forgive yourself for falling short, or where can you realize you actually have not fallen short, and simply have done your best?
Where can you be more imperfect and incomplete because that requires more faith and curiosity?
Be imperfect. Just start. Just continue. Meet you at the finish line.
Are you there God? 