Lately, I have been thinking about change. This inquiry was sparked by my upcoming birthday. Like most years, I’ve spent the past few weeks and months getting rid of things and complete old projects. The idea behind this project has been an attempt to start my new year with a clean slate.
This year I’ve found that my ability to clean, complete, and let go seems thwarted at every corner for instead of ridding myself of things, I have begun collecting things. For example: a few days ago I agreed to help teach and facilitate a Dance for Parkinson’s Class, I signed up for an audition for an acting workshop, I checked out more books from the library, and I have reached out to old relations that had been dead and buried. I don’t know why I am doing these things. I only know that perhaps my resistance to this potentially new way of being might be the metaphorical problem more than the act itself.
At moments like these, I am grateful for the random signs I see on my travels. One sign in particular has been very helpful to me the past few days. Posted outside a church located on 8th and Downing, it was written: Feed your faith and your doubts will begin to starve themselves.
This statement of course sparked a series of questions along the lines of how can I begin to feed the faith that no matter what route or form my life takes I am always on course? How can I begin to starve the doubts that arise when “unexpected” things occur?
The question I have for you, the question I am asking of myself as I move into another year of being is: What faiths am I feeding and what doubts can I starve?
The poet David Whyte, claims the arrogance of belonging “is an absolutely vital privilege” for anyone hoping to more vividly interact with life. And perhaps the only way to suffer from the “arrogance of belonging” is to begin to feed the faith that one is always on route, on course, and starve the worries that question that course based upon a preconceived (perhaps old) way of being in the world.
For you, this arrogance of belonging, this faith, might be necessary within one’s romantic relationships, maybe it is within one’s career or job, or perhaps it is even within one’s physical body and asana practice? Where ever it happens to be, can you cultivate a bit of faith and a little less ego-obsessed self doubt? Can you begin to believe that everything is possible for you – especially when it doesn’t look the way you’d expected it to? Can you begin to feed your faiths and starve your doubts?