An Act of Faith
March 14, 2013 in Spirituality
Sometimes, writing is an act of faith.
In my search to come to whatever I’m supposed to understand on this topic, I faithfully proceed, not knowing where it will lead me.
I’ve followed the signs that started when the nursing home called to tell me about my mother’s change in treatment plan.
I’ve seen spirit show me the connection between the electric events in the sky and our society’s electric communication system.
I’ve concluded that government benefits from each person having access to wireless technology.
Those are the clues.
What’s the puzzle?
This is the tough part of writing.
I don’t have an ending and I don’t know where to find it
I dreamed about it overnight.
The dream was clear.
I innately know it contained more clues about this topic.
However, it had no obvious connection to it.
In the dream, I was scheduled to speak on Sunday morning at a church I attended during my childhood.
Everyone was there and nothing was happening.
I looked at the clock and noticed it was ten minutes past time to start the service. People were running around, in a zombie-like state, doing urgent and meaningless things.
Suddenly, the service began and each person mindlessly and hurriedly fulfilled his or her role. The music was done poorly, people were talking loudly to those around them, ignoring the worship service, and the male pastor I was sitting beside became a woman and had stubble on her (his?) upper lip.
All of this was taking place at a church where the services always start on time, the music is always top notch, and women aren’t allowed to be pastors.
I woke from the dream just as it was time for me to speak.
I had hoped that writing about the dream would bring clarity.
It hasn’t.
Or, it didn’t at first.
Then, I remembered a lesson from my distant past.
It is one about resistance.
It goes like this.
If the Law of Attraction is true, I attract everything into my life.
Therefore, when I have an external conflict (in this case, an unresolved writing topic), it is an indication of an internal conflict.
When I have this conflict, I stagnate. I stay in a story because I’m afraid to move forward.
I resist what is in front of me to do.
Within this resistance, I rehash the story.
A friend of mine calls this “the story loop.”
It circles and swirls, like a tornado or hurricane.
It creates a storm.
To end the storm, one must end the resistance.
To end the resistance, one must identify it.
There are things I sense about this topic that I have postponed writing about – resisted – because they feel too difficult, too long, too boring or, possibly, too far out there.
I see that I have to write about them if I’m going to end this storm.
Some might even call that, “an act of faith.”
