Love Strengthens
This entry is part of an ongoing series on strength, initiated by a letter a student wrote me. You can read the previous entries here:
Strength also refers to the intensity of a belief, a feeling, or a conviction. In the context of recovery and personal growth, I think power of conviction is less about intellectual belief at the level of dogma and more about the sustaining inner orientations that bolster me in times of fear, doubt, and darkness. For years, I thought being strong meant that I wouldn’t question my faith, that I’d always have a good attitude, and that I would show up for life wearing some kind of metaphoric battle armor that made me invincible to outside pressures and imperatives.
Not surprisingly, this expectation was thwarted by reality on a daily basis. Not only have I never managed to be invincible, as time goes by, the prospect has become increasingly unappealing. As it turns out, the same armor that protects me from harm insulates me from depth, closeness, and connection.
To be clear, I do not always find it easy to be awake and aware. Like anyone, I struggle with intimacy, deep feelings, and living authentically in a world organized by competition, greed, and consumption. Trust doesn’t come easy for me and I have tendencies and behaviors that anesthetize, buffer, and lull me into numbness when living in the world feels overwhelming or just flat-out disappointing. I spend a fair amount of time in the desert, where my solitude is stark, arid, and without much color. And yet, there are no sunsets like those in the desert and, as anyone who has spent time in the southwestern United States knows, that barren landscape is teeming with life, if you know how to recognize it.
The way I relate to my spirituality has changed a lot over the years and the strength of my convictions have grown alongside those changes. Today, my faith lives less grand explanations of Reality and high promises of becoming new-and-improved in some way and resides more in the power of Love to hold the whole mess— whether that mess is personal or collective.
I don’t love myself perfectly. I certainly miss the mark in my relationships and fall short of what is possible. One scroll through my news feed reveals plenty of evidence to challenge any assertion that Love is ever-present. And yet, I believe that a life spent investigating the qualities of love, compassion, and dare I say, hope, is a life well-spent. I believe that the inquiry is worthwhile and that conviction that gives me strength.
I used to think I would feel loved, loving, and lovable when I got it all together, did it all right, and managed some ongoing mastery of the messy business of living a human life. From my vantage point today there is love— and therefore strength— in both the fall and the rising up, in the mistakes and in the amends, and in the sometimes painful process of letting my guard down enough to see what is possible when I am less defended. Believing in love fuels my commitment to live another day in a body on the planet, because for all of the upsets and challenges, there is beauty, joy, and tender moments in which to participate and through which to be strengthened.
So, like that.
Keep the faith.
More soon.
Oh— also, registration is open for January Classes. Lots of good stuff on deck. Hope to see you online.
