On Crickets
The most luxurious and the most disconcerting part about faith is all the peace and quiet. If you’re reading this, then odds are you are a member of a rather restless majority, overstimulated and overwhelmed. It turns out we’re all seeking something, and more often than not the ultimate answer is we just want a little peace, a little quiet, and a little certainty that things are going to be okay.
I am here to attest that I do feel more calm and certainty after a few years of practicing faith, and, honestly, it’s both wonderful and a little disconcerting. My life has become more and more filled with purpose, clarity, confidence, and authenticity. I’ve established enough security to finally answer some age old questions about who I am and what I want. It’s also become more and more filled with quiet.
As in…. CRICKETS quiet.
Anyone who comes from trauma can attest that real quiet to a completely shot nervous system is the opposite of comforting. To us, it sounds like the calm before a storm. It is a warning that we best batten down the hatches and get ready for whatever BLEEP might be brewing. We can’t just sit back, relax, and think ahhhhhh. We are far too busy racing to our battle stations!
Talk about exhausting. Even opportunities for rest are not restful for those of us living without any belief in Good (or God).
There are a lot of warnings that should come on the label when it comes to cultivating faith. It is full of pitfalls, wrong turns, disappointments, rejection, and failure. Fun times, huh? It sounds unpleasant, but growth and cultivating belief is a process, and we probably wouldn’t really believe in it if it didn’t involve a complete overhaul. I have been trying to capture the stages of finding faith, and I regret to inform you, Dear Reader, that one of them is currently named COMPLETE DESTRUCTION.
In recovery programs, that stage is called rock bottom, where we’ve just completely bungled up everything, we’re in a very dark place, and we’re confused generally speaking about who we are, what we want, how we got here, and who to trust. It’s also a very important and formative time in finding faith, because it forces us to confront the reality that we don’t know what the BLEEP we’re doing, we ARE part of the problem, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a better way.
That has been my experience, anyway. I committed to finding faith, and my life actually got worse, much worse, before it got better. The BLEEP really hit the fan, so to speak, but I don’t think I am the only one who has that experience. The language in the cultural lexicon refers to it as a crossroads or turning point or crisis for a reason.
I ended up having to do a bit of a spiritual housecleaning to get ready for the next phase of this journey. There was too much baggage to carry onward, mine and that many others, some of whom, sadly, could not make the journey with me.
Sometimes, when we come from trauma, we invest time and energy in people like us, traumatized people, because we understand them. But not everyone grows at the same rate. Some don’t want to grow at all.
The people, places, and things that worked for us when we were completely lacking in faith often don’t work for us once we want it or have it. They may opt to stay in the dark, and we have to let them. Sometimes, no matter how many campfires we build to keep others warm, they will stamp them out, preferring to dance in the dark.
There is a quiet phase in building faith, where the crickets chirp. Our phone doesn’t blow up nearly as much as it used to, because we aren’t chasing one high or another, be it in people, places, or things. Maybe we’re not pinging our friends to entertain us or seeking to entertain them as much either. Maybe we aren’t ordering things online to fill emptiness within anymore. Maybe we’re re-evaluating our relationships. Maybe we’re seeking purpose rather than parties. Maybe we’re self-medicating less and meditating more. Maybe we’re seeking less stimulation and soothing ourselves more. Whatever it may be, faith creates opportunity for quiet, because our insides feel safer. Much safer.
I am BLEEPING infuriating to some people. No question. There are plenty of people out there who do not like what I have to say, who I am, how I think, or how I live my life. This seems especially true because I believe in myself.
This journey has been totally worth it, because I feel safer now. I know myself, my values, and my priorities better than ever, and I don’t think I could’ve arrived at such a place without a little faith and a lot more peace and quiet.