Piloting Faith: I wrote a letter to my younger self. Here is what I said...
A Word for the Day...
Most mornings I get up, fix my coffee and complete a practice that I first learned from Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way, called "Morning Pages." As she describes them, Morning Pages are three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness writing, done first thing in the morning. There is no wrong way to do Morning Pages – they are not high art. They are about anything and everything that crosses your mind – and they are for your eyes only.
My "Morning Pages" took a turn this week as I found myself writing a letter to my younger self. I recalled the lessons that I have learned about life in these 40 years that I have now lived on this planet. It went something like this:
Cameron, here is some of what you will learn as you go through life. These lessons have served you well:
Friendships will come and go. You won't be able to predict which are which. Just love and cherish them all while you can. You will find a wonderful tribe of "your people" who will enrich your life in the deepest ways. It only gets better.
Some people are not your friends. Your instinct will tell you, but you will ignore it. That's a hard lesson, but one we make when we are young. Try not to learn it more than once.
Don't whine. It never helps and gets on people's nerves.
Show up, pay attention, speak your truth, and pray for the best outcome. There are moments when this will scare you to death. Do it anyway.
You will become more fierce about what matters as you age. There is a warrior in you that you won't meet until you need her later. She is stronger than you ever imagined.
Your faith is going to change. You will lose your naivete and abandon your need to understand it all. You will come to love the questions. You become a co-creator of your life with God.
You will simply stop trying to meet other people's definition of success. You will stop chasing their goals. You will reach a point when authenticity means more to you than popularity. You will know you're there because you can finally breathe.
This world will break your heart. You will feel the pain of discrimination and political division. Don't look away or numb out. Stay present and vulnerable to the pain. It's what keeps you kind and brave.
The important "forks in the road" of your life aren't the ones that people will see. They will be the ones when you are choosing between fear or love, anger or forgiveness, pride or humility.
Laugh. Laugh a lot. Laugh in that deep, brings tears to your eyes, slap your knee kind of way. That kind of laughter heals you, and let's you start again.
Your turn: What would you tell your younger self? If you take the time to write them, send them to me. My life will be made richer from learning the lessons you've lived.
We are all in this together. Thanks be to God.
- Rev. Cameron Trimble, author of Piloting Church: Helping Your Congregation Take Flight
Prayer for the Week
(This past week we lost a Saint, poet Mary Oliver. She put into words some of the most profound human experiences and taught us to see the world around us. In her memory, let's meditate on her words.)
"Wild Geese"
By Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
