Journey Towards Faith

My Journey Towards Faith...operative words being "Journey" and "Towards".

There are so many ways for me to begin this writing. But in the beginning, the beginning of me and my memories, I have no recollection of conversations about God in my home. I knew I was Jewish, but that, as someone born and raised in Manhattan, was more of an intellectual statement. It was more of a statement about education and curiosity and history than it was about God. My only memories of being in a synagogue were when we would visit my cousins in Levittown, PA. Then we would go to temple if it was the high holidays.

In my early 20’s, I started to consider the notion of “surrender.” As I understood it, it was the notion of giving someone or something else power over who I was...giving power to someone or something else to be the source of my life. I just couldn’t understand or do that–it seemed like an absurdity to me–so I said that Betty Boop was the source of things for me. Seriously, I surrounded myself with pictures and t-shirts and cups and pencil holders–every time I looked at her, it made me happy. And no kidding, I said that Betty Boop was my source.

Fast forward to December or January of this year, I was having breakfast with my dear friend Caroline. Caroline is an angel on earth, she’s funny and smart and beautiful–she’s a great listener and always open to learning and creating–but mostly, with all of those gorgeous qualities, her life is about making a difference. As we were sitting and eating at this fabulously funky breakfast place in Miami–we were talking about how I was doing. For the most part, I really do well–I’m happy a lot of the time, and my life is filled with great things– but on this day, as on many others, I was worried. I was worried about my son Benny.

I have 2 sons–they are glorious. I have a special bond with each of them–we are so close and connected–and, as it seems to be with our children, my relationship with each of them is very, and I do mean very, different. So, while I am certain I will write much about my relationship with Jeremy, this particular day was about Benny.

Being worried is something I’m really good at, especially when it comes to my children. In my connection with Benjamin, I feel him–and he knows it. It doesn’t matter if he’s in the next room or 1000 miles away, I am connected with him through the ether. I mostly have to make sure that I am not laying my concerns, my worries, my perspectives on him–after all, he is his own person, very much his own person. And yet, When he’s going through a challenging time, I feel it and I have almost always been accurate regarding what I was feeling about how he was doing.

On this fine morning at breakfast with Caroline, I was feeling Benny’s worry about school–

I was in Miami, he was at Penn State, 1255 miles away–and yet I knew he was worried. And when I think Benny is worried, I worry at my best. I am obsessive–the tape is on an endless loop of worry–I meditate, I listen to music, I read about parenting, I talk to friends...those all help for a while, but then the loop continues. The night before had been one of those loops and I hadn’t slept well and was so emotional. I sat at the table crying about my concern for Benny. Caroline said something like, “He’ll be ok. Ben is strong and he is finding his way.” I knew she was right because I know he is all of those things. I shared that even though I knew that, my incessant, unproductive, quite destructive worry continued. She then said something like, “Why don't you turn it over? Have faith.” I looked at her as if she was speaking another language–little did I know that she was–and asked her, “How do I do that? I’ve never had faith. I've always envied people who seem to have this strong sense of trust in something. It seems to give you all a sense of peace that I don’t think I have.”

She’s so smart, she then asked me what I would do if I were interested in learning about something. “I would read,” I said, “I would read.” “Terrific–why don’t you start at the source of it all then–why don’t you read the bible?” I’ve never read the bible and I’ve been both proud and embarrassed by that–kind of like being a new yorker who has never been to the top of the Empire State building–I wear it as a bit of a badge of honor and also know that it’s something that would probably be amazing.

So fast forward. I started reading the bible in the morning and then journaling afterward. I moved from the bible to other books about spirituality, faith, finding faith, having faith, doubting faith, and living from faith. After each morning reading, I write. I’m pretty vigilant with this practice–not quite daily, but most days. I want that sense of peace, I want to be able to trust and surrender, I want to believe that there is something bigger and mightier that I can turn my fears and worries over to...a bit like having your mom or dad come in when you think there are monsters under your bed or in your closet. As I think of that, I could cry a whole lot...I didn't have that soothing much as a child–but I’ll save that for another blog.

How’s it going? I feel more peaceful, my sense of worry seems less, I seem to be less anxious–at least that’s how it feels internally. I know I’m still really good at being anxious and controlling–and the people who love me the most wish I could just relax...as a side note, that is the worst freakin’ thing you can ever say to me. But honestly, I wish I could. And I’m working on it. And I’m digging that I have a daily practice to create a new world for myself–and I’ll continue.