A god of my understanding

Photo by Christopher Campbell

A couple of months ago, I listened to Liz Gilbert’s story on an episode of the podcast “We Can Do Hard Things” (link below). The next day, I went back to the episode and listened again. Her whole story struck a cord in me.

One thing in particular struck me profoundly: as part of her addiction recovery, Liz was advised to discover the ‘god’ - the higher power - of her own understanding. She was, first and foremost, surprised when she was told to do this. So was I. As I listened, I realised that for my whole life so far, I had been trying to follow the ‘god’ figures I’d been handed. I had been desperately trying to connect with higher powers that were described to me or given to me.

Liz learned that, to walk the path of recovery, not only can she connect with a god of her own, but she must.
It is a necessity.

I listened on. The most moving and unforgettable minutes of the two-part session with Liz were (in my opinion) an intimate sharing of an exchange between herself and the god of her understanding. But I won’t spoil it. I encourage you to listen to the whole beautiful thing yourself.

Later that day, or that week (I can’t remember precisely), I sat in bed with my journal. I took a pen and listed all that I needed from a god of my understanding.

I quickly discovered that the word ‘god’ didn’t quite fit. It had, for too long, signified the theistic male god of christian tradition. I tried the word ‘goddess’ on for size. I’m not quite sure if I’ll stick with this, but on the day I wrote my journal entry, these are the words that emerged when I asked myself to find the goddess of my understanding.
Below, in blue, is an excerpt from my journal:

Who is the GOD of my understanding?

Who is my GOD?

God - god - GOD

Goddess

goddess

Who is my goddess?

What do I need from her?

She is a source - an infinite source.

Guidance.

Unconditional love.

An infinite source of love.

Nurturing.

A listening ear.

A shoulder to cry on.

A reminder of my
- worth
- courage
- beauty
- progress.

Someone/ something to help free me.

Help with processing and releasing emotions.

Someone who’s always there.

Acceptance.

Softness/ gentleness.

An embrace. A hug waiting to happen. Arms I can always fold into.

A love I can trust.

A love with no ulterior motives.
An uncorrupted love.

Boundless capacity: to hold and love all of Me/ all of my energy.

Limitless energy, flowing peacefully and unhindered.

A source of peace.

Relief.

Understanding.

A place that feels (deeply) like Home.

A friend, a Love to talk to. To Be with.

Soothing.

Relief from blame.

Relief from pain.

Relief from attachment & Control.

A soft landing place, especially when I freefall.

Someone or some‘thing’ to hold me, as I pass through.

Someone to listen (and therefore help me listen) to my thoughts without judgement.

A reminder to Laugh at myself.

A mirror, reflecting Truth.
Or rather, a Channel, through which Truth may travel.

Someone who helps me take myself less GD seriously.

Laugh with me (& at me), Goddess, and show me the ways of Joy. I long to surrender.

A few months after this journal entry, I found myself abandoning this bountiful goddess. Even after promising myself I’d return to her, daily. Even after having experienced the deep wisdom and boundless love offered when I enter her space.

The hardest part for me, and part of the reason for abandonment, has been the task of separating the concept of a god, goddess or higher power from the idea of a watchful and reprimanding presence. The scars of my catholic upbringing seem to have marred my idea that a god or goddess or higher power can be nothing but benevolent and accepting. Nothing but loving and nurturing. Nothing but kind and embracing. I am reckoning with much ingrained resistance. And this is why it is important that I return to my definition, again and again. This is why I have put it here.

Another barrier is the lie I often tell myself: that I can’t connect or don’t have time to connect or haven’t found the right way or place or form to connect with the god of my understanding. Yet she never goes anywhere, so when I dissolve the lie and connect, there she is, with open arms and a forgiving spirit. Nature is not vengeful. God is not vengeful. Vast Love is accessible at every moment of our lives. Yet we’re so alienated from it. We fear and hide from the very thing that can heal us.

It is fruitful to remind myself that there are several ways to connect with her. Music, dancing, movement, meditation, reflection, a good cry, vulnerability, openness, surrender, rest, play. The list goes on, and it is particular to each of us, just like our gods or higher powers are particular to each of us. There is no one singular way. It all depends, once again, on what we need and what have access to in that moment. In that day, in that situation.

I think it’s time - for me - to heal my relationship with God. The word is still very tentative. I’ve changed it often, from ‘God’ to ‘Knowing’ to ‘Source’ to ‘Goddess’ to ‘Higher Power’ to ‘Love’ or ‘Loving-Kindness’, not in that linear order. These words also pose obstacles, because words are important to me. But as always, the word is not the thing. The word is not the feeling. Whatever my god’s name is, I know it is my deepest wisdom and my saving grace.

Maybe that’s the name right there. I’m going to call my god(dess) ‘Grace’. For now.

The beautiful thing is that it matters not what each person calls their god - it matters that we call our god. And that we listen when god gracefully and inevitably replies.

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Links to We Can Do Hard Things episodes featuring Liz Gilbert and her moving story:

Part 1: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1FtQHtJ3PevbSTJQn1AcUF

Part 2: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1JNQOU5H83g2A0SqJlKUo2