hope and faith.
ditching hope to become a woman a faith.
I’m a word-nerd. I’m strangely passionate about words and their meanings.
The way my brain works, I need things to be defined. When I’m very clear on what a word means, I’m able to have more focus and intention.
There are sets of words that we often use interchangeably. But in many cases I feel that they are just different enough, that they shouldn’t be.
“Happiness” and “joy”.
“Artist” and “creative”.
“Solitude” and “loneliness”.
One of those sets of words I’ve been musing on lately is
“hope” and “faith”.
I understand that these words can be used in place of the other. “I hope/have faith things will work out,” for example.
But lately these two words are feeling very different to me. So much so I find myself wanting to hope less, and practice faith more.
According to the Oxford dictionary the definition of hope is this:
“a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.”
Lately I feel burned by hope. Burdened by it. I’ve hoped for many things that either didn’t happen, or didn’t happen when I wanted, or didn’t happen in the way I expected.
When I hope, I feel anxious. I feel like I’m grasping onto something that I don’t even have. And in that grasping I get filled with the incessant need to control; to make things happen.
To me hope feels conditional. It’s contingent upon a result.
There’s a principle in yogic philosophy called “aparigraha”, which means “non-possessiveness” or “non-attachment”. When we practice aparigraha, we practice focusing on what is within our control, and not attaching our wellbeing to the results of those actions.
When my hopes are high, I find myself unable to practice aparigraha. I find myself hyper fixated on the future, and the future looking the way I want it to. I find myself clinging to hope that things will go a certain way, and a heightened sense of fear that they won’t. This comes out in frustration, anger, and ultimately an inability to actually focus on what’s right in front of me.
I’m starting to feel that faith is very different from hope. And that faith is beckoning me as I move into the next phase of my life.
Faith is defined as:
“complete trust or confidence in someone or something.”
The difference in these definitions is that faith is not an expectancy. It’s not rooted in desire. It’s complete trust. Without any knowledge or guarantee of what may or may not happen.
There’s another yogic principle called “Ishvara pranidhana”, which means “surrender to the Lord” or “devotion to one’s higher Self”.
There’s a Proverb that reminds me of this yogic principle: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.”
Lean not on your own understanding.
Ishvara pranidhana, Proverbs 3:5, faith…they ask us to move in such a way that is not contingent on anything we already know, anything we think we desire, expectations, or even our hopes.
I am starting to believe that faith is so radical, that it could be present even in the worst of circumstances. It could be present when all hopes are squashed, in turmoil, and even in death.
Faith, in the way I’m thinking about it lately, is not faith that good things will happen. It’s faith in God. In the universe. In the process. In Life itself. It’s knowing that I do not know. That my own measly understanding of life is nothing compared to the forces that create, maintain, destroy and renew everything in the universe.
Hope is surface. Hope is contingent upon an outcome.
Faith is deep. It is not logical. It transcends.
I want to be a woman of faith.
Remember when I said I loved definitions? Well growing up in the church gave me a certain definition of the phrase “woman of faith”. I understood this to mean, a Christian woman. A woman who goes to church, reads her bible, believes Jesus is the one true God and talks about God incessantly.
There was a time when I thought that’s who I wanted and ought to be. I don’t anymore.
Now, I understand a “woman of faith” to be a woman who moves through her life with grace because she is not anxious about what she does not know.
She trusts in Life. She trusts that neither the good times nor the bad times are permanent. She knows she is never truly alone. She trusts in change and in mundaneness. She is a heart-centered woman. She has a calm nervous system, and a sharp one when necessary. She is strong and she is soft. She keeps her hopes in the corner of her mind, but her faith lives deep in her heart.
She is guided by signs and delighted by synchronicities. She prays more than she worries. She gives thanks and sends love into the wind trusting it’ll be received. She makes art without fear and love without restraint.
I want to be a woman of faith.
I feel regretful for all the times I’ve lashed out, spiraled, or felt hopeless because my expectations were not met. I feel remorseful for the times when my actions did not indicate that I had faith in the rhythm of my life. The times I grasped onto my hopes rather than releasing my grip and resting in the spaciousness of my heart.
But I won’t wallow in that regret. It motivates me and inspires me to be how I actually want to be.
A woman of faith.
I can almost see her, that version of me, in my mind’s eye. I can feel her in my body and in my soul. I know she’s been here the whole time. She guides me forward into the next chapter of my life. Maybe (hopefully) all the way to the end.
photos taken on walks these past couple weeks; happy spring 💗
YOGA THINGS 🙏
YOGA IN THE PARK: Join me Sundays, 12pm in Freedom Park, atl for a free community practice. No registration or fee. No experience or abilities required. Just bring a blanket, some water, and yourself and move, breathe, and chill under the trees. (Updates and more info on my instagram: @carlybrown.yoga)
I am now teaching 2 weekly public classes in a studio: The Intown Retreat in Decatur! Friday and Saturday mornings at 9am for a heated flow class. It’s challenging but doable for all levels. Come see me if you’re looking for a new studio class <3
I hope to see and connect with you soon
💗
I feel remorseful for the times when my actions did not indicate that I had faith in the rhythm of my life...I feel this deeply. what a lovely distinction.