If I'm being honest

On faking it in writing and governing the soul in real life

It’s one of those weeks where I feel like a bit of a fraud in this Substack endeavor. The inner critic is loud: You don’t have anything to write about! Stop pretending. Quit now before you make a fool out of yourself. In a way, she’s right. I don’t have anything new to write about at the moment. I haven’t done any homework on my particular interests. There are no revelations digested well enough to elaborate upon; no interesting stories, experiences, or moments to shine a little bit of light into. I’m faking it for now (but I’m probably not supposed to say that).

While reading the first installation of the Priory this week (more KSP, please!), one sentence leapt out at me: “Governing the soul well means, among other things, paying attention to what we pay attention to.” The reality is, there are things that I’ve spent a lot of time and mental energy on this past week that I’m proud of, and things that I am ashamed of. There are some bits of light that I’m wrestling to hold onto, and some shadows I don’t want to let go of.

I need to govern my own soul for a minute, to pay attention to what I’ve been paying attention to— it’s the little I have to offer if I’m being honest. What follows is a list of some bits I’ve found myself mulling over, for better or for worse. Maybe you can relate.

• Meditating on other people’s failures and how they inconvenience me. Bitterness is all too easy.

• Noticing the specific smell of tomatoes when they are just off the vine— “Even after it’s gone,// its smell lingers on my hands, a tribute// to the soil that gave it life: an echo,// a memory, a grief.” From the poem, “Garden,” by Dawn Morrow.

• Being confronted with the odor tomatoes emit when they are rotting— a horrible souring like no other.

• Listening to a man who has struggled with homelessness and meth addiction share how he has been reading a chapter of the Bible every day for a few months. Even though his circumstances are still hard, he shared that he has peace beyond understanding, and encouraged others to join him in the practice.

• Walking through the fields on the farm and noticing the fall squash leaves sprawling in all their wild expansiveness. Just a few weeks ago I thought the rows were too wide, and now they are crowding towards a harvest!

• Realizing the oppressive Tennessee heat causes me to get some weird heat rash on my eyelids???? A new revelation.

• Meditating on the idea that Psalm 119 was prophetically written about Christ: “Your Word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.” -Psalm 119:105, CSB. “In the beginning was the Word….” -John 1:1a, CSB. “I am the light of the world….” -John 8:12a, CSB.

• Reading this post by Rachel Joy Welcher, and remembering back to the myriad of times I have been the nurse on the other side of the phone— the one keeping watch, the one offering words of hope, the one honored to be present in such sacred and scary moments.

Zinnias on the farm this week

I’m not putting all the disjointed pieces together today, just laying them face up on the table. I want to pay attention to what sticks, to grow wiser in governing my soul. It is a slow work of honesty that I’m not always prepared to participate in. And writing is a new form of stewardship that I’m gently stepping into. What I write comes from within me, and somehow what I write speaks mysteriously back to me. But it is also for you, dear reader (even if there are only seven of you). So I’d like to know— as you govern your soul, what are you paying attention to?