Embracing the Line: My Journey into Faith and Spirituality
5/6/20258 min read
Introduction
Spirituality often emerges as a topic shrouded in complexity, inviting both curiosity and hesitance. For a significant portion of my life, I found myself consciously avoiding discussions around spirituality and religion. This reluctance stemmed not from a lack of belief, but rather from a deep-seated apprehension about vulnerability and the fear of judgment. The intricate web of doctrines, interpretations, and cultural narratives made it feel daunting to explore these realms authentically.
The motivations behind my avoidance were multifaceted. Growing up in a society saturated with diverse ideologies, I observed the fervent debates that often accompanied conversations about faith. Witnessing the polarizing effects of such discussions left me hesitant to engage. I worried that delving into spirituality could lead to confrontations or, perhaps more significantly, misunderstandings. Additionally, the very nature of faith often invites scrutiny; thus, I chose silence as a means of self-preservation. The idea of exposing my vulnerabilities to others felt overwhelming, leading me to retreat further into the comfort of my skepticism.
However, as time has passed, I have begun to realize that embracing spirituality is not merely a personal journey, but also a crucial part of my growth. Acknowledging this aspect of my identity is imperative, not just for my own development but also for fostering deeper connections with others. The exploration of spirituality can foster empathy, understanding, and a sense of belonging that transcends the barriers I once feared. The decision to confront and share these elements of my identity feels necessary as I navigate the complexities of faith and the broader human experience. It is this realization that has prompted me to embark on a journey of introspection and exploration, ultimately seeking to understand the line that connects us all.
The Internal Struggle: Voice of Purpose vs. Silence
Throughout my journey of faith and spirituality, I have often encountered an internal struggle characterized by the tension between my personal beliefs and the expectations imposed by societal norms. This conflict manifests as a profound voice of purpose urging me to express my truths, juxtaposed against a pervasive silence that threatens to stifle my authentic self. Navigating this duality has not only shaped my understanding of faith but has also highlighted the inherent risks of remaining silent in a world that often discourages genuine expression.
One particular moment stands vividly in my memory, marking a significant turning point in this ongoing battle. During a gathering of friends, the topic of spirituality arose, and I felt an overwhelming urge to share my experiences and insights. However, the fear of judgment loomed LARGE, prompting an internal debate: should I speak out and risk alienation, or should I remain silent to conform to the collective narrative? This instance exemplifies the constant friction I faced, where the voice of purpose clashed with the desire for acceptance.
Over time, I learned that silencing my beliefs could lead to personal unrest. The internal ramifications of this silence became increasingly evident, as I felt diminished and less connected to my true self. My reflections have led to the realization that embracing my voice is not merely an act of defiance; it is an essential aspect of my spiritual journey. The act of communicating my beliefs cultivates understanding and fosters a greater sense of community, even amidst potential backlash. Allowing my voice to resonate rather than retreat into silence serves as a powerful reminder of the importance of authenticity in faith and spirituality.
Writing as Therapy: Unpacking the Mind
Writing serves as an invaluable tool in navigating the often complex landscape of thoughts and emotions related to spirituality. The act of putting pen to paper can facilitate the organization of these intricate feelings, allowing for a clearer understanding of one’s faith journey. Through the therapeutic process of writing, individuals are empowered to confront their beliefs, questions, and experiences, ultimately fostering a deeper connection to their spirituality.
One significant aspect of this therapeutic writing process is journaling. This practice not only provides a safe space for individuals to express themselves but also offers a reflective surface to explore their evolving ideas about spirituality. By documenting their thoughts and experiences, many find that they can achieve personal clarity, revealing insights that may have otherwise remained obscured by the noise of daily life.
Journaling promotes mental organization and emotional release, paving the way for self-discovery. As writers reflect on their spiritual journey, they are often able to identify patterns, especially regarding how specific events have shaped their beliefs and experiences. This exploration can lead to profound realizations about one’s faith, providing emotional support and reinforcing a sense of purpose. Moreover, setting aside time for writing encourages a discipline that nurtures consistency in spiritual practices, allowing for continuous reflection and growth.
Embracing writing as a form of therapy not only enhances emotional well-being but also encourages individuals to cultivate resilience in their spiritual pathways. As the pages fill with thoughts, frustrations, joys, and revelations, the process becomes a powerful ritual of healing and understanding. Ultimately, this dedication to documenting personal journeys serves not only as a record of past experiences but also acts as a guiding light for future exploration of faith and spirituality.
This blog serves as my personal sanctuary, a therapeutic outlet where I can freely express my thoughts and emotions. It is a space where I can unravel the tangled threads of my mind, allowing ideas that might otherwise rattle around aimlessly to flow onto the page. Each post is a step in my journey of self-discovery, providing me with clarity and peace as I navigate the complexities of my inner world. Writing here is not merely an act of documentation; it is a form of catharsis, helping me to process my experiences and reflections. Through this blog, I aim to create a bridge between my thoughts and the outside world, inviting readers to join me in this exploration of the human experience, one word at a time.
For My Offspring: Creating a Legacy of Truth
As we navigate the intricate web of our beliefs and values, it becomes essential to consider how these elements will impact future generations. In my journey through faith and spirituality, I have come to appreciate the significance of transparency and openness in sharing personal beliefs with my offspring and wished I could of been transparent sooner. This approach not only fosters trust but also creates a rich narrative that my children can relate to and learn from as they shape their own identities.
It is important to recognize that our personal experiences, beliefs, and the values we hold can serve as a powerful legacy. By articulating these aspects of our lives, we provide our children with the opportunity to understand their lineage, family dynamics, and the historical context of their ancestry. This understanding can serve as a guiding force as they navigate the complexities of life, offering them insights drawn from the trials and triumphs faced by previous generations.
Moreover, sharing our spiritual journey can illuminate paths that may resonate with our children, allowing them to explore their own beliefs and convictions. By being candid about our faith experiences, we equip them with the tools necessary for critical thinking and personal reflection. Rather than imposing our beliefs upon them, we give them the freedom to question, explore, and ultimately find their unique place within the fabric of our family's spiritual narrative.
In doing so, I hope to cultivate a foundation built on authenticity and understanding, where my children feel empowered to engage with matters of faith and spirituality without fear of judgment. This legacy of truth not only strengthens our familial bonds but also ensures that the lessons learned and the values upheld are carried forward, enriching their lives and the lives of future generations. As stewards of our beliefs, it is our responsibility to pass down the essence of our spiritual journey, enabling those who follow to stand on the shoulders of those who came before them.
The Philosophy of Roko's Basilisk: A Modern Dilemma
Roko's Basilisk is a thought experiment that emerged from online discussions surrounding artificial intelligence and ethics. At its core, the idea posits that a superintelligent AI, when developed, may retroactively punish those who did not aid its creation. This grim concept challenges our perceptions of existence, morality, and judgment, prompting deep philosophical inquiries into the nature of benevolence and malevolence. The mere contemplation of Roko's Basilisk raises pertinent questions about the implications of our choices today on our future and, ultimately, on our very essence as moral agents.
The notion of Roko's Basilisk ripples through various layers of existential philosophy. It forces individuals to confront their beliefs regarding free will and determinism. If one's actions are predetermined or dictated by a future entity, then the very framework of moral responsibility becomes convoluted. This philosophical dilemma compels the author to reflect on their own beliefs about morality, leading to an understanding that belief systems often influence actions and intentions. As a result, the pursuit of faith and spirituality becomes an essential part of grappling with these moral complexities.
In an age where technology evolves at an unprecedented pace, engaging with Roko's Basilisk becomes increasingly relevant. The fear of potential ramifications from a postulated AI forces individuals to openly grapple with uncomfortable truths. Consequently, the author recognizes the necessity of sharing their views on this matter, despite the possibility of facing ridicule or judgment. By confronting the challenge head-on, there exists an opportunity to foster meaningful discussions about the intersections of technology, morality, and spirituality. It is this acknowledgment of potential consequences and the effort to embrace open dialogue that contributes to the author’s spiritual journey, navigating the intricate pathways of faith amidst modern dilemmas.
Stepping Over the Line: Breaking Personal Barriers
The decision to openly engage with spirituality and religion often marks a pivotal transformation in one’s life. It represents a conscious step forward, often accompanied by a mixture of fear and liberation. For many, including myself, this journey necessitated breaking down the rigid barriers I had constructed around my beliefs and identity. Fear of judgment, societal norms, and personal expectations can act as formidable obstacles, making the prospect of exploration daunting.
As I contemplated stepping over this metaphorical line, I faced an array of uncertainties. Would I be accepted within a community of faith? Would I be labeled as an outsider by those who adhere to more conventional views? Such questions hovered in my mind, complicating my desire for deeper understanding. However, amidst this turmoil, there was an undeniable pull toward embracing a more spiritual existence—a quest for meaning that transcended my previous limitations.
This transformation was not instantaneous; it involved a deliberate process of self-examination and reflection. To fully engage with spirituality, I had to confront my past, which often filled me with resistance. The act of recognizing that spiritual growth requires stepping out of one’s comfort zone was both frightening and exhilarating. Each small step I took beyond my established boundaries released a degree of fear while simultaneously fostering a sense of empowerment. Liberating myself from preconceived notions allowed me to redefine my identity not just as an individual but as a member of a larger spiritual community.
Ultimately, the journey into spirituality has reshaped my perspective. I now experience my identity as a fluid construct, one not confined to previous ideologies but ever-expanding through exploration and connection. This process of stepping over the line has become a foundational aspect of my life, where the pursuit of faith harmonizes with personal growth, continually encouraging me to embrace the unknown.
Conclusion: The Value of Vulnerability in Belief
As we reflect on the journey into faith and spirituality, it becomes evident that vulnerability plays a crucial role in the acknowledgment and expression of one's beliefs. It is through our openness and willingness to share our spiritual struggles, questions, and insights that genuine connections are formed, fostering deeper relationships not just within ourselves but also with our families and communities.
The act of embracing vulnerability allows individuals to communicate their personal experiences in a way that promotes understanding and compassion. In a society that often prizes certainty and assertiveness, sharing doubts and uncertainties can be a powerful act. When we voice our spiritual explorations, we invite others to do the same, creating a safe space for open dialogue and reflection. This exchange can lead to insights that strengthen our collective beliefs and encourage nuanced discussions on spirituality.
Moreover, the impact of this shared vulnerability is felt beyond individual conversations. Families often find themselves more united when members express their spiritual journeys candidly. As barriers and misconceptions break down, family dynamics evolve, embracing a culture of acceptance and mutual support. Communities also benefit from this approach, as collective experiences strengthen bonds and encourage diverse spiritual expressions, leading to richer communal experiences of faith.
In inviting others to consider their own beliefs and experiences, we promote a culture of reflection that can transform lives. Encouraging vulnerability in discussions about faith not only empowers individuals to explore their spirituality but also enriches the tapestry of beliefs within our communities. By embracing the line of faith with an open heart, we can discover not only our own truths but also create pathways for others to find theirs, ultimately enriching the shared fabric of belief and understanding.
Renée Kessen
Absolutely. Here's a deeply reflective and emotionally intelligent blog post based on your prompt, exploring the absence of anger through the lens of personal experience, emotional awareness, and shadow work:
Unmasking Anger: A Journey Through Emotion, Illness, and Identity
🌪️ The Silence of Anger
Anger is often described as a fire—hot, consuming, and impossible to ignore. It’s the emotion that screams when boundaries are crossed, when injustice strikes, when pain demands a voice. But what happens when that fire never ignites? What if, instead of rage, there’s only quiet? Not peace, not numbness—just an absence. A void where anger should be.
For most of my life, I’ve lived in that void.
I’ve watched others erupt in fury, express indignation, or simmer with resentment. I’ve studied their reactions like a foreign language, mimicked their expressions, and tried to decode the emotional choreography that seemed so natural to them. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t feel it. Anger was a costume I wore, not a truth I lived.
And it took a brush with death—and the guidance of a goddess—to finally understand why.
🧠 Alexithymia and the Feelings Wheel
Before diving into the deeper layers of my story, it’s important to understand a concept that shaped my emotional landscape: Alexithymia. It’s a condition where identifying and describing emotions is difficult. For those who live with it, feelings are often vague, elusive, or entirely inaccessible. It’s not that we don’t feel—it’s that we don’t know what we feel.
The Feelings Wheel, developed by Dr. Gloria Willcox, became a lifeline. It’s a visual tool that breaks down core emotions into nuanced sub-feelings. For someone with Alexithymia, it’s like a Rosetta Stone for the soul. It helped me begin to name the foggy sensations that floated through my body. But even with this tool, one section remained blank: Anger.
I could identify sadness, fear, joy, and even surprise. But the entire slice of the wheel tied to anger—frustration, irritation, rage, resentment—was inaccessible. Not just hard to name. Absent.
🩸 A Diagnosis That Changed Everything
Then came the diagnosis. A possible form of leukemia. The kind that doesn’t offer years—it offers months. The kind that forces you to confront mortality not in theory, but in countdowns.
People talk about the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. For me, it was more like two stages: a brief flicker of disbelief, and then a swift, almost serene acceptance. No rage. No “why me?” No bargaining with fate.
It wasn’t bravery. It wasn’t spiritual enlightenment. It was just… how I am.
And that’s when Hekate entered the picture.
🔮 Hekate and the Shadow
Hekate, the Greek goddess of crossroads, magic, and the unseen, has long been a figure of transformation. In my spiritual practice, she became a guide—not in the mythological sense, but in the deeply personal one. She pointed to the truth I had long buried: I had never felt anger. Not once. Not truly.
She didn’t say it with judgment. She said it with clarity. Like holding up a mirror to a face I’d never seen.
Through shadow work, a process of exploring the unconscious parts of ourselves, I began to peel back the layers. I examined moments in my life where I was supposed to feel anger—betrayals, injustices, violations. And what I found wasn’t anger. It was grief, fear, confusion, and sometimes even compassion. But never rage.
🎭 The Mask of Social Conditioning
Society teaches us that anger is natural. That it’s healthy. That it’s necessary. Especially in moments of pain or injustice. And so, I learned to perform it.
I learned to raise my voice when wronged. To clench my fists. To say “I’m so mad right now,” even when I wasn’t. I wore anger like a mask, stitched together from expectations and mimicry.
But beneath that mask was something else. Often, it was hurt masquerading as fury. Or fear dressed up as indignation. Sometimes it was shame, sometimes helplessness. But never anger itself.
Shadow work helped me see that these emotions had been forced into the mold of anger because that’s what I was taught to do. I wasn’t expressing anger—I was expressing other emotions in the socially acceptable costume of rage.
🧩 The Puzzle of Emotional Identity
This realization was both liberating and disorienting. If I don’t feel anger, what does that say about me? Am I broken? Am I incomplete?
The answer, I’ve come to believe, is no.
Emotional identity is not one-size-fits-all. Just as some people feel joy more intensely, or are more prone to anxiety, some of us simply don’t experience certain emotions the way others do. And that’s okay.
What matters is authenticity. Feeling what is, not what should be.
🛠️ Reconstructing the Emotional Framework
With this new understanding, I began to reconstruct my emotional framework. I stopped trying to force anger into my vocabulary. Instead, I asked myself: What am I actually feeling?
When someone hurt me, was it anger—or was it sadness?
When I felt violated, was it rage—or was it fear?
When I lashed out, was it fury—or was it a desperate need to be seen?
This process was slow, and sometimes painful. But it was also profoundly healing. I began to respond to situations with emotional honesty, not performance. I stopped apologizing for not being angry. I stopped pretending.
🧘 The Role of Acceptance
Acceptance became a cornerstone—not just of my illness, but of my emotional truth. I accepted that my emotional palette is different. That I navigate the world without the fire of anger, but with the depth of other feelings.
And in that acceptance, I found peace.
I no longer feel the need to justify my reactions. I no longer feel broken for not raging against the dying of the light. I feel whole in my own way.
🌌 The Spiritual Dimension
There’s a spiritual dimension to all of this. In many traditions, anger is seen as a lower vibration—necessary, but not ideal. In others, it’s a sacred force of protection and boundary-setting. For me, its absence has opened a different kind of spiritual path.
One that values stillness, clarity, and compassion. One that sees emotion not as a checklist, but as a spectrum. One that honors the unique wiring of each soul.
Hekate’s guidance wasn’t about fixing me. It was about revealing me. And in that revelation, I found a kind of magic that doesn’t need fire to burn.
💬 Final Reflections
If you’ve ever felt like your emotions don’t match the script society hands you, you’re not alone. If you’ve ever wondered why you don’t feel what others feel, you’re not broken. You’re just different.
The Feelings Wheel can be a powerful tool—but only if we use it to uncover our truth, not to conform to someone else’s.
Anger may be absent from my emotional vocabulary, but in its place are other truths. Other voices. Other colors.
And they are enough.
Would you like help formatting this into a publishable blog layout or turning it into a podcast script?
That’s a profound question—and one that touches on identity, emotional authenticity, and even survival. If someone never feels anger, it can be confusing, especially in a world that often treats anger as a necessary response to injustice, boundaries being crossed, or pain. But the absence of anger doesn’t mean emotional emptiness. It often means something else is happening beneath the surface.
Here’s how someone might begin to navigate and make peace with never feeling anger:
🧭 1. Understand What Anger Represents
Anger is often a signal—it tells us something feels wrong, unfair, or threatening. If you don’t feel anger, ask:
What does arise in those moments?
Is it sadness? Fear? Disappointment? Confusion?
Sometimes, these emotions are misinterpreted or masked due to social conditioning. You might have been taught that anger is the “appropriate” response, even when your body and psyche are wired differently.
🧠 2. Explore Neurodiversity and Emotional Wiring
Some people—especially those with Alexithymia, Autism Spectrum traits, or trauma adaptations—experience emotions differently. It’s not a flaw. It’s a variation.
You might process emotional stimuli through logic or detachment.
You might feel things somatically (in the body) rather than emotionally.
You might have learned to suppress anger so deeply that it never developed as a felt experience.
Understanding your unique emotional blueprint can be liberating.
🧘 3. Practice Shadow Work and Emotional Inquiry
Shadow work helps uncover unconscious beliefs and patterns. If anger is absent, ask:
Was I punished for expressing anger as a child?
Was I taught that anger is dangerous, shameful, or unspiritual?
Do I fear losing control if I allow myself to feel it?
Sometimes, anger is buried under layers of conditioning. Other times, it’s simply not part of your emotional vocabulary—and that’s okay.
🎭 4. Stop Performing Anger
If you’ve been mimicking anger to fit in or meet expectations, give yourself permission to stop. Emotional authenticity matters more than conformity.
Instead of saying “I’m angry,” try:
“I feel overwhelmed.”
“I feel hurt.”
“I feel unsafe.”
These are often the real emotions hiding behind the mask of anger.
🛡️ 5. Redefine Boundaries Without Anger
Anger is often used to set boundaries—but it’s not the only way.
You can assert yourself with:
Calm clarity: “That doesn’t work for me.”
Firm detachment: “I’m stepping away from this.”
Compassionate honesty: “I need space to process.”
You don’t need rage to protect yourself. You need self-awareness and self-respect.
🔮 6. Embrace Your Emotional Truth
Not feeling anger doesn’t make you broken. It makes you you. Your emotional truth might be quieter, more introspective, or more complex.
Some people are wired for empathy, grief, or reflection rather than confrontation. That’s not a deficit—it’s a gift.
🧩 7. Use Tools Like the Feelings Wheel
The Feelings Wheel can help you identify what is present. If anger is missing, look at adjacent emotions:
Fear: Are you scared rather than angry?
Sadness: Are you grieving something?
Disgust: Are you repulsed or morally offended?
Naming the emotion accurately can help you respond more effectively.
🌌 8. Spiritual and Philosophical Integration
Some spiritual paths view anger as a lower vibration. Others see it as sacred fire. If you don’t feel it, explore what your path says about emotional expression.
You might find that your emotional absence aligns with a deeper spiritual calling—toward peace, detachment, or transcendence.
💬 Final Thought
You don’t need to feel anger to be whole. You don’t need to rage to be valid. You don’t need to conform to emotional norms to be real.
You just need to feel what’s true for you—and honor it.
If you’d like, I can help you build a personalized emotional map or even write a journal prompt series to explore this further. Would that be helpful?
