Conversations with the Inner Voices: Conflict, Confirmation, and the Gift of Being
Having and Being
Stripped of the uniform of “having,” it becomes very clear that what matters are not things. In the absence of finances, possessions, and the clutter of accumulation, there is charity. And charity, confusingly, is not the humiliation of begging and receiving. True charity is largesse. It is abundance. It is patience. It is kindness.
Many miss the experience of those gifts because their lives are already too full of empty things.
Giving, then, is itself the gift.
You give but little when you give of your possessions.
It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?
And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?
And what is fear of need but need itself?
Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable?— Kahlil Gibran, On Giving
Relationship
Before the game of blaming begins, the deepest wound is the acceptance of self-inflicted injury.
The lust for another—raw, abject, unbalanced—is a curse many are too afraid to admit. In the consent to be with someone neither thoughtful nor caring, you wish you could take back every emotion, every exchange, every lip-locked, sweat-drenched, body-arching moment. Not because intimacy is wrong, but because it was never shared. It was taken.
When faced with the mirror of emotional grief, forgiveness creeps in. Hurt takes its sweet time; healing takes longer.
“If somebody wants to walk out of your life, let them go. Especially if you know you’ve done everything you can do. Some people come into your life for a lifetime. Some come for a season. You’ve got to know which is which. And you’re always gonna mess up when you mix seasonal people up with lifetime expectations.”
— Tyler Perry, Madea Goes to Jail
Religion
After the murderous assault of terrorists, when lives are claimed in God’s name, one wonders what form of deity could so contaminate the human mind. And yet, history is riddled with blood spilled in worship. Religion has always wagered itself in killings.
Commercialized religion thrives. The Bible, written by men, is too often wielded as a mouthpiece for fear. Each denomination shapes its sacred theology to protect its own power. Sacred intimacy, the stillness of encounter, is rarely encouraged. It is easier to build pulpits, boards, and monuments; easier to shout, chant, and perform spirit-filled dramatics than to meet God quietly in the inner room.
- Why we invite God into our lives
- How spiritual intimacy can unravel personal stability
- The questions that guide spiritual direction
- How mystical experience translates into everyday life
The awe of understanding, found in solitude, is itself a divine miracle.
Sexuality
“Normal” has stretched beyond what earlier generations could imagine. Gender, orientation, identity—all reshaped, all debated, all pressed into earlier years. Childhood shrinks while influence accelerates.
“When I started my music career, I was a maid. My mother was a proud janitor. My stepfather worked at the post office, my father was a trashman. They all wore uniforms, and that’s why I wear mine—to honor them. It reminds me I have work to do and people to uplift. I didn’t have to change who I was to become a Cover Girl. I didn’t have to become perfect, because perfection is the enemy of greatness. Embrace what makes you unique, even if it makes others uncomfortable.”
— Janelle Monáe
Inner Voice
Every moment, someone in this vast universe is thinking life-changing thoughts. And always, my inner voice collides with yours. My thought against your thought. My need to prove, to explain, to insist.
But that inner voice, the one that asks and asks, is not only a record of pain. It is also the echo of celebration—proof that to be alive is to wrestle, to wonder, to create.
“Composer, sculptor, painter, poet, prophet, sage—these are the makers of the after-world, the architects of heaven. The world is beautiful because they have lived; without them, laboring humanity would perish.”
— James Allen, As a Man Thinketh
The world is beautiful because we listen to these inner voices. Conflict and confirmation, wound and wonder—they are all part of being.
— Grace
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