Ana at Deep Inside My Broom Closet and ONe PiNK FiSH at perfectly pagan both posted about a little tradition started by Ali Edwards in 2007. The idea is to choose a single word on which to focus for the entire year. Edwards writes: “Essentially the idea is to choose a word (or let it choose you) that has the potential to make an impact on your life.”

When I came across Ana’s post, I commented thusly:

The word that keeps throwing itself at me is FAITH. I’m reluctant to use it, maybe because I can’t help but picture the word “blind” in front of it. But it won’t let go of its hold on me, so I’ll let myself sit with it for a while and see where it takes me.

I wrote that about a week ago. Since then, I’ve had a weird relationship with the concept of faith.

I’ve hinted that things between Leo and me are shaky. I wish I could say more, but I can’t. What I can say is that my faith in the strength of our relationship was blind for a long, long time. I needed to believe that our love was special, unbreakable. I was terrified to take a good look at what was really happening between us. Ignorance wasn’t bliss, but it was better than abject terror.

I feel like we’ve hit bottom in a lot of ways, but that bottom isn’t as scary as it might have been. Neither one of us can say for sure what will happen, but we’re both being completely honest and sensitive with one another, balancing our desire to please and/or avoid conflict with our true needs and concern for the health of our family.

For a while last week, I felt like my faith was being eroded. I felt my world slipping out from under me, leaving me spinning in a void. Funny how moments like those cause hard truths to bonk one over the head. I’ve begun trying to look at things differently, for my own sanity as well as for Leo’s sake. I realize that I have to let go of defensiveness and desperation. I have to allow space and time for healing to take place. I need to be patient, without relinquishing my own need for contact.

I need to have a new kind of faith… faith in myself. No matter what happens, I will survive. I’ll be alright. I may experience loneliness, depression, anxiety, and anger, but I will also have pleasure and friendship and emotional growth. No matter what, I won’t stop living.

That doesn’t change what I want, or my fear that I won’t be able to have it. But it does change the quality of my faith from something that depends on others (e.g. Leo) to something that depends on me. That’s reason enough to make it the focus of my year.