I have a long history with Lent. Even though we were always a part of protestant denominations, and churches that didn’t have a strong affiliation with the season, my mom always seemed to resonate with it, and as early as my middle school years, we would take on “fasts” together, usually involving giving up chocolate. I remember it always being something of a challenge, and then we would reward ourselves with a crazy chocolate binge on Easter morning.
I broke ties with the church and my religious upbringing when I was 17. I lost all interest in fasts, and became more interested in the pagan history of the church holidays than showing up in any chapel in my Sunday best. It wasn’t until I crash-landed in a small town in Northwest Arkansas that the idea of actually participating in Lent made it’s way back into my awareness.
Now, there wasn’t much to do in this town, not like the bustling metroplex of Denver that I left when I moved to Siloam Springs. All my usual rhythms seemed out of whack, but I was lucky that I found some incredible people who helped me navigate the difficulties of coming out and finding myself. One of the biggest supports I found in this time was my yoga practice. There just happened to be a yoga studio in town that several of my friends went to on a regular basis and after only a couple classed, I found myself drawn to the space as often as the doors were open.
The studio was owned and operated by the wife of the Episcopal priest in town and was nestled cozily in their back yard. Not only was yoga helping me to establish a healthy relationship with my body, it was slowly opening me to a new experience of my spirituality. I was still surprisingly raw around the wounds I had from my time in the church and my time leaving the church (although, I would have never admitted that at the time), and I was certainly wary of anything even slightly resembling the faith of my past. Yoga, though, was something different. It was embodied. It was practical. It was experiential. I was having such powerful experiences in these classes and in my own personal practices that I hardly minded (or even noticed) when the community started talking about a 40 day Lenten practice.
To be honest, I was actually kind of excited about it. So excited, in fact, that I started attending the church services and participating in the planning for our upcoming Lenten Journey. We followed the book 40 Days to Personal Revolution by Baron Baptiste and committed to daily yoga and meditation practices. We also took on the challenge of an intense cleanse based on the book Clean by Alejandro Junger. I was new to the idea that Lent could be about adding a practice instead of or in addition to fasting from something you usually do or eat, but I was thrilled to be engaging in a time of such intentional change with a community I felt so connected to.
I consider that Lenten season to be one of the most transformational seasons of my life, and since that time Lent has had a special place in my heart. I’m sort of freaking out because I just did the math and realized that this Lent marks ten years since that first transformational journey. Yikes! And it feels especially timely that I’m coming to Lent this year with a newfound understanding of what Lent is actually for.
I’ve always resonated with the season of Lent, much more so than with Advent. Lent is a challenge! It’s testing your mettle against the elements, the wilderness! Advent always felt too much like just waiting around, but that’s for another post. I always gravitated to Lent because I enjoyed the process of becoming what I wanted to be. Testing, purifying, cleansing, all of these made immediate sense to me. But this year is different. The personal and spiritual work I’ve been undertaking these last several months has highlighted some seriously damaging unconscious beliefs about myself, the nature of the world, and God.
A few months ago, with the support of some trusted teachers, I came to the devastatingly harsh realization that somewhere deep down, I don’t believe I deserve good things. Now, I’m not someone who would identify themselves as having low self-esteem. I wouldn’t say I suffer from a lack of confidence (in fact, most times I’m suffering from the opposite!), but this believe was still there, deeply unconscious and actually running most of my life. It showed up as a belief that I only deserved the struggle, the fight, the challenge. Of course I wouldn’t have ever said that out loud, but my life was screaming it from the rooftops. I was always pushing myself to the brink in every area of my life, and that lifestyle was becoming less and less sustainable.
Seeing this belief and how much it was directing and controlling the things I thought, felt, and did was really earth shattering for me. It’s called into question most of the ways I’ve operated in my life, and has opened me to the very real possibility that I could do something different. Lent always made sense because I believed that I needed to do something more to be worthy of connection with the Divine. The fasting or the practices where a way to purify or cleanse me of the parts that I felt made me unworthy.
With all this internal work going on in my head and heart lately, I honestly wasn’t sure I would do anything for Lent this year. But just a couple days ago I was journalling and wrote that I was open to something if it made sense and made itself clear. And of course, within ten minutes a fast and a practice made themselves abundantly clear. I needed to fast from my phone. The idea had been rolling around in my head for months, and while I have had some success using app blockers and the like, the need for a more intentional fast became crystal clear. In addition to that, a practice was presented to be through a book I was reading. It’s beautiful in it’s simplicity: look at the sky everyday for 40 days. I was already wanting to spend more intentional time outside, and thought that would be a good practice, but when I read about the sky practice I knew that was exactly what I needed.
But if I’m working on my sense of worthiness, how could I put myself through the cleansing and purifying process of Lent? Isn’t that just feeding the same bullshit I’ve been trying to let go of? This is where things got interesting for me. There’s a very real reason I’ve been wanting to fast from my phone. I’ve seen how damaging and detrimental my screen addiction has become for my work, my relationships, and my personal/spiritual growth. I’ve seen first hand how much my life has improved even with just a small amount of guard rails on my screen time. And there’s the key: taking time away from my phone makes my life better. Is it inconvenient, yes at times, but the convenience of my phone has taken away so much richness of my life. And I deserve that richness, I am worthy of the life I have when my face isn’t glued to a screen.
This shift seems subtle, so subtle that it can feel somewhat difficult to articulate, but here’s my best shot at it: I’m not taking on this fast or these practices to make myself worthy. I am taking these things on to claim the rich and abundant life I’m already worthy of.
People who know themselves to be worthy, live into that worthiness. They act in ways that improve their lives and don’t have any sense of guilt or internal angst about it. They can celebrate the wins. They can work hard for themselves and those they care about, but they can also rest. As I’ve been pondering these thoughts, my own underlying sense of unworthiness has come into sharp focus. I’m always pushing and fighting, clawing my way into something I want, but once I get there I can’t accept it, I move right on to the next fight. I don’t want this Lenten season have this same sense of fight. I want to take on these practices because they will improve my life, they will bring me closer to my family, friends, community, and the Divine. They will give me a deeper sense of focus, purpose, intention, and connection—and I deserve all of those things.
So, whether you’re adopting a practice for Lent, or fasting from something, or both, or neither, I invite you to investigate the why. Can you look at your life and see the underlying motivation for your actions? Is this motivation helping you create the life you want? If not, what could you do instead?
I look forward to taking this 40 day journey and bringing you all along for the ride!
Loved this post Abi!
I engaged in fasting quite a bit while I was at the peak of my "stay in the closet at all costs" time. What I didn't realize at the time was that "all costs" included my heart. I was denying myself so I could be the person other people wanted me to be, instead of the person I was made to be.
I've done Lent a few times since. In years past, I've given up things like social media, coffee, and at the suggestion of my friend Marc, my Instant Pot! I was surprised by each time how I enjoyed it all.
But I'll admit: That first coffee on Easter... *mindblown*
This year, Lent is not for me. But I may pick it up again some year in the future!
This resonated with me:
"It showed up as a belief that I only deserved the struggle, the fight, the challenge."
I just had a conversation yesterday regarding Enneagram Eights and how we can be distracted or pulled off-focus by challenges, and the person I was chatting with said, "If it's not hard, is it even worth having?" She was sort of joking, but she was also acknowledging that this feels like something common in Eights, even though we're all typically seen as people who have an overabundance of confidence.
As for Lenten practices, I'm currently almost a month into a yoga practice that I started thanks to two readings of your "The Conscious Enneagram" and my growing understanding that my body is so full of unreleased tension that yoga could probably help with. So for Lent I'm going to make that practice even more deliberate, and you've been instrumental in that! Thank you!