Reflections on Faith, clairvoyance and Bad Habits
Returning to the city, I’m surprised by the sense of joy that seems to have come with me, a joy I didn’t know I had. Lately, I’ve been examining my faith, questioning what it truly means to me, and exploring how it fits into my life. This has been a deeply personal journey, and it’s brought me a unique clarity that feels almost like clairvoyance—a heightened awareness that has me looking inward, more than ever, to understand my values and beliefs.
As I walk this path, I’ve found myself seeking connections with people around my age, people I can talk to about the questions I’m wrestling with. It’s challenging because I don’t have close friends who share a religious inclination. I’ve started attending a local sermon recap group on Monday nights, and it has been a lifeline. Here, I’m surrounded by others who are exploring their own faith journeys, and I feel a real sense of freedom to ask questions, share thoughts, and even express doubts without fear of judgment. This space has been incredibly affirming—not only in building my faith but also in strengthening my self-confidence. Being around others who are on similar paths has made me feel less alone, and for the first time, I’m seeing faith as something that can be deeply communal.
I’m aware that I can be my own harshest critic. It’s something people point out to me often, saying I’m too hard on myself and that I should allow more grace. But I genuinely enjoy pushing my limits. I get caught in this cycle of self-critique, partly because I want to grow and improve, yet it’s a cycle that feels unrelenting at times. Breaking away from old habits is a constant battle, and some days, I just want to throw in the towel and slip back into familiar patterns. There are moments, like now as I sit here writing, when I feel an intense urge to succumb to the old ways . But I keep reminding myself that I don’t want to live shackled to these impulses. If I’m to reach the goals I have—those grand, ambitious dreams—I know I have to resist the pull of old habits.
Just this past Wednesday, I went for a walk with a friend who is Christian. We talked about faith, and I found myself realizing that I can be quite judgmental. During our conversation, I said a few things that made me cringe afterward—things that felt true to me, yet perhaps came off as harsh. I judged her choices, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a wave of regret. This experience has taught me something essential: people seek our opinions, but only to the extent that those opinions align with their own sense of truth. They want to be led to insights but not necessarily confronted with them. I’ve always seen myself as a blunt person, someone who cuts through the nonsense to get to the heart of things. But I’m beginning to see that there’s an art to truth-telling, a skill in delivering difficult messages gently. I want to refine this skill, to speak with clarity but also with empathy. It reminds me of the power of storytelling—how effective it can be to communicate through narrative, rather than blunt declarations. I’m learning that the delivery matters as much as the message itself.
_"Whoever restrains his words has knowledge, and he who has a cool spirit is a man of understanding. Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise: when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent." - Proverbs 17:27-28_
After returning from a recent trip to Charlotte, I had a deep conversation with my friend Jared at a local coffee shop. We talked about life, faith, and the importance of presence. Jared’s company has a grounding effect on me; when I’m with him, I feel a profound sense of calm and presence, almost a euphoria. It’s a feeling I want to carry into my life as I pursue a clear mind and a steady heart. These experiences, these people, they’ve each played a part in my ongoing journey of self-discovery. And as I continue to seek clarity, I’m finding that my faith, my relationships, and even my struggles are helping me shape a life that feels authentically mine.