self help – Sarah Faith

what i tell myself

no fluff to start this blog, because it’s worth just jumping in. there’s no way to count the number of false things i’ve told myself in this life — stories, lies, opinions… way too many. and that’s not the punchline. that’s not the worst part. the worst part is when i believe them. and that i’m not alone.

it’s been so heavy on my heart this week the absolute number of people that are in this boat. truth is it’s not one that’s floating. it’s a sinking ship. one that we’re apparently willing to drown on. you need to get off the boat. you need to take a leap and get off of the ride. get. off. the. ride.

how many times are we going to wake up and say “man, i wish this looked different,” or, “wouldn’t it be nice if…” but do nothing about it? make absolutely zero effort to walk in that direction. we live in a wild world, but we still don’t live in a world generous enough to just give that vision to us without movement on our part. no matter how crazy it gets out there, i doubt it’ll ever be that philanthropic.

my heart breaks for every single person that wants different, can see different, and chooses a comfortable misery instead of putting forth a 1% better effort to improve their situation. i think you’re making it harder than it is. i think you think you have to have it perfectly figured out. let me be the one that takes your hand and assures you that you’re sorely mistaken. there’s no demand of perfection, you just have to give, try, believe, and let the discouraging thoughts rattling around in your head take a long walk off a short pier. success isn’t the person who gets it all right on the first try. it’s the person that gets it wrong three or four times, then gets it right, and learns a few good lessons along the way. be willing to be wrong. be willing to screw it up.

every day, there are probably thousands of people looking for ways to change their lives… and too many of them see a possibility and write it off immediately for lack of self belief or faith that there’s any reason any of that would ever come true. maybe i’m making this up, and maybe you actually know the reason, so what is it?

let me tell you about lack of self-belief. lack of self-belief is a girl who at the age of seven was abused by her mother. and that’s just the earliest memories. maybe it was earlier. the divorce happened when she was five. her dad started to see the abuse so he started fighting for custody. you would think that battle would have been kind of cut and dry. it’s a pretty simple story when alcohol is involved. but it wasn’t. not at all. the custody battle went on for five years. five long years. multiple attempts. multiple failures. multiple reasons to believe that maybe this is just “how it is” and reasons to give up completely. but the verdict was finally turned.

lack of self-belief is being kicked out of your house by a mother who’s “done fighting” for you, won’t get sober, and thinks the answer is abandoning ship instead of getting clean. lack of self-belief is believing every single story that a teenager creates about herself in the aftermath of this kind of disaster… who’s even considered ending life altogether… and is somehow still here, for some reason.

you see… i am you. i was you. i’ve wanted to quit more times than i can count. but it’s just ultimately not the answer. it’s not the story. it’s not where this plot twists. there’s more to the story. but i realized that it was absolutely, 100% never going to change unless i did. the legacy didn’t magically change. God literally picked me up with own His holy version of the jaws of life and said, “nope, you can’t have this one.”

so… i don’t say “get up, let’s go,” in vain. i don’t say it from a place of unknowing. i know how it feels. i know what it’s like. i know every debilitating detail of a million pounds of anxiety and depression weighing down on you, convincing you there’s no possibility of movement or improvement. and it’s all a lie. it’s an illusion. and the power you get to walk in when you defy every single negative thought that plagues your brain is absolutely indescribable.

permanent? no. cured? not entirely. but the voices weaken. they quiet. they settle. they lose power. they lose steam. the trick is not giving them the ammo or the focus they’re craving. ever tried not thinking of an apple when someone tells you not to think about an apple? your brain doesn’t work in negatives. this gives you the power. you shift your focus, you shift your energy, and the things that try to hold you down lose their grip on your life.

i could literally write about this for 600 more paragraphs… i won’t do that. just know you’re more powerful than you think. braver than you know. and meant for more than you can imagine.

i’d love to help you if i can. if any of these words are helpful, i’m honored to have written them. maybe there’s a leap you can take that would hold your feet to the fire and start this train moving in the right direction. i’m here for the encouragement, if that’s useful to you. <3 do something. move. you’re not a tree. join me. come be in the spaces i like to hang out that help me keep this kind of belief and fire. dark can’t drive out dark – only light can do that.

what does it matter

I’ve been wrestling with this question a lot lately. What does any of it matter?

The world tells us that WE matter, ourselves, taking care of A Number One, me, me, me, me, me, and it’s exhausting. More stuff. More this. More that. More money. Gotta do this, gotta be that, gotta have this thing if you want to be considered part of the “in” crowd. It kind of feels like some crap i used to deal with back in high school. And there’s really no difference then to now, because i didn’t fit in then either.

I was part of the “quality over quantity” friend group aka furthest thing from “popular” that exists – there were maybe 5-10 of us. And we were all in choir. or band. Mega Nerd Alert. And i couldn’t get myself to fit in if i tried – i was into plaid pants, some with chains, some without, red and black everything, fishnet shirts, studded belts, studded bracelets, hats with flames on them… good old fashioned punk goth chick. Lord help me if i ever try and replicate any of that now – sure, my main wardrobe color is black, but i can do without all the metal accessories and flames.

Now that i’m older, i think deep down i still want to believe in quality over quantity, but i just feel like that’s so counter cultural. Everything is more. I’ll be happy when… when i get this, when i make that, when my bank account looks such, when i’m driving X car. And it honestly makes me feel like i missed the boat somewhere. Or that i’m dumb for not being able to figure it out by now. Where did i go wrong? I’m not ungrateful for what i have, i understand that there are people far less fortunate than me, but there are also people that would almost consider it a failure to not be a millionaire by age 30, driving the car of your dreams, living in some seriously fancy digs in a choice neighborhood. Things i desire? Maybe. Things i have? Not quite.

Truthfully, i’ve been gainfully unemployable for well over ten years. I started a photography and videography company back in Michigan way back when after getting out of what i thought was my dream job in college sports followed by my other dream job in graphic design – neither one of them being my dream job, clearly. So i decided to be my own boss. I don’t really think it was ever the work that i was doing that was the problem. It was the people. And it’s not that i don’t play well with others… it’s that i don’t play well with others’ stupid rules. Admit it… Half the rules in corporate America are just dumb. There’s only “one way to do things,” and that was a really hard concept for my plaid-patterned, rebellious soul to grasp.

I still don’t grasp it. I don’t understand the “one way to” anything. Sometimes it makes my path for how things work or the purpose of my life a little more fuzzy because i can’t seem to base my journey on anyone else’s track record, but alas here i am. With an unbelievable pattern of going against the grain and no promise of that changing anytime soon.

More than anything, my brain keeps wrestling with the question: what’s it all for? What’s the purpose of chasing numbers, views, followers, money, influence – what do i gain out of all these “friends,” most of whom i’ll likely never meet…? And the speed at which i’m expected to get there… maybe some of that is self-imposed, because the comparison that results from these things is sometimes too much to even quantify… but if i had it my way some days, i’d have all the deepest desires of my heart to my exact specifications, and i’d have them tomorrow. Scratch that. Yesterday. Because society told me that when i get them, i’ll be happy. Or happier. I’m not sure exactly which.

On second thought… i’m actually pretty sure that none of that works out the way “they” tell us at all, and i can be just about as equally certain that it’s mostly the exact opposite. Sometimes i think “they” could a dash of wisdom.

All the time that i’ve spent chasing bigger, more, better… hasn’t actually yielded proportional happiness in any regard. There’s no real lasting joy at the end of that tunnel. It’s cool for a minute… but then you just want to do it again. But bigger. Which… don’t get me wrong, it’s fine to have desires and goals in life, but it’s also good to humble yourself every once in a while and ask yourself what’s actually going to last in this world…? What’s the purpose… if and when i got all those things i’m dreaming of, will i truly be happier? Will i be more fulfilled? Or, my favorite question of them all, which was prompted recently during my reading of To Hell With The Hustle by Jefferson Bethke (highly recommend, by the way…), “who am i becoming in the process?”

When we die, there’s a chance that someone will remember us for a generation or two, but then poof. You’re gone. Your name fades. It’s all gone. And nothing that you earned, nothing you have, none of that means a thing to anyone else once you’re gone. You can store up all of the possessions in the world, earn all the trophies, all the gold records, all the bling, everything you ever hoped for… and maybe your kids will fight over it when you go, but really, it’s all just “stuff” and a lot of it ends up in the dump. (i know that sounds harsh, but unfortunately i’m speaking from experience…) and the only thing that actually matters is who you became along the way.

When i’ve got more success on my mind, why do i want it? For my own glory? What’s the point in that? When i’m desiring more money, why is that a thing? So i can grow my bank account? Buy myself another pair of Doc Martens? Would that really make me cooler? Happier? More joyful? No. Quite likely not. May any of the growth i want or desire have a lot more to do with making the world i live in a better place than advancing my own personal kingdom. I like nice things just as much as the next girl, but all that shiny stuff fades, the excitement of your latest achievement dies, and we’re left with the relationships we created and how we treated others. What the heck would a killer music career or thriving business do for me if i had no one to share it with?

To this i say: Quality (of faith, relationships, and life) over quantity (of money and status and stuff).

It’s hard for me to want to spend precious time on this planet trying to prove my worth through earnings and things. By showing how much better i am than other people at anything. I just want to be a positive life force on this planet that proves that your circumstances don’t dictate your joy. Your faith does. Your soul does. Your ability to humble yourself, not take stuff so seriously, and look on the bright side every once in a while does. That hurrying up to get ahead may not be all that it’s cracked up to be. That there’s a lot more value and joy in spending time with people you love instead of shooing them away, lost somewhere in chasing social media trends and buying a bunch of unnecessary crap on Amazon.

Do i feel pressured to do so? Every single day. It is maddening. It is haunting. It is one of the hardest things for me in my current season because i don’t want to want it. I don’t want to look in the lane next to me, see someone achieving things that i’d also love for myself, and wish my life was different. I don’t want to wish i was further along. I don’t want to wish for more money, more influence, more business, more listeners, more view on my latest reel, more anything…. All so i can take pictures of it and have a better looking feed or highlight reel. But i sometimes do. Too often. Because i’m a human. And i do a lot of super annoying, dumb human-y things.

All i’m saying… is it’s ok to not want what “they” want or have. Who are “they,” anyway? Are “they” happier? Are “they” healthier? How’s their faith? How’s their family life? And if you’ve only seen it on Instagram, i bet objects in mirror aren’t quite what they appear. Give yourself a break, friend. And i’m speaking to myself here, too. Give yourself some dang grace. Write it in your journal. Say a prayer. And find some gratitude. Things are happening “for” you, not “to” you, and above all, it’s our responsibility to monitor our character and the person we are becoming in the process.

♥, SF

dear self,

October 7, 2020 by Sarah Faith

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choose your legacy, meaningful music, mental health, mindset, mindset work, self care, self empowerment, self help, self love, self talk

the first letter to me, from me.

you know, it’s ok to not be ok. we’re all humans and sometimes we just have days when we’re not 100%. you don’t have to beat yourself up about it.

you don’t have to take everyone else’s opinion so seriously. shit, you don’t owe a single second to their opinion if it doesn’t serve you. none of this is really up to them anyway.

maybe it would be fun to try thinking for one whole day that you were a fucking epic creation. maybe it wouldn’t feel like you were being cocky or self-centered. maybe it would feel like you were just actually being yourself for once. beautiful, loud, outlandish, creative, vibrant, a little crazy, full of joy and energy, just the way you were created to be. just a thought.

you’re going to make it. even if you were stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing left to your name but the shirt on your back and the shoes on your feet, you would figure out how to make it. what are you afraid of?

just because it doesn’t work out just like you think it should, doesn’t mean it’s not working. don’t you think it’s a little small minded to think that you have the master plan anyway? the master plan is controlled by someone much higher than you – no offense. you probably don’t want it to work out the way you planned anyway – there are much greater things in store. things you can’t even imagine. outcomes you never considered.

your dreams and aspirations are far from stupid, far from impossible, far from worthless. whatever visions were put in your head and heart are For you – chase them.

think back to a time when you were So Full of Joy, you could hardly contain yourself. do more of that.

resting isn’t for lazy people. it’s for smart people. running yourself to the ground seems like a great thing to do, until you’re actually in the ground, unable to move, unable to dream, unable to chase because you ran too hard. it’s a marathon; not a sprint.

there are trees, and rivers, and mountains, and sunrises, and sunsets, and oceans, and animals, and canyons, and a thousand other amazingly beautiful things in this earth. the same Creator that made all of that… also made You. don’t sell yourself short. you were made to fly and shine and be. you were made for this. whatever your “this” is…. whatever makes you feel like you’re the best version of yourself. that’s who you were created to be. don’t you dare put yourself in a small box. don’t you dare be afraid to take up all your space in this world. you’re the only you this planet has ever and will ever have.

♥,

SF