Linguistic Exercises: On Trust, Faith, and Letting Go

Once, a man was walking near a cliff and fell. As he was falling, he managed to grab onto the branch of a small tree growing out of a crack in the rock. Hanging from the branch, shaken by the cold wind, the man realized the full hopelessness of his situation: below him were river stones covered with moss, and there was no way to climb back up. His hands, gripping the branch, began to grow numb.

“Well,” he thought to himself, “only God can save me now. I have never believed in God, but perhaps I was wrong. What do I have to lose?”

So he cried out:

“God, if You exist, save me and I will believe in You!”

There was no reply. He cried out again:

“Please, God! I have never believed in You, but if You save me now, I will believe immediately!”

Suddenly, a Great Voice resounded from the clouds:

“Oh no, you will not believe.”

The man almost let go of the branch in surprise.

“Please, God! You are wrong! I truly mean it. I will believe!”

“Oh no, you will not believe. Everyone says that.”

The man continued to pray and to persuade. Finally, God said:

“All right. I will save you… Let go of the branch!”

“Let go of the branch?” the man exclaimed. “Do you take me for a fool?”

You may know this story. I recently told it during one of my consultations. The woman I was working with was struggling with fears related to a deep sense of insecurity. She had recently lost one of her parents, who had been a source of support in her life. Around the same time, she had ended a relationship with a man who had also been a source of support. And now, her work situation had become unstable as well. The material world beneath her feet had begun to seriously shake.

She was someone who believed in the soul and in God, so I asked her what exactly these beliefs looked like for her. Her answer was that they were merely linguistic exercises without any practical value, and that she preferred some “other kinds of exercises.” Thus, although she had her inner dialogues with God, her faith in Him remained at the level of language. For her, as for many others, reflections on this topic were too abstract and devoid of practical meaning.

The problem is that our beliefs are the mediators between us and what happens to us in life. Exploring them is precisely the core subject of cognitive psychotherapy. Stephen Covey calls them the “glasses” through which we see the world. They determine how we react to events and how we interpret them. They are the invisible yet very real “substance” from which our everyday decisions are woven.

This is why I asked her that question – in order to explore her beliefs and identify those that were making her feel anxious and insecure, and then to replace them with beliefs that offer solutions. In her case, beliefs arising from her relationship with a Source that lies beyond her personal zone of control and influence.

I view excessive anxiety as a sign of spiritual awakening – as a result of the growing realization that the decisive factors in what happens to us lie beyond our control. This is why only a spiritual approach to life can truly help us cope with it. This is also why, at a certain point in my life, I began to make important decisions with the help of such “linguistic exercises.”

For example, when I decided that I wanted to leave my job. For a long time I searched for alternatives, but none appeared. I kept going to work while inwardly becoming drier and more unhappy. Then I read one of Denise Linn’s books, in which she tells the story of her breast cancer. As a healer herself, she decided to retreat into the mountains to understand what the illness was trying to tell her. The question she asked herself was: “What would I do if I only had a few months left to live? What is the one thing I deeply want to do but have not done yet?” When she heard the answer, she stopped postponing. After all, she had only a few months left to live. When the time came for her medical check-up, the doctors were astonished to find that there was no trace of the cancer left.

I no longer remember her exact words at the end of that story. What stayed with me was the message: “Dear women, do not postpone for even a minute beginning to do what your heart longs for most.” The next day, I submitted my resignation. I had no safety nets that could guarantee I would find another job. I entered a long period of deep uncertainty, during which I wagged my finger at God and told Him that if He exists, and if He supports those who follow their hearts, He should give me a chance to find “my” work.

And that is exactly what happened. Today, I do the work that fills me from within. My leap into the unknown is my personal proof that the Universe does indeed support those who are willing to let go of the branch. There is, however, one important condition: to be willing to pay the price – which means living with uncertainty, effort, fear, limitations, and deprivation. The solution did not come suddenly, in a magical way. Long months and even years passed before I could feel solid ground beneath my feet.

Yet everything began with letting go of the branch – jumping without knowing whether you will land. You have no guarantees; you only have your linguistic exercises.

This, in my view, is why some people let go of the branch more easily than others. It seems that some people have a lower tolerance for suppressing their authentic self. In the past, I reproached myself for my greater difficulty in adapting to environmental factors. I would say to myself: “How is it that others can tolerate this, while you fall ill from it? What is wrong with you that your tolerance for things others do not even notice is so low?” Now I know: it is precisely this lower tolerance that makes me let go of the branch earlier. My hands grow numb more quickly. From the outside, this may look like courage; from the inside, it feels like the only possible way out.

For me, the parable above is a psychological truth of the highest order. It is my linguistic exercise for making important life decisions and for coping with the inevitable fears that life in a material body brings. I believe that if you manage to understand it with your heart, and not only with your mind, your anxiety will begin to diminish.

Because it is a story about trust in life – and a test of true faith.

Kameliya Hadzhiyska

Psychologist and psychotherapist, founder of espirited.com.
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