Audiobook coming soon of In My Gut I Don’t Believe

I am delighted that the audiobook of my memoir In My Gut I Don’t Believe will be published shortly. I feel it’s an important part of my legacy, showing my life’s lesson. I learned, the hard way, that I needed to make decisions for myself – not accept decisions about my life made by others.

I learned that nobody knows me better than I know myself. I learned to trust myself – my hunches, thoughts, feelings and gut feelings. I learned to make and act on the basis of my honest judgement – not the decisions of others. I learned to stand alone.

I extracted myself from my old pattern of shelving my opinions and judgements because I gave undue respect to the opinions of others. I learned the importance of Aesop’s tale about the father, the son and the donkey: we should not act on the basis of other people’s judgements but only on ours.

Learning that very hard lesson, I made the biggest decision of my life when I was 27. I left my priestly path, even though I was only six months or so away from being ordained a priest. I became free. I learned to cast off the ideas that had influenced my life from childhood and I began to trust my doubt.

Trusting your doubt is the origin of wisdom. Attending to doubt is what brings about discovery – in science and in our personal lives. Doubt is wisdom. Doubt is your inner wisdom, whispering to you that you are bigger and better than the fairytales you were taught to believe were true.

I walked through glass – metaphorically. Leaving behind my self-containment. I learned to accept myself as I am. I grew beyond the myths that I had been taught were true: they were not true. I learned to base my life on what I knew, not on silly beliefs, which remain silly regardless of how many people believe in them.

Where are believers in Odin now? Where are the believers in the Greek and Celtic gods? They are few and far between. Yet their beliefs are as far-fetched and nonsensical as the beliefs of the current fashionable religions of our day. Today’s religions, cults and deities will go the way of the Norse, Greek and Celtic gods.

Don’t spend your life believing in myth. Trust your doubt. Trust yourself. Live your one and only life to the full.

In My Gut, I Don’t Believe: A Memoir by Joe Armstrong

My memoir, In My Gut, I Don’t Believe, will be published on 19 December.

It has been 25 years in the making. I’m proud of it and a bit scared about its publication. Honesty is the best policy, and I have been honest, very honest. I wrote things in my personal journal while I was a student for the priesthood that were for my eyes only. Yet, on 19 December, much of what I thought would never be read by anyone else other than perhaps my spiritual director will be in plain sight for anyone to read.

If a book is to be any good, especially a memoir, the author has to become vulnerable. Well, I did. So my apprehension is, I think, a good sign. I feel a bit like I felt some 30 years ago when I was leaving the Marists. You make a decision and there is no going back.

What kept me for so long in the Marists was my ability to see 360 degrees of any issue I faced. Even the week or so before I finally left, my mind could still glimpse another interpretation of my life – the religious one. Called by God. Remaining true to your vocation. Sacrificing yourself.

In my mind, I really could see both sides. And my cure was to get out of my head and into my gut.

‘In your gut,’ asked my counsellor. ‘What do you believe in your gut?’

It was the turning point of my life. A scary prospect. Was I to determine my life, not on my mind, but on the solution offered me in my gut?

Then, as now, it was scary. Literally, I could have been making the biggest mistake of my life, leading to my unhappiness and a lifetime of regret.

Decide on the basis of my gut?

What was ingenious about my counsellor’s question was that my gut doesn’t give a damn about what anybody else thinks. My gut isn’t swayed by other people’s opinions. My gut, it turns out, knew the answer.

You can get the book here