FAITH MONTH: DAY 11: “There’s a reason we refer to “leaps of faith” – because the decision to consent to any notion of divinity is a mighty jump from the rational over to the unknowable, and I don’t care how diligently scholars of every religion will try to sit you down with their stacks of books and prove to you through scripture that their faith is indeed rational; it isn’t. If faith were rational, it wouldn’t be – by definition – faith.” –Elizabeth Gilbert
We all have faith in something. I have faith that the sun will shine again, even when it rains for several days at a time. As much as I dislike gray, cloudy, or rainy weather, I know the sun will be back to warm my bones and the air.
I have faith that the ocean will continue to move in waves, all over the globe, regularly and repeatedly. It gives me peace to know that there is something I do not have to worry about controlling. I also have faith that my heart will beat until it stops and that my lungs will continue to breathe in air and breathe out the toxins my body doesn’t require.
I have faith that darkness of night will turn into morning, that the moon will rise and give way to the sun. That the waxing and waning of the moon will continue without my direction or control. Life will continue. People will die, babies will be born.
These things inform me of the way of the Universe. What is problematic, at least for me, for so long was the place I held in this Universal perfection. I truly believed that there was a huge cosmic mistake being made and I was terrified of the penalties that were going to be exacted for my part in the charade.
I knew I was a phony. There was no question about it. I pretended to know what life was about and that I had it down. I pretended to love and live and, meanwhile, drank and drugged all the time to cover up my terror of all of it.
I KNEW that the Universe KNEW all about me, so I ran from one thing to another, looking for a hiding spot from the God of my childhood, the mean one who was going to have revenge for my pretense and the sham that was my life.
Today I understand the terror. It was because the God of my childhood was a real ASSHOLE. First of all, he was created in the image of every bully I had ever met, by people who had no love in their hearts. He was created to control and manipulate me and everyone else to believe we were “chosen”, which I still don’t get; that we were the elite, the best; BUT we had to adhere to a strict dogma that made no sense to me then and still does not.
Yes, I can see how not murdering people makes sense. Yes, I can see that there are things I probably should not do if I want to live a spiritual life. BUT, there is NO sense in the rules and restrictions placed on me.
Nor, is there any sense in believing that any one group of spiritual people is being punished for their beliefs. If I grasp it correctly, there are people all over the world who are amazing and live life with devotion, honor, truth, and integrity; but, according to the dogma I got, are doomed to hell. This would include The Dalai Lama, Ghandi, Martin Luther King Jr., Thich Nhat Hanh, so many truly world-class spiritual teachers. I cannot accept this shit!
So, I learned to eschew this teaching I had crammed down my throat. The most interesting part of this is that I never believed it anyway. I just did my best to adhere. Then I rebelled in a most wonderful way! I studied, I sought, I drank, I drugged.
And one day, it all blew up and I found the pieces all over the place. And rather than pick them up and try to reassemble them, I saw that there was a magnificence and grandeur to the huge mess it all was. And I heard from a woman who was sitting with me as I detoxed about the God she had found in the rooms of recovery, the great love she received and felt from this God. And I let that inform me that maybe there was something else.
And I had a great deal of respect for this God of hers. Because of who SHE was. Because of her kindness and her softness and her gentleness. And the generosity of her allowing me to use her God as well. That was the beginning of a powerful “leap of faith”. And the pieces reassembled themselves and the journey into faith began. It is a long road, and one that is a privilege to walk. And I love it almost every day!
Dolphin Hug 