That Quiet Place, Deep in Your Mind, Reserved for Uncomfortable Thoughts
Sometimes I am sent into these moods where my mind is so consumed by something powerful that I read or hear that I almost cannot believe how much I was touched by it. Not ten minutes ago Matt posted his latest blog entry about faith, inspired by a cello version of a hymn that he already loves. I’m almost in tears just having read it. It makes me think about a lot of different things, and it makes me think hard. One of them, undoubtedly one of the more potentially negative things (mainly because it’s composed of self-doubt), is how I react to the faith of others, what goes through my mind. I know that as far as I know, consciously I am open-minded about religion, and I try very hard not to judge others on what they believe. However, whenever I start to think about it, I’m terribly afraid that somewhere, deep inside of me, I’m not nearly as free of skepticism as I think I am. I’m afraid that I’m secretly a person who scorns the beliefs of others just because I’m not sure what I believe. I’ve never been sure, and because of that, I sometimes feel incredibly bewildered and self-doubting. I feel like there’s something amazing that I can’t perceive, something that I’m missing, because I don’t currently have the ability to believe without seeing. Many of my friends and family can and do.
I hate feeling like there is something out there that I will never understand and never fully appreciate or participate in.
I don’t know if I can blame it on a lack of religious influence in my childhood, because when I think about it, there are many people who grew up going to church that didn’t believe, or fell out of believing, but then somehow got back into it again. My grandmother was one of them, and she is one of the most devout people that I have ever met.
In fact, my sister has found faith in the past few years, and she grew up in the same environment that I did. I can’t use that lack of a religious background as a crutch, no matter how much simpler it makes it to explain to myself. Perhaps I simply don’t have the right mindset. Perhaps I will always be someone who cannot believe what has not been proven, no matter that a lack of proof is one of the major points of faith. In fact, that almost the definition of religious faith.
One thing is certain, however. I cannot simply make it happen, no matter how much I may want to. It has to come to me. I can learn about all of the religions in the world, go on pilgrimages to different religious centers in all parts of the globe, and unless I experience something incredibly profound on one of those pilgrimages, or unless something happens to me to plant that seed, then none of it will make one iota of difference. I just have to wait, like everyone else.
That’s what makes it so hard.
