late at night, the ghosts don't come
I miss Jerusalem sometimes. I miss the view east over the Judean Desert. I have imagined that if I were faced with some illness sure to result in a painful and imminent death, I would settle my affairs and fly to Jerusalem and walk east.
This is the constant struggle within me. I believe there is something in that desert, but I know there is not. Or is it the other way around? I am not sure. Part of me wants to believe in ghosts and part of me does not. And part of me thinks the reason I don't believe in them is because I have never seen one and that the reason I have never seen one is because I don't believe in them.
It is childish of me to be writing of ghosts. I don't believe in anything invisible and perhaps the invisibility is my lack of belief.
So what's it take, huh? I've stepped backwards off of a mountain entwining my life with my faith in the rope in my hands. But I saw a reason to do it. Every place I look now, I see no reason.
Is it simply a salve? A win-win gamble? Live with faith in something rather than nothing and reap the benefits both now and the if and when? I just can't.
I was asked recently how I could live without it. A sincere, curious and pained question it was. I answered flippantly but wanting to describe the increasingly frequent occasions necessitating willing myself to remain conscious when in the presence of large groups of people.
My belief wavers and wanes like the rest.
This is the constant struggle within me. I believe there is something in that desert, but I know there is not. Or is it the other way around? I am not sure. Part of me wants to believe in ghosts and part of me does not. And part of me thinks the reason I don't believe in them is because I have never seen one and that the reason I have never seen one is because I don't believe in them.
It is childish of me to be writing of ghosts. I don't believe in anything invisible and perhaps the invisibility is my lack of belief.
So what's it take, huh? I've stepped backwards off of a mountain entwining my life with my faith in the rope in my hands. But I saw a reason to do it. Every place I look now, I see no reason.
Is it simply a salve? A win-win gamble? Live with faith in something rather than nothing and reap the benefits both now and the if and when? I just can't.
I was asked recently how I could live without it. A sincere, curious and pained question it was. I answered flippantly but wanting to describe the increasingly frequent occasions necessitating willing myself to remain conscious when in the presence of large groups of people.
My belief wavers and wanes like the rest.
posted by sparklestone at 11:20 PM
2 Comments:
Something tells me (maybe it was the phone call), that this might be directed at me.
I don't really know what to say, only that I have faith that your struggle with faith is entirely meaningful, that it is significant, and that it is exactly what you are here to do. That and to get aggravated with people who choose faith over logic, or in spite of fact.
And if you didn't struggle with faith, you wouldn't be you. And if I didn't worry that your struggles cause you too much pain, than I wouldn't be me.
The pinnacle of my faith, or truth, or my relationship with the big G- is that we are here for a purpose and we make choices in our lives that bring us closer or further from this purpose, and that this struggle, unfortunately for the aggravation it causes you, is part of yours.
It's good to know that you don't believe in radiation, microwaves, or the tooth fairy. That's the mark of true genius for certain.
We should chat sometime about where our faith has gone since we met. I'm certain we've both moved a little in one direction or the other.
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