Certainty is such a tough concept. What are we really certain of, ever? Certain of the ground under our feet? Hardly, we live in California where the land shifts and sways without warning. What is steady and known carries the potential to be upended at any moment. Certain of the seasons? Not really anymore – with summer overlapping angrily and determinedly into fall and often winter. Seasons have become droughts in spring, wildfires in summer, smoke in fall, flooding in winter – a twisted reflection of how the demand for certainty has driven man to destroy his very home.
Let’s go closer in…am I even certain of my existence? Not clear – if I’m a whirling ball of light and energy am I any different then the waves in the ocean or the light that travels from the sun to warm my face and neck? Would we call that existence? If we are made up of 99.9% empty space, is this is all just a silly permutation of human perception? Well, then, am I certain of the force that makes up the universe and all that is bigger than I am – no. Am I certain of change – sort of. Am I certain of love – maybe.
I guess the question is why bother being certain of anything at all? Maybe the key is trust – trust over certainty…faith over knowing. That’s a horse pill to swallow, but maybe that’s what we have to do. Put aside what we can see and touch to reach what we can’t perceive.
Where is faith – if I stop to sense it, it’s there. Faith is carried in the way my boys turn over in the morning to bury their faces in the folds of my robes when I wake them. It’s instinctual, how they search to find my chest and curl into a ball…baby-like in these tender moments, where they will be all legs and big ideas once the sun is fully up. Faith is in the sweet way my man looks at me as we lie in bed. The clean rise and fall of his body’s curves – strong and sensual. Faith is my desperate attempt to internalize that this man chose me to spend his life with him. Faith is knowing that we choose each other every day, taking steps forward on this journey – jostling against each other, grasping for each other – knowing that we will be there each time one of us reaches out. Faith is rises in the dough I fashion and drips out of the dishes that I create to nourish this little family of mine. Ingredients go in and through the miracle of chemistry and black magic, something greater than the sum of the parts emerges. These key elements allow our bodies to expend energy and transform into something greater than the sum of our own parts.
And faith shows up each time I feel lost and confused, staring like a deer in the headlights at whatever fracture appears in front of me. I’m speechless, paralyzed – and then an ache inside reminds me that I have all the answers I need. That I can tap into the glorious light of my ancient guides and relax knowing that I will pick the right path. I ask, and they are there – they are always there – steady, gentle, calm. Beckoning me to follow the path of love and joy.
Faith is me – all of these moments of faith are my uncertain existence. They are the seasons that shift all around me as I move through the summer of my own life. They are the steady terra firma under my swift feet. Breath in the faith – exhale the fear – and I will know.
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