Do you believe in things you can not see?
I have always considered faith to be just that: belief that does not require tactile proof. This is an area where I find myself very conflicted. My experience with religion makes me ever so suspect of it. While I never would go so far to say there is unequivocally no way god exists — none of us have any way of knowing for certain — I lean ever so much in this direction.
But religion does not hold a monopoly on faith. It is possible to have faith in people doing the right thing, whatever that maybe. Most people enjoy the faith that they will wake up tomorrow. Etc, etc… It permeates all aspects of our life.
Recently I have been confronted with the idea that if I do not believe something can help me, it won’t. I have to blindly accept that something may help, possibly without understanding or even comprehending why. This goes against pretty much all my critical thinking prowess. It is a known fact that I am an over-thinker. I dissect things layer by layer making sure they make sense and are logical. Faith sort of loses out in this gambit.
But, after the shock of my diagnosis wore off, I promised myself I would try anything that might help. And well, It seems having faith is one of those things.
Perhaps you can see just how much this conflict brews inside of me. In case you are wondering, we are talking industrial strength peculator here.
So I started to ruminate and explore my relationship with faith and what it actually means to me. It started as a way to try and fit in other treatment options, but to be honest it has become a bit of a mental obsession since.
See, one of the things I discovered was that I know exactly where and when I lost my faith to begin with. Not religious faith (that died pretty much before it got started), but faith in others and myself. I even know the date: August 21st, 1985. I was ten.
I am not saying I was not losing it slowing before this, but it suffocated irrecoverably, completely this day. This is the day that my parents committed me to a mental “hospital”. If you do not know the story behind this, lets just say attempted matri/patricide does not go over well.
It never goes over well, not even in the halcyon days of laissez faire, anything goes 1985.
I am not saying I was right to try and push people over a proverbial cliff, but when no one believed why I lashed out in such a way and the solution was imprisonment in a mental ward where things like imagination were severely punished, lets just say having faith in just about anything is nigh impossible.
Now I am finding that once faith has expired, it seemingly takes a miracle to resuscitate it. And yes, I am not blind to the immense irony in that statement. Just how can a faithless person ever hope to recognize a true miracle? I mean really?
But I know CPR. I have even successfully used CPR. So I know pulling something back from beyond is not impossible. Now I must breathe life into something that is nearly 26 years gone.
Once upon a time, I would never have tried. I would never have even been contemplating this. But that time has passed. And over time I will chronicle my attempts here to reconnect with my wayward bus of faith here. I have no idea if it will work. But I hope it does….