He leaned across the table toward me and repeated from under his raised eyebrows: “blind faith?”. And I sat back a little, somewhat surprised to hear the words we were both saying, then nodded my head (as if simply in agreement with his assertion), and said: “Yep,” laughed, and then, “Some secret, hunh?”
He couldn’t believe either the flippancy of my response (I’m sure he’d been expecting some sage answer, practiced to the point of dissertation), or the lack of any detailed elaboration. I told him, in a fairly vain attempt to console him with earnestly animated, if airy, discourse that I believed everyone proceeds based almost solely on the beliefs they have about life — ergo we all live by virtue of the faith we have in those beliefs. And I think I made that point perhaps too clear (as it was my only follow-up at the time…) with all the remaining time that we spent on the subject. And truth be told, I feel fine with that, as I believe it was enough for both of us at the moment — for me to get to simply claim the whimsical, magical truth of myself in the presence of someone I respect without presenting it in a more “traditionally acceptable” guise; and for him to hear this basic, easy gospel, without the philosophical elaborations or logical justifications that he would expect in such a situation or would wish to explore with his own stellar analytical skills.
It was a message delivered by means of the form of the message itself — a form poem.
Nevertheless, I have realized in the days following that I have a personal philosophy. “Just now realizing he has a personal philosophy?!” you may be saying — and yes, of course, I have had philosophics of my own before — but they were almost always various versions of “the philosophy of juggling concepts”. I remained open to everything. I borrowed from everything. I owned nothing. And now I have claimed something that I now realize is what I have always always in my heart of hearts been most about. I’ve graduated. From my own school.
I’ve also realized, I have a lot more to say about Blind Faith.
I partly-wish I’d had the faculty at the time to tell my friend: “This is just the bedrock, the basic bottom line, the most reduced answer I can give you (just so that we can fit it into the scope of a single conversation…)”. I wish I’d left him with the understanding that my faith that everything will work out is just the beginning. So I’ve decided that I’ll share a bit of what I’ll tell him next time with you for the moment.
To begin with, let’s get the main point straight — I call it Blind Faith, not because I am a fool for it (though I gladly would be, I think), but sincerely because it is the kind of faith that can lead me even in the darkest of moments, the eyes-closed-leap-into-the-abyss kind of moments, the please-help-me-so-I-don’t-go-down kind of moments. At it’s most basic element, it is simply the following in which I have this particular level of belief: That no matter what — no matter what comes, no matter what goes, no matter what befalls, no matter what is revealed — every single thing that happens to any one of us is for our own and everyone else’s highest possible good. Period. Whether it’s war or famine or murder or job-loss or partnership-dissolving or failure or degradation or the opposite of all of these things in any one moment — it is all working toward harmony, not entropy as poor Steven Hawking is mis-convinced. Things do fall, and they do break, and then they become something new — Things do not simply Fall Apart.
So this first, most important piece, is simply to hold (with eyes shut if necessary) onto the firm rock of believing that I am absolutely taken care of — both in life and when I pass through death. Nothing can ultimately hurt me, and nothing is out to cause me harm in this life. And as my friends at Abraham-Hicks say, “There is only a source of Well-Being, which you are allowing, or not.” — there is no source of suffering there is just either our allowance of disallowance of our own joy. And no matter what we are experiencing, there is joy to be had there too!
And this faith, this peace, is simple enough that I can reach for it at any moment. When I am upset, I sigh and remember — everything is working out. When I am frustrated or angry, I huff and remember — even this is is working out for me perfectly. When I am nervous, I remember. When I am utterly lost, I remember. And moment to moment, the remembering becomes belief, the belief slowly grows into knowing, and knowing into experiencing. And when I experience the fruition(s) of my belief — I save and compost its essence to nurture my faith further with the proof and evidence of itself.
Over time, and somewhat without my perceiving it, I have grown a perspective on the world. And as the only point I made to my friend indicated, I know that what we believe about the world and of our lives written through it, is the truth of our experience. The truth is not that “seeing is believing”, but rather that the believing constitutes the seeing. Everything we know about life defines the extent of what we will end up perceiving of it.
We are not discoverers of great truths — we are the forgers of them. We can be, do, and have whatever we can imagine, so long as we know it to be our truth.
We don’t need a system of levers and gears and highways and machinery to move mountains — we don’t even need a strategy or plan. As Jesus (you know the one) is reported to have said: “If you had but faith alone you could move mountains”. I would add further that if we have faith enough, then we will see clearly that the mountain was never in the way at all.
I think I’ll leave that note to resound a bit before I continue. More to come on the effects of Blind Faith on action. Until then…