OK, so doubt and faith go hand in hand. I can deal with that, not a big concern. Let’s leave the larger issues of greater consequence aside for the moment, for others less vital are more pressing.
In contrast to doubt, the related states of hesitance and uncertainty are quite distinct, incredibly unbecoming and totally unsuited to my philosophy for living well. I don’t like it, mostly because I don’t understand it, and what we don’t understand, we can easily fear.
Reasonable doubt is enough reason in and of itself. Deciding on the balance of probabilities is out of the question for this one.
Or at least, I believe it a little more with each passing day.
I went for a drive today to run some errands. In a moment of dazzling clarity my mind as good as slapped itself, as it posed to me the question: what are you doing? As I continued to reflect, I realised that while I’ve had a good deal of free time lately, I haven’t done much self-improvement. I was confounded as I contemplated the disparity between what it is that I am trying to achieve with my day-to-day, and the actuality of my recent experience.
Flirting with the suggestions of the repressed and horribly inexperienced inner teenager recently has only left me feeling uneasy, uncomfortable and empty. The truth was as obvious to me then as it is now, but the difference is that now I no longer deny it: I can only live well if I live true to myself.
Whatever your framework for life, be it faithful, philosophical, or philanthropic, I would suggest that the only way to realise the true potential you carry is to live each moment as a clear reflection of your convictions. I believe that, because of my growing relationship with the living God, I am set on a path of great potential – but to experience the realisation of that potential means putting into practise what I say I believe, in each and every moment.
This is a line in the sand.
Yesterday’s melancholy was quite out of the ordinary. Thankfully the normal order of things has since been restored.
I feel small.
I know without doubt the soundness of the truth, yet I tempt myself with delusions of the salience of a lie. Where I should already be so confident and able, I strive to do well but fail consistently. I don’t trust myself any more; I risk so much for so little in return. And I feel no comfort because everything that remains can crumble in an instant.
I feel even smaller.
What do I want? Would I know that I had it, if indeed it was mine already?
Or perhaps I should ask, how much should be enough? And is that objectively or subjectively determined – for me to decide, or to be decided for me?
Alas, no answers are forthcoming…