Faith
Reading some kierkegaard just recently. Cool stuff. I don't really know how to spell his name. Anyway, he is talking about "the Man of Faith" as opposed to the man of reason or the man of strength. I am interpreting this "Man of Faith" as a person who devotes themself fully to good...God...the flow of the universe...Tao...whatever your belief system, and sets aside their own desires. I want to kiss this girl but I feel in my gut that I shouldn't attach myself to her, so I trust that gut. Sacrifice? Sort of. But if you truly believe that higher voice is a higher voice, than how would it be a sacrifice?
In my experience following that universal flow or God or whathaveyou tends to lead to happy times, while following your own desires just leads to...life as we know it. Sometimes good and sometimes bad. Not that it's always easy to know what the 'godly' thing to do is.
Another thing our friend Kierkegaard talks about is maintaining expectation or belief or hope even in the face of impossibility. He says that he who always hopes for the best becomes old due to being faced with reality, and that he who expects the worse becomes prematurely old with the stress of that expectation, but that he who simply has faith in the good will stay forever young. That's an awful parahash but basically what I'm hearing is that if you have these specific hopes than you're bound to be dissapointed, because not everything comes true. And if you always expect the worse, than of course you're filled with negative thoughts and cynicism builds (I've never bought the whole thing about expecting the worse and being pleasantly surprised all the time, because if you truly expect the worst thing than how would you ever be able to enjoy the good things...you'd always be waiting for the other shoe. To drop.). But if you simply live your life in the moment with a quiet faith that things will work out, and even the more specific faith that what you specifically want will someday work out, then...well, it will someday, or it won't. But if you always have faith- not counting on it, dwelling on it, or making plans around it, but simply quietly expecting it, then you'll never be dissapointed when it doesn't come.
The only real-life illustration I can think of this is this one time when I was really into this girl, but was getting the cold shoulder from her a lot. So I came to her house once (to see other people that lived there; I had no plans with her) and was so stressed and so sad-feeling that I just wanted some affection from her. So I was literally praying, which is really rare because I don't tend to believe in chatty sort of higher power, but I was praying, the sort of odd prayer of "Please give me something sweet" not meaning anything sleazy, but just meaning that I really really needed a sweet moment with someone, and I wanted it with her. So I had this mantra, and I was saying it so hard to myself, in my head, maybe even under my breath, and I was so sure it would come true, but then I realized that she was already asleep. So I sat outside her door for a little while (creepy, right?) so sure that she'd come out and talk to me and we'd have this great moment, but she didn't. So finally I just gave up, baffled that it hadn't come true, even though I'd felt so sure it must . I felt kind of betrayed. By whom?
Two days later, I stayed at that house again, and instead of worrying over everything she was doing, I calmly wrote my thoughts down on a piece of paper, and when I heard her in the next room, I approached her and talked to her, and as if everything was all planned out in a script we ended up sleeping side by side. Nothing sexual happened, nor were any deep words exchanged, but it was exactly what I had prayed for: "Something sweet".
I am far from the Man of Faith Kierkegaard describes, especially in this story, but looking back on it allows me to see, and show, what a man of faith might have been. A man (or woman. I'm just quoting Kierkegaard, not being sexist. i hope) of faith would have prayed for something sweet, as I did, then expected it deeply, as I did-- but his faith wouldn't have lapsed even when nothing happened that night. He would have calmly awaited the 'gift from god' that that sweetness would be, whenever god gave it to him. In a sense, I suppose, simply praying the prayer would have been all the man of faith needed to calm himself of his loneliness, because he could then relax, content in the belief that his prayer would eventually come true.
Sounds too good to be true, right? All you have to do is pray, and believe it, and all your worries go away? Well, I don't buy that. Even as I believed my prayer and drew solace for it, I still felt like a drowning man, gasping for affection. And when I'm sick, nasuous, praying for relief, even as I take comfort in knowing the prayer will be eventually answered, I still whimper in misery. But I guess we are all multi-layered,
and we may as well learn how to nurture each of our layers, one at a time.
I'm sure that in time, we'll be fully taken care of in the best way possible.
In my experience following that universal flow or God or whathaveyou tends to lead to happy times, while following your own desires just leads to...life as we know it. Sometimes good and sometimes bad. Not that it's always easy to know what the 'godly' thing to do is.
Another thing our friend Kierkegaard talks about is maintaining expectation or belief or hope even in the face of impossibility. He says that he who always hopes for the best becomes old due to being faced with reality, and that he who expects the worse becomes prematurely old with the stress of that expectation, but that he who simply has faith in the good will stay forever young. That's an awful parahash but basically what I'm hearing is that if you have these specific hopes than you're bound to be dissapointed, because not everything comes true. And if you always expect the worse, than of course you're filled with negative thoughts and cynicism builds (I've never bought the whole thing about expecting the worse and being pleasantly surprised all the time, because if you truly expect the worst thing than how would you ever be able to enjoy the good things...you'd always be waiting for the other shoe. To drop.). But if you simply live your life in the moment with a quiet faith that things will work out, and even the more specific faith that what you specifically want will someday work out, then...well, it will someday, or it won't. But if you always have faith- not counting on it, dwelling on it, or making plans around it, but simply quietly expecting it, then you'll never be dissapointed when it doesn't come.
The only real-life illustration I can think of this is this one time when I was really into this girl, but was getting the cold shoulder from her a lot. So I came to her house once (to see other people that lived there; I had no plans with her) and was so stressed and so sad-feeling that I just wanted some affection from her. So I was literally praying, which is really rare because I don't tend to believe in chatty sort of higher power, but I was praying, the sort of odd prayer of "Please give me something sweet" not meaning anything sleazy, but just meaning that I really really needed a sweet moment with someone, and I wanted it with her. So I had this mantra, and I was saying it so hard to myself, in my head, maybe even under my breath, and I was so sure it would come true, but then I realized that she was already asleep. So I sat outside her door for a little while (creepy, right?) so sure that she'd come out and talk to me and we'd have this great moment, but she didn't. So finally I just gave up, baffled that it hadn't come true, even though I'd felt so sure it must . I felt kind of betrayed. By whom?
Two days later, I stayed at that house again, and instead of worrying over everything she was doing, I calmly wrote my thoughts down on a piece of paper, and when I heard her in the next room, I approached her and talked to her, and as if everything was all planned out in a script we ended up sleeping side by side. Nothing sexual happened, nor were any deep words exchanged, but it was exactly what I had prayed for: "Something sweet".
I am far from the Man of Faith Kierkegaard describes, especially in this story, but looking back on it allows me to see, and show, what a man of faith might have been. A man (or woman. I'm just quoting Kierkegaard, not being sexist. i hope) of faith would have prayed for something sweet, as I did, then expected it deeply, as I did-- but his faith wouldn't have lapsed even when nothing happened that night. He would have calmly awaited the 'gift from god' that that sweetness would be, whenever god gave it to him. In a sense, I suppose, simply praying the prayer would have been all the man of faith needed to calm himself of his loneliness, because he could then relax, content in the belief that his prayer would eventually come true.
Sounds too good to be true, right? All you have to do is pray, and believe it, and all your worries go away? Well, I don't buy that. Even as I believed my prayer and drew solace for it, I still felt like a drowning man, gasping for affection. And when I'm sick, nasuous, praying for relief, even as I take comfort in knowing the prayer will be eventually answered, I still whimper in misery. But I guess we are all multi-layered,
and we may as well learn how to nurture each of our layers, one at a time.
I'm sure that in time, we'll be fully taken care of in the best way possible.