Belief: Part One

The more words are used, the more they actually lose their power, or at least they start to become white-washed, their resonance extenuated until all flavor and gusto is gone, like a hot cup of coffee that’s been sitting around long enough to become viscous sludge. Faith is a word that used to be like carbonated water, but now it’s fallen flat; the bubbles are gone and it’s only still, dirty dishwater. If I hear the phrase “faith-based initiatives” one more time, I’m gonna pop a Vicodin, swill some wine, and Bob’s your uncle.

What does it mean nowadays when someone says: “I’m a person of faith?” Most often, the connotation is that the person believes in God. Strangely, as I’ve been contemplating faith, I realize that over the past year, or probably much longer, I’ve been winding my way back on a circuitous path to a personalized faith – the faith of Timmie – but isn’t that what we all do? Aren’t we all trying to figure out what we believe and then trying to live it?

What we believe is really who we are at our core, and discovering that can take a lifetime or more. I know I’ve been happily surprised along my life’s path to find that beliefs I had which I thought made me who I was weren’t really there at all, but rather they were just floating on the surface, pretending to be me. Beliefs sometimes fall to the wayside and new ones form over time, or sometimes instantly when I least expect it. I’ll sometimes read a passage from a book, or hear someone on the radio, and think, “Yes, that’s a belief I’ve been trying to articulate for years. Thank you.”

The word faith originally popped up around 1250AD and meant “duty of fulfilling one’s trust”. Etymologists believe it derives from the Anglo-Norman “fed” and Latin “fides”, which means “trust, belief”. Religions began to be called faiths around 1300 and “faith-healer” popped up in 1885. And, of course, there’s Old Faithful, the geyser named by General H.D. Washburn in 1870. The word faith has come a long way.

The religious connotation must change. We need to get back to the origins of the word and understand that instead of it being a Christian-owned word in the Western world, it needs to return to: a confident belief in the truth, value, or trustworthiness of a person, idea, or thing that doesn’t rest on proof or material evidence. That’s the faith in which I want to believe.

When I looked up the word, one definition stated that faith was based on the Christian belief in God and a trusting acceptance of his will, and then it continued with the following: the body of dogma of a religion – the Muslim faith. Interesting that Islam in this definition is connected to dogma, but Christianity isn’t. Hmm. I wonder who the wordsmith was on that one.

I have faith that the chair I’m sitting and swiveling in right now is going to continue to hold me up. That has nothing to do with religion or even spirituality. It’s a sturdy mission-style chair. It hasn’t failed me yet, but I have no proof that one day it won’t simply lose a wheel, lurch to the right, and throw me to the floor. I hope it doesn’t, and I have faith that it won’t, but it doesn’t mean it won’t happen.

What do you believe? I mean, really, what is it that you believe in the big picture of your place in the universe? Do you believe you’re an insignificant dot on the cosmic landscape or a significant presence? More specifically, what is the overriding belief that gets you to place your feet on the floor in the morning, stand up, and walk out the door on your daily adventure? I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately because it’s important for me to discover what I believe in all manner of thought, emotions, experience, relationships. This will constantly evolve over time – sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly; it’ll change during the discourse of my life, but right now, what do I believe?

F. inspired me to write my creed: a set of beliefs that I hold in faith. Here again I have to look at the word’s origins and go to the Germanic word “bdan”, which means to await trustingly. I await trustingly in my beliefs until something comes along to engage me to reconfigure them into my reality and experience.

I used to believe in the Easter Bunny, but that faith changed when I found out that my mom was the one that filled the Easter basket with chocolate bunnies, Cadbury eggs, and other confectionary treats. At that childhood time, the Easter Bunny was as real as my two hands that type this blog and nobody could tell me differently. It seems naïve to compare change in faith using this memory, but it does say something to me about belief and experience. It doesn’t, however, make me throw the baby out with the bathwater.

When I began writing my creed, I started with the following words: “I believe.” The first few beliefs on my list came quickly. What I found amazing was that I didn’t realize some of the things I believed until they popped up and I questioned them. The list grew longer and longer with each belief beginning with “I believe.”

My list of “I Believes” is now four pages long and growing. I’m not going to share this creed because it’s for me, but I will divulge two, the first one being: I believe in Santa Claus. Truly. That’s on my list. I saw him when I was a child, a silhouette in my bedroom doorway with a little elf on his shoulder. I felt like my heart was a dog pulling against its leash trying to get out of my chest. I threw the quilt over my head and when I peeked out again, Santa was gone. When that memory resurfaced while writing my creed, I had to question it, and the resounding answer was that, yes, I do believe in Santa. People may lampoon me for this, but deep inside, ask yourself: Do I believe in magic?

The other belief has to do with my writing. It used to be that people like the Greeks believed in muses. Romans believe that each man had a genius and each woman a juno. Greeks and Romans both believed that the work of artists was inspired by a being connected to the larger universe. After the Renaissance it became commonplace that work came only from the artist. I’d like to go back to the belief that it’s me and my muses working together and when an idea for a story or blog entry or poem comes steamrolling across the hills, I’m going to grab onto it, reach for some paper, pencil, or keyboard, and write like a madman before the idea finds someone else to write it.

For me, life’s more fun with what some might think ridiculous, such as water nymphs, woodland fairies, pookas, and the god Thor. Thor is the red-haired and bearded god of thunder. I’d rather believe in him than thunder merely being a random atmospheric discharge. They’re my beliefs and I can’t help but believe in a little magic in the world that doesn’t have to be beyond our comprehension.

What do you believe? (Write it down.)