There are some kinds of beliefs that have nothing to do with faith.
Like things that we believe about ourselves or other people. We seem to hold onto these beliefs pretty tightly. We make up our minds and almost get a little stubborn about it. When someone tries to encourage us to see things differently, seldom do we want to let go.
It's as if we fear we are giving up some part of ourselves that feels essential to our functioning!
For example, when we're at odds with someone, we feel powerful when we get angry, so we don't want to calm down or let go of the anger because we fear the power will drain from us too. Or perhaps we want to confront someone and it is only through aggression that we find the courage to do so.
We stoke the fire so we can feel strong -- so we can feel motivated to push for change.
But what if there was a way to be powerful without being angry -- to find the power from a deeper source within us?
What if mercy -- or forgiveness -- came from a place of might and not inadequacy? What if grace could truly transform a difficult situation?
Would we really believe that? Would we unclench our grip?
It seems to be such a risk. We are so fearful of what will remain standing when the smoke and mirrors are stripped away -- when it is only us and who we are. How can we come face to face with the question of whether we are an instrument for peace or for war?
What would it take to convince us to simply be fully ourselves -- defined, determined, compassionate -- to believe that we alone, with justice and goodess and hope inside us, are more than enough to affect change, to engage on behalf of ourselves and others?
Maybe my first sentence here isn't really accurate. Maybe all beliefs, sooner or later, have everything to do with faith.
Kay
