WHAT WE BELIEVE

One day I should like to write of my obsession with cemeteries, my fascination with simple phrases etched into stone that strain to speak to a lifetime of purpose and loving, heartache and joy.

It strikes me how much like the headstones our communication has become—

Abbreviated epitaphs struggling and then failing to convey the vastness of the embodied soul.

It must be because of my own recent journey that I imagine with increased frequency what my headstone might read.

Within the framework of a soundbite world—the engraving would cry out, “Examine what you believe.”

Study. Scrutinize. Investigate. Inspect.

Our words are not only impetuous and unintentional, they are in so many cases, not even our own—

I begin my day in search of one critically-thought-out original post and am left with something kindred to what is felt when someone dies…that is, this mashup of grief, anxiety, dejection, loss.

Reposting is a complex and troubling thing. It justifies the absence of thinking through and deeply about any given thing.

Have we undervalued the majesty of the human brain?
Have we discarded the wisdom of understanding why we feel the way we do?
Have we allowed anxiety of living in the “right this minute” to dictate what we say?

Have we allowed the loudest voices to quiet our thinking cells?

Belief is developed not in an instant but in the passage of time. It is unwrapped over loving exchanges at dinner tables and whispers laying side by side deep into the night.

Belief is a testing, a grappling, an uncovering of who and what you are.
Belief is the refusal to rely on just one verse or sentence without reading the entire book.

When I write I nearly always cry. Not out of sadness. But out of the discovery of my humanity wired within the framework of connection between head and heart.

This is where the soul resides.
Where I take a breath, where I honor what is felt before what is said.

Sometimes I wait for the words to come for what seems like a very long time.

I am in awe of the internal silence that demands that I be still. Not a void like something’s missing. More like a rushing in and through as if I’m being filled.

I am fascinated by the wisdom that dwells within the pause.

Revelation. Epiphany. Enlightenment. Truth.

These are the children of patience,
the overflow of putting breath between what is meant and what is said,
the gifts of being willing to allow silence…even absence from the dialogue… to carry the most weight.

Mine is the privilege and obligation to stand firm or change my mind, until what I believe isn’t something merely spoken but lived out and through, until it resonates in every part of my being.

ON EXAMINING BELIEF—

Is the belief one deeply held by family, one you've held since you were a child?
Has life experience tested the belief?
Have you personally researched the belief from many sources?
Have you journaled about the belief to receive revelation from within?
Is the belief in alignment with your Creator's view?
Do you shift the belief according to what others think?
Is the belief consistent with how you live?
How far would you be willing to defend the belief?
Have you participated in open discussion about the belief with those who hold another point of view?
Are you certain the information you have about the belief is true?
Are you able and eager to confidently defend your belief with others?
Do you experience fruit in your life when you act on the belief? 

IMAGES CAPTURED: I came upon this breathtaking hilltop cemetery while hiking in Saint-Paul-de-Vence—Departement des Alpes-Maritimes, Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur, France.Some of those who died were buried here as early as 1808.