“How can you see places like this, and have moments like this, and not believe?”
“You’re lucky to be so sure.”
“It’s like the wind. I can’t see it, but I feel it.”
* * *
When there are many thoughts whirring in your mind, I suppose you do uncharacteristic things. At least that is what I seem to do. There has been much on my mind, this and that and a lot else. I would have preferred sitting by the beach under a light rain. But instead, I went to a temple. Uncharacteristically.
My relationship with God is a strange one, more a matter of convenience I think. I have gone through alternative periods of total belief to total rejection to utter lack of concern about the whole issue. As always, my dear parents let me decide where I wanted to be. I can’t thank them enough for that freedom.
Yesterday at the temple, I showed myself to a corner (quiet until an annoying kid started screaming), hoping to line up my thoughts neatly like a row of roses in a manicured garden instead of the messy bunch they were in. Doing that had helped me earlier once, a long time ago. I had been a little of a believer then.
Sitting in that business place of a religious institution, I almost envied the others there. Several were the tourist sorts, but in the crowd there were a few oblivious to the rest and communing with God in that room. I wish I could have that faith.
On most days I don't mind being an agnostic. But sometimes, I admit here, I miss believing in something. I miss having the faith, call it blind or whathaveyou, to hold on to. When there are too many thoughts niggling in the mind, I wish I could feel it in the wind. It would have been a shelter in the storm.