I know where it comes from. That it is anchored deeper than flesh and bone. That it goes beyond the brain, and that thinking can actually get you farther from it—especially if you’re cynical, skeptical, and believe you’re smarter than everyone.
I know that blindly believing what we’re taught in school, by religion, and by politics is dangerous and detrimental to the spirit, to living freely, to finding home. There is a wider scope, a larger view, and yet we seek comfort in narrowing things—this life experience—down to whatever validates our beliefs. Make it simple. Don’t think twice. Do whatever fear tells you to do and be sure it makes you feel good and nice. If it doesn’t, blame someone else. The President, the Pope, a donkey, an elephant, another country or race.
We seek comfort in those that are like us and cast others aside. We’re too weak to embrace those that are different, ideas that don’t jive with ours, and the possibility that there are not only other dimensions, but a whole other side.
We fight for causes, our families, our country, and for God, but most of all we fight to consume. And because of that we run the risk of living empty, meaningless lives of routine, surrounded by shit we don’t need.
We’re given day after day after day because the forces that drives us—the hands working magic behind the scenes—have hope that one day we’ll see. That we’ll wake from our silence, our opinions, our selfishness, our coma, our sleep, and swing our legs over the edge of the bed with determination and enough strength to make the great leap that’s necessary to begin an existence guided by something that’s to be believed without being seen.