Belief

What do I believe? Isn’t much different than what Ed Abbey had to say.

“Belief? What do I believe in? I believe in sun. In rock. In the dogma of the sun and the doctrine of the rock. I believe in blood, fire, woman, rivers, eagles, storm, drums, flutes, banjos, and broom-tailed horses…I believe in nothing that I cannot touch, kiss, embrace. The rest is only hearsay. The love of a man for his wife, his child, of the land where he lives and works, is for me the real meaning of mystical experience. Those who waste their whole lives hungering for fantastic and occult sensations are suffering from retarded emotional development and stunted imaginations. Belief in the supernatural reflects a failure of the imagination. If a man’s imagination were not so weak, so easily tired, if his capacity for wonder not so limited, he would abandon forever such fantasies of the supernal. He would learn to perceive in water, leaves and silence more than sufficient of the absolute and marvelous, more than enough to console him for the loss of the ancient dreams.”

I think the earth and wind and rivers and rock are wholly natural and amazing emergent phenomena of a wondrous numinous universe from which we too have emerged and evolved into one of many conscious creatures able to profoundly love and appreciate our very own and only true home.

As Alan Watts said, “We do not “come into” this world; we come out of it, as leaves from a tree. As the ocean “waves,” the universe “peoples.” Every individual is an expression of the whole realm of nature, a unique action of the total universe. This fact is rarely, if ever, experienced by most individuals. Even those who know it to be true in theory do not sense or feel it, but continue to be aware of themselves as isolated “egos” inside bags of skin.”

So yes, stone, juniper, snow beneath my skis, a mountain stream, wolves, running with my huskies, red tail hawks, the sound of the guitar under my fingers, the fluidity of a martial art move, raven call, flight of the arrow, the strength of my sinew under iron, the laugh of children, the epiphany of a poem, ripple against a canoe,  the fall of autumn leaves, the curves of a women, the scent of roasting chilies, the love of close ones. These things.

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