Wednesday, 18 March 2015

God?

Hello. Welcome. It's great that you're reading this. Well done for logging on. You could choose not to but you chose to come here. Go you.

I believe I am here because a power greater than I supported me and helped me when I did not know how to help myself.

It may be considered politically incorrect to post about God, but I don't know of any faith system whose God is bound by human laws, so I will go ahead and type. It may help someone and that is the whole point of this blog. 

I really feel that it is so important for everyone, whatever your walk of life, whatever your background, whatever your current state of mind, to contemplate what you believe in and trust as your personal faith. 

Some people pray; some express themselves through dance or song and find connection with  higher power in this way; some people believe in angels and ask them for guidance. Some people invest trust in traditions with which they were brought up; others find meaning in the very questioning of those traditions. 

Many people combine some of the above; many change opinions and beliefs as life's experiences move them in different directions. The point is this: That which I've listed here, and the innumerable other faith systems and ways of thinking it is possible to have, are all brilliant; equally so. 
Do you know why? Because they bring comfort, solace, direction and a sense of being grounded. These are invaluable, especially when one is caught up in loneliness, emptiness, depression, anxiety or any form of emotional distress.

The following is a poem I wrote several years ago, when I had begun to have more confidence in my beliefs than I'd previously had. Whatever your beliefs, I encourage you to look at how important they are to you and to begin to invest in that which you hold as your faith. Faith is, and always will be, so personal to you that no one will ever be able to shake it.

My God (14/07/’10)

Not the words on the page,
But the meaning they have when I read;
Not the stem or the leaves,
But the fact the plant grew from a seed;
Not the notes that are played,
But the tune, as it flows in my soul;
Not the boot or the ball,
No. The roar of the crowd at the goal.

Not the jasmine that burns,
But the scent that it leaves in my room;
Less the ultrasound scan
Than the beat that is heard from the womb;
Not the tea in the cup,
But the drinking, content being alone;
Neither mortar nor tiles,
No. Security; this place, my home.

Not the clown in the ring,
But the laughter that sings from the child;
Not the wind, not the rain,
But the feel of the storm, hot and wild;
Neither pupils, nor teachers,
The spirit of learning as one;
Not qualifications,
No. Pride; a career just begun.

Not the ticket or plane,
But escape from the norm to the new;
Not the self-help advice;
Rather, knowing what you knew you knew;
Neither pillow nor blanket,
But comfort in aches now relieved;
Neither candles nor altar,

No. A power in which I believe.

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