“Doubt everything. Find your own light.” Gautama Buddha
About four years ago, in the forests outside Darrington, WA, I found God. Or maybe, God found me. I’d been searching, and, according to the Hindu proverb, when we take one step towards God, God takes seven steps towards us. I was primed. The experience of plugging into Divinity left me reeling.
I was already at least half convinced I was losing my mind, by that point. The things I was feeling (my soul shining through my bones; messages emerging from the natural world as clear as graffiti on a train car; utter dissatisfaction in all the ways I’d been living my life) were foreign and uncomfortable and challenged all of the precious philosophies and belief systems I’d so carefully cultivated.
You see, for a while there I thought I had it all figured out. I had The Answers. Not just for myself, but for everyone else, too. And as long as I lived my life by these Answers, I felt in control.
But I didn’t feel okay.
And, after a while, that sense of control left, too.
I can pinpoint the day I knew I needed to change something. I was in the habit of going to work early so I could write in a quiet office, just me and my coffee. I usually got there an hour or so before my boss. On this day, I made the hour long drive to work, sat down at my desk—and suddenly found myself curled in the fetal position under my desk, hanging out with the wires and dust bunnies while sobs tore through my chest. This was not okay. And it sure as hell wasn’t the control I thought I had.
It took another couple years before I started getting into the woo. You know what I mean. Crystals. Shamans. Sage bundles and deities and chanting.
God.
Or, to be more precise, fingers pointing at God.
Over the last four years, I’ve studied a number of different approaches to Spirit. I’ve come to see that in every religion, philosophy and practice, there lies an element of Truth. Christianity, for example, is absolutely drowning in layers of corruption, misrepresentation, violence, and bigotry. And yet, there is a reason beyond propaganda that it has become one of the strongest religious paths in the world. There is love, not in the dogma humankind has built around it, but in the teachings of it’s namesake, Christ.
“The church will continue to be even more irrelevant when it quotes letters from 2,000 years ago as their best defense.” —Rob Bell, author and former pastor
So, too, we can look at Islam. Once again, dogma has created a rigid set of standards that leads to violence against women, children, and those outside the faith. And, once again, once the architecture of control has been shaken from the core of this faith, the love at its core becomes clear.
“Islamism is not Islam. Islamism is the politicization of Islam, the desire to impose a version of this ancient faith over society.” —Maajid Nawaz, British activist and author.
The problem comes in, as I see it, when someone decides they know The Answers. For myself, when I had The Answers, I then felt like it was my duty—as a daughter, a friend, a sister, a concerned human being—to tell everyone. Then, when they (inevitably) began to question the veracity of my Answers, I would get defensive.
Come to think of it, I still do. Just last night I was talking with my partner about an issue we’re navigating in my community with an unsafe person, and as he was questioning some of the conclusions I’d come to (Conclusions), I began to get progressively more upset, when he was primarily just trying to understand my viewpoint better.
So. I’ve still got work to do. (Yay! That means I’m not dead!)
Doubt.
Everything.
Doubt even your own answers. Shine light on every angle and see whether it glints off with the diamond shine of truth, or if it shows the flat reflection of falsity. Ask questions. Poke holes. And don’t be afraid of other people doing the same.
I’m not saying to attack for the sake of attacking. Rather, examine, in search for deeper answers, for more integrity, more beauty. When we stop looking, we start solidifying. Growing rigid. Moving out of the flow of the Universe.
“Great marriages have an ease about them, a back-and-forth nonreactive, nondefensive, open, and ongoing flow in which you never stop talking and figuring it out together.” —Rob Bell (again) (I am loving his work right now.)
I love this quote, but I would expand this to say great relationships show these qualities. Our relationships with each other, with ourselves and our ideas, and with the world around us.
Doubt.
Everything.
And in so doing, find your own light.
Courage at the Crossroad 