Our lives would be so simple if we could remain blissfully unaware.
Not necessarily more comfortable, easier or more straightforward; not imbuing us with more confidence or certainty, but allowing us a simplicity in our day-to-day affairs and an uncluttered wider picture.
Whatever the realm in which we lead our lives, bliss is one of our ultimate aims.
In a largely temporal existence this can only be approached by remaining unaware – blissfully unaware – of all that lies beyond the scope of sight, hearing, touch, scent and taste: the senses we live by, in common with the cat on our lap, the dog at our side, the birds on the feeder outside the kitchen window, and the livestock in the fields.
True bliss lies far beyond the first touches or intimations of the spiritual: beyond those early states and emotions which are brought to life within us as we become more aware, and which will probably send us in the opposite direction before giving any hint of the peace which perseverance will bring.
Any sense of calm or comfort may feel unattainable in the persistent presence of an apprehension: a discomfort we are unable to locate or identify, but which seemingly infects us with – as it were – a perpetual mental frown.
Unknowingly, we have begun our long series of battles with something we are told always to stand against: – being afraid.
Fear now becomes entangled in our minds and hearts.
Its beginnings are so subtle and gentle, but it is likely that it will shadow us for a long time.
We may barely be conscious of it as fear, being aware only of that constant unease whose growth is almost imperceptible, but whose identity is revealed as soon as we attempt to name it.
Perhaps we are drawn to speak, briefly and in the vaguest possible way, of what is going on within our heart, but in searching for a way to describe our unease, we cannot keep ourselves from using the only word that seems to fit: - fear.
We fear the unknown.
To think about the unknown - any unknown - is to approach an edge.
To direct our attention towards the vast expanse of the spiritual unknown and its place in our lives is to approach the very edge.
It is an approach that involves going beyond all fears to discover, not just where God belongs in our lives, but who we are, and where our lives belong in God’s plan.
Awareness will not allow us to retreat to wherever we came from, and we begin to realize that saying “Yes” to this Presence has resulted in our relinquishing some of our own control.
Something moves, and we are powerless to stop it.
For the first time we fear that something may be asked of us.
We fear we may be called to go further than we wanted to go.
Not necessarily more comfortable, easier or more straightforward; not imbuing us with more confidence or certainty, but allowing us a simplicity in our day-to-day affairs and an uncluttered wider picture.
Whatever the realm in which we lead our lives, bliss is one of our ultimate aims.
In a largely temporal existence this can only be approached by remaining unaware – blissfully unaware – of all that lies beyond the scope of sight, hearing, touch, scent and taste: the senses we live by, in common with the cat on our lap, the dog at our side, the birds on the feeder outside the kitchen window, and the livestock in the fields.
True bliss lies far beyond the first touches or intimations of the spiritual: beyond those early states and emotions which are brought to life within us as we become more aware, and which will probably send us in the opposite direction before giving any hint of the peace which perseverance will bring.
Any sense of calm or comfort may feel unattainable in the persistent presence of an apprehension: a discomfort we are unable to locate or identify, but which seemingly infects us with – as it were – a perpetual mental frown.
Unknowingly, we have begun our long series of battles with something we are told always to stand against: – being afraid.
Fear now becomes entangled in our minds and hearts.
Its beginnings are so subtle and gentle, but it is likely that it will shadow us for a long time.
We may barely be conscious of it as fear, being aware only of that constant unease whose growth is almost imperceptible, but whose identity is revealed as soon as we attempt to name it.
Perhaps we are drawn to speak, briefly and in the vaguest possible way, of what is going on within our heart, but in searching for a way to describe our unease, we cannot keep ourselves from using the only word that seems to fit: - fear.
We fear the unknown.
To think about the unknown - any unknown - is to approach an edge.
To direct our attention towards the vast expanse of the spiritual unknown and its place in our lives is to approach the very edge.
It is an approach that involves going beyond all fears to discover, not just where God belongs in our lives, but who we are, and where our lives belong in God’s plan.
Awareness will not allow us to retreat to wherever we came from, and we begin to realize that saying “Yes” to this Presence has resulted in our relinquishing some of our own control.
Something moves, and we are powerless to stop it.
For the first time we fear that something may be asked of us.
We fear we may be called to go further than we wanted to go.
