Friday, July 7, 2017

Hopeful Thinking - Saturday, July 8, 2017 - Sniff Those Rosebuds

It is said in many ways and by many different cultures that it’s not the destination which matters most. It’s the journey. We often see this kind of bumper-sticker speak suggesting we take in the present moment rather than obsess about future outcomes. Or past failures.

It might be concluded that world scripture is nudging us toward smelling the warmed roses, rather than burying the bushes for the winter in June. What might be sniffed from this?
Let’s create a “fact” for the sake of argument. The “fact” is: Journey is exponentially more important than Destination. If that is so, then why? And to what? If we assume Journey literally is the destination we seek, what thoughts does it bring up?
My faith operates under the assumption that like a good jazz vocal, real Truth fits in many different boxes without losing the essence and intent of the original thought. Truth is continuously revealed in the process of exploring it. God isn’t interested in us figuring it out as It is in the vibration of the steadfast attempt to raise ourselves up.
Is there a vibration to the pursuit of happiness?
As we sweep away the confetti of our 241st anniversary as an experiment in democracy, might we wonder if the energy that best propels us forward is the act of striving for something bigger than we are?
What if we were to see on a monitor the energy coming from an American football game? It could be surmised that the most productive, positive energy comes from the fans when their team gets a touchdown. But I think spiritual principle suggests that it comes from the team as they’re trying to score. It’s quieter, by comparison. But then volume has never had a history of being the determining factor of truth.
What occurs within us when we strive for something? What do we project? It would seem to me to be an energy that can ring bells the entire Universe can hear. The energy we broadcast as we study for an exam may well exceed that which occurs with the relief of getting an A. Or even a diploma.
So what might this mean for us? It means that Intent is what matters most to our sense of satisfaction. Not success. The road to hell is not paved with good intentions. It is paved with apathy. It is cobbled like so much stone from our fear of proceeding. Our fear of action.
And we understandably fear taking action. Action is risk. Risk implies the possibility of genuine loss. We are afraid for good reason. But what if we act in spite of that fear?
It would be easier to do so if we accept that trying is actually the point of life. Not succeeding. Not proving, but experimenting. We think getting the answer is the purpose, but it’s not. It’s asking the questions.
Intention is easier than action, for the record. It’s just spending some time deciding how you want to feel and then operating under the assumption that it’s a reality in process. Just decide what you want. Then don't do anything against it.
Americans have a deep need to succeed. It is the hallmark of our society. But what if the thing that God is actually trying to get you to do is to take the leap? What if the sensation of free-falling is the whole point of it all?
Might God love us most when we are sincerely doing our best? The most consistent traditional description of God is that of a loving father. We know the difference in parenting styles between a father which values winning at all costs over the dedicated pursuit of sportsmanship. We already know which one makes a better father. What if that is an accurate description of the masculine divine we refer to as the male pronoun God? Is God proud of us for trying? For doing our best? I think so. But why?
Perhaps it’s because that’s what propels the expansion of the entire Universe. Perhaps it’s Intent which fuels the motion of All That Is. Or maybe it will just make you feel better.


  1. Thank you, Wil, for this challenging and comforting meditation on being present to and in God's world. Shannan

    1. Thank you, Shannon. Much love your way... ❤️

      X, Wil