Which is Mostly About the Importance of Attempting

05/15/2006 6:49 AM – 7:09 AM

I guess that in the end, the only way to do something is to station yourself in place and do it. Letting all other things that enter the mind, pass on through while you continue in the attempt. The only way that you’ll sit is to sit down and attempt to sit. The only way to write is to sit down and write. The only way to have faith is to attempt to have faith.

We can only attempt to do the thing when we are in the action of attempting. You have to act in order to act. And still, there is only attempt. There is still time and chance. Sometimes, time and chance bring desirable ends, sometimes undesirable. But there remains the primary action of attempt. The muse is fickle. The mind is a monkey. But there is the reinstatement of attempt. And attempt is all we’ve got. As the mind to the brain, so God to the world. Hovering over the face of the deep. We see out and learn the rules of thumb. We look inward and discover the calm that underlies all attempts.

There is a time for everything, even not-faith, but when faith’s time is there, we attempt to have it. There is a time for not-writing, but when the time for writing is there, we attempt it. Time and chance still hold court, they are still the lower gods, but we, with honest humility, still must continue in our attempting. Looking up, we see the clouds drift, and we wish that we too could be drifting. The clouds form and cover the sky and then the temperature changes and the clouds dissipate and the sky is blue. We are born onto this earth, we drift along and then the temperature changes and we dissipate. That thing that once was us is no more. We have hope in the resurrection and the coming Kingdom, but if we cannot touch the hem of the Kingdom, our faith dissipates. What is the substance of the hem we grasp? Why was the tomb empty? All answers require faith in an unprovable atomic proposition. So which answer works the best? And I cannot answer that for anyone but myself. And some days I cannot answer it for myself. That I prefer my faith to yours is time and chance, but prefer it I do. From viewpoint of grave, all actions are equally ridiculous. But I’m not dead yet. The treetops tickle the belly of the wind. All things follow delight.