It is a journey, the journey of faith, and one that can never fully be explained. Some things require that we experience them, that we take them in as though medicinal. I am seeing the potent elixir of faith, the way it brings me to the present of each moment inside of every day. That is the way of freedom. There are no beats that can be skipped. There is no button in which to press that fast forwards the discomfort of the journey. To be free is to go through. Faith is the journey of going through.
I wake each day into the unknown, and it is there that I allow Life to happen. I lean on my faith, whispering words of my gratitude while affirming the absolute truth: I am held, sustained, and carried by life. It can be no other way. When we believe in the Magic we come to see appearances as unreal. They are not absolute, but rather experiences to go through. We go through in order to get beyond. To believe in the Magic of life is to have faith as our only option. There is nothing more to turn toward, no exit sign above a door through which to run. There is only trust and allowing, and the conjuring of peace while we sit at the pace of patience.
Who walks this close to the edge closing all doors behind them leaving only the leap? Who gives it all away for the pathless path of uncertainty? Who with sight allows themselves to move so blindly? I have, and I am not alone in the room of the test. It is there that the journey of faith tests us, and that we test our faith. We sit nestled in the quiet peace of the wait until the bell sounds and the door opens.