Wednesday, February 24, 2010

In James Hollis' book, WHAT MATTERS MOST: LIVING A MORE CONSIDERED LIFE,  he begins Chapter Two with this quote by Thomas Edison:  "We don't know a millionth of one percent about anything."

That quote flies in the face of the part of me that wants to masquerade as a know-it-all, and this second chapter, "Saving the Appearances:  That We Learn to Tolerate Ambiguity," builds on the previous chapter in which Jim lays the foundation of what matters with the idea that our lives not be governed by fear.

If I tell the truth, it can be annoying, disorienting, nerve-wracking and sometimes downright terrifying to face those places in my life where there is ambiguity.   The little child in me craves certainty, and the more tumultous and chaotic the outer world becomes, the more I long for that which is absolutely true, predictable, unchanging and stable.   My ego -- that central organ of consciousness -- all but demands stability, predictability and familiarity.

The irony is that the more I demand certainty, the less secure I feel, for the need for certainty has something akin to the addictive cycle implicit in it.    I have to ask myself, "Just how much certainty do I need to feel secure?" and when I get that much, why is it that I still need just a bit more to feel safe and secure?   How elaborate do the machines at the airport have to be to guarantee me ultimate security when I get on a plane?  How sophisticated do the medical tests have to be to assure me that I am healthy?

Indeed, it is fear that fuels the need for certainty, but life seems to invite us into those places where the answers may be unknown, the dots don't connect and the possibilities open to us do not guarantee that a day in our lives, a relationship, a project or our very lives will turn out as we think they will.  The universe is full of infinite possibilites and each day contains variables we cannot even imagine, and so we are called to detach from the obsessive need to have the answers and move into the largeness of a life that dares to live the questions.

My faith is built on a deep belief in God, and throughout my life that confidence in God and God's infinite love has sustained me, nourished and nurtured me and challenged me.

How God behaves is another matter, and all of my mental gyrations about the Source of all things doesn't make God conform to my will, my prayers or my fantasies about God.    I've learned the hard way that God is Holy Autonomy. 

My friends in AA say that the hard way is the easy way.  I've learned the truth of that, as well.

Here's the other irony for me:  It is the very fact that I cannot manipulate, coerce or control God that makes me able to trust God, for if I could overpower the Almighty, so could....someone else.  If I could make God conform to my laundry list of things I think God should do, would that really be God?  My small ideas about God don't actually have the power to shrink God down into manageable bites, and my little fantasies about life don't have the power to diminish life, except in my mind.

And so it is that my faith is enlarged by stepping into the cloud of unknowing, that interior space that allows me to be curious and open-minded about life and others and God.

Don't get me wrong:  in a nano-second, I can be scared back into that need for life and God and others to conform to my needs, my ideas and my directives.  Scared enough, I scream for certainties that will assure the little child in me that everything is going to be O.K., I'm O.K. and it will all work out in the end.   I want to know that the best woman will win, and I want that to be me.  I want happy endings. I want to know that sick friends will get well.  I want to be assured that what I am doing is the right thing.

Life invites us into a larger, more risky adventure.

What certainties do you want?

When have you depended on a certainty to hold absolutely, at all times?  When have you depended on a relationship, a venture, an idea or a belief that turned out to be strong enough to bear the burden of your demand of it?   When has that not worked for you?

When have you challenged your ideas about God and found that your God-concept was way too small?

I'm confident in the unrelenting grace of God. 

I don't have a clue how God will choose to extend that grace today.

Grace, anyway -- right?

Jeanie

(This is the first in a four week series of reflections based on Chapter Two of the book WHAT MATTERS MOST:  LIVING A MORE CONSIDERED LIFE,  by James Hollis.    You can order Jim's books from here -- http://www.junghouston.org or from http://www.amazon.com.     You can also order CDs of his lecture from this course from the Jung Center in Houston.           Previous posts from this series can be found by clicking "What Matters" on the home page of this website.)