up in the air

"There are then cases where faith creates its own verification. Believe, and you shall be right, for you shall save yourself; doubt, and you shall again be right, for you shall perish. The only difference is that to believe is greatly to your advantage." - William James

It is highly likely that you either had a Valentine's Day that involved a date of some sort, which probably also involved some kind of candy or dinner or perhaps a movie. It is also quite likely that if you did not partake in some form of the former, you spent at least part of your day having negative feelings about the holiday's existence or your relationship status.

I considered following both of these paths, and rejected both options. (Truth be told, I'm sure navigating the first would have been a little bit difficult, but I'm nice enough that I like to think I could get a date if I really tried.) Instead, I spent a large chunk of my evening at my favorite bar with one of my favorite people, getting rather drunk, eating a shameful amount of french fries, and having a pretty serious conversation about faith and religion.

I have written previously about my shocking lack of an opinion when it comes to spirituality, and I surprise myself more and more by realising just how much of it I'm open to. I have always been grateful to have been raised an agnostic, presuming that it's given me the tools I need to question things before I subscribe to them. Still I wonder: what if it has given me the same problem that those who've grown up in organized religion might have? What if I'm stuck in questioning mode and never able to take a leap of faith because I can't see outside of the way I was raised?

These questions were all posed as I dipped fries into ketchup, knocked back Jamesons, and shared funny looks with the bartender. I came to a weird conclusion that this is an avenue in my life that needs to be studied, and I came to an even weirder one that maybe I should start by giving up agnosticism for Lent. Is it as hard for me to believe in something as it is for me to make an effort? (Are they essentially the same thing?)

Along these lines, I had a relatively stressful and unpleasant sort of week, which was punctuated on Friday by a series of exclamation points in the form of big, work-related news that falls under the category of "good problems to have." Immediately after coming to terms with the idea that I don't know how to try, I have been faced with realities that mean I am going to have no choice but to try. If that's not the work of a higher power, I don't know what is.

So I'm terrified, and there's been a lot of hand-holding done on the friend front because of it, and I've got three days of anxiety attacks under my belt as I cruise on into whatever it is life has to offer me. Friday night I went out with another close friend, the first person to hear the story of my day. "What if I fail?" I asked him with fear in my heart.

He took a swig of his beer. "If you fail, then you fail. But...you're not going to fail."

Here is what I know: I have to try, and I believe in the words of William James far more than I believe in myself. I don't really have a good idea of what Lent is or the story behind it, but I'm willing to start there and give up something that's been a very central part of my life for a long time. I'm not going to convert to a religion and I'm not going to suddenly change the way that I live my life, but for forty days, I am going to give up doubt.

Wish me luck - or, as it happens, belief.

am i food, or am i free?

I'm not sure if it's the inevitable talk of a better and brighter new year, the company I've been keeping, or my own state of mind, but the subject of fate keeps coming up lately in a way that's hard to avoid. Over some unspeakably good pancakes at Maggie Brown on Saturday, I quoted Empire Records to a friend:

"I'm guided by a force much greater than luck."

Because he's not a woman in his late twenties, he missed the reference and nodded seriously. "Yes, but I think luck is also part of it. I believe in luck, and I think it and fate go hand in hand. I do think my life follows a plan."

Here are three strange things about that statement:

1) I nodded, and felt like I agreed with it in a serious manner.
2) I also have no idea whether or not I believe in any sort of god / organizing principle.
3) This disconnect has been present for most of my life and has never bothered me.

In fact, it's my lack of feeling troubled in this situation that has me worried: about a year or so ago, I had a really serious discussion with another friend about spirituality. The "serious" portion was all on his end, as was the "discussion"; for my part, I had nothing to contribute. I'd never considered myself a spiritual person, and when it comes down to it, I don't know what the force behind the universe is and I'm not bothered by the fact that I don't know - either it'll be revealed to me sooner or later, or it won't.

That said, there's something markedly disturbing about not having a strong belief about something people are so passionate about, and I find myself wanting to share in that kind of spirit. I've been known to attend AA meetings simply because they're held in churches and I find something perfect in church ceilings. (If I was the kind of person who filled out the "interests" section of social networking sites, "the ceilings of churches" would be somewhere in between "scotch" and "my friend Mike's love life.") I think the stages of the Bodhisattva's path are really quite beautiful. Franny and Zooey is even my favorite book!

And when you ask me where my sympathies lies, when you wonder where my faith is, I fail to give you an answer that explains my staunch belief that things happen for a reason. I will tell you something about how my faith lies in things I can see, like people and songs and books, and that this to me is more than enough. I might tell you a story about how people fall into my life in ways so bizarre they seem as though they must be predetermined, but I won't be able to connect that to a meaningful set of beliefs that explain the constructs behind that sentiment.

I don't have a grand plan for my life; I find that 99% of the time, it falls into place in ways my tiny mind could never have dreamed. My best friends come to me from the strangest places: sitting in front of me in a class I'm about to drop, jumping off a stage after a rock show and shaking my hand, writing me emails about a blog from 1500 miles away. I started an entire career in the music industry by letting someone I'd just met for the first time in person take me to visit someone's office in the hopes of scoring an advance of a Mazarin album.

I look at people from afar and I want to keep them in my life, and 95% of the time, they end up there without any outside effort on my behalf. This is why I believe that things happen for a reason, and it's also why I'm struck dumb and can't make sense of it when such matters fail the other 5 percent of the time. This week is one of those times, and I'm left sitting here wondering if my belief in a 'force much greater than luck' is just my convenient way of creating order out of chaos.

Does everything work if you let it, or does everything just kind of fall all over the place and let you conveniently forget the things that don't fall sensically?