(More from the Sonoma expedition)
Yesterday I stretched the truth, for the purpose of fiction.
Rachel did not question the word "heartened" and she was once happy also. I remember it well.
The post may have hurt her feelings. That wasn't my intention.
Many things, when examined closely, when held under scrutiny, become a seeming untruth. It is the nature of doubt. Some do not know its joys, nor its potential purpose.
Writing, when done well, uses the invention of fiction to approach truth.
Doubt has the sole appearance of negativity to the mediocre mind. Conviction in the unproven is preferable to many, a devoted certainty to the nebulous. When presented with the unexplainable, well, then it just must be the hand of the haze…
God picks up where science leaves off, we're told.
God picks up where science leaves off, we're told.
Doubt creates possibility against dogma. It acts in the eternal defense of suggestion.
I'm going to start referring to "god" as "the haze." When I hear people use the term then I will substitute the phrase "the haze" for their god. That should bring me some little joy for a time.
The haze will be my higher power, whatever I conceive him to be….
It is easy to mock, too.
Doubt does not necessarily need to contain the kernel of humor, though. But I certainly prefer it that way.
"I was spending some devotional time in the haze the other day, just waiting for the befuddled's blessings, to feel the hand of the blur moving in my life. After a long time searching, the room suddenly filled with vision vapors and I heard a howling in the distance. It was the mist moving. The baying haze sent me a message: to live my life in service to the cloud. When I heard the haze speaking... you had better believe I listened. I got on my knees and invited the haze deep into my heartbeat."
In the picture above, I forgot to use the virtual horizon. It shows.
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