I am not. But I am becoming. What am I becoming? That is up to me. What is not up to me is not me. I am what I make myself. And you dear reader…
It is easy to become in one direction and hard in another. But the way that is easy results in the end that is hard. And the way that is hard results in the end that is easy. An example? Producing patience. To produce patience requires acting patiently even when one is not. Such contradiction in one’s being is not easy to bear. You might call it a cross (crux…crisis). But to bear it is to become in the direction of patience. And to become patient is infinitely better than to become more impatient. Either is chosen. I feel some weight of choice. Do you?
It must be frustrating to live around he who is becoming. My hope is that it is less frustrating to be around he who is striving to become better than he who is striving to become in the direction that can hardly be named…worse.
I do not assert success. Asserting is cheap. Such are all the words on this page. They very well may be the expressions of a soul that can hardly be named…evil. Maybe what is most frustrating for he who wants security, and it is the animal in me that is desperate for it, is that from the animal perspective he who strives for good is often indistinguishable, from the third-person perspective, from he who strives for what can hardly be named…what is worse. The unnamable best is more inexpressible than the hardly namable evil. Example? The the father of faith (pre-Jew and Muslim and Christian)–a righteous pagan who is claimed by each social club that has named itself down here– looks like sin! He who strives after the divine looks like a child-murderer.
When I think of Abraham, that righteous pagan, I think of one walking alone, not caring what others think, not susceptible to the whims of the crowd, taking the path that he “thinks” the divine has shown him. He is silent. But he is walking.