This is stunning.
"I call, I cling, I want - and there is no one to answer - no one on whom I can cling - no, no one. - Alone ... where is my faith?"
"How can you assume the lover's ardor when he no longer grants you his voice, his touch, his very presence?"
"The more I want him - the less I am wanted"
Who would believe this of her? And yet..
to be able to live in complete doubt, but complete trust, at the same time, and
to have hidden it, kept so many from knowing her doubts, for so long, and
to still, even in the midst of the greatest dryness, retain the intense desire to believe..
hm.
This is really familiar.
I'm glad I haven't waited until after my death to begin to talk about my crisis of faith.
But I also wish I hadn't waited nearly 50 years to begin.
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1 comment:
1) I think we need to review the definition of 'stunning'.
2) You will never talk yourself out of a crisis of faith. Certainly you won't if you make it a focal point of your identity. Quit acting the role of martyr; it's unbecoming, not worthy of respect, and it does nothing to better your 'crisis'. And if you think you are NOT acting, just remember - this is a public medium, you have exhibitionist tendencies, and you overdramatized here repeatedly in what I can only assume is a ploy for sympathy.
And please don't respond to this with a 'pity poor me, I get so easily confused' comment.
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