A friend of mine, Judy Clement Wall, just updated her blog recently with a list of ten things she believes, now. I think the now part is significant. I think what we believe in changes throughout our life — maybe depending on who you think you are, who you actually are, or who you might be striving to be. So, the question of what do I believe in now is difficult at best.
When I was around 5, I truly believed that the Easter bunny was in my house, sneaking off with my newly decorated eggs. Over the years, I’ve asked my siblings if they ever actually saw the Easter bunny in our house (I’m not quite sure it didn’t actually happen).
When I was a kid, I spent every summer with my grandparents — (as the youngest, I suppose it was my duty). I believed without doubt that there was some sort of monster living in their basement. I never went down there alone. I even had dreams about the monster in the basement. In the dreams, I would walk down a narrow rope bridge into the basement. I could hear the monster growling lowly as I approached it. But, I always woke up before I had to see the full horror of the thing. That “believe” changed by the time I was 11 or 12, when I discovered that being alone wasn’t all bad and the basement was a great hiding out place.
When I was around 15 or 16, I believed I was going to play in Wimbledon. (No, seriously — I really thought it was possible). I hit a million balls off the back stop at my high school. I always wanted to practice with the boys because I thought it would give me an edge. And then I played a girl who had the same “believe”. Her “believe” seemed much more viable than mine as I exited the regional tournament quicker than I’d hoped.
What we believe in changes with age, with circumstances … with life.
Maybe my confusion comes from the word itself: believe. (I, of course, googled to see what the actual definition of the word was — it was spectacular). By definition: believe is to have confidence in the truth, the existence, or the reliability of something, although without absolute proof that one is right in doing so.
This explains so much really. The entire existence of this word is based on opinion, confidence — without proof. Maybe the answers aren’t always in the concrete — maybe the answers are somewhere floating around, hoping someone grabs on to them and takes them as their own.
So, what do I believe in…now?
I believe that everyone has something to offer. Even those we think are beyond reproach. Because, at some point in everyone’s life, they must have done something worthy of praise, something worthy of being believed in.
So, maybe, that’s my “believe” that I will take into the new year. That everyone deserves to be believed in — if only for a little while. Everyone deserves their “believe” to be plucked out of the air and made real.