Where the Heart

I don't only believe in chance.  I believe in God.  However, I'm pretty fuzzy on the definition of God.  I believe that prayer has enormous power.  I invoke angels when I hear a siren.  I promise St. Anthony money for the poor when I'm looking for lost things.  I celebrate Christmas (and many holidays) with a wide-open heart.  Faith has waxed and waned through my life, and I think I'm comfortable with that.  As I've mentioned before, religion makes me a little uneasy.  There is a lot that's good about forming community based in a common understanding of the universe and of moral values.  But obviously (to me) religion is a man-made construct. The truth about our universe, our creation and our immortal souls is the same for all of us, whatever we may believe.

It's clear to me that death is part of the bargain for all of us.  This life is precious because it is fleeting.  I do find myself completely uncertain about whether any part of our consciousness goes on.  I'd like proof if possible.  But I wonder if it matters.  People who have died may or may not exist in the future, but they most certainly exist in the past, and the past exists in the present.  To exist in someone's heart is to exist.  Existence in dreams and imagination is existence.  Matter and energy continue.  For now, I'll just treasure the days of this life.  Someday, if I keep my wits, I'll know what's next.

The painting is a depiction of my kitchen.  I love to paint out in nature, but I think painting the landscapes of my interior could be nearly as nice.  And I could do it in my pajamas.