The Art of Bouncing Back

I think the center of my faith is an absolute certainty of good. Like everyone else, I get low and there are times when I feel as if I have my fins on backwards and am swimming upstream in heavy boots. But even in these dark times, even though I feel cut off, perhaps, and alone, I am aware—even if distantly—that I am part of a whole and that that whole is true and real and good.

I have never had any difficulty in believing in God. I don’t believe in a personal God, and I don’t quite see how it’s possible to believe in a God who knows both good and evil and yet to trust in Him. I believe in God, good, in One Mind, and I believe we are all subject to and part of this oneness.

It’s taken me time to understand words like “tolerance” and “understanding.” I have given lip service to “tolerance” and to “understanding” for years, but only now do I think I begin to understand a little what they mean. If we are all one of another, and this, though uncomfortable, is probably the case, then sooner or later we’ve got to come to terms with each other. I believe in the individuality of man, and it’s only by individual experience that we can, any of us, make a contribution to understanding.

I’ve always been a bit confused about self and egotism because I instinctively felt they were both barriers to understanding. And in a sense I think they are.

I used to worry a lot about personality and that sort of egotism. I noticed that certain artists—musicians, for instance—would allow their personalities to get between the music and the listener. But others, greater, and therefore humbler, became clear channels through which the music was heard unimpeded. And it occurred to me, not very originally, that the good we know in man is from God, so it’s a good thing to try to keep oneself as clear as possible from the wrong sort of self. And it’s not very easy, particularly if you are on the stage.

I am one of those naturally happy people who even when they get low soon bounce back. In minor things like housekeeping and keeping in sight of letters to be answered, I’m a Planny-Annie. That’s to say, I get through the chores in order to enjoy the space beyond. But I do find that believing in the operation of good as I do, I cannot make plans—important ones, I mean—but I must prepare the ground and then leave the way free as far as possible. This, of course, means being fearless and isn’t fatalistic, because you see I believe that when I am faithful enough to be still and to allow things to happen serenely, they do. And this being still isn’t a negative state but an awareness of one’s true position.

Friends are the most important things in my life—that and the wonder of being necessary to someone. But these things pass, and in the end, one is alone with God. I’m not nearly ready for that yet, but I do see it with my heart’s eye.

I don’t understand it entirely, but I believe that there is only now, and our job is to recognize and rejoice in this now, now. Not, of course, the man-measured now of Monday, Friday or whenever, but the now of certain truth. That doesn’t change. Surely everything has been done—is done. Our little problem is to reveal and enjoy.