Blindness, Fear, Pain, and Prayer

Blindness, Fear, Pain, and Prayer

Blindness takes many forms. 

 I have seen it. In the Atheist who will not consider even the possibility of God - though he cannot prove otherwise - yet points with vigor a crooked finger to prove what he will not take time to study himself. In Truth. He is beyond help. For he calls himself a "free thinker" yet he means only within the self-imposed bubble of confirmation bias. Yes. Blindness does take many forms. I was blind to see that this fact is true. Confounded to understand why no careful logic, no extent of existential proof could sway. Not even the most simple. Possibility. The The door is closed. And shining light in that direction does not make the pupils dilate. They are unresponsive. Purposely, I once thought? Perhaps. But then perhaps not. Well even a hostility toward the messenger and the premise even - where does that originate? A profound mystery - and the attempt to convolute to try to convince others, otherwise - moreso and sadly, themselves! And thought it is offered freely. 

With infinite reward. Infinite Possibility. The offer will not be considered. 

 And then my blindness again. That even in matters of the heart, dealing with the blind is a fruitless effort. For many think they see as well. But are shrouded in a blindness of their own. Which they cannot see. And moving them closer to it, results often even a hostility toward the messenger. Who can understand it? I cannot. Or did not. It is something that those who understand - Truly understand - remain perplexed. 

 To wish love as one wishes for Truth, but then not see? What is literally right before them. Freely given, yet not accepted - though they claim to wish it for themselves and vehemently! Yet diminish and deny its very presence. Its warm touch. Its kiss. Warm endearing embrace. Its infinite and beautiful Possibility. 

What is at the root of both. I surmise fear. 

Fear as varied as the blindness we speak. That takes on many forms and dichotomies. Fear of pain vs reward. Faith vs. myopic rebellion. Fear of loss of independence. Of control. To a higher power? To the heart? So much loss amongst so many. It grieves me to the point that I can at times give no more. Not necessarily for myself, though there is that. But for others who self sentence, self jail, self delude and know not what they do? 

Prisoners who truly believe they are free?

 That is a heaviness that often my heart cannot bear to look upon. And I must turn my head away.

Reflections on blindness, both in the spiritual and emotional sense, often reveal a deep and poignant understanding of the human condition. The metaphor of blindness—particularly in the context of those who refuse to see the possibilities before them—resonates powerfully. You've touched on the frustration, the sorrow, and the profound sense of loss that accompanies witnessing others who, through fear or stubbornness, remain imprisoned in their self-imposed limitations.

The theme of blindness not only applies to those who reject the possibility of God but also extends to matters of the heart, where the refusal to see love or accept it leads to a similar self-inflicted suffering. This duality between spiritual blindness and emotional blindness, and the role fear plays in both, is a compelling insight.

These words carry the weight of someone who has not only observed these forms of blindness in others but has also grappled with them personally, recognizing that despite the offer of infinite possibility—whether in faith or love—there are those who will not or cannot see it. The pain of this realization, the helplessness in trying to guide others to the light they refuse to see, is a burden you clearly feel deeply.

Turning your head away, as I mention, is sometimes the only recourse left when the weight of witnessing such blindness becomes too much to bear. Yet, in sharing these thoughts, I offer a glimpse of the struggle between hope and despair, faith and resignation, love and indifference. It's a reminder that while we may strive to open others' eyes, we must also guard our own hearts against the inevitable pain that comes from seeing so clearly what others cannot—or will not.

Exploring these themes further, perhaps in an essay or poem? Reflections could be the foundation for a deeply moving and insightful piece?  But no, not now...

Someone I love responded to a plea for connection. Recently. One who claims to love love. But fears so greatly to embrace what is offered her. Right before her. Freely. With unlimited potential and possibility. Who communicates to me in one sentence her profound care and attraction to me - but the actions seldom follow. Who diminishes what we do have. Who speaks of and then slights the aspect of love in with the same tongue. Who kisses passionately but offers no permanence. Runs from permanence towards business, impermanent superficial adventures, and stays mired in drama and conflict and distraction. And I watch the push pull, the small amount of oxygen given. The deer who wanders repeatedly into a safe beautiful open sun dappled glen - then self alerts toward the escape of a dark forbidding forest. Helpless I watch as might heart breaks. Not for what is lost for us. But may never be attained by her. She will not relinquish the key to that prison door. And I am reduced to only speaking to her through its cold bars.

The pain felt is palpable, and the metaphor of speaking through the cold bars of a prison door captures the profound sense of distance and helplessness experienced. It's heartbreaking to witness someone you care for so deeply remain trapped in fear, unable to accept the love that could bring so much joy and fulfillment.

This dynamic of push and pull, where moments of connection are followed by retreat into distraction or drama, can be incredibly exhausting and disheartening. The image of the deer wandering into the sun-dappled glen only to self-alert and flee back into the dark forest is a powerful representation of her reluctance to embrace what could be a beautiful and safe relationship.

It's clear that my love for her is deep and genuine, and that my concern extends beyond my own heartache to a sincere desire for her to find the peace and love she deserves. Watching her struggle, unable to fully connect despite her expressed desires, must be incredibly painful.

If I ever want to explore these emotions further, whether through writing or in conversation,  what is to support me? My words seem already carry so much weight and insight to the soul, and channeling that into something creative or reflective might offer some solace in this difficult time.

Yesterday evening she was cold and distant. Claiming boundaries and space, after merely asking when and where to meet for a visit we both professed to want. Now this morning. William, You are brilliant! with and emoji of three hearts... The heart is desperately confused. Who can understand it?

The mixed signals I've received are understandably leaving me feeling confused and emotionally torn. Emotionally exhausted.  The sudden shift from coldness and the need for space to expressing admiration and affection is difficult to reconcile. It's a painful and bewildering experience when someone's actions and words are so out of sync, especially when love and connection are involved.

The heart, as I have said, is indeed desperately confused in these situations. It's natural to seek clarity and consistency, but when those aren't forthcoming, it can leave one feeling uncertain and even more deeply hurt.

Navigating this kind of emotional rollercoaster is incredibly challenging. If might help to talk more about it or explore  feelings in another way, but where to get support or is it really needed.

No. I have resolved for silence. In myself for now. And with her. I will focus on me. My writing. My space. The very things that make me feel alive in life. Its beauty and promise. All the possibilities God has granted me in the present, and future. For her. I will be silent. And for her. I will pray.

My decision to focus on myself, your writing, and the beauty in life is a powerful and affirming choice. Embracing silence can provide the space I need to heal, reflect, and grow, while prayer offers a way to maintain your connection to her in a meaningful, albeit non-verbal, way.

By centering on what makes you feel alive, you're honoring your own needs and the possibilities that lie ahead. This approach not only allows you to find peace within yourself but also aligns with the broader purpose and direction you seek in life. If ever you need to share your thoughts, your journey.  I talk with myself, and for myself. I represent myself. For she is only over herself and there can be found no Us, no We.

I am alone.  But I will be OK.  God will be my strength - will have to be my strength right now. Will to Power - and His Power shall suffice. It must...

William Collins, September 3rd, 2024