On my way home from work, I heard a really good radio essay on NPR–as part of their “This I Believe” series. It captures, in many ways, my own personal belief in God. I hope you enjoy.
How Do You Believe in a Mystery?
by Loudon Wainwright III, Singer-songwriter
Morning Edition, June 19, 2006 · Here’s a question: How do you believe in a mystery, in something you don’t understand and can’t prove? When we’re children we’re encouraged to believe in some mysterious things that turn out to not necessarily be true at all — things like the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny or the flag. Naturally, we’re disappointed after our illusions have been shattered, but usually we get over it. Some of us, however, become skeptical, even cynical, after that.
I’ve been asked on many occasions how I write my songs. Often I’ll glibly reply, “I sure don’t wake up in the morning and sharpen pencils.” Then I’ll admit how lazy and lucky I am, and how successful and downright great some of the more notorious pencil sharpeners have been — two of my heroes, Frank Loesser and Irving Berlin, being among them.
If I’m feeling expansive I’ll bring up the mysterious aspect, the mere five to 10 percent that matters the most — what’s commonly called “the inspiration.” That’s the thing beyond the technique and the discipline, when the sharpening and the gnawing stop, and something, as they say, “comes to you.” It’s a bit like fishing, really. There’s certainly luck involved, but maybe what you took for laziness was (and I’m going out on a limb here) a sort of divine relaxation.
When I write what I consider to be a good song, when I realize it’s going to hang together, when I somehow manage to get it into the boat, so to speak, I invariably find myself looking upwards and thanking something or even, dare I say it, Someone. If I’m alone, my heartfelt thank you is often an audible one. Oh, yes, I’ve been known to mutter a few words at the head of the table at Thanksgiving dinner, or hoarsely whisper an “amen” at a wedding, funeral or Christmas pageant, but usually it is just embarrassed lip service. As a rule I don’t give thanks at a dinner table or in a church pew. For me, it happens when I’ve been hunched over a guitar for a few hours.
I believe in the power of inspiration, in the mysterious gift of creation — creation with a small “c,” that is — creation as in one’s work, hauling in the day’s catch. When I write a song, I’m happy for a few days and it’s not just because I’ve been reassured that I still have a job, though that’s certainly part of it. Mostly I’m happy, I think, because I’ve experienced a real mystery. I haven’t the slightest idea how it happened or where or from whom or what it came. I’d prefer not to know. In fact, I’d prefer not to talk about it anymore. It might scare the fish away.
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When I write a song, I’m happy for a few days and it’s not just because I’ve been reassured that I still have a job, though that’s certainly part of it. Mostly I’m happy, I think, because I’ve experienced a real mystery. I haven’t the slightest idea how it happened or where or from whom or what it came. I’d prefer not to know.
The mystery is not so much how LWIII came to write “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road” but how it, pretty much alone of his songs, came to get air time on the radio.
For Latter-Day Saints, “how do you believe in a mystery?” is answered in Alma 26:22.
I am currently reading about eastern meditation from a psychological point of view.
It is interesting that meditation aims at stopping rational objective thought and listen to the intuitive, emotional thoughts that are beyond words.
The first exercise in meditation is counting your breath.
“Count your breath, from 1 to 10, then start at 1 again.” It’s as simple as that, but if you do it, you will recognize that you can’t. For thoughts pop up in your mind to distract you.
The mind is an amazing thing. And although we THINK to know ourselves, we only know a small portion, namely the rational portion of our mind.
Exercises like meditation can bring you to know the other parts of your mind too.
The parts that work subconsciously when you want to write a song.
In japanese martial arts, similar things are happening. A master of Kendo or another sport is not the one who has a perfect technique but who stops using his rational brain to figure out where to hit next.
Instead, he will let his intuition/subconscious mind lead the stick, as if the stick itself had a soul.
That’s how the amazing skills of eastern martial arts stem from.
Luk 17:21 “Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.”
Don’t seek the miraclous in the outer world (e.g. looking for proofs of the BoM archaeology), but search for the kingdom of God where it resides, WITHIN YOU.
John,
I believe. The mystery he relates comes right down to human experience. The intelligence that flows into his mind that he recognizes as what must be an outside source. The intuitive. People try to reason this as psychology, but even psychology and neurology, which I happen to be rather well educated, cannot explain the mystery of human thought. There is a palpaple reality to prayer, meditation, flashes of insight or inspiration. In the church we obviously recognize this as the influence of the Holy Spirit. Being an intuitive event, and objective if can fly in the face of reason, but I don’t feel that is ever a reason to be discounted. I listened to the original podcast as well and enjoyed it too. I found it striking that here is a man who receives something that seems to him clear evidence of a power beyond himself and yet he is afraid to dwell on the implications. I truly believe that bursts of insight, intuition, revelation, spiritual affirmation are ways that all truth is brought into this world and to me it is a beautiful indication of God’s love for us. Thanks for sharing