Faith is not fullness, but emptiness. It is not in the solid ground that awaits when we leap, but in the space in between. It is not in the hope that we wish to always cling to, but in the despair that drugs us into a constant search for hope in the many places it likes to flutter about. Faith is never in the knowing for sure, but always in the unconscious bewilderment and wonder for all that ever is and may or may not be.
Think of your head as a city map bustling with highways, favored shortcuts, parks and pit stops, exhilarating viewpoints, favorite restaurants and attractions. When you sit down to meditate, you say, “Forget it all, I want to grow flowers.” So you have taken time out to sit down, decided to hush the living map in your head, and now you are just starting to find small pockets of soil, you are tilling the earth and planting seeds. You water them. You bask in the sunlight. You wait. Just breathe, smile, trust, it will grow.