Blind Faith

Blind Faith

Have you ever stayed awake for fourteen hours listening to the grass grow? Smelled the sweet scent of a snowfall? Felt the moonlight on your face? Tasted the wind of a sunset?

They say that I am different. That I have an ailment, something that stops me from being whole. Whole? What is whole, but a perception, something seen by people as "the norm." So what makes me different? I have two arms, two legs, two hands, two feet, and two eyes. So am I really so different from you, from "the norm?" Let me ask you, can you feel with lost hands? Can you taste with no tongue? Can you hear with deaf ears? Or smell with a stuffed nose?

But who am I to judge? I'm just one that isn't "whole," one who must "see" with sunken eyes. But then you live with phrases like “seeing is believing,” and “don't believe everything you see.” So, truly, is there really such a thing as "blind faith?" Or do you have to be blind in order to have faith?

Not being able to see then brings the question "what do I believe in?" I can't see to believe, I can't believe because I don't see. So what do I believe? I hear the grass, I smell the snow, I feel the moon, I taste the wind. My "blind faith" helps me believe in everything I can't see.

Come to think of it, maybe you are the one with the ailment, the one who is different, the one who isn't "whole." I have tasted the wind of a sunset. Felt the moonlight on my face. Smelled the sweet sent of a snowfall. Stayed awake for fourteen hours listening to the grass grow. So tell me... can you?