Skip to main content

What I Believe In

What I Believe (Not an exhaustive list)

I believe in autumn with its cozy evenings and crisp mornings, its falling leaves and fading colors, its slow pace and its call to long forgotten memories.
I believe in movies and the movie theater with its dark anticipation and couples huddled around a box of popcorn sharing a large soda, its giant screen and high back seats, its opportunity for escape and the chance to be transformed in 90 minutes.
I believe in children with their shining eyes and raspy voices and endless giggles, their open arms and sparkling unblemished hearts, their enduring energy and their flawless uninterrupted sleep.
I believe in the Christmas of my childhood with its manger scene beneath the tree, its limited gifts, its shiny foil icicles, its wintry feel, its reverence for something no marketing scheme could ever match.
I believe in Roe vs. Wade, in Gay rights including the right to marry, in Equal Rights, in Civil Rights, in a woman’s right to choose without intimidation, in the right to be wrong, to express independence, to stand up to The Man, to choose a different path, to follow your heart whatever the consequences.
I believe in Democracy, in liberal politics, in Franklin D. Roosevelt and the New Deal, in Food Stamps for the deserving, in Planned Parenthood, in Climate Change and Gun Control and the pursuit of Peace.
I believe in Term Limits for office holders, in professionalism in Congress, in the work of bipartisan cooperation, in the old handshake and the worth of a solemn vow, in doing away with gerrymandering and dirty tricks.
I believe in the spiritual, in the soul, in the sacred, in something hallowed that can’t be confined within a church or a Bible or some preacher’s narrow theology.
I believe in hard work and fair pay, in pay equity for women in the workforce, in the Affordable Care Act.
I believe in defending the underdog, in confronting bullies, in rescuing the defenseless, in fiercely opposing injustice.
I believe in poetry and its romance with words, its making sentences dance, its lofty thoughts and dark moods, its digging beneath the surface to find the lost truth.
I believe in the long slow deep kiss, the kiss that levels mountains and shakes the stars from the sky, the kiss that causes angels to faint and demons to weep, the kiss that lingers hours after it has ended.
I believe in elegance, and perfume, in women who treat themselves to manicures and pedicures, who believe in their gifts, who use their minds, who are fearless in protecting their children, whose strength is shown in more ways than men can equal.
I believe in the baseball stadium with its green grass and clean diamond, its cheering crowds and corny music, its cold beer and small hotdogs, its centerfield fence and the homerun hitters.
I believe in laughter, in the chuckle and the snicker, in foot stomping laughter, in the jaw aching and tear producing laughter that leaves people sighing in the glow of their humanity.
I believe in dogs, in their unfailing loyalty, in their beauty, in the mischief they create and the companionship they offer and the comfort they bring.
I believe in thinking, in learning, in the new idea and the never realized insight, in the vast education of books, in the novel’s classroom, and the character building of the biography, and the power of a memoir’s story.
I believe in goodness.
I believe in compassion.
I believe in love.


© 2013 Timothy Moody

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

We are Made for Human Connection

There are words from Brandi Carlile’s song, “The Story,” that I might sing, and perhaps you, too. “All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to” You don’t have to be single or alone to feel the depth of those words. Someone in a longtime marriage or relationship might feel them, too. The voyage through life takes each one of us through an assortment of experiences. Some of them ennoble us. Some crush us. Some lift us beyond ourselves and carry us into the lives of those who need us. And some carry us to those we need. Some experiences are burdens. Others ease and encourage us. Some leave us baffled and unsure. Some build confidence within us and are so affirming that we grow in substance, in courage, in tenderness, and sympathy. As we age, the lines in our faces can represent the hurts we have not yet resolved. Or t

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want

Remembering Dr. Bill Craig

In Memoriam  Dr. Bill Craig January 1, 2020 In the Hebrew Bible, we see from the life of Moses, and the Psalmist, Isaiah and others , concern for the problem of living rather than the problem of dying.   Their primary interest was not how to escape death, but rather, how to sanctify life. Bill modeled that kind of wisdom.  The brilliant novelist Louis L'Amour, who wrote bestselling books about the American West, what he called “frontier stories,” basically said the same thing. He wrote, “The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail.” No one attempted to sanctify life and get more out of the trail than Bill Craig. He was a deep thinker, a gifted veterinarian, a rugged and unbreakable man with the kindest heart and the purest motives.  He was a loving and devoted husband, father, and grandfather. Karen, Shalor and Melissa, Kellan, Nolan and Carter, were his world. They meant everything to him. I guess he had faults, but I don’t remember any of them.  There was o