believe
Definition: | accept as true, credit with veracity, follow a credo, judge or regard |
Synonyms: | v. 1. maintain, assert, opine, hold, consider, regard, conceive, trust, have faith in, confide in, credit, accept, affirm, swear by, have no doubt |
Quotes: | ♦ In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true. — Buddha
♦ I believe that every person is born with talent. — Maya Angelou
♦ The probability that we may fail in the struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause we believe to be just. — Abraham Lincoln
♦ 20. Believe in the holy contour of life — Jack Kerouac from BELIEF & TECHNIQUE FOR MODERN PROSE |
Antonyms: | disbelieve, distrust |
I believe…
Do you believe in the Lock Ness Monster, the Man in the Moon, Santa Claus? Do you believe in finding Big Foot, flying saucers, ghosts in the machine? Do you believe this year will be better than the last? Do you believe in yourself, your visions, your dreams? The things I believe change from year to year, decade to decade. I used to believe in the tooth fairy, the Velvet Underground, peace, love and rock and roll. What do you believe?
In the 1950s, a radio program called This I Believe was hosted by journalist Edward R. Murrow. Each day, Americans gathered by their radios to hear essays from people like Eleanor Roosevelt, Jackie Robinson, Wallace Stegner, Helen Keller, and Harry Truman—anyone able to distill the guiding principles by which they lived into a few minutes. (For inspiration, you can listen to essays on broadcasts from the 1950s at This I Believe.)
What are the principles by which you live? Are they different than they were two, three, or four years ago? Do you hang around friends who share your beliefs? Or push to expose yourself to other ways of thinking. The goal of the contemporary version of This I Believe (revived on NPR in 2004) was not to persuade Americans to agree on the same beliefs, but to encourage people to develop respect for beliefs different from their own.
Get out your fast writing pens and write the Topic I believe… at the top of your spiral notebook (or start tapping away on your computer or Smartphone).
You can write a haiku, tanka, or gogyohka practice and post it in the comments.
Or you may be surprised at what you discover when you follow the rules of Writing Practice —- I believe…, 10 minutes, Go!
-posted on red Ravine, Monday, January 2nd, 2012
I believe that something in the world is listening. I believe our thoughts are the rain that nourishes it. I believe that the unknown grows exponentially in relationship to what we think we know. I believe that once we’ve witnessed anything, it has already past, like starlight. Once named, extinguished. I also believe that naming brings it into being. That words are the way to simultaneously create and destroy. That listening is the enactment of a kind of rebirth. I believe that we know ourselves best when we forget ourselves. I believe that everything we are told has value, all the baubles we are sold, all the status badges, are like the weights that keep a balloon from lifting off. I believe that we are greater and less significant than we can possibly conceive. I believe that if I don’t remember what came before being this that I do not need to worry about what comes after this. I believe the smallest acts of kindness ripple outward. I believe there are gifts beneath each tree. I believe that the image of a boat rowing away from home is the single most beautiful image after the image of a boat rowing home. I believe that I can hear the sound of the universe’s engine. It sounds like the my cat purring. It sounds like the tapping of a keyboard. It sounds like the cascade of all those interior weights when you are finally able to accept you that you can’t change the past but you can change this now. I want to believe that there is something in the world that can hear me, but know that something is in me not out there. Listen. Believe in the sensation of fingertips against keys, the music of here and now.
LikeLike
Laura,
You’ve written a beautiful expression of a world constantly being discovered, created and re-created. Thank you for sharing this way of encountering the world, of living out your beliefs. I especially appreciate “That words are the way to simultaneously create and destroy. That listening is the enactment of a kind of rebirth.” I wonder what it would be like – what would happen, what I would find – if every day I wrote “I believe” at the top of a page and wrote. To live in conscious engagement with my core beliefs, even if they aren’t always as wonderfully expressed and positive as these you’ve shared here, would be such a gift. Thank you.
LikeLike
Laura, beautiful. I feel peaceful sitting with your words and have great appreciate that you shared them here. Especially moving to me is the image of the row boat:
I believe that the image of a boat rowing away from home is the single most beautiful image after the image of a boat rowing home
Especially joyful to me, the sound of your cat:
I believe that I can hear the sound of the universe’s engine. It sounds like the my cat purring.
LikeLike
Sandrarenee – Thank you for your generous response. You’ve captured the sense of churning that fueled this – the world a work in progress. I started this with the notion that I could omit the “want” in I want to believe and it changed my perspective and the direction this took. I like your idea of starting each day with “I believe” as a way to manifest writing. I believe it’s worth trying.
LikeLike
QuoinMonkey – Thank you for posting this topic! I believe I added some extra and alternate words. I love the surprises that sometimes emerge from writing practice. I didn’t know if anything would spark or not but am happy that I gave it a try and kept the hand(s) moving. I appreciate the specific lines that have been mentioned in the responses. It’s good to know what resonates with readers.
LikeLike
I believe in driving south out of Albuquerque with my husband, Tom, together leaving our new city after 18 months – and I believe in wanting to see what else is out there. I believe in asking questions of what I see beside the highway: the miles of junkyards and abandoned light industrial buildings in the South Valley, flowing OPEN WATER in acequias, a mile or two, at least, of trees planted, grid like, on a berm outside of Belen. And in questioning what I don’t see: results of the Iowa caucuses, the hopes and fears of my fellow citizens, my own. I believe in the sanctity of deserts, their open spaces, safe for now because people haven’t found anything there to exploit, and what we want there – the openness and rest – we want because of the nothing-ness. I believe in sitting in a hot spring pool with Tom, wrapped in each other’s arms, holding each other against the pull and bob of the water. I believe in the warmth we’ll make together, dressed in fleece and sleeping under four blankets in an unheated high-desert winter motel room. I believe that warmth will carry us through the night and into the morning, waiting for the sun to rise and warm the earth and this building she holds. I believe in the t-shirt Tom bought yesterday, the one that says, “I (heart) Truth or Consequences,” and the two small polished pieces of turquoise I wrapped tight in my hand for blocks after we left the store. These small items will carry us back here to this shared place and time whenever we touch them. More than this, I believe in the gift of the things Tom couldn’t buy me, the gift that he imagined me wearing them, or using them, is more solid than the necklace, the purse. I believe in the gift of herself Ruth, the artist we met on North Broadway, gave us when she invited us into her gallery, gave us her smile, enthusiasm, and passion for her work. I’ll remember her eyes and paintings whenever I hold the small square of her painting she gave me. I believe in the best green chile cheeseburger I’ve eaten since I moved here, and I’ve eaten more than a few. A cheeseburger belief? Yes, because of the being whose life was taken for the meat, the farmers who grew the chile in fields just 40 miles southeast of here. Because of the people who built this restaurant, their dream and their ambition, who cooked the food with care and love, and the people who gather here in each other’s company to be nourished. I believe in sitting here, writing this, and sending it out for people to read. And I believe in what we will do soon, depart this place, drive to the Plains of San Agustin and marvel at the radio antenna, dishes pointed at the sky in the Very Large Array, listening, hoping to hear from the starlight that made us. Then returning, but not going back, to home, which I believe in with all my heart.
LikeLike
Sandrarenee – So good to see your response to this prompt. A journey into the present. It’s so easy to get overwhelmed by possibility. So much better to dwell in actuality and yet continue to question. I’m drawn to those restful, unexploited places, too. Happy travels to you and Tom. I know you’ll find much to write about out there. “Listening, hoping to hear from the starlight that made us” – a fine purpose for the Very Fine Array and those who seek.
LikeLike
sandrarenee, thank you for sharing your Writing Practice on red Ravine. Wonderful to read your words.
RECALL:
the sanctity of deserts, their open spaces, safe for now because people haven’t found anything there to exploit
what we want there – the openness and rest –
together, dressed in fleece and sleeping under four blankets in an unheated high-desert winter motel room
two small polished pieces of turquoise I wrapped tight in my hand
people who gather here in each other’s company to be nourished
drive to the Plains of San Agustin and marvel at the radio antenna, dishes pointed at the sky in the Very Large Array
listening, hoping to hear from the starlight that made us
returning, but not going back, to home
LikeLike
Good Morning, Laura and QuoinMonkey,
Thank you for your thoughts. Laura, I agree that possibility is overwhelming, but the times I’m grounded enough to ride the winds of possibility without just spinning in circles are grand. I think that’s where spending time in the restful, unbusy places is helpful.
QuoinMonkey, thanks for the poem you found in the practice. Thank you, especially, for posting this practice. In the last few days “I believe” has opened many doors. I’m grateful.
Sandra
LikeLike
[…] in something more and larger than ourselves and what we see around us. But it does start there, believing in ourselves, what we see around us, the lives we lead. From there, we […]
LikeLike
I found myself writing in the negative “I don’t believe…” When I finished I felt constricted as though I had affirmed all of the beliefs I don’t believe in. I sat in silence and then wrote “I believe…” and said what I believe. I think my write may appear here some day. It’s always interesting to see my writing in print to see what I said. I believe in writing practice with all of my being. QM, thanks for the topic and the opporunity to write on it.
Thanks, Laura and Sandrarenee for your writings and thoughts. I look forward to reading more from both of you.
LikeLike
Bob,
“It’s always interesting to see my writing in print to see what I said. I believe in writing practice with all of my being.” Your first sentence is a strong affirmation on a morning I had to keep reminding myself not to decide beforehand what was going to show up on the paper once I sat down. There’s a fine line between not being able to get to the paper quickly enough and coming with my mind closed. Like you, I like what’s revealed. Your second sentence has shown up in a couple of different forms in each of the “I believe” practices I’ve done since QuoinMonkey posted this.
Thank you for your comments. I hope I do see your writing practice here.
Sandra
LikeLike
[…] Comments « WRITING TOPIC — I BELIEVE… […]
LikeLike
[…] WRITING TOPIC — I BELIEVE… is the latest Writing Topic on red Ravine. Frequent guest writer Bob Chrisman joined QuoinMonkey, […]
LikeLike
Sandra, since the first time I did writing practice I knew it was a way to get past the surface on most any topic. Sometimes I’m too blocked to go deep, but I still find out something about how my brain works. I find that I think of song lyrics related to the topic and I’m off writing down what I remember of the lyrics which then takes me somewhere else. Meditating before I write helps free my mind.
I teach writing practice now. I’m reminded of the magic of it on days when someone writes and then reads aloud. In the reading aloud something happens and deep emotions come to the surface. The group holds the space for the person to have their emotional response.
LikeLike
I believe that reaching your dreams is possible – sometimes – as long as you just don’t sit and dream, but weave and work at attaining those dreams. I believe that I am called upon to do, and I may not finish, and that is OK as long as I continue as I am able. I believe that I have strength enough to walk my path. I believe that nature is my rejuvenator and that as long as I am grounded deeply with the earth, there is always possibility.
LikeLike
Bo, the work is so important. Some days it’s hard to find the grit to work. On those days, I settle for inspiration where I can get it. This week, I feel more inspired. Hopefully, that will carry me on the days when I don’t. Thanks for sharing. One of the hardest things for me is to let go of what I can not finish. I had to do that in 2011 and it took some work. So necessary though, to take breaks and take stock.
LikeLike
Practice: I believe 10 minutes. Mike Carter
I believe in the basic goodness of humankind, although it is not a good idea to tempt the Devil within.
I believe in the words of Robert Duvall in the Movie “ It’s a Family thing, that You should always have something to look forward too. And also to give your loved ones something to look forward to. This occurs in a scene where he is giving advice to his troubled nephew.
I believe that the Australian invention of vegemite is an abomination while Nutella is another matter.
I believe in living life as an experiment according to the Buddhist master Pema Chodron, although I rarely take my own advice.
I believe in the three minute rule- whatever that is.
I believe in the existence of life on other planets, while I believe equally that our planet is the only with viable life forms and therefore we really should take care of the blue marble as it is the only one out there. Hence the paradox.
I believe if we can live inside the paradoxes and the corresponding tension we can achieve some kind of balance. Don’t reject the paradoxes.
I believe the changes, “they are a comin”, though I find myself more resistive as I age into my sixties.
I believe real bacon is the caviar of Northwest cuisine.
I believe there are unanswered questions about the Kennedy assassination.
I believe we will find a cure for cancer in my lifetime. Wishful thinking?
I believe in wishful thinking.
I believe it is easier to write about chocolate than what I believe in.
I believe it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
LikeLike
Mike, thank you for sharing your Writing Practice. It gave me a lot to think about. I read it several times. The last line…I am still pondering. And I realize I have no idea what vegemite is even though I sang it all the time in the old Men At Work song about the land down under. Great sense of humor. For some reason, I’ve never taken to Nutella.
LikeLike
Thanks QM. I forgot that is in the Men at Work Song. Vegemite is made from the yeast based goo that forms in the bottom of the beer brewing kettles. It is an aquired taste and you have to grow up with it. Kind of like Menudo. I guess you have to try it once-vegemite-but I almost gagged. Actually I did gag. I did see some for sale in the British Store at Pike Place Market if you want to give it a go. You spread it on toast-like a jam. Probably really good for you as it is made from yeast.
LikeLike