When we were young we were told there was a God (capital G) who made all things and who knew everything we did and thought. It was a scary prospect but we were told if we didn’t believe it some pretty somber things were going happen to us, so not believing wasn’t an option.
As got into our teens we started to question everything about religion, based on our vast experience. We shed just about every belief except the belief in God. Everyone believe in a God, right? That was a foregone conclusion.
As we grew into middle age, married, had children, got a mortgage, it seemed quite obvious to us that even God, the one basic of religion, was a mere phantom. Moreover, we didn’t have time for God, to think the deep thoughts about eternity and heaven and all that.
When we segued into retirement we started to think about the aging process, watched our friends die in front of us, and wondered again about proof that there was really a God.f there was it seemed he/she had forsaken us.
As we neared death, the concept of God-in-our-mind became firmer. We learned that, yes, God existed, but only in our own minds. God, it seems, was a figment of our imagination that us humans needed to keep us going through our darkest nights.
Finally (finally!) we found God once again: Yes, he was only a figment of our imagination but, there he was, right alongside of us, hearing our prayers, our pleas, sympathizing with our suffering.
We now see the Buddha, the Tao, the Zen of life. We see that we make our own life, we find our own way through the swamp. We discover God where we put our feet down, wherever we lift our eyes, hear his song in the wind through the trees, see His face in the morning sunshine, smell his presence in the air from the sea. He had always been there for us, hadn’t he? We just hadn’t noticed him because we were too busy living the world we thought was real, but only turned out to be an artificial existence of an imaginary world.
The real world was here all the time, in our minds.