When I was an infant, I didn’t ask questions – I just cried, ate, slept, and pooped. As I grew older, I asked questions about things I didn’t understand – my mother would argue I had a “why” question for just about anything at all. No matter the answer I’d get, I tended to accept my understanding of it as the truth. After all, I was asking my parents who were gigantic and therefor gods to me. I loved and trusted them because I knew no other way. They were sacred to me. I might question an answer – “And why is that, Mommy?” – but I’d never dream of questioning her or her motives! That was sacred ground not to be trodden.
I was so completely trusting and naive that it never occurred to me that I could question what I was taught. All I knew how to do was to accept what they told me as truth.
It was the beginning of a life-long journey in the sacred land of First-Second Degree of Illumination.
