What is living a pious life like? I’m not quite sure.
“Just like boxing” is my guess. You bob in, weave to the side, keep punching, keep stalking, knee strike here and there if Muay Thai serves as a better analogy for your particular brand of spirituality, exhaust yourself, and when the bell rings, drink Tropical or Pocari Sweat or maybe just water, and wait for the next round. That time is your only respite; to your weary body that time is sacred—because in around thirty seconds, you’re back up on the canvas, wheezing and bouncing and trying to scramble around for a few good hits. This process repeats itself in a seemingly unending cycle, and hopefully the good hits spell out something good on the scorecards.
Many men of faith are not men of complete certainty—hence the very concept of “faith.” The dark night of the soul is almost expected; practically everyone must undergo it. And yet everyone has their own life experiences, weaving in and out in very certain, particular patterns, and having very distinct styles, just like boxers in the ring—some float like butterflies and sting like bees, some rely on raw power and venture into the food grilling business after retirement. Some people find their answers openly, but for the most part it’s an issue of living into the answers and not of reading or even studying theology and philosophy.
It’s about closing the boxing tutorials on YouTube and hitting the gym.
