Small Experiment

Stand before a mirror and project onto it your certainties about God—whether you are a believer or an atheist, it makes no difference. Forget your memories and remember forgetting: that primal mist where the sacred breathes. Look at your beliefs in this rear-view mirror of the soul and breathe in: they are not reversed there, no. They reveal the future already in motion.

Do not turn around; never turn your back on the future again.

Feel the ancestral breath on your neck, an odor of humus like a millennial memory that precedes your own, of which your beliefs are the sap flowing from root to fruit. Look at yourself. Observe that reflection in the glass that is no longer quite your own. It is the glimmer of a God not ancient but becoming, a God begging you to let it live, whose invisible lips brush your ears.

Forget the mirror in order to see the world through the perspective of a God neither eternal nor dead, but who has not yet finished being born.

If a shiver runs through your body, know that it comes neither from you nor from any pseudo-mystical experience. It is the shiver of life, crouched in the blind spot of your certainties, sensing in your hairline cracks a way out to escape.