Lately, I have been giving deep thought to the connection between the words ignorance and ignore. So often, it feels like ideas and solutions to the world’s problems are sidelined when they could most easily be implemented, exacerbating, and even compounding, interrelated challenges where these intersect most tightly.

But delay is not the worst potential outcome of such approaches when one considers some of the possible effects of their long-term application: forgetting.

I’ve loved learning about the idea, recently, that every one of us, to the degree that we err, does so because, to one degree or another, we’ve forgotten who we really are.

Of course, once something is forgotten – even if on purpose – there is nothing the forgetter can do to remedy the situation on his or her own. He or she requires grace, help, forgiveness, and support, in addition to a humility and deep willingness to reform.

Along these lines, I’ve been pondering a series of scenes from the film “The Abyss” recently with regard to how frightening the unknown, however wonderful it is, can be, and I love the analogy of the submersible crew’s breathing liquid to illustrate this point given the leap of faith involved.

It’s interesting, in a more historical sense, to ponder the history of once-land-dwelling cetaceans who went back to their home and the sea.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that, the more I make decisions (even if they are only invisible ones, like forgiving more) based on faith in God rather than appearance, the more this is the only way of living I find bearable.

So, as I face a new set of decisions in what can sometimes feel like unglamorous situations, I’m grateful to have this moment to be reminded in the face of fear where I’m choosing to locate myself inwardly: in the only place I ever feel, or ever have felt, comfortable – in deep, far over my head. In pink goo.