A story came to me about faith. It might be an essay or a poem. Whatever it is, it told me something helpful so I share it with you:
I sat in an airless room one night thinking about faith and thinking I didn’t have any when a moth flew at the window. He was trying to get out into the night. The moth flew again and again at the glass with his cream-colored wings and wouldn’t stop. I admired his tenacity and faith that he could find the moon if only he kept trying. I opened the window and let him out into the night. I knew he wouldn’t make it to the moon, what a silly idea, though I could not help but admire his bright heart.
Later that night I sat down to meditate. A moth flew in the window and landed on my face. I realised at that moment I was the moon.
And the moth, at that moment, had achieved its goal.