Unbelievable

How do you know you believe something? I believe in God, but sometimes I go through periods of quite deep, dark, bleak doubt. The other day I was sitting in my conservatory jumping between polar opposites of conviction; one moment convinced the construction of a fabricated roof over my head proved beyond question the inevitability of a supreme being, the next denying the possibility of any being outside the sensible because I couldn't feel my toes in the cold. All I found though was that the more I focused on the 'super' natural, the more blurred the 'natural' became. How can I prove the existence of this table? Because I can see it and I can touch it and experience it. But experience is so black; sight is the only 'light' sensation, apart from that there is nothing, just whispers in the dark. If I couldn't see, all of my experiences would be take place in a uniform darkness, although I would physically be moving through different space. But from whose point of view? Not mine! I'm grasping here. What I'm trying to say is this: when I'm not in France, I find it incredibly difficult to believe in France. I'm still only partially convinced that at this exact moment in time, there are people in Australia, stretching themselves like cats on their sweat-soaked matresses as they wake to yet another swealtering sun-scorched day. And I'm quite firmly skeptical about the possibility of a Penguin sledding around on some snow in the middle of Antartica on his way to look for some fish. Actually, I'm quite skeptical about Penguins full stop. But all of this exists! It's really real! So I guess I'm trying to say I don't doubt my belief in God as much as I doubt my belief in belief. It's times like these when you start to understand why Nietzsche, Sartre and Hegel were so blue. There comes a time, it seems, when the only healthy option is to run outside chasing squirrels.