(F x Y) + (K x X) = Belief

The above diagram came up in the course of a Google Images search for "Belief." There were better images I could have chosen, images of children looking skyward or the Japanese sign for Belief, but I find myself in a left-brain mood. Curious, I clicked on the image to learn more. This took me to a software coding site where it was part of a discussion about video game player skill levels.   
"Rather than assuming a single fixed skill for each player, the system characterizes its belief using a bell-curve belief distribution (also referred to as Gaussian) which is uniquely described by its mean μ (mu) ("peak point") and standard deviation σ (sigma) ("spread"). An exemplary belief is shown in the figure," it read. As best I understand this theory, I disagree with it entirely. 

I have been thinking a lot about the idea of Belief lately; how it works, what it is made of. Mountain climbing, after all, requires a fair bit of Belief. I see Belief as being quite different from optimism, which is also critical to success in mountain climbing. I have never met a Summiter who was a pessimist. Optimism is a sense that things will work out regardless. I fell into a crevasse once and, hanging from a rope, thought "boy, this is going to make for a great story later on." That is optimism. But belief is different.

I spent Christmas of 2006 with my sister, Noelle, and her family in Anchorage, Alaska. In the restless space between Christmas and New Years, my brother in-law, Ty, suggested we make a winter attempt of Wolverine Mountain in the nearby Chugach Range. I had never camped in the snow, but knew we would be doing plenty of it during the attempt we planned to make on Denali the following spring. This seemed like a good chance to get my feet wet frozen. We packed and left for Wolverine.

Ty and I climbed all morning with heavy packs before stopping to set up camp. The daylight hours during Alaskan winters are few and dim. Thus we started for the summit at 3:00pm with headlamps on. But the weather turned nasty and our progress slowed. High winds were gusting and a remarkable amount of snow accompanied them. My body felt heavier and heavier as the horizontal snow pelted and stuck to me. As we reached an exposed ridge a series of powerful blasts thrashed us. We dropped to our bellies to avoid being blown off the mountain, but even then felt it prying like a tool that removes tics. We stood for a moment when the wind rested. "We better bugger off this ridge," I said as another blast hit and we again dropped to our bellies.   All that night we took turns shoveling snow off the tent and trying to fortify it from within against the tempest without. All the while I kept looking at Ty, trying to read any sign of worry on his face. There was none. I believed we were going to be fine. This belief was based 100% on faith, my faith in Ty. Ty also believed we were going to be fine. His belief was based 100% on knowledge. Ty had twice climbed Mt McKinley and seen much worse than this along the way. Though we would later learn that this blizzard was sufficiently strong enough to knock out power to half of the community of Eagle River, our separate beliefs allowed us to experience that night with a giddy haunted house excitement.

As I recall other times in my life where I experienced belief it occurs to me that each constituted some combination of Faith and Knowledge. The curious thing to me is that they all felt the same. It is as though there are no degrees of belief.. It is an absolute. If it is mixed in an eight ounce glass and you remove a single teaspoon you no longer have belief. Once the glass is full you can try adding more but it will just run over onto the counter. In the end belief is a cocktail mixed with varying portions of faith and knowledge, yet always tastes the same.