Finding God Again, Ten Years Later
I haven't posted an entry for my book in a couple weeks now. Mostly because I am waiting for others to help fill in my timeline. I have other chapters written just after waking up from my coma, and part of me wants to just post those. But that wouldn't follow the timeline and I want to get everything to connect, as maybe that's part of a healing process. Plus my story is always developing.
Anyways, my birthday was last week. I remember telling a friend when I was younger that I was excited to get older, as I believe, especially as a woman, I can gain more experience and respect with each year that passes.
On the flip side, I was going through some of my archived google docs and found entries of mine from myspace days. Does anyone remember myspace?
While I don't believe in staying stuck in the past, just as we learn history in school, I think it's important to revisit events that hold significance in our lives. So we can better understand what to think and do, versus what not to do. And sometimes we get a fresh perspective on something.
So I posted something on my blog from when I was 18, ten years ago! It's a little personal, but I think one of the most beautiful things in life that connects every human being is vulnerability. My views may have altered slightly since I wrote this, but that's also part of being alive.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Revelations
I spent six years as a devout agnostic. By "devout" I don't mean fervid, but more of unwavering. I had always found religion, or affiliations/labels of any kind, have only brought ignorance and intolerance. If you look throughout mankind's history, it's really only brought this superiority complex, ultimately decaying and destroying us. Therefore I neither believed nor disbelieved in God, I simply would not accept any specific belief as absolute. I coined myself "agnostic" because it was the closest label to my beliefs or lack thereof.
I know I've told some of my friends I now believe in God, as well as Jesus. And I know a lot of you probably don't care. But for those of you who are interested, or maybe just bored, I decided to post something I had scribbled down the day after I re-gained faith. It really happened in a time span of like 5 minutes. But time doesn't exist, only clocks exist, right? Everything just clicked in this moment. It was really an ineffable experience. I don't want to say it was a "spiritual awakening," because that's kind of cliche. I was relatively high when I wrote this, and that probably contributed to the insanity of it all. But I guess I wanted to relay my experience and what I scribbled down the day after.
The day I realized there has to be some sort of omnipotent architect. I literally curled up in a ball, clutched my legs like a child, and rigorously pinched at the flesh on my shins. I started thinking. WHAT am I? What is this? How? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why are we formed the way we are? To correlate with the Earth? But why was the Earth formed this way? To correlate with the sun? What is the point of all this? Why do we like, appreciate, love, perceive, suffer, sympathize, destroy, produce, understand, feel, emote, exist? WHAT THE HELL ARE WE CONSCIENCE OF OUR CONSCIENCE FOR?
I started thinking about my skin, this porous and waterproof, regenerating and excreting, sensing and pyrogenic dermal husk. I started contemplating my muscles, their strength and stamina, their ability and exertion, these contracting and extending collection of fibers. I thought about my heart, how despite my general disregard for its endurance, it has perpetually thumped in my chest and distributed my blood for eighteen of earth's revolutions. I put my hand on my chest and listened to its pulsations. I contemplated how it would eventually quit beating. How it would inevitably decay. How it was not all that different from a car's engine. I thought about my brain, how profoundly complex and vastly enigmatic it is. Without this body, without this tangibility, WHAT am I?
I tore myself apart mentally and stripped myself of this external reality.
I started thinking about space. I can barely even grasp this environment, filled with stars and gasses and moons and matter and energy. How, despite our ability to build pyramids with stone tools, compose symphonies, construct railroads, invent telephones, TVs, and computers with extremely complex electrical circuits, send a man to the moon, we define this indignantly large and incomprehensibly mysterious reality as simply "–noun 1. space beyond the atmosphere of the earth."
What was there before there was space? Before our galaxy, earth, humans, villages, people, me writing this sentence? What was there before there was ANY of this? Whether a person is Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, agnostic, or atheist, they can agree that there was a beginning. There was a "time" when there was absolutely nothing we see today, even before this alleged primordial atom. I find it almost comical anyone could genuinely believe ALL of this came from absolute nothingness.
We are figments of God's ridiculously immeasurable imagination.
We've now adequately labeled many objects and ideas, defining more than 200,000 words. We no longer question what the stars are made of, whether the earth is flat, whether the sun is a god. We have searched for and found answers. We have used math and science and history and technology and common sense to discover once unknown and feared frontiers.
Yet no matter how many books we read, people you talk to, stars we study, or ideas/objects/feelings we identify and define, we will never know certain truths as absolute. What defines true? What defines absolute?
Perhaps some would feel I'm contradicting myself. I cannot pull out an algebraic problem to prove that God exists. I can guarantee though, that since converting, and since perceiving everything (literally everything) from a new perspective, I don't know how I didn't believe before. I no longer look at the Earth and existence as a giant cryptic message waiting to be solved. It's artwork, it's a masterpiece. We are God's art. Every single last human being is an extension of Earth's beauty. It's amazing how detailed everything is, how intricate. I really think everything should be appreciated the way art is.
I once heard a quote, "The goal is not to live forever. The goal is to create something that will." Though this is nothing profoundly deep, I used to feel this summed up how many (want to/should) live their lives. But the world is going to end someday. Nothing can live forever. Even great artwork, poetry, and theories are going to be obsolete eventually. Mother Theresa, Adolf Hitler, Marilyn Monroe, all of their fame and integrity(or lack there of) will someday be gone. We will be gone. Whether through meteor, nuclear weaponry, divine intervention, or some other catastrophe—the Earth will come to an end. So what is the point if there will a be a "time" when there is no time? Is it just to enjoy this "randomly occurring" consciousness while we're alive? Is the point progression? Or IS there even a point?
I feel like looking at outer space alone should prove God's existence. Gravity pulls us toward our home, but why? Why does it matter if things exist? Why do things need to matter? There are stars light-years, kilo-light-years, even giga light-years away. The average human lifespan is about 70 years (that's not including third or even second world countries, so give or take). How infinitesimal we are! Maybe this is more of a reason to disprove a theistic view, but I think it proves of a designer even more. I think space is almost God's way of belittling or humbling us. We have all this technology and advancements. We are capable of achieving SO much. And yet "we never cease to stand like children before the great mystery into which we were born." I think God gave us mysteries and science and math to give us attainable goals and aid us in getting there. It gives all the conscienceless matter reason. It gives US reason.
Regardless of my newfound beliefs, I think it's rather pretentious and pointless for any religious person to try and dictate whether a person goes to heaven or hell or wherever. Regardless of where we think they go, it is not our decision. Who am I to say what happens? I think that is one of the grossest misinterpretations and misrepresentations of Christ. I've been rereading the new testament and never does he suggest intolerance or superiority.
I really think Jesus Christ was the son of God. I know there were countless other prophets claiming to be so. I also realize treating others with respect was nothing new to that time period (look at Aristotle!). But few other prophets sacrificed themselves the way Jesus did, and the Bible really was the most circulated text found to date. I think his life was exceptional. He was the ultimate martyr. He loved us all so much that his death was ultimately his way of establishing how important it is for us to love each other. There is more to life than all the frivolous things. Why do we spend our time here fighting and hurting when each of us has such little time in the first place.
I think one person wronged another person and it was a domino effect from there. I know that's silly, but really, I do. I think if we REALLY followed the actual Christ-like mentality the world WOULD be a better place. I don't mean followed most "Christians" misinterpretations. It's such a complicated matter because I feel like we have to have choices to truly be alive. People CHOOSE to belittle each other. People CHOOSE to fight. It's not ethical. But ethics is a choice. Choices make us alive. Perhaps that was God's biggest obstacle: to have us be genuinely, authentically, ridiculously alive, there has to be the duality of good and evil, and the ability to choose.
I believe good and bad and life, in general, is our chance to develop our souls and help others to develop theirs. I also think your "gut instinct" is the Holy Spirit. Just as the average human being knows what good is, just as one feels in their innermost core that murdering another human being is wrong, I now feel deep in my core that God exists.
I started thinking about space. I can barely even grasp this environment, filled with stars and gasses and moons and matter and energy. How, despite our ability to build pyramids with stone tools, compose symphonies, construct railroads, invent telephones, TVs, and computers with extremely complex electrical circuits, send a man to the moon, we define this indignantly large and incomprehensibly mysterious reality as simply "–noun 1. space beyond the atmosphere of the earth."
What was there before there was space? Before our galaxy, earth, humans, villages, people, me writing this sentence? What was there before there was ANY of this? Whether a person is Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, agnostic, or atheist, they can agree that there was a beginning. There was a "time" when there was absolutely nothing we see today, even before this alleged primordial atom. I find it almost comical anyone could genuinely believe ALL of this came from absolute nothingness.
We are figments of God's ridiculously immeasurable imagination.
We've now adequately labeled many objects and ideas, defining more than 200,000 words. We no longer question what the stars are made of, whether the earth is flat, whether the sun is a god. We have searched for and found answers. We have used math and science and history and technology and common sense to discover once unknown and feared frontiers.
Yet no matter how many books we read, people you talk to, stars we study, or ideas/objects/feelings we identify and define, we will never know certain truths as absolute. What defines true? What defines absolute?
Perhaps some would feel I'm contradicting myself. I cannot pull out an algebraic problem to prove that God exists. I can guarantee though, that since converting, and since perceiving everything (literally everything) from a new perspective, I don't know how I didn't believe before. I no longer look at the Earth and existence as a giant cryptic message waiting to be solved. It's artwork, it's a masterpiece. We are God's art. Every single last human being is an extension of Earth's beauty. It's amazing how detailed everything is, how intricate. I really think everything should be appreciated the way art is.
I once heard a quote, "The goal is not to live forever. The goal is to create something that will." Though this is nothing profoundly deep, I used to feel this summed up how many (want to/should) live their lives. But the world is going to end someday. Nothing can live forever. Even great artwork, poetry, and theories are going to be obsolete eventually. Mother Theresa, Adolf Hitler, Marilyn Monroe, all of their fame and integrity(or lack there of) will someday be gone. We will be gone. Whether through meteor, nuclear weaponry, divine intervention, or some other catastrophe—the Earth will come to an end. So what is the point if there will a be a "time" when there is no time? Is it just to enjoy this "randomly occurring" consciousness while we're alive? Is the point progression? Or IS there even a point?
I feel like looking at outer space alone should prove God's existence. Gravity pulls us toward our home, but why? Why does it matter if things exist? Why do things need to matter? There are stars light-years, kilo-light-years, even giga light-years away. The average human lifespan is about 70 years (that's not including third or even second world countries, so give or take). How infinitesimal we are! Maybe this is more of a reason to disprove a theistic view, but I think it proves of a designer even more. I think space is almost God's way of belittling or humbling us. We have all this technology and advancements. We are capable of achieving SO much. And yet "we never cease to stand like children before the great mystery into which we were born." I think God gave us mysteries and science and math to give us attainable goals and aid us in getting there. It gives all the conscienceless matter reason. It gives US reason.
Regardless of my newfound beliefs, I think it's rather pretentious and pointless for any religious person to try and dictate whether a person goes to heaven or hell or wherever. Regardless of where we think they go, it is not our decision. Who am I to say what happens? I think that is one of the grossest misinterpretations and misrepresentations of Christ. I've been rereading the new testament and never does he suggest intolerance or superiority.
I really think Jesus Christ was the son of God. I know there were countless other prophets claiming to be so. I also realize treating others with respect was nothing new to that time period (look at Aristotle!). But few other prophets sacrificed themselves the way Jesus did, and the Bible really was the most circulated text found to date. I think his life was exceptional. He was the ultimate martyr. He loved us all so much that his death was ultimately his way of establishing how important it is for us to love each other. There is more to life than all the frivolous things. Why do we spend our time here fighting and hurting when each of us has such little time in the first place.
I think one person wronged another person and it was a domino effect from there. I know that's silly, but really, I do. I think if we REALLY followed the actual Christ-like mentality the world WOULD be a better place. I don't mean followed most "Christians" misinterpretations. It's such a complicated matter because I feel like we have to have choices to truly be alive. People CHOOSE to belittle each other. People CHOOSE to fight. It's not ethical. But ethics is a choice. Choices make us alive. Perhaps that was God's biggest obstacle: to have us be genuinely, authentically, ridiculously alive, there has to be the duality of good and evil, and the ability to choose.
I believe good and bad and life, in general, is our chance to develop our souls and help others to develop theirs. I also think your "gut instinct" is the Holy Spirit. Just as the average human being knows what good is, just as one feels in their innermost core that murdering another human being is wrong, I now feel deep in my core that God exists.
Anyways, this was all just speculation and thoughts scribbled in a notebook. I realize there are numerous contradictions in this faith. I also recognize there is a fair amount of evidence disproving my newfound, or re-found, belief. But honestly, I don't think anything could dissuade me. I KNOW what it's like to dislike religion, to disbelieve. This was not an attempt to convert anyone. This may even be a bunch of nothingness to whoever found time to read it, but I don't care. If you have any thoughts or even disagreements, feel free to share! Thanks for your time!
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