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 .   .   .   .  .   .  .   .  .   .               "Living Aware"
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  . . .  .   .   . . .  . . .  . . .               by Phairgirl


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        I was raised Roman Catholic until my mother attended a Roman Catholic
 college and promptly converted to Buddhism when I was in the 8th grade.

        This may sound like it would be "the beginning of my doubts in my
 faith," but that isn't true.  I did time in Catholic school in my pee-wee
 years, and even then I wasn't the kind of girl who believed in all that
 bible stuff.  I was much more enraptured with how pretty our church was and
 much more occupied with memorizing EVERYTHING so that I could get good
 grades on everything God-related.  I back this up by recalling one day when
 I was in church, kneeling in my pew, telling God that I would stop
 shoplifting after I did it one more time.  I think I was 10.

        Needless to say, God was never my priority, I never gasped when
 someone said they were of a different religion, I never scolded others for
 not following His Word, and I never cared whether or not I took His name in
 vain.  I didn't even care if I capitalized Him or not.

        And after my mom's transformation, I really didn't know what to think
 one way or the other, so I read The Tao of Pooh.  I didn't get it, I just 
 thought Winnie the Pooh was funny.  I was a weird kid.

        So I just kinda decided somewhere in high school that I was violently 
 atheist and would freak out all the time whenever anyone would try talking 
 religion to me.  If someone mentioned God, I would make fun of them.  If 
 someone went to church, I made fun of them.  I just thought it was retarded. 
 I firmly believed the Bible was a drunken work of fiction and that Jesus 
 was some hallucination by a bunch of holy guys who ate the wrong mushrooms.  
 I wasn't just an atheist, I was ANTI-GOD.  It was kinda fun.

        However, as I "grew up," I still held my atheism firmly in my brain
 and in all of my words, but I stopped being so angry with others who held
 firm beliefs.  I was still a proud atheist, but I didn't mock everyone who 
 wasn't.  I let my faith become what all faith should be: personal.

        But age has gotten to me once again, and with all of the time I spent 
 condemning others for their religions, I find myself increasingly less proud 
 to be an atheist.  In fact, I feel sorry for myself.  So many people have 
 such strong bonds with their Creators and are so tenacious in their moral 
 and spiritual lives, I feel like I'm missing out on that lofty happiness 
 that comes from being loved at all times by some nameless omnipotent force.

        This is not to say that I am shopping for religion at this point in
 my life, either.  I don't think I can ever be anything but an atheist.  My
 brain just can't accept an unseen all-knowing deity that guides my fate. As
 far as I'm concerned, I'm the master of my own destiny, all of my actions
 have consequences that are my fault, and bad and good things happen just
 because that's the way things go.  I love the idea of karma, but I'll have
 to see the scoreboard before I take it with anything more than a grain of
 salt.  And until I see for myself, spiritual otherworlds simply exist as a
 means for people to justify the way they live their lives and the way they
 condemn others for theirs.

        My beliefs just plain aren't good for a person's emotional and mental 
 health.  It's one thing for a person to say that Grandma got cancer because 
 she smoked and all those big tobacco company guys that are covering 
 everything up are going to BURN IN HELL; however, in my eyes, some rich 
 assholes are getting away with killing Grandmas everywhere and they'll sit 
 around making money and living the high life until they're dead and someone 
 else gets their money and continues until the end of time.  With no idea of 
 hell, there is no punishment.  With no karma, there is no retribution.  Who 
 cares how they are punished in the so-called afterlife when they're fucking 
 up the here and now?

        And so, I'm a cynical people-hater who lives by morals for no reason
 other than that I'd rather be a good person than not.  I don't do it for the
 reward of some big heaven when I'm dead.  I do it for myself. I wouldn't 
 recommend living this way, because it's so much easier to pass the 
 responsibility to something intangible and trust that everything will be 
 okay because someone is watching over me.  It's my fault my fault I 
 accidentally threw away a $30 check, it's my fault that I have no desire to 
 finish school, and it's also my fault that I had enough money to pay my 
 bills this month and that I just got a promotion at work a couple weeks 
 back.

        To those who have faith: I'm so happy for you.

        To those who don't: don't you wish you could be so free?

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  .           anada 141                  by Phairgirl  (c)2000 anada e'zine .
      
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