I’ve been hedging around this for a while and finally decided to “come out.” It’s now Sunday, so I thought I’d just throw symbolism to the wind and make a statement. Frankly, this has been a long time coming. Shocking? I’m sure it is for some, but for others, I’m guessing it comes as no surprise. Do you want to hear me say it? Okay, “I’m an Atheist.” I know, I bet your skin is crawling right now. That word, for some, truly seems to connote ideas of underhandedness, cheap shots, intolerance, and grandiosity. Though I disagree, such an argument is not the topic of this post. As such, I won’t to much into my logic or spend lots of time “making my case.” I’ll save that for another time. So, on to the meat.
Why?
As I said, this has been a long time coming. Many of you who know me well understand I have struggled with religion for a LONG time (like, I don’t remember ever NOT struggling with it). I was completely devoid of religion for the majority of my young adult life and, after some serious drama, decided I needed to really find god as, growing up, I’d never truly believed in a god. I moved, got active in the LDS church again, got married, and lived life. Looking back on it now, I realized how snowed I was. I traded my logic, doubt, understanding and skepticism for a false sense of comfort. I put aside unanswerable questions that had long burned in my heart in order to make sense of the chaos that, a decade ago, seemingly engulfed my life. Of course, it wasn’t long lasting. Three years into my religious life, the doubt came back; and this time with a vengeance. Whereas some see the grand scale of the universe and the complexity of life as symbols of god, I see them as reasons god could not likely exist (at least in the form in which I had always been taught god existed). As “the surprise” (whose identity I’m purposefully masking) recently said to me, a “good feeling” after earnest prayer simply wasn’t enough to convince me that I was receiving an “answer” and I will honestly say that I never once received an “answer” to my prayers in anyway other than that “good feeling.” As you might imagine, my mind went into overdrive when I realized I got that same “good feeling” after meditating or simply talking about my problems, wants, wishes, or needs with someone else. God, it seemed, had no part in that equation for me.
When?
As previously alluded, things took a serious “left” (*snicker*) turn in 2004, immediately after I moved from the religious microcosm that is Southwestern Utah. Initially, my doubt was fueled by my education. During this time, I was beginning to again see, much like Ghandi did, that though I liked the idea of Christ, most “Christians” were anything but Christ-like. This is not me making shallow judgement and I’m not implying that Christians are bad; I know the people are only part of the religious equation and all religions have their hypocrites. Eventually though, I became utterly disgusted and dismayed with the “tolerance” (not acceptance) that was professed to be shown by Utah’s religious majority. In my view, Christ did not preach tolerance, rather unconditional acceptance. As I see it, most religions (and not just Christian/Protestant sects) cannot allow for universal acceptance because it would simply undo the fabric out of which they are made. Ultimately, regardless of having known better, I decided to stay the course; mostly for the benefit of my family and, frankly, to save a little face and avoid conflict (…and when have I been known to avoid conflict?).
The only person during that time who really had a clue about my true feelings was my father; though Corinne was getting a good idea where I stood. It wasn’t that I refrained from discussing it with my then-wife and did so with my father; I discussed my frustrations with both. But my father, having gone through a similar circumstance, knew where it was going. From 2005, my doubt and skepticism consumed my blind faith and I was left wondering just where I really stood. The chaos of the final months of 2008 finally forced me to admit what I had long suppressed: I don’t care if there is a god and not only do I not care, I think the existence of a god is highly improbable. No longer could I continue trying to convince myself of something I would never come to believe. I recently told “the stoic” that I wished I had the knowledge she had about god; what I didn’t tell her was that I felt guilty for not believing. Not any more.
What?
Soft Atheist, I guess that’s the term for me; the term applies because I don’t absolutely DENY there is a god, but I find the idea of a god extremely improbable and I simply don’t care to try and prove there is not a god (yet, and may never). It’s not that I am simply indifferent towards god (as are Agnostics), I largely don’t believe god exists. Period. Until very recently, I thought it was just that I didn’t care, but really it’s much more than that. Interestingly, I don’t believe (yet, and may never) that it’s my “mission” to convert others to my way of thinking. I’m fully supportive others’ choose to believe as they wish so long as their belief doesn’t severely impact my life and I act in such a way so as not to severely impact others lives with my beliefs. Of course, when I believe lines are crossed (Proposition 8), I will speak my mind fervently. At this point, I’m simply not amenable to any discussion or attempt to sway me otherwise or get me to justify my beliefs. As I see it, the whole point of religion is that it’s inherently “unprovable” and as such, don’t believe it is worth arguing (again, yet). Before I entertain any continued conversation on the issue, I should state I don’t want to hear the “get-out-of-my-country-because-the-US-was-founded-as-a-Christian-nation” crap, because it wasn’t or other derogatory or derissive garbage. I’m open to productive conversation, but I simply don’t care to trade barbs over the issue.
Huh?
Yeah, so I guess that’s about it. If you want to hear more about my de-conversion story, I’d be glad to relate it (not discuss it) to you privately. Perhaps this is a bit of my own projection, but I truly believe there are a great number of people like myself. People who, for whatever reason, cast doubt and their own sensibilities aside to keep up a charade in which they can’t fully act to capacity. Am I saying everyone is a charlatan? No. By all means, no. But, I do believe there are more people – many more people – who feel this way, but are simply incapable or unwilling to come out with. In a strange way, I hope my example changes that for someone, but if not, I’ve at least said my piece.
