My Current Journey to Disbelief

I haven't written about my journey to atheism for a while.  Not that I haven't been pondering upon it; it is something I am meditating on each day and wondering what it all means.

I am connected with many interesting and diverse people who are people of faith in God.  People who are sure of God being there, guiding them, helping them and loving them.  I have met many Christians who have made the idea of Christianity bitter tasting.  I have seen their actions and listened to their words and been greatly repulsed by the idea of even believing in God again.

But.

There are those I am connected with who remind me of the great good spirituality does for individuals and also communities.  My twin bro is inspiring and I admire the work he is doing in Devon.  I love to talk with him about theology and leave pondering on his words.

I met Rob, the new Pastor of West Mersea Free Church, and was very pleased to have met him.  He has a really interesting story and am looking forward to more coffee with him and more chats about life and faith from two very different stances.  And I was really impressed by his vision of community and how he would like to walk with me as I continue my journey of disbelief.

So, I am far from repulsed by belief in God.  I do not reject belief out of anger or resentment.  I simply don't believe.  C.S. Lewis said he sees God in everything (to paraphrase), whereas I don't see God in everything around me.  That's not a pessimistic statement; because I see so much around me which fills me with joy.

Where my journey is now though, is it is journey of disbelief wrapped in contentment.  I no longer go to therapy; I am sleeping through the night; I am eating more and putting on weight; I am in love; I am happy.

This sense of peace has come from within, not without.  And for the first time in a very long time I feel balanced.  I have trudged through the darkness and because of those around me and my utter determination to find peace and joy I have got there.

Now that is a wonderful feeling.

Power Play

We should never try to make people in our image.  We are not the masters of other people's lives and destinies.  We are not to live our lives through others.  People are unique and wonderful. People need the freedom to explore who they are without judgement, without sneers, without unnecessary pressure.

We all are on a journey of exploration about who we are and where we fit in.  My life cannot be transferred on to someone else.  I cannot force someone to look at life through my eyes.  They have their own eyes, goals, dreams and fears.  They need the love and support to walk their own path with me there as support and love.  Love has no BUTS.  Love has no conditions.  I love you.  Full stop.

When we try to force our ideals on another, we restrict them from living their life to the full.  When we try to make a clone of ourselves through another, we are insulting them and denying them the life they have.

When we try to control others we are playing a game of power which ultimately magnifies our own insecurities.

So spread your wings and cherish who you are.  You are wonderfully unique and remember, none of us are perfect; none of us have all the answers; none of us have finished the journey of identity.

Peace.

The Sun Newspaper is Sick

I walked into the shop the other day and saw the Sun newspaper on the stand.  It had a large picture of Col. Gaddafi, shot dead.  'That's for Lockerbie,' gloated the headline.  Sensationalist, infantile, puerile news.  Death and sex is splashed across this newspaper, with half-truths, blatant lies and writing which tries to incite and promote bigotry, hatred and promote ignorance.

How can these journalists be respected when they write headlines such as, 'Rot in Hell with Hitler'?

I am saddened that The Sun is the biggest selling newspaper in Britain, selling 2.7 million copies a day and the Daily Mail is second, selling just over 2 million copies.  Why do so many people want to buy into these vitriolic and utterly foul newspapers?  Seeing the Gaddafi headline disgusted me, because it's praising brutality and gratuitous violence.  It's not simply about Gaddafi being killed in war, the articles also focused on how the dictator was dragged through the streets like a 'rat', beaten, humiliated and shot.  Mob mentality took over and God help anyone caught in the middle of a mob.

Yes, Gaddafi was depraved and delusional.  Yes he was an example of how power corrupts absolutely.  But, we don't need to hero-worship the rebels killing him.  We don't need to splash images of his death everywhere.

Western Civilisation?  Gandhi was right when he said it would be a good idea.

*Here's a link to The Sun if you want to read the articles and see the photos.  I hate what they do, but they have the right to do it.

I do not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it.
Voltaire*

When Did You?

When did you become a thief, since it was I who dared to steal your heart?  In my distraction of winning that precious love of yours, I did not see you gracefully glide in and sweep me away.  I am overwhelmed and impressed by the subtlety of your seduction.  It has surprised me; it has surpassed expectations; it has knocked me sideways.

When did you become this woman of great depth and intrigue?  Forgive me for underestimating you and the richness of life you bring me.  Forgive me for assuming so much, when about you I knew so little.  I am diving deeper and deeper into the waters of your world.  I am discovering beautiful delights behind every twist and turn; it is a journey of excitement and passion.

When did I become this man of contentment and serenity?  In my world of frantic energy, fuzzy perspective and flawed judgement, I failed to see what I truly was and can be.  How did you know?  How did you see so quickly and scarily accurately?  I sleep and eat and talk and laugh and 'be.'  The simplest parts to life have become the richest with you.

Success or Failure?

In the space of two years I have gone from owning a house, full of possessions, to being almost able to carry my life on my back. A few clothes, books and dvds are pretty much what I own.

Does this substantial decrease of material possessions challenge, alter, disrupt who I am? Am I any more or less Tom by what I own? Does owning a house and paying a mortgage define me as successful? Does moving back to my parents' house define me as a failure? Does getting married and building a life make me complete? Does getting divorced shred to pieces my wholeness?

It depends on your superficiality and snap judgements.

To the outside world, who don't see beyond the white, picket fence, my life would have appeared picturesque; a beautiful wife, fulfilling job and buying a lovely house.

Success.

Choosing to give that up must equal failure.

But, the sacrifice of the house and marriage has ensured something much more fulfilling: a maintaining of a friendship as opposed to a marriage which could have been a lie. The giving up of a job to ensure I always was known for my integrity and not dedication to how others perceived me.

To me, I am struggling with knowing that to have so little (materially) does not mean I am far from complete or successful. Actually, I couldn't give a shit about successful; I hate that word.

Success.

It's a word that spews from the mouths of pushy parents and self-righteous, money driven, fame obsessed chasers of nothingness.

Success.

It's a word that, if an object, would be the dried up saliva in the corner of your mouth or the stringy vomit after you've puked up.

I don't like the word because society has made it a word of pressure, a word of chasing distant dreams. Success should mean valued relationships, close friends, integrity of character, realised dreams.

So, I am not a success, I am not a failure; I am Tom who will strive to live his life to its fullest, to its richest and never to the chants of others.   

The Harvest of our Relationships

The oyster deals with extreme conditions throughout its short life.  It is battered and bashed and bundled around.  Harsh winds and waters throw it around, knocking it about.  It is dredged up from the seabed by oystermen, dumped on to a boat and then knocked about with a cold, steel knife to get rid of any unwanted shell and debris.

It is thrown into a box, taken ashore, tipped into other boxes, blasted with a power washer, tipped around, lugged about, graded in size and eventually ends up in yet another box to be delivered to a restaurant or eagerly awaiting customer.

When the oyster us finally opened, inside is a beautifully delicate mollusc which seems to defy the harsh treatment it has endured.  And sometimes, just sometimes, inside you'll find a perfectly formed pearl.  A beautiful product of nature which sits there as a product of the oyster being irritated by sand in the shell.

As people, we will be battered and bundled around in our lives.  Sometimes physically, but usually emotionally.  It is our endurance and perseverance though which sets us apart.  We will be hurt by others, made to feel torn and tossed around and tested beyond what we feel we can handle.  Somehow we claw our way through and find the harvest of our journey is more wisdom, greater awareness and a heightened understanding of ourselves.

We will also find a beautiful pearl as a product of those 'irritants' hounding us.  Those pearls could be a hug, a kiss, a kind gesture, the gentle hand squeeze from a loved one, a penetrating look just to let you know someone is there for you.

Whatever the pearl, ensure you treasure it and keep it in a safe place, because the harvest of those pearls will be a lifeline, a means of support when everything seems rather futile.