Where To Go From Here: Living Without Religion

Religion is a source of wealth for millions of individuals across the world. It is the manna that feeds their souls, the daily bread that leaves all those who are hungry, spiritually satisfied.

But, let’s face it, religion isn’t for everyone and at this time in my life, it isn’t for me. And if you are like me, you may have asked yourself this question: where do I go from here?

For some, this question is pointless; all human endeavors are futile. But for others, there still exists a longing to pursue a life of meaning and purpose.

I possess that desire.

Raised in a Christian household, to a mother firmly convicted in speech, though not in thought or action–this was my adolescent life. I was a bible-toting anxious kid, concerned with being more than what I was. I wanted to learn and grow and become a good, worthy person. An example unto others. And naturally, emerging from a Christian background, I was convicted by religious thought.

My mother didn’t attend church under the claim that one is not required to worship formally to adhere to the teachings of God, the father. This, I later realized, was a conscious act of guilt. While highly intelligent and a seemingly beautiful person, she sinned often and had little desire to repent. The Church, she felt, would judge her. Obviously, she failed to understand that God insists his followers participate in fellowship with one another in order to reaffirm their faith and, also, that church should be about worshiping him and not concerning one’s self with the thoughts/deeds of others.

That being said, I–the oldest child–took it upon myself to bring my two younger brothers to church. It was more a place of refuge than a place of worship for us. Refuge from a home that neither lived by religious standards or good, secular standards.

I convinced myself on several occasions that the Spirit moved within me, but I, too, was plagued by guilt. Awful guilt. I wasn’t good enough or holy enough or secure enough in my faith. I was an unworthy human specimen.

My affliction was caused by an insatiable doubt that infected every thought. (Of course, this doubt, one could argue, was merely the product of a child who never learned how to trust individuals or rather one who trusted too much.) I felt I lacked a significant spiritual connection. I knew god had never moved in me. Even when I carried my bible to school and helped form a bible study for determined students.

Still, the doubt persisted and I knew that I could not call myself a Christian any longer. My appetite for truth and knowledge had somehow already convinced me that Christianity was not the true path. Still, it was a hard pill to swallow. After all, I spent my whole childhood idolizing my mother, who, despite all of her flaws, was a very intelligent person and taught me the immeasurable value of education. Unfortunately, she had also unconsciously attempted to repress our (my brothers’ and I) ability to think for ourselves, as her role of parent included instilling her own very specific values and truths within us.

Truths not to be questioned and opinions not to be disagreed with. To her credit, I believe this is also a failing of many parents, who find it difficult to play an ambiguous role. That is, they want their children to be independent, truth-seekers, but cannot allow themselves to be questioned. And, understandably, having given birth to me at age 17, my brother a year later, and parenting four children (two other children from her husband) at the age of 18, her own maturity and intellectual growth may have been stunted prematurely. Committing one’s self as a full-time parent, college student, and worker doesn’t leave a lot of room for personal growth. So she grew tired of laboriously attempting to shape us into good, moral, productive individuals and abandoned her role as parent.

Through this experience, I was able to free myself from the chains of her religion. However, as I’ve said, it wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. It was the pain of disillusionment and the fear of the unknown that troubled me.

And the question I feel it is necessary to answer–how does one live a life as a good, productive, caring, moral individual without the use of an instruction manual like religion?

I flitted from idea to idea and religion to religion, finding myself curious about Buddhism, Hinduism, Paganism, and many other philosophies of life. Eventually, I determined that my greatest instruction manual exists in the experiences of all human kind.

History, I feel, is our best and most true guide. I know that just because I have found fault with religion, I am not free from my own personal and social responsibilities. My Christian background will always influence me, as will any further knowledge that I have of the world. But as it is still my goal to be a good, moral, productive human being, I must act consciously to hold myself accountable for my behavior and my potential future. Especially if I one day, have a family.

And, to prevent misunderstandings, religion is not all together bad. It has good qualities. It unites families and individuals. It, ideally, holds one accountable for the choices he or she makes. It, ideally, inspires goodness(whatever that may be–our definitions of what is “good” does vary, after all). So without religion, I must find a way to carry on these qualities.

I want to feel kinship with other human beings and hold myself accountable to some kind of “good” standard. If I have a family, I want it to be united and caring. These things cannot happen spontaneously or without much effort and thought. So, as of now, I have determined that the most effective method for maintaining whatever standards of good I assign to my life, is to examine history–human history–and use it as a guide, as the instruction manual for my life.

If I do get married one day, my husband and I will need to depend on means outside of religion to ensure that our relationship does not become stifled or mundane. We must adhere to our own rules and must hold ourselves accountable to those standards. We must determine how to raise children in an effective and loving environment and how to encourage “goodness” in them without the use of bible-stories or the ten holy commandments, all while refraining from repressing their minds.

Long story short, religion does not have to be THE answer, but I believe one must have something to help them continue on in a world that seems futile without some “guiding force” or “ultimate truth.”

Just hit a fire hydrant. #Unbreakable–Lessons in Real Life from Haverford

Parks and Recreation, Tom Haverford

My boyfriend got me hooked on the show Parks and Recreation so I’ve been watching it pretty much non-stop this winter break. He still claims The Office is better but I’m a sucker for nerdy, enthusiast Leslie Knope and nerdy, apathetic Ben Wyatt. Of course, who doesn’t need a dose of Ron Swanson running away from his sex-craved, librarian ex-wife Tammy #2? Or a Tom Haverford to keep the joke running (fart-attack, need I say more?)?

But good television still represents the times and no matter how weird, awkward, and pointless it seems, it can tell us about ourselves if we listen closely. I’ve recently caught up to the fifth season and one episode in particular really got me thinking about how amazing it is that we can still learn something valuable every day. Even when we’re sitting on our couches stuffing our faces with Hot Cheetos or yummy buttery popcorn and inching our way closer to reaching Pawnee status—4^th obese city in the country, yay!

Season 5, episode Sex Education. #soccermoms.

But, seriously, while you sit there multitasking by reading this post, checking your Facebook, watching Parks&Rec, tweeting every two seconds, creating a new board on Pinterest, and playing solitaire, I urge you to also listen to the advice that Tom Haverford and mustache-man Ron Swanson give in this episode—real life is out there waiting for you!

If you haven’t seen the episode or are actually living your life, SPOILER ALERT and good for you! But for those of you interested, Tom, after hitting a fire hydrant due to tweeting while driving, is court ordered to spend time away from all screens pertaining to the internet—the horror! Despite his preference to get involved in the affairs of literally no one, Ron kind of likes Tom so he offers to help him out by taking him to the great outdoors and secluding him from the world of social media. But it proves extremely difficult for Tom; I mean the guy would rather go to jail than be without screens. So Ron asks him why he needs it so much, why he’s attached to the internet and his phone and all other networking devices so badly and Tom reveals the very sad, pathetic truth that I’d wager hits home for a lot of us:

“Ron: Why do you need to be so constantly distracted, Tom?

Tom: The truth is, I spend a lot of time looking at screens because recently a lot of stuff in my real life isn’t going that great so I’d rather play Doodlejump than think about that, okay?”

First, what is Doodlejump? And second, when did the internet become real life? It started as a tool like any other, designed to help us do our jobs better and faster, but here lately in the 21^st century it’s become a lifestyle. Are we really going to let ourselves become these blobs that get absorbed into our iPads and Ultrabooks and smartphones?

If the answer is yes, pretty soon pinning about going to the gym is going to become the alternative to actually going to the gym. Oh, wait… yeah, that’s already happened.

I understand, real life can be a drag. Your love life is pretty bland so you start obsessing over the relationship between Ben and Leslie or Jim and Pam or Rachel and Ross or Carrie and Mr. Big… need I go on? You have to get a day job (gawd) and it’s not really fun because the economy kind of sucks and accounting is boring and everyone’s suddenly becoming a nurse because it’s the safe option. And you’re not good at math, you hate science, and you don’t want to be a freaking nurse alright!! And you don’t want to take the safe options. You want to be one of those revered celebrities, or a great author like J.K. Rowling, or a video game designer (or tester, please), the next Picasso or something. But, really, now that TV and the internet show us how awesome everyone else is, doesn’t it make sense that we’re starting to doubt our own capabilities?

The real truth is that life is kind-of-a-little-bit-of what you make it. Social media isn’t the destructive force–we are. It’s up to us—the almighty human beings—to decide how to respond to things, to pick apart the intricate details of our complex lives and figure out how to balance the teeter-totter. It’s not healthy to sink too much into one thing. Yes, it’s true—the internet isn’t going away and pretty much everyone is catching up and adapting. But it’s also true that, for now, our physical bodies and our minds could use some real-life stimulation. You know, all those things you used to do before the internet and being a nerd was cool.

Thanks, Parks&Rec.

Growing Older, Getting Colder

Sister Alenushka Weeping about Brother Ivanushka (Viktor Vasnetsov 1881)

I can hear my brother breathing in the bed across from mine. He is sleeping and he never seemed more innocent and peaceful. Life is so much easier in a state of dreamless sleep. But he will wake up and have to face tomorrow. He will still feel lost and angry and he will cling to his pride. He will still be the victim of circumstance. The victim of a mother’s mistakes. The victim of hard-headed choice. And I will still be here, powerless to stop it.

I don’t have children. Not yet, maybe never. But I feel in my heart–the moisture gathering behind my eyes–a pain and uneasiness that seems akin to the sorrow a parent may feel as she watches her innocent babe cross the dangerous threshold into maturity and experience, a world of responsibility and consequence and  real, dark fear.

This boy I grew up with has troubles I cannot fathom . Ones I don’t want to fathom, but ones I wish I could help him face. So used to being alone, he will walk alone and fight alone and, I suspect, will fall alone. With grim resignation I accept that some burdens in life one must bear alone. That some battles are fought, not to be won, but to learn from. And yet I find myself asking why–pleading for some miracle, for some change of heart, for some great life-shattering revelation.

Patience and time. Two things no one has enough of. I would ask for less of these if I could just be granted temporary peace of mind. But who would worry if I didn’t? Who would care enough to share the pain? Side-by-side, growing and learning, the few years of distance that has separated us in the past are no match for such an intense, intrinsic connection. Who else could come closest to understanding if not me? An absent mother? A baby brother? A best friend? A past lover?

No. No one comes as close as I do. No one sees this deep or feels this much. No, only me.

And I suppose, if I am his shoulder, if I am his truest, most trusted friend, if I am the person who can understand when words aren’t quite enough, if I am the person who needs no explanation, if, in the end, it comes down to me and being there… then peace of mind becomes a curse rather than a blessing. So I will seek thee, patience and time, and continue to hold the weight of all this worry.

And also hope I never have kids.

The World is Too Much With Us

{fog on the road–Devian art}

I know that the world is indifferent to us. But it is as indifferent as it is deceptive. There are times on passing nights when it appears as if nature has created some tiny miracle just for me—times when I exit the theater after sitting through a film that stirs up some deep passion or melancholy from inside and a mystic fog has settled heavy upon the parking lot. I step lightly through the clouds, almost like floating, to where my vehicle sits and can’t help thinking that “tonight, tonight, is beautiful. And it’s all for me.” As the car travels down the interstate, the fog hides the glow of bill boards that litter the roadsides and the only thing that penetrates the cloudy mist is the sharp glare of oncoming headlights that seem to mirror our exhausting and unending search for truth and clarity. The lights follow the lines on the asphalt, guiding us onward to something we can’t be sure exists, but will salivate forever after believing in the mere possibility. “It must, it must, it must, it must,” is our repeated mantra.

My stomach twists pleasantly and I’m comforted by the hazy fog we pass through. It seems like a thick blanket obscuring us from other people with their other lives with their other jobs and their other things. The telephone lines and the “rent this space!” signs, the tall church steeples, and the ambulance lights—all hidden out there on the outside… for now at least. My mind bobs back and forth from attending to my frozen toes and musing over my life as a walking advertisement of the quest for truth and knowledge. Always seeking more, more, more. Thirsting like a blind man for eyes that can see. Always trying to escape the fog that before was only ever awful and suffocating.

Thinking that blind men must, at some point, accept that they will never see with their eyes. Wondering why it is a comfort to me now… a relief just to bask in the simplicity… the beauty… of a world strange and unknown, but here.

C.H.

Disillusionment is a Foul Elixir

 

I’ve noticed that in most of my posts so far, I can seem kind of bitter or condescending. It’s a bit puzzling because I like to be the type of person who’s favorite accessory is a smile (super cheesy, yeah?). Really, I try so hard to satisfy everyone else’s expectations, my own expectations, and also to inspire some warm fuzzies in at least one other person a day. It’s exhausting… but I don’t want to be the cynical bitch I sometimes find myself turning into. I don’t naturally have a sugary-sweet personality but injustice, mean-spirited, narrow-minded, and arrogant attitudes do stir up the spirits of passion within me. 

 

The only explanation I can give at this time is that I’m still experiencing the bitter aftertaste of innocence lost. It’s a common experience but we all handle it in different ways. You grow up and realize that all isn’t right with the world like you thought it was, like your parents told you it was, like you dreamed it would be. Your religion seems colder and before you know it, you’re the lukewarm soul that god’s spitting out on the ground. The ladder to the American Dream isn’t as easy to climb as everyone said it would be. And why, of all the times, does the economy have to fail when YOU’RE finally kicked out on your own?

 

In the end there seem to be two paths you can take: going back or moving forwards. You ignore the bright light beckoning from the mouth of the cave and turn back to your mundane beliefs because it’s so much easier than walking out into the world unknown and unprepared.

 

I don’t blame those people… I understand it’s difficult. Sometimes I even envy them. I chose the latter path and it’s like trudging through some huge maze of barbed wire. Very. Slow. Going.

 

After some self-reflection, I realize that a lot of my cynicism stems from immaturity. I’m not wise enough yet to accept things as they are and to buck up and wade through the mess without feeling like I’ve been personally jilted. 

 

But I’m trying. 

 

C.H.

 

SO I Like Red Meat…

I like a good steak every now and then. And fresh steamed green beans. Yum.

I came up with the idea to limit my consumption of red meat to only 5 times a year… but so far I haven’t been counting. Despite my lack of dedication and will power, I do still plan to implement this, even though it’s not often that I get a chance to eat it.

Why? I ran across some studies that focused on the correlation between meat consumption (specifically red meat) and obesity in America. The results were intriguing but not all together surprising. With the boom of fast food also came the boom of our mid-sections. And what do most fast food places specialize in? The selling of red meat products and french fries. Though I detest burgers made from the fast food industry, I’m not opposed to one from Chili’s or T.G.I.Friday’s…

Oh, here’s the study: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2697260/

Therefore… red meat 5 times a year….. should this be less/more? To be honest, I came up with the number randomly.

C.H.

Presidential Debate #1: Can You Blame Them?

I watched the Presidential Debate in my Res Hall last week. It was the first one I actually saw through to the end which is a good thing, I guess, it being my first year to actually vote. To be honest, I’ve typically been the person who has a lot to say about my opinions regarding politics, but lacks a considerable bit of knowledge concerning actual research. It’s sort of surprising considering I attended a high school in an honors program that was very politically involved. Hey, I was even a Young Democrats member.

But I’ll be frank once more; I was only in that group because I decided that I needed to join as many clubs as possible to be irresistible on my college applications.

That being said, I was raised in a Democratic household. My mom believes in small government, but social liberation. She’s biased in some ways because she used to be an unruly teenager with awful parents. Kids like that are almost bound to end up as liberals. Anyway, she was also able to get a college degree under Clinton so that only increased her bias. But my mom lives in a world of contradiction. Works but refuses to pay taxes because she’s in so much debt. Praises God, but refuses to attend church for fear of being judged. It continues.

I used to be a die-hard liberal simply because I was raised as such, but my inclination to jump on the Democratic bandwagon has been slowly fading over the years. I’m becoming fairly distrusting of both parties and the entire federal institution as a whole. And also more indifferent than angry that everything is so corrupt and beyond our control.

Why? I mean, where is all of my righteous indignation? Well, I have none… I think that it’s because I get it. In a way. It’s all about power and prestige. We all want it, we all seek it, and not really with so many good intentions. Maybe we have morals that were dictated to us as children or from experience, but mostly I’ve observed that no matter how badly we’re inclined to feel for others, we’re inclined to care for ourselves more. Was Hobbes right? Was Nietzsche?

1. We want a comfortable lifestyle. They say, you say, I’ve even said once “I don’t care how much money is in my wallet so long as I’m happy” Yeah, BLAHBLAHBLAH, is what I say to that now. It’s not to be cynical, just realistic. That’s an ideal. The same as happiness. It’s not something you finally obtain one day and get to keep forever. It’s a dream. What we really want is comfort. God, cause not having things is such a freaking draaaaag. Especially in this world of material excess. But more than that, we want for more than just iPads and an abundance of shoes. We want money to buy healthcare so that we can go to the dentist and have regular checkups and not worry about having to pay for those things. We want money to buy the healthy food that costs significantly more than greasy pizza and salty chips. We want money to buy a car so we don’t have to constantly depend on others to get us wherever we want to go. I suppose you could also say that the want for money stems from the desire for independence. Anyway, you get the point.
2. We want recognition. Yes, even you, Hipster. That’s WHY you’re even a Hipster to begin with. (And why I secretly want to be one too.) Law degrees, doctorates, high official positions, graduating with honors, being the homecoming queen, the star football player, winning an Emmy. Come on! The signs are everywhere. We have awards for everything and you never wonder why?
3. We will do anything it takes, given our abilities and the limits to our moral consciences, to achieve our desires. Lie, Cheat, Steal. If we can get away with it, of course. You may pretend to be Christian, not just to remain in the good graces of others but to rise to higher positions of social status. (Okay, who am I kidding, some people today are just lazy and they won’t do anything it takes to get what they want. But do those people make up a majority? And besides, those people who lie around all day may have never experienced anything else, may have never been given the opportunity to be anything other than what their situations allowed them to be. And then there are the people who don’t think twice about posting condescending things about religion on their Facebook or on other public forums. Why should they, you ask? The answer to that may very well end up being another post, but I’ll throw you a bone–because some of those young kids who litter their internet pages with condescending remarks about religion and the like will one day want jobs and someone is always watching or checking out your crap. The only people who don’t have to worry about posting offending material that goes against or with the grain are Christians, people who draw disability income and never intend to do anything more with their lives, older people with job security or who are retired, celebrities, or geniuses. If you’re young and still looking to make something out of yourself, lay low kids. I’m not saying it’s right or fair… but you have to make a way for yourself, right? If there’s any glory to standing up for what you believe in, religious or not, then glory lies with Westboro Baptist also.)

Ask me to elaborate. I will. But only if you ask.

Back to the debate.

I wish I knew more about economics. Sure, I understand basic principles but I want to know enough to actually own my opinion. You can say all you want about how Romney is a liar and changed tactics and Obama seemed distracted, but I.M.H.O, Romney took down Obama in this debate. Not because his ideas were better or more fully explained, but because, god, he tried.

Romney: fully present and outlined his platform. He discussed his “five’ step plan” for creating jobs and answered almost every question with a clear and concise response. He denied allegations about cutting taxes despite having earlier in his campaign apparently mentioned something about it.

Obama: almost seemed disoriented. Over and over again he was asked about his plan to create jobs, to reduce the deficit, etc. and while he did recount a multitude of methods put into practice during his presidency, he never addressed the discrepancies with those methods or combated Romney’s allegations. All in all, very disheartening.

My personal struggle has been to determine where my true loyalties lie: with the economy, or with social liberty.

If you knew me, you could say I’m the type of person always gabbing on and on about some social injustice… but the economy affects everyone, guys. That’s just it. And while I don’t want Romney in the Oval Office shouting about how traditional marriage is the only true marriage, I really don’t want to be broke forever and I really want a job.

Of course, that doesn’t mean Romney can fix the economy, but we want someone who will, yeah? So who will it be?

To vote or not to vote. That is the question… Along with for whom.

Because, really, do either of them even care?

Yours,

C.H.

Banned Books Week

Celebrating the freedom to read and write on whatever subjects we choose.

They Go to College to get to Spring Break

Last Saturday was Game Day. I live it, I love it, I participate. I am oozing with school spirit. My university is number 19 in our division and the team we played was 2nd. Thankfully, we managed to beat them by four. It was pretty awesome. In high school I was never all about school spirit because my school was awful. It was a terrible place to be and our teams were never good. But my experience at University has been so monumental that I literally have no other choice than to be one of those crazy fans screaming in the stands like I honestly believe my school is the best in the nation. And I’ll be honest–I do believe that.

 

But that’s not really what I want to talk about. It was just the highlight of my day. Tonight’s actual topic: Spring Break.

 

After the game, my boyfriend and one of our (really my) friends piled into his truck for a Taco Bell/Rally’s food run and our conversations usually start somewhere relative and end up somewhere strange. But our friend, whom I’ll refer to as Calvin, brought up spring break and a trip he went on a few years ago to Panama City.

 

Yep. I said it. Panama City. The haven of all spring break trips. Skimpy bikinis galore, thousands upon thousands of washboard abs, and all the alcohol you can or wish to consume. Did I mention it’s also your go to place for easy hook ups?

 

Perhaps you can already see where this is going but, yeah, I’m not a “Spring Break” fan. I mean, YOLO, right? RIIIIGht?

 

I’ve never been on a spring break trip but I don’t think I’m really missing out on much. I’m not a big party person. That’s not to say that I don’t like to party, cause I do. I like the dizzy feeling I get from a buzz, my complete lack of inhibition, and the insatiable desire to giggle at everything, literally, EVERYTHING. No sarcasm. But hey, I don’t feel the need to broadcast it. And I also don’t like to drink with random strangers just for the sake of drinking. That really says it all. I don’t party for the sake of partying.

 

I see that all the time on campus. All these mothas partying all day err day with no restraint. I mean, do they EVER study? Do they want to go somewhere in life? Is college REALLY just one big party?

 

You know how I like to party? I like to spend my week going to class in the mornings, going to club meetings or campus events in the afternoons, working and studying in the evenings, browsing the ever-so entertaining social media networks early in the mornings, sleeping and then repeating that over and over again. And then every other weekend, after I’ve spent all of my time ensuring that my transcript and resume will be impeccable upon graduation, I like to reeeelaaax. Have a few drinks, loud music, video games, get lost in random philosophical conversations, have a few more drinks, laugh at everything, do a little making out, and then I usually spill my guts and sleep it off the next day. I get to relax knowing that I deserve it.

 

I do not want to spend one of the few breaks I get from University at one big week long party where I don’t know anyone just to drink and drink and drink and have random hook ups.

 

Excessive drinking is not on my bucket list.

 

I could spend that week at Harry Potter World or in the audience of a concert hall, mere feet away from my favorite musician in the entire world. Or I could go on a road trip and see the sites while writing in a travel journal. Whatever. I could do SO MANY worthwhile things. Things that I’ll remember with fondness rather than shame.

 

And, yes, alcohol could be present on my spring break trip (and probably will be) but the point, all of you university students, is that it will not be the FOCUS of my trip.

 

And that’s my perspective,

 

C.H.

Introduction

Wanna know about me? The purpose of this blog? Here it is:

I’m a 20 something year old University student who grew up in a small city in a southern state. Yes, folks, in the Bible belt. But don’t worry, I’m not a religious zealot. I learned the value of education early on and strive to increase my knowledge of human life by forever remaining a student of the world. Raised in the lower crust of society but with somewhat of a natural advantage due to my pasty skin color, I aim to take what was given to me and turn it into something more. A rags to riches type of story. My ultimate goal is to be able to sum my life up as a successful endeavor. Some people only want a paycheck because it’s all they can afford to desire. Me? No. I want a career, I want joy, I want comfort, I want adventure, I want it all.

Much like the typical American, I attempt to feel something for those less fortunate than I and often achieve powerful results. However, my chief concern is how to move myself up the ladder. But I do vow to avoid stepping on others’ rights or taking advantage of other human beings. Why? Because though I am concerned mostly with myself, I am not concerned only with myself. I care about other human beings and I also aim to be the best person I can in this life. And as hard as I try to remain indifferent to the inner workings of this human world of civilization and society, I can’t seem to tear myself away. It’s fascinating… the depths to which human perception can extend.

The purpose of this blog is to communicate my thoughts with all of you, in hopes that they intrigue you or enable you to think about… really anything at all. My pen name, “ALittleBirdie,” references the common phrase “a little birdie told me” because it reflects my intention to encourage and participate in the social chain of conversation–not as gossip, but as food for thought.

Yours,

ALittleBirdie aka C.H.