Hahahaha.... I know...
But I wanted to emphasize just how much I was against theism. So Devout became the word to indicate this.
But I wanted to emphasize just how much I was against theism. So Devout became the word to indicate this.
Thank you for posting this, as this is a topic I'm big on.
However, I think it's important to define what 'God' means for me. Now at its core, I've come to understand that God isn't necessarily a hugely complicated topic that I've essentially boiled it down to. The nature of God, however, is infinitely complex. There's a difference between the two. To say that something is complicated implies there's an elaborate system that can be taken apart and examined and predicted according to an empirical framework. An essay is complicated because it's made up of an introduction, a body and a conclusion and knowing how essays are formatted you know what comes after the introduction. A complex system however is not easily predictable and examinable under an empirical framework. You may be able to map out the rivers of the Amazon Rainforest but the abundance of dangerous animals traversing the rivers you can't reasonably predict in order to avoid them. So by my understanding of God, its nature isn't complicated, but infinitely complex.
I see God in the form of 'Logos' as in a grand, unifying divine order comprising the the cosmos. Every breath taken, every butterfly wing beaten, every supernova in our galaxy and beyond is all connected in a unified, objective principle. Now I do believe, nay, there are other Gods out there which take animistic forms, i.e. the God Ocean or even Apollo himself. The Gods are Platonic ideas given form through culture and collective unconscious manifestation. All of these forms make up the Logos.
That's my view on 'God' in a nutshell.
As for the seeding questions:
1/2. My relationship with God I've yet to fully cultivate yet I know from an intuitive level that it involves the actualisation of my Dharma, my Sacred Duty. That through the continued practice and focus (Yoga) of my duties, I can cultivate a stronger connection with God. And in all honesty, a lot of the time I don't want to perform my Sacred Duty, because I tend to doubt my ability to perform it, yet it's often said it's better to fail at one's Sacred Duty than to succeed in someone else's.
3. Tried that before. Things got bleak real fast. I realise that a huge part of what motivates me (And perhaps this is Fi speaking) is a sense of purpose with my actions. For me to believe that perhaps, there is an order to things, and that I'm not subject to the mercy of a cold, indifferent existence, governed by some Darwinian or Newtonian notions.
What is your relationship with God like?
I'll have a go mins but it's so hard to describe, and especially so in something that won't be too long a post. I've said quite a bit about my spiritual history in my blog, so I'll link to it and won't repeat it here
I have a background awareness of God that came from these experiences - it's more like seeing, a perception, than a belief, though belief is there too. It was like an awakening - as though I suddenly saw reality completely differently, as though I was no longer alone inside my heart, and I and the whole world were filled with a dazzling glow of love and light. The intensity of the original experience died down, but it's still like looking at the sun with your eyes shut and knowing where it is - that's how I always feel His presence.
Can I say any more? There are others who describe similar experiences, though they are given different shapes and @Kgal is one here for example. One of my favourite descriptions is this: it's such a wonderful description of the sheer joy and awe of experiencing God directly - not just on the other side of reality, but embedded deep in everyday ordinary things and enchanting them.
Except although the memory faded, it wasn't buried in oblivion for me, nor is it on the occasions in my life when it has been repeated.
And yes! if a door opened that I could go through and be always with Him like that, I would walk through it without hesitating unless I had dependents still. That's where my heart and home lie.
I have to add that there is spiritual darkness out there too that is as horrific as He is love and joy. The void without His presence is terrible beyond easy description and is not an experience I'd wish on anyone.
I should also add that I have used a number of images to try and describe all this but they are inadequate and of course I use the specific language of my culture and religious background. It isn't something that is the property of any one spiritual framework and is common to all the the ones I've come across. Though the language and images are very different, I can see the inner experience is the same. It's particularly striking, oddly enough, in spiritual paths that don't include a personal God, such as Buddhism, or early period Taoism.
Can I say any more? There are others who describe similar experiences, though they are given different shapes and @Kgal is one here for example. One of my favourite descriptions is this: it's such a wonderful description of the sheer joy and awe of experiencing God directly - not just on the other side of reality, but embedded deep in everyday ordinary things and enchanting them.
Then a change began slowly to declare itself. The horizon became clearer, field and tree came more into sight, and somehow with a different look; the mystery began to drop away from them. A bird piped suddenly, and was still; and a light breeze sprang up and set the reeds and bulrushes rustling. Rat, who was in the stern of the boat, while Mole sculled, sat up suddenly and listened with a passionate intentness. Mole, who with gentle strokes was just keeping the boat moving while he scanned the banks with care, looked at him with curiosity.
‘It’s gone!’ sighed the Rat, sinking back in his seat again. ‘So beautiful and strange and new. Since it was to end so soon, I almost wish I had never heard it. For it has roused a longing in me that is pain, and nothing seems worth while but just to hear that sound once more and go on listening to it for ever. No! There it is again!’ he cried, alert once more. Entranced, he was silent for a long space, spellbound.
‘Now it passes on and I begin to lose it,’ he said presently. ‘O Mole! the beauty of it! The merry bubble and joy, the thin, clear, happy call of the distant piping! Such music I never dreamed of, and the call in it is stronger even than the music is sweet! Row on, Mole, row! For the music and the call must be for us.’
The Mole, greatly wondering, obeyed. ‘I hear nothing myself,’ he said, ‘but the wind playing in the reeds and rushes and osiers.’
The Rat never answered, if indeed he heard. Rapt, transported, trembling, he was possessed in all his senses by this new divine thing that caught up his helpless soul and swung and dandled it, a powerless but happy infant in a strong sustaining grasp.
In silence Mole rowed steadily, and soon they came to a point where the river divided, a long backwater branching off to one side. With a slight movement of his head Rat, who had long dropped the rudder-lines, directed the rower to take the backwater. The creeping tide of light gained and gained, and now they could see the colour of the flowers that gemmed the water’s edge.
‘Clearer and nearer still,’ cried the Rat joyously. ‘Now you must surely hear it! Ah—at last—I see you do!’
Breathless and transfixed the Mole stopped rowing as the liquid run of that glad piping broke on him like a wave, caught him up, and possessed him utterly. He saw the tears on his comrade’s cheeks, and bowed his head and understood. For a space they hung there, brushed by the purple loose-strife that fringed the bank; then the clear imperious summons that marched hand-in-hand with the intoxicating melody imposed its will on Mole, and mechanically he bent to his oars again. And the light grew steadily stronger, but no birds sang as they were wont to do at the approach of dawn; and but for the heavenly music all was marvellously still. On either side of them, as they glided onwards, the rich meadow-grass seemed that morning of a freshness and a greenness unsurpassable. Never had they noticed the roses so vivid, the willow-herb so riotous, the meadow-sweet so odorous and pervading. Then the murmur of the approaching weir began to hold the air, and they felt a consciousness that they were nearing the end, whatever it might be, that surely awaited their expedition.
A wide half-circle of foam and glinting lights and shining shoulders of green water, the great weir closed the backwater from bank to bank, troubled all the quiet surface with twirling eddies and floating foam-streaks, and deadened all other sounds with its solemn and soothing rumble. In midmost of the stream, embraced in the weir’s shimmering arm-spread, a small island lay anchored, fringed close with willow and silver birch and alder. Reserved, shy, but full of significance, it hid whatever it might hold behind a veil, keeping it till the hour should come, and, with the hour, those who were called and chosen.
Slowly, but with no doubt or hesitation whatever, and in something of a solemn expectancy, the two animals passed through the broken tumultuous water and moored their boat at the flowery margin of the island. In silence they landed, and pushed through the blossom and scented herbage and undergrowth that led up to the level ground, till they stood on a little lawn of a marvellous green, set round with Nature’s own orchard-trees—crab-apple, wild cherry, and sloe.
‘This is the place of my song-dream, the place the music played to me,’ whispered the Rat, as if in a trance. ‘Here, in this holy place, here if anywhere, surely we shall find Him!’
Then suddenly the Mole felt a great Awe fall upon him, an awe that turned his muscles to water, bowed his head, and rooted his feet to the ground. It was no panic terror—indeed he felt wonderfully at peace and happy—but it was an awe that smote and held him and, without seeing, he knew it could only mean that some august Presence was very, very near. With difficulty he turned to look for his friend and saw him at his side cowed, stricken, and trembling violently. And still there was utter silence in the populous bird-haunted branches around them; and still the light grew and grew.
Perhaps he would never have dared to raise his eyes, but that, though the piping was now hushed, the call and the summons seemed still dominant and imperious. He might not refuse, were Death himself waiting to strike him instantly, once he had looked with mortal eye on things rightly kept hidden.
Trembling he obeyed, and raised his humble head; and then, in that utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with fullness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern, hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on them humorously, while the bearded mouth broke into a half-smile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad chest, the long supple hand still holding the pan-pipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward; saw, last of all, nestling between his very hooves, sleeping soundly in entire peace and contentment, the little, round, podgy, childish form of the baby otter. All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered.
‘Rat!’ he found breath to whisper, shaking. ‘Are you afraid?’
‘Afraid?’ murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. ‘Afraid! Of HIM? O, never, never! And yet—and yet—O, Mole, I am afraid!’
Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.
Sudden and magnificent, the sun’s broad golden disc showed itself over the horizon facing them; and the first rays, shooting across the level water-meadows, took the animals full in the eyes and dazzled them. When they were able to look once more, the Vision had vanished, and the air was full of the carol of birds that hailed the dawn.
As they stared blankly in dumb misery deepening as they slowly realised all they had seen and all they had lost, a capricious little breeze, dancing up from the surface of the water, tossed the aspens, shook the dewy roses and blew lightly and caressingly in their faces; and with its soft touch came instant oblivion. For this is the last best gift that the kindly demi-god is careful to bestow on those to whom he has revealed himself in their helping: the gift of forgetfulness. Lest the awful remembrance should remain and grow, and overshadow mirth and pleasure, and the great haunting memory should spoil all the after-lives of little animals helped out of difficulties, in order that they should be happy and light-hearted as before.
‘It’s gone!’ sighed the Rat, sinking back in his seat again. ‘So beautiful and strange and new. Since it was to end so soon, I almost wish I had never heard it. For it has roused a longing in me that is pain, and nothing seems worth while but just to hear that sound once more and go on listening to it for ever. No! There it is again!’ he cried, alert once more. Entranced, he was silent for a long space, spellbound.
‘Now it passes on and I begin to lose it,’ he said presently. ‘O Mole! the beauty of it! The merry bubble and joy, the thin, clear, happy call of the distant piping! Such music I never dreamed of, and the call in it is stronger even than the music is sweet! Row on, Mole, row! For the music and the call must be for us.’
The Mole, greatly wondering, obeyed. ‘I hear nothing myself,’ he said, ‘but the wind playing in the reeds and rushes and osiers.’
The Rat never answered, if indeed he heard. Rapt, transported, trembling, he was possessed in all his senses by this new divine thing that caught up his helpless soul and swung and dandled it, a powerless but happy infant in a strong sustaining grasp.
In silence Mole rowed steadily, and soon they came to a point where the river divided, a long backwater branching off to one side. With a slight movement of his head Rat, who had long dropped the rudder-lines, directed the rower to take the backwater. The creeping tide of light gained and gained, and now they could see the colour of the flowers that gemmed the water’s edge.
‘Clearer and nearer still,’ cried the Rat joyously. ‘Now you must surely hear it! Ah—at last—I see you do!’
Breathless and transfixed the Mole stopped rowing as the liquid run of that glad piping broke on him like a wave, caught him up, and possessed him utterly. He saw the tears on his comrade’s cheeks, and bowed his head and understood. For a space they hung there, brushed by the purple loose-strife that fringed the bank; then the clear imperious summons that marched hand-in-hand with the intoxicating melody imposed its will on Mole, and mechanically he bent to his oars again. And the light grew steadily stronger, but no birds sang as they were wont to do at the approach of dawn; and but for the heavenly music all was marvellously still. On either side of them, as they glided onwards, the rich meadow-grass seemed that morning of a freshness and a greenness unsurpassable. Never had they noticed the roses so vivid, the willow-herb so riotous, the meadow-sweet so odorous and pervading. Then the murmur of the approaching weir began to hold the air, and they felt a consciousness that they were nearing the end, whatever it might be, that surely awaited their expedition.
A wide half-circle of foam and glinting lights and shining shoulders of green water, the great weir closed the backwater from bank to bank, troubled all the quiet surface with twirling eddies and floating foam-streaks, and deadened all other sounds with its solemn and soothing rumble. In midmost of the stream, embraced in the weir’s shimmering arm-spread, a small island lay anchored, fringed close with willow and silver birch and alder. Reserved, shy, but full of significance, it hid whatever it might hold behind a veil, keeping it till the hour should come, and, with the hour, those who were called and chosen.
Slowly, but with no doubt or hesitation whatever, and in something of a solemn expectancy, the two animals passed through the broken tumultuous water and moored their boat at the flowery margin of the island. In silence they landed, and pushed through the blossom and scented herbage and undergrowth that led up to the level ground, till they stood on a little lawn of a marvellous green, set round with Nature’s own orchard-trees—crab-apple, wild cherry, and sloe.
‘This is the place of my song-dream, the place the music played to me,’ whispered the Rat, as if in a trance. ‘Here, in this holy place, here if anywhere, surely we shall find Him!’
Then suddenly the Mole felt a great Awe fall upon him, an awe that turned his muscles to water, bowed his head, and rooted his feet to the ground. It was no panic terror—indeed he felt wonderfully at peace and happy—but it was an awe that smote and held him and, without seeing, he knew it could only mean that some august Presence was very, very near. With difficulty he turned to look for his friend and saw him at his side cowed, stricken, and trembling violently. And still there was utter silence in the populous bird-haunted branches around them; and still the light grew and grew.
Perhaps he would never have dared to raise his eyes, but that, though the piping was now hushed, the call and the summons seemed still dominant and imperious. He might not refuse, were Death himself waiting to strike him instantly, once he had looked with mortal eye on things rightly kept hidden.
Trembling he obeyed, and raised his humble head; and then, in that utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with fullness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern, hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on them humorously, while the bearded mouth broke into a half-smile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad chest, the long supple hand still holding the pan-pipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward; saw, last of all, nestling between his very hooves, sleeping soundly in entire peace and contentment, the little, round, podgy, childish form of the baby otter. All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered.
‘Rat!’ he found breath to whisper, shaking. ‘Are you afraid?’
‘Afraid?’ murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. ‘Afraid! Of HIM? O, never, never! And yet—and yet—O, Mole, I am afraid!’
Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.
Sudden and magnificent, the sun’s broad golden disc showed itself over the horizon facing them; and the first rays, shooting across the level water-meadows, took the animals full in the eyes and dazzled them. When they were able to look once more, the Vision had vanished, and the air was full of the carol of birds that hailed the dawn.
As they stared blankly in dumb misery deepening as they slowly realised all they had seen and all they had lost, a capricious little breeze, dancing up from the surface of the water, tossed the aspens, shook the dewy roses and blew lightly and caressingly in their faces; and with its soft touch came instant oblivion. For this is the last best gift that the kindly demi-god is careful to bestow on those to whom he has revealed himself in their helping: the gift of forgetfulness. Lest the awful remembrance should remain and grow, and overshadow mirth and pleasure, and the great haunting memory should spoil all the after-lives of little animals helped out of difficulties, in order that they should be happy and light-hearted as before.
Except although the memory faded, it wasn't buried in oblivion for me, nor is it on the occasions in my life when it has been repeated.
And yes! if a door opened that I could go through and be always with Him like that, I would walk through it without hesitating unless I had dependents still. That's where my heart and home lie.
I have to add that there is spiritual darkness out there too that is as horrific as He is love and joy. The void without His presence is terrible beyond easy description and is not an experience I'd wish on anyone.
I should also add that I have used a number of images to try and describe all this but they are inadequate and of course I use the specific language of my culture and religious background. It isn't something that is the property of any one spiritual framework and is common to all the the ones I've come across. Though the language and images are very different, I can see the inner experience is the same. It's particularly striking, oddly enough, in spiritual paths that don't include a personal God, such as Buddhism, or early period Taoism.
How are you nurturing it?
I am a Roman Catholic and find that the Christian faith provides me with the richness of spiritual support that I need. It's hard going it alone because we all have peaks and troughs, ups and downs, and a structured religion carries you through these. It also gives you a counter-weight - I am INFJ of course, and so drawn to the Christian mystical traditions. My favourite mystic is the guy who wrote The Cloud of Unknowing. But this is a very one-sided state of affairs and I value very highly the structured religion that comes from the STJ and SFJ sides of Catholicism. The spiritual highs are not always there, in fact they are rare, and you can run dry for years sometimes - or you can be buried in family and personal problems or work challenges. The routine and structure of puiblic worship, and access to people who can support you practically and spiritually is beyond worth to me - and I can give back in a similar way. Very importantly, it challenges me to improve myself in ways that I wouldn't otherwise through laziness, etc.
People are put off the big religions for a number of reasons. One is that they attract people who abdicate responsibility for their own spiritual journey and who seem inauthentic. Another is that they are often guilty of having people in important roles who have done great wrong. My attitude to this is that God can play a good tune on a cracked flute, and every place humans get together for a particular purpose, they can make an arse of it. I can't speak for others, but I use my insight to see what is valuable in there and embrace it - and it gives me a lot. I treat the Church a bit like my town - there are places I like and those I don't, there are things it provides that I need, and things I don't. So I use what is needful for me, but I don't fret about the other things because plenty of other folks like and use them, and that's just fine.
Regular prayer/meditation is important too and I try to spend about half an hour early each morning on this. I'm afraid I'm very weak and sometimes get caught answering threads in the forum and eating into this time.
I belong to a contemplative prayer group too, run weekly from our local Anglican parish, and that's a great experience which I highly recommend. It seems illogical to spend half an hour in completely silent prayer together with seven or eight other people, but I can say with confidence that it's hugely supportive and quite different from meditating on my own.
I don't think the Catholic church is the only way - all the authentic paths, whether of other religions, or solo spiritual journeys, start to converge if they are followed well. It's not possible to follow more than one at a time though, and a psychlogical and ethical commitment to our chosen way is essential in my view. This is analogous to the commitment we make to a particular employer.
People are put off the big religions for a number of reasons. One is that they attract people who abdicate responsibility for their own spiritual journey and who seem inauthentic. Another is that they are often guilty of having people in important roles who have done great wrong. My attitude to this is that God can play a good tune on a cracked flute, and every place humans get together for a particular purpose, they can make an arse of it. I can't speak for others, but I use my insight to see what is valuable in there and embrace it - and it gives me a lot. I treat the Church a bit like my town - there are places I like and those I don't, there are things it provides that I need, and things I don't. So I use what is needful for me, but I don't fret about the other things because plenty of other folks like and use them, and that's just fine.
Regular prayer/meditation is important too and I try to spend about half an hour early each morning on this. I'm afraid I'm very weak and sometimes get caught answering threads in the forum and eating into this time
.I belong to a contemplative prayer group too, run weekly from our local Anglican parish, and that's a great experience which I highly recommend. It seems illogical to spend half an hour in completely silent prayer together with seven or eight other people, but I can say with confidence that it's hugely supportive and quite different from meditating on my own.
I don't think the Catholic church is the only way - all the authentic paths, whether of other religions, or solo spiritual journeys, start to converge if they are followed well. It's not possible to follow more than one at a time though, and a psychlogical and ethical commitment to our chosen way is essential in my view. This is analogous to the commitment we make to a particular employer.
Why must you live with God in your life (or not for the atheist)?
I don't have much to say here. I live with the daytime sun in the sky because I am aware of it.
I hope this brain dump all makes some sort of sense. Do ask, if anyone wants any clarification.
What I mean is that it doesn’t make a difference what your beliefs are vs what you’re willing to step out for. At the end of the day, I think I have a small differing opinion on that perspective of a “collective conscience” because I do see how one thing can affect another, but regardless I respect your opinion and don’t think anyone should feel alone. At the risk of breaking op’s rules, there’s a lot of politics and expectations when it comes to religion and I’d understand anyone wanting to be done with any belief system because of it. The last thing I’d want is for you to feel like your existential period is alone.
as for atheism in that notion, the mind tends to have its beautiful aspects of what can be defined as love if care for others.
I guess my definition of God would be that in general. So even if I had a differing opinion, I’d hate to see anyone going through a hard time because of it.
and I’m sure there’s quite a big difference between “devout” belief and change. So I’m sure you’d have to elaborate too kgal.
I have had a very similar inhibition. For most of my life I’ve felt strongly that sharing my inner spiritual life was a violation and I was inhibited from saying much. It’s only in the last few years I’ve been able to try. I don’t feel a sense of violation any more, but the words I use are a poor vehicle for what I’m trying to say.
I don't feel alone or that I suffer because of it so I think you're probably projecting something onto me that I don't feel or experience.What I mean is that it doesn’t make a difference what your beliefs are vs what you’re willing to step out for. At the end of the day, I think I have a small differing opinion on that perspective of a “collective conscience” because I do see how one thing can affect another, but regardless I respect your opinion and don’t think anyone should feel alone. At the risk of breaking op’s rules, there’s a lot of politics and expectations when it comes to religion and I’d understand anyone wanting to be done with any belief system because of it. The last thing I’d want is for you to feel like your existential period is alone.
as for atheism in that notion, the mind tends to have its beautiful aspects of what can be defined as love if care for others.
I guess my definition of God would be that in general. So even if I had a differing opinion, I’d hate to see anyone going through a hard time because of it.
and I’m sure there’s quite a big difference between “devout” belief and change. So I’m sure you’d have to elaborate too kgal.
That's interesting. What do you feel changed, that you can or desire to share?
The main thing is finding people with a similar sort of experience. It can be like describing a colour such as green to someone born blind otherwise. It leads to misunderstanding and useless discussion that either misconceives or tramples on it. I find it much easier to write about than to talk too because it’s easier to use more metaphorical and poetic language than in conversation. The forum lends itself to that, but of course sharing with people in a contemplative prayer group is much easier than with other folks.
The reason it felt to me so inappropriate to share is because it’s such an intimate relationship. It’s like trying to talk about the most intimate parts of the relationship with your soulmate to people who can easily trample on it. It’s a very vulnerable feeling I guess.
That makes sense @John K , thank you for elaborating <3
Also, good morning
Also, good morning
Not my intention but quite possibly.
I feel that too. It gets pretty lonely for sure.
Well, I said it that way because it seemed rude to just say "you're wrong." lol
Most of the people in my life are pretty deeply Christian who like going to Church and doing their Bible studies. If they don't, they still believe in God and pray and assume that God exists. They praise God on Facebook for all their fortunes and pray to God when things are hard and ask for thoughts and prayers when they need extra support so that everyone can collectively shout at God together to get His attention lol. I think for those people it's difficult for them to understand why I don't feel alone or how I don't feel like I'm missing out on something greater.
From my perspective, I have people in my life that are ride or die. I have a really strong romantic relationship. I have family. I have decades long friendships. I've always had people that would come through for me when it really counted. Some people would say that it was God that brought those people into my life. I don't mind it if people believe that. I don't. Whether some God put them in my life or not does not change the fact that my reality is as it is. I don't feel the need to believe anything about it.
Besides, I feel more free and powerful than the people I know who are Christian do and even those that believe in God in a more abstract new age-y type of way. I don't know why that is. I sometimes feel they're waiting on God to show them the way, whereas I just do what I want when I feel like it.
I don't experience cosmic loneliness or existential dread or feel the need to assign meaning or purpose to myself or anything that happens. It honestly doesn't even occur to me. I just don't think in that way. The way things are where I live isn't dominated by Christian messaging either so it doesn't even feel political to me. It's just people believing whatever and that's fine by me.
Even though I do not have a relationship with God like this, I find myself following a lot of people that do. I always find it interesting to see them talk about their faith. I can tell when a person actually believes in what they're saying in a genuine and loving way and so I've never found it too much or inappropriate or whatever. What I also find interesting about it is that the people who have begun sharing more openly seem so much happier and more free than they did when they wanted to share about it but were only dipping a toe in so to speak. The difference between someone who just shares what they feel called to and those that are feeling apprehensive about it is pretty big. I also find that people that are super open with it are the least preachy about it as well and in that way it's just something that I find interesting about them.
That's an interesting perspective about it. I do think for many people, God is their safety-net and a feeling of comfort (this doesn't seem inherently wrong to me).
I've read studies that, religious beliefs are highest when people are struggling, and weakest when people feel all their needs are met. If this is true or not is another thing, though it does match my internal conceptions about humanity and likewise somewhat mirrors how you describe having people in your life that would come through for you when it really counted.
[if this goes against OP's original intent, please let me or a mod know and we'll clean it up]
Personally, I don't feel I've anybody like that in my life, including God. I feel 'when it comes down to it' it's me & me alone - but I feel confident that I can work with that if need be. It would be inconvenient.
I suppose you could say, I don't feel I need God (though perhaps I do? depending on your soteriology). But, that God does exist and that I do desire its company.
As somebody with a more abstract understanding of God, I feel free myself. Whether I feel 'freer' or not than somebody who doesn't believe in one, I've not the foggiest.
Likewise I can't say as to feeling powerful; power seems illusory to me and I wouldn't know how to measure that. A more grounded personality would understand better, I think.
I feel safe from harm, inasmuch as physical harm (to me, not to others) seems inconsequential. I feel at peace with my eventual death, though if it can be delayed that would be preferable because I'd like tidying up my loose ends.
If faced with death tomorrow, I might feel differently; it's one of those things that tends to turn people on their heads even if they think they've a handle on it.
While my life experiences tell me that there's something afterwards, I can't deny that my experiences could be wrong.
However, nothingness doesn't seem so bad. It would be a little sad for me, to think everybody I've known similarly ceases to exist, but it wouldn't be a sadness I'd have to 'live' with after-the-fact, lol.
If we're all probabilities, we'll see each other again someday, when the dice rolls line up once more. For better or worse.
Agreed!!!
I was lucky in my life to be able to drive an hour to sit in meditation with a lovely group of hearts for about 5 years! There are no such groups here in my rural area. There is a clear and discernible difference between meditation in groups and being alone. We would sit for 30 mins. Then do a Walking Meditation for 10 minutes more to help us practice being Mindful. Then have a discussion afterwards. This was excellent training for me....Mind...Heart...and Soul..... and I received so much just by doing this one effort. I miss them.
I didn't mention the prosperity Gospel. But that's a rant I won't go on here because I fucking hate it.
Amen sister..a scam to profit the con folks of religion
I've had extremely bad times and extremely good times in my life and I'm not sure I've ever felt the call to believe in God one way or another since I was maybe 15 or so, though I do recall once when I was maybe 24 or 25 where I accepted prayers from people in my life who were believers because my mental health was so bad that I could barely leave my house. But I don't actually remember praying for myself oddly enough.
What you described about feeling confident that you can work with things being you and you alone - that's exactly what I mean by power. I mean knowing that I can get through anything. It just so happens I now have people in my life I can count on. That was not always the case. I've always felt that no matter what I can pull through and that life can not destroy me until it's time for me to be dead. That kind of power (or if you want to call it strength or even just basic reptilian survival instincts) isn't so illusory to me.
Dying also seems like quite an effort. I'm OK with the idea of being dead and that being it. But the whole process of getting there seems like such a chore that I'm not really in a rush to get there lol.
For all the people in my life that have died, I'm not sure I've ever thought they were existing somewhere in the afterlife. When people tell me that they're looking down on me from Heaven I'm like.... okay? But I don't connect to it. I don't refute it because that belief is more important to them than it is to me.
(edit as I missed a word) I try not to dictate to people how things are or talk them out of their beliefs. I just know my own perspective. Some people might think I'm an atheist but I don't even know if it would be fair to use that label. I just don't connect to a lot of the common beliefs I've come across from people who believe in God - whether it's from a Christian perspective or otherwise. Thinking about it is not part of my every day experience. I would say I only think about it when a thread like this comes up or some conversation that I participate in.
I've always thought that if I was ever meant to truly believe in God by any definition that it would happen on its own and I wouldn't have to seek it out or try to force it, and that it would just "make sense." So the door is open, I just don't currently have any interest in walking through.
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