Personal Journal

More on the dilemma of atheism.

I really really really want to believe that some form of fatalism exists in the universe. I would far prefer animistic religiosity in which each of us is endowed by our creator with an ability to intuit or reason our way to a higher state of goodness (however you define that). I was having a great Thursday night last week with my lesbian friend Susan (who I fantasize about from time to time, though it’s not relevant) and she is pseudo-new age (pseudo in the sense that she has some rational brakes in how she sees spirituality), and she was just told that her job is being eliminated, and when she found out, she said that honest to god, her reaction was one of relief, not despair.

And so, she said, that leads her to believe that the current running under her universe indicates it’s time to move on (and in her case: that’s so utterly true because her boss was a malicious and hate-filled person).

I explained to her that, after Rachelle (remember that name, readers), I was forced to abandon any pretense that my faith in a higher power entirely. And I did, and I continue, because I see it as the path of the highest integrity. Whether or not there is a creative force behind the universe is entirely immaterial: if there is, obviously it is completely oblivious to my existence; obviously it is completely indifferent to the concept of suffering (and I speak not of my own, but of the suffering that every animal in existence has ever faced). I prefer the “creator as sperm cell” metaphor. Something may have created the universe, but it appears entirely reasonable to presume that it had no conscious intention of doing so, nor any ability to conceive of the consequence of creation.
I talked to Susan about how the seeming impossibility of finding a new job has made me feel like a loser and a liar and a cheat and I was starting into several other self-depricating adjectives when she simply said: “Stop!”

She proceeded to tell me that (and I paraphrase) the energy that I manifest in thought will come to be in my life. Hmm, well, I’m not sure how I feel about that, but it’s certainly a reasonable idea not to dwell on all the negativity that the job search manifests. She assured me I’m not any of those things, but I tell you, I think I’m deficient in a variety of ways, some my fault, some not, and I’m not sure I’m ever going to break through to something greater. It is entirely possible that the best points in my life were the periods of 1992 to 1995, when I lived alone, on a fixed income, and had plenty of money to live the lifestyle I was happy with (this was probably less than $12,000 a year), and then again between 2005 and 2006 between the time I got comfortable after Jean died and the time I got serious with Rachelle (curses!).

I do seem to be anticipating my own failures, and I have been discouraged, and at various points along the path, defeated, and I am having to reconcile the notion that I am no longer the wildly inexhaustible being I used to think I was (and perhaps I was never that). I recognize my human frailty and ubiquitous failings, and I’m not entirely happy with the lot in life that I, at least (and probably most of us), find ourselves in. I’m not likely to ever be rich, I’m not likely to ever be powerful/influential (I prefer the latter but I would certainly accept both).

And the fact that this consistent universal message (via the job search) that “Dane has no value” is increasing in frequency and volume all while I’m working reasonably hard, and making rather large sacrifices, in pursuit of an MBA degree from a goddamn NON-ONLINE DIPLOMA MILL really makes me question the various assumptions that underlie functioning society. WHAT THE FUCK? WHY CAN’T I EVEN GET A CALL-BACK!

These are the waves of life for me for now. I don’t know if I’ll reach shore or drown. The truth is none of us knows when our times are up, but I was thinking the other day how, if I died between now and the end of my school time next May, how unforgivably PISSED I would be that I entered grad school at all because it has soaked up entirely too much of my time, energy, money, and sense of autonomy.

And in these moments of gargantuan rage, impossible to direct outward, when I seethe in a tempest of belief that objectively reports that all things are statistical accidents with no governing pattern, I occasionally find myself called to the idea that ‘things happen for a reason’. And like the siren song to Odysseus, it smells of honey and sunshine, and offers comfort. I would so like to believe. IN fact, I used to believe.

But I recall, particularly with Rachelle and the futility of trying to make her see, that there is no pattern. There is no Providence. There is no meaningful compassionate god out there to set the scales even in this life, nor is there a next one.

You make the best of it, and love is the only comfort, death the only end to the struggle to steal energy.
The objective rationality leaves you pensive.

There are so few atheists, I think, because it’s a very difficult path to walk. Maintaining integrity in anything is a difficult prospect among humans. But that for me is what atheism boils down to: integrity. I can’t believe. I lose respect for myself.
I wonder if the harshness that I am interpreting from the universe, particularly in the context of this job hunt, isn’t costing me something that I shouldn’t want to pay.

I try to view it as more statistics. Regression to the mean. Eventually my ‘luck’ will turn. Eventually, the blind squirrel will find its way to a nut. At least I have a job.

I don’t know whether to take a break from the search or to keep trying. I’m tired of thinking about it.


It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn