Gawd, God
Goddamnit, I’m tired of being an atheist.
For as long as I can remember (which admittedly, is sometimes only about 5 minutes) I have maintained a disbelief not only in God, but in pretty much all supernatural phenomena, including ghosts, near-death experiences, and Ouija boards at slumber parties. Lately, though, I’m wanting to believe in something big and unexplainable—and frankly, Donald Trump’s hairdo just isn’t enough.
I’m not prepared to buy the whole Judeo-Christian conception: the old white guy with the big beard and all; it’s too much like believing in Santa Claus for my taste. Nor, however, am I comfortable with the full new-age version: angels and white light and the whole Birkenstocks and linen drag.
Spinoza typically referred to it as “god or nature,” and I think that’s pretty much where I’m coming from. I like the idea of God being a mighty redwood or a squirming thousand legger—although then it does sorta freak me out to think that as a little kid I routinely squished God beneath the soles of my P.F. Flyers.
Stephen Hawking, when asked if he believed in God, supposedly said something like “yes, if by God you mean the laws of the Universe.” God as gravity and electromagnetism kind of makes sense to me; I know this because I always swear to God when something heavy is pulled to earth onto my toe.
Part of what I’m missing is a deep sense of mystery over the unknown and feeling that there is more to life than what we can see and measure. And I’d like it to last, by contrast, for longer than merely the duration of another 2-day Hempfest concert.
I want to believe that the souls of my dearly-departed parents are hovering around me, but doing so without wanting to give me unsolicited advice on how to cut my hair or fold bath towels before putting them away.
God, is that too much to ask for?
For as long as I can remember (which admittedly, is sometimes only about 5 minutes) I have maintained a disbelief not only in God, but in pretty much all supernatural phenomena, including ghosts, near-death experiences, and Ouija boards at slumber parties. Lately, though, I’m wanting to believe in something big and unexplainable—and frankly, Donald Trump’s hairdo just isn’t enough.
I’m not prepared to buy the whole Judeo-Christian conception: the old white guy with the big beard and all; it’s too much like believing in Santa Claus for my taste. Nor, however, am I comfortable with the full new-age version: angels and white light and the whole Birkenstocks and linen drag.
Spinoza typically referred to it as “god or nature,” and I think that’s pretty much where I’m coming from. I like the idea of God being a mighty redwood or a squirming thousand legger—although then it does sorta freak me out to think that as a little kid I routinely squished God beneath the soles of my P.F. Flyers.
Stephen Hawking, when asked if he believed in God, supposedly said something like “yes, if by God you mean the laws of the Universe.” God as gravity and electromagnetism kind of makes sense to me; I know this because I always swear to God when something heavy is pulled to earth onto my toe.
Part of what I’m missing is a deep sense of mystery over the unknown and feeling that there is more to life than what we can see and measure. And I’d like it to last, by contrast, for longer than merely the duration of another 2-day Hempfest concert.
I want to believe that the souls of my dearly-departed parents are hovering around me, but doing so without wanting to give me unsolicited advice on how to cut my hair or fold bath towels before putting them away.
God, is that too much to ask for?
posted by Professor Dave at 11:16 AM
1 Comments:
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