On belief and why I can’t be religious
I saw a funny post earlier today where someone on twitter wondered what non-religious people do when they’re in despair. The OP asks where they go when they’re hurting, where they turn to when the pain becomes too big for them, if not a divine being? The humorous part was the reply saying “archiveofourown.org”
I sent the post to my friends because it was funny, but then I got to thinking about the rhetorical question OP was asking. Where do I turn to? The simple answer is myself, I guess. I turn to myself and make my wellbeing my own responsibility. In fact, I can’t even imagine turning to a higher being for anything, not seriously anyway. I made the comment that I must not have it in me to be religious because I have never once thought about relying on a god to guide me in anything, despite the fact I am from a predominantly catholic, hispanic country. I have heard about angels and heaven and Jesus since I have reason, but I can count on one hand the times I have ever turned to a divine being, The time I was maybe 7, the time I was maybe 14, when I was 22. Those three times I called out to a higher being because I was going through legitimate panic attacks, I won’t say those were my lowest points (I don’t think those were, really), but I have to make it clear that I was going through medical emergencies. I snapped out of it after a few minutes once my nervous system started trying to help and I did not think about god again after. I don’t think about god or a divine being in my day-to-day life, and I didn’t back before I even thought about calling myself agnostic.
In 2020, like many other people, I had a spiritual awakening of sorts. I was 19, living in the US for the first time, with a broken family life and a really scary pandemic unfolding around me, it was due lol. I turned to witchcraft and a form of modern-day paganism. I got really into energies and crystals and plants and spells and oracle cards. That time made me learn a lot about my world view and what I do actually believe. I thought through my connection to the earth, the planets, the universe and I still carry some of those realizations with me, as my truth. I was never able to get into things like rituals and manifestation because that all felt too much like praying. I don’t believe in prayer, period. I don’t believe in the act of becoming chummy with a higher power because why would that work? That makes no sense to me. It feels silly to sit there and have high tea with ?????. My own personal belief is that there is something there and that something is everything. It’s all of us. It’s me, it’s you, it’s my cats, their fish, the water, the moon. The fact that elephants mourn their offspring, that whales and birds have their own versions of grammar, the fact that rain falls and that grass grows. The fact that my friends miss me when we’re apart and that I had fun again last week and that I’m able to write this now and you’re reading this then. That’s what’s real for me. That is what’s important to me.
With the socio-political state we’re in right now, and with how normalized violence has become, I can’t sit here and tell you that I don’t experience feelings of resentment towards the overtly religious around me. I’m surrounded by what’s considered “normal”, if you get what I’m saying. White republicans loudly proclaiming their religion and societal beliefs are absolute and anything besides those is wrong. I have gotten accosted by a 16 year old over the fact he asked if I believed in god and I said no. Old people have tried to intimidate me because I don’t know the appropriate way to respond to “he is risen” during easter time. There is hatred there. There is always hatred. The way people act, the way I am fearful around these types of people, goes directly against the faith in god I was taught growing up. The concept of the christian God has always been in my life. Not so much that I was taught about God as my family didn’t attend church, but knowing he was supposed to be there. Believing in God was never a quiz or something I had to prove (until I attended a presbyterian school for a few years. That’s a whole other can of worms oml), it was simply a part of life. My family are devoutly faithful to their god, and despite their flaws, I know they are good people. They’re accepting and they listen and they’re, generally speaking, afraid of being wrong.
“I hope there really is a heaven.” I’ve heard my father say that many times, his mother as well. Their belief is not rooted in saying they are correct and others are not. Humility is the most important thing organized religion lacks, in my opinion, and it makes those following weaker spiritually. Now, I’m not going to deny that hispanic people are also fucking crazy sometimes, that’s not what I mean. There are bigots and cult followers everywhere you go in this world, but I grew up around normal people. Fucked up but not drowning in religious psychosis at least lmoa.
I was blessed by this universe to have been born into love. There was hardship and trauma (understatement of the century) but there was real love and the people around me were genuinely trying to make it in this world. I have never been able to say I have not been loved or accepted. Neglected, yes, but shunned? never. Not because of me saying that I don’t believe in god when I was a kid, nor when I came out as queer. Despite all of my differences and my difficulties the people in my life that believe in their God still want what’s best for everyone. They want health and calm and happiness for those around them. I’m happy that they are able to believe that God is real and accepting of them. I am truly glad they have a heaven to look forward to, even if they can’t say they know 100% that it’s there.