The Damned

A former coworker of mine just lost his sister to cancer after years of riding the rollercoaster of hope and fear. His love for her inspired me, and it reminded me acutely of what it was like to watch a family member die from the disease.

I have only experienced fresh grief as a Christian. My father died in 2003, and I sought comfort and peace in the hope that he was “in a better place” and free from pain, experiencing the joy and bliss he always desired in life. He was a very passionate believer, and he would always tell me we’d “be together again” when my time was up. I found this to be very soothing and helpful, because I didn’t want to let him go. I wanted more time with him, and I desperately wanted him to be healthy again. I was so fearful of being separated forever. Magical solution? Heaven. Duh.

I’ve never lost a loved one as an atheist, so I honestly can’t speak to what it feels like to say goodbye to someone knowing we will never be together again. I imagine this could be a healthy, helpful way of letting someone go, processing the loss, and moving forward. Is that so?

What matters most to me now is understanding someone’s role in my life and how that helps me be a better person. That way, they live on in me, through me. My father is part of me down to my very DNA. He’s gone, but he has a legacy that affects me and every single person I encounter. I am very fortunate to have had such a great life with him while it lasted. Isn’t that what grief should be about?

What about you?

We can all can talk a good game about how great it is not to be oppressed by the burden of hell, yada yada… but only someone who has actually experienced a loss can talk about what grief is like.

Has anyone out there experienced intense grief as both a faithful religious person and as an atheist? How did your experiences differ on a personal level? Could you share with as much transparency as possible (as you feel comfortable)? Were both healthy experiences? Was one more comforting than another? When someone says “It doesn’t matter if so-and-so has faith in Heaven if it comforts them,” do you agree or disagree?

No, not a new contributor here at Skeptical Eye, though it would be as useful as most of the contributors listed.


I have two small toy cars on my desk at work. I also have a small brass Buddha. In addition, I have a wooden top, that I spin while I'm "working". I like spinning my top. It's more satisfying than my blue glass cat, that sits, dignified, the way a cat should, observing all the other knickknacks with disdain. But I'd rather give up my top than my blue cat.

I have a plastic dinosaur, but I haven't added him yet to my desk. I feel he's a little out of place, and though small, still much larger than the other objects he would join. Well, he is a dinosaur, so I guess he should be the biggest thing there.

I've wanted to buy a small indoor plant for my desk for the longest time, but haven't found a suitable one. I don't want a plastic plant, though such would fit right in.

My mom threw out a bunch of stuff, mostly old papers and junk mail, recently. I discovered, upon finding out about this, that she included in this pile of what she considered trash, a small plastic pineapple. I asked her why she was getting rid of the pineapple, but she had no answer. She also had no clue as to where it had come from. Ah, a mysterious plastic pineapple. Just what I was looking for to add to my desk. I'm going to keep it. It's kind of a plant, though plastic, but at least it will fit in with the other members of my work crew.

When you meet someone new or are just enjoying discussions with other people, are you ever surprised when you find out they don’t share your views? I keep having this experience! Tonight while at dinner with a group of women, one of them mentioned her pre-teen son being baptized at their church since he just “got saved” and how excited she was. During her story, I kept expecting a punchline—as if she would suddenly laugh and tell a story about going skinny dipping in the baptism dunk tanks. But no, she was totally serious, and nothing’s wrong with that.

It made me wonder: Do we assume the people with whom we get along are going to think the same ways we do? I think I do! For instance, I’m skeptical about the paranormal; I do not believe ghosts exist. A friend of mine gabs constantly about ghost hunting and the supernatural, and all the while  I laugh and think she must be joking because, hell, who honestly believes in ghosts? Well, she does. Why am I so surprised? Is it my ego?

I remember feeling this way as a Christian as well; If I met someone who wasn’t a believer, it was like a trip into a different world. They were strange, foreign, and mysterious. How could they not believe in Jesus? Of course, Christianity is so popular that it’s sometimes difficult to find people who openly identify with something else—at least in my area. So why am I walking through life as part of the atheist minority assuming everyone else thinks Satan is silly and God is a figment of our imaginations? I have no idea! I guess I think I’m normal!

Last Sunday was stuffed full of freedom like a donut with jelly—the kind that drips down your chin as you laugh with delight. I got to stroll around my hometown in the sunshine; slurp an enormous smoothie; watch a man in a wolf mask play violin; wander through market stalls filled with hippie goods; and hear a man selling soap tell a joke with the punchline, “So god turned him into a woman and she walked across the bridge!” And all this was before the tornado warning, basement picnic, and hours of stories and secrets told in the back bedroom.

Homespun therapy didn’t occur because of the places I explored or things I did, but because I experienced them with someone who knows me. Sure, my friend Jenn and I hadn’t seen each other since my father’s memorial service over 8 years ago, but we knew one another’s pasts and personalities. We still understood the inner bits that matter, even with a near decade slung between us like a suspension bridge buried in fog.

What enveloped my heart as I sat with Jenn, walked with Jenn, and talked with Jenn was a natural freedom to be absolutely honest, completely myself, and laughing uproariously about it. Our conversation, stories, and jokes were a balm on the slice of my being many would call a soul. It’s that gnarled bit of me that is unprotected from the events of life. It dangles precariously on a precipice, beaten raw by the wind and bleached by the salt in the swells below. Oh, my life isn’t always so jarring, but lately I’ve felt as if it’s been one wave crashing forward after another. There is no barrier between my deepest, most vulnerable sense of self, and all of life’s changes and moods. Yes, vulnerable … that’s the best word for this kind of inner nakedness.

Missing Words

The peace I received from Jenn’s presence and openness was as medicinal as writing used to be for me.  Before the term “blogging” was coined, I was scrawling my personal insights, questions, and (rather boring) life’s stories into both paper and online journals. I frequently gave away too much information, but my examinations were honest and forthright. I was a typical teenager with a diary at that stage: God, boys, school, and friends were some of my favorite topics.

My life was fairly simple (even if I didn’t see it as such at the time); yet there was a magic to writing that drew me closer to those who read my words. Reading a journal was an investment in someone’s inner life. You saw an unashamed, unapologetic view of their thoughts and feelings, and there was a conversation and exchange that followed. Some of the friends I made back in the old online journaling days are still present in my life today. Why? I think it’s because they know me—like Jenn knows me. After sharing your true self with someone, and bring them along in your story, an intimacy is created whether you realize it or not.

So what happened to the intimacy in my writing? Did it go away when I limited myself to being “Godless Girl” and writing an “atheist blog?” There are a truck load of atheist bloggers about who usually talk through the same subjects and news bulletins. Nothing is wrong with that, and obviously I enjoy it myself or I wouldn’t do it… but lately I’ve missed writing. In fact, when someone asks me what I want to be when I grow up (And I don’t know if I ever will), I find myself sighing whistfully and muttering something obscure about “getting back into writing” or “finding a creative outlet.”

I don’t have a paper journal anymore. I am not interested in keeping one at this time. What I need is the medicinal experience that sending my words out into the universe can provide. Even if it bores a reader or three to absolute insanity, it would be good for me.

Amanda, Portia, Lamar and Will spent time with us on-camera to speak personally about the challenges they face as atheists in their own religious communities. They talk about morality and happiness. And they address their own reasons for rejecting the notion of god in favor of factual evidence, reason and common sense.

It may be admirable to claim that I read only to learn and expand my mind, but to be perfectly honest, I read because I enjoy it! It’s fun. If I happen to learn or challenge myself during this pursuit—all the better. I’m the furthest thing from a book snob as you can probably get while still loving to read.

I’ve purchased heaps of books lately (both audio and paper) that must be read! Have you read any of them? Which should I pick up next?

Fiction

The Gray Man by Mark Greaney
The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connelly
The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf by Molly Harper [fuckme, some of these titles seem embaraassing, don't they?]
Naked in Death by J. D. Robb [I love naked stuff]
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier
The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Non-fiction

The End of Faith by Sam Harris [Are you shocked that I haven't finished this book yet?]
Why I Am Not a Christian & Other Essays on Religion & Related Subjects by Bertrand Russell
Letters from the Earth: Uncensored Writings by Mark Twain
The Varieties of Scientific Experience: A Personal View of the Search for God by Carl Sagan

I’m leaving out a bunch of great options hiding on my shelves, but this is a good start.

What are you reading right now?

Last night, by the sound of things outside my window, I thought a major storm had arrived. But no, it was just extremely windy. Call it a wind storm if you will, though not a powerful enough one to knock a tree down. It's still windy this morning as I write this, and so I thought I'd discuss the wind with you all...

Oh hell with discussing the wind! I'll just half-remember an old story that happened when we lived in Florida. My sister and I lived with my Mom and her second husband, Ray. We had our own (rented) house at first, but Ray was a sign painter and work (he worked only out of the trunk of his car) must have slowed way down. So, we ended up living with Fat Annie and her two teenage boys. She had rooms to rent, so we rented one, and all four of us shared one small room. It was like something out of a Charles Dickens novel. Anyway, that's another subject.

One weekend Fat Annie was going to take her boys to a little carnival, mostly just booths with various games. I think she asked Mom if we could go along, and Mom said sure and gave us some money. We arrived in Fat Annie's beat up old Chevy, and the whole thing was setup in a large parking lot. You had to but those little tickets to play the games, so we did, and we were actually having some fun when suddenly (and I do mean suddenly) the wind went crazy! My sister's hair was blowing like mad and mine, being a bit longer than hers, was blowing even wilder! Everyone seemed to ignore it at first, as if it was nothing, but soon the wind got stronger and then it started to rain. Just a few light drops at first, but within minutes (and just as I was about to win a stuffed bear) it started pouring. It was suddenly a heavy rain, and then the wind picked up even more. I'd never been in anything like it before, when shockingly (to me) the booths and their tent coverings took off into the air! It was wild and crazy! We ran to the edge of the parking lot for shelter under Fat Annie's huge body, and from that limited safety, we watched our wonderful afternoon and stuffed bear dreams blow away into the dark, rainy sky. Soon the whole lot was empty, with debris everywhere, but all the game booths and any prizes worth playing for had disappeared.

The storm died as suddenly as it had been born, and Fat Annie kept saying to herself that she shouldn't have brought my sister and I with them, and what would she tell our mother (Mom had been a little reluctant to let us go).

I had a pocket of very wet and deteriorating tickets left in my pocket, but no money. Annie pulled into a McDonald's and she kindly "traded" us the worthless tickets for a few dollars to buy a couple of hamburgers and some fries. That hot, cheap food almost made the ordeal worth it, and I think we went home to our room pretty happy.

Childhood memories also make me think of all those television specials and cartoons we loved so much, even when we'd seen them many times before. The Winnie the Pooh cartoons were favorites, especially, The Blustery Day.

image by basykes used under Creative Commons


"I can't breathe out here in the hallway!" That's what I said just the other day when I arrived at work and made my way down the corridor to the department where I slave away for my capitalist bosses. Apparently they've decided to spend some money sprucing the place up a bit (hey, the recovery is here and it's safe to spend that extra cash now!) so they hired a painter to redo all the interior walls and repaint them. All of the evidence of the late night painters activity was visible; tape on the doorways and trim, tarps on the carpet (which they really shouldn't worry about, it's so worn and stained that paint droppings could only improve it), rollers, paint cans and brushes, all along the walls.

The smell, though, it was nearly unbearable. The fumes were choking me and a lot of others, but our manager said she liked the strong odor, loved it in fact. I told her she must be kidding, but no, she replied she was being completely truthful, so much so that she longed to have her own place repainted just to breath in those lovely paint fumes and enjoy the richness of fresh paint smell.

What strange smells do you enjoy? I knew a kid who loved the smell of gasoline, and he would stick his head out the window whenever his dad drove into a gas station (that kid is no longer with us, by the way; some kind of "accident" involving a combustible). I had a cousin who as a kid loved the smell of cows and also was prone to sticking his head out the car window whenever his family took a Sunday drive.

“Life sucks and then you die.” Or so said my coworker when she heard about my break-up with my boyfriend yesterday. I laughed, and she promised she would pray for God to take away my troubles. Another acquaintance tried to comfort me by saying I shouldn’t be afraid about finding another man in the future. God would provide, and we have nothing to fear.

Well, sometimes life does suck, being lonely is no fun, and once in a while I wonder if I will find a mate for the long haul who will be an amazing match for me. But am I afraid? Does being an atheist have anything to do with my heartache? I don’t think so, no.

Fear and Humanity

Do atheists fear the world? Is fear a bad thing? Would believing in God protect us from trouble and remove fear from our lives?

The Secret Atheist posted a response to an Oswald Chambers quote on fear:

“The remarkable thing about God is that when you fear God, you fear nothing else, whereas if you do not fear God, you fear everything else.” —Oswald Chambers

There was a time when I thought that all non-Christians lived their life in constant fear. Fear of the future, fear of death, fear that they would be wrong in the end and have to face judgment.

[This] is a lie spread by Christianity in order to protect itself from unbelief. If believers think that without god there is only fear, they will be less likely to question their beliefs.  … I don’t fear everything. I don’t fear god. I don’t fear death.

At first blush, I agree with his reaction to Chambers and those who quote him. I also spent my life thinking non-believers had no hope in life and no comfort in trials. When my father died, I thanked Jesus that I had him to help and console me and that I didn’t have to mourn hopelessly like non-Christians did.

I think I see what Ozzy (as one of my favorite authors as a believer, we’re on a nickname basis ) was saying in the sense that fearing God basically meant having a reverential respect and sense of incredible awe towards Yahweh’s powers. If you think your deity is perfect, good, loving, and can do anything for you that you ask for, then I can see how the world and our struggles might appear less daunting or intimidating. If I had Superman in my back pocket, I’d feel pretty safe.

Unfortunately, this view takes away the dignity and power and capability from the individual and places it all on an unknowable, untouchable, invisible being who doesn’t show up in tights and a cape when life goes awry. As believers, we do not teach ourselves to be able and influential if all we focus on is our inability and God’s super-ability.

I much prefer the humanistic point of view that we are empowered to do good, and to do it as best we can. Sure, there will be impossible obstacles to overcome along the way, and no, we won’t have an escape from struggle. But we will know that we chose to act, and we made the world a better place despite any fear or failure.

Life is hard, and some of it is frightening, but we need not bend to fear or tell ourselves that a supernatural superhero is going to come save us. We don’t need to be weaklings or self-deprecating. Even the most imperfect of us can do the most good. We need to work and toil together and hope for what’s real.

A Personal P.S.

I truly appreciate the kind tweets, emails, and texts many of you have sent in response to my broken relationship. I don’t often know how to reveal that side of my inner life to people—even my closest friends and family. Having virtual and long-distance hugs and kind words come from you really does make an impact on my feelings. Thank you so much. I’m very sad about things ending between him and I , but I am very thankful that we handled it like grown-ups and have split amicably. I’m sure this will be a good thing for both of us in the long run.

An email from Rev. Richard Robbins:

Your name is wrong. You are not a godless girl. Your name should actually be denial girl. You can tell me till the cows come home there is no God but I know for a fact that you believe in God you are just living in denial. If you admit there is a God then you have to deal with being accountable to Him. Not such a happy thought.

I bought the wrong domain name, folks! Is denialgirl.com still available?

Mr. Robbins,

I didn’t think one of the “gifts of the spirit” was telepathy. Apparently I missed that in one of Paul’s epistles. It seems you claim to have the same mind-reading power as the deity you worship. Do you also claim to be all-knowing? Maybe it’s limited to the thoughts and views of atheists? Very curious indeed!

I’ve stated before that the ignorant claim that atheists can’t handle being accountable for our actions and “sins” is ridiculous. Apparently atheists’ refutations of this canned accusation haven’t made a dent in the condescending beliefs behind it, so let me hold up a mirror for you:

You can tell me till the cows come home that Ahura Mazda does not exist, but I know for a fact that you believe in Ahura Mazda and are just living in denial. If you admit Ahura Mazda exists, you have to deal with being accountable to him. Not such a happy thought.

See how amusing that sounds? How likely are you to convert to Zoroastrianism because of what I said? Your answer is going to be the same as mine if you had asked me how likely I am to take your statements seriously. Sorry, Mr. Robbins, it just doesn’t work that way.  I can’t be shamed or frightened into believing in a deity if there is no evidence that one exists. Doing so would be intellectually dishonest and delusional.

One more thing: According to Christianity, it doesn’t matter if someone admits there is a God or not; they will still be held accountable for their actions (as will all Christians, if you’ve forgotten what your guy said in Matthew 7:21-25). Of course, you wouldn’t have this problem if you believed in the true god, Ahura Mazda. Good luck!