Yesterday, Toby and I watched a slug ooze a path across our rain-slicked driveway. It moved painfully slowly, but we didn’t interfere. Toby held his basketball carefully with both hands, not dribbling, and neither of us tried to step on it, and as it constricted-expanded, constricted-expanded, Toby said, “God made slugs, but not very well.” And I thought, “Maybe.” To the God part, not to the ‘not very well’ part. Although, that too. And then I looked back down at the slug, so vulnerable and weak and (I’m assuming here) blind, and felt a sudden, disturbing kinship.
The trouble with being agnostic is all the wide open expanse of possiblity around you, vast and empty and deafening in its silence. All that room for error as you make your way, so slowly, across. There’s nothing comforting about it, nothing to grasp onto and hold, no one to pray to. There’s always something looming over you: uncertainty, inconsistancies, the duel proof of creation and destruction in birth and death, and there’s no where to hunker down, duck under cover, and hide.
Much better, of course, to be like Toby, the one standing tall. Armed against what he sees. I suppose I should have a similar perspective, but I don’t and never have. I’ve always been the one lost in the forest, beating at the branches, not at the peak, enjoying the view. The one drawn by various paths, finding few of them lead anywhere, and yet so many lead somewhere.
I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else, and yet, when my kids ask questions–the big ones, the good ones–I don’t hand out the easy answers I’ve learned in Sunday School (and they have, too), even though the silence is hard to hear. Even though this agnostic forest is no place for children. Instead, I say, “I don’t know,” because I don’t, and “What do you think?” because I want to know, and “But how do you know?” because I really, really want to know. I value the honing of their cognitive abilities above the sculpting of their faith. And when they pause, unsure in their steps, I know they’re there: in the middle of that vastness that’s so scary. But I don’t pluck them out, even though I want to. Even though reassurance is a soft warm blanket only one well-intentioned promise away.
They’ll never find their way if I do.
{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }
Even though I have PLENTY of questions that I TRULY don’t understand about God, and religion, and the way the world works, the fact that the universe IS speaks loudly and clearly to me that God IS.
There’s a lot about how things unfold that I don’t get.
But the existence of a Creator has not been an issue that I’ve had to wrestle with much.
It can’t be an easy place for you to be. My heart goes out to you.
Susan in the Boonies recently posted..An Orphan Mentality
Yes, I see evidence of a Creator and can embrace that. After that, all bets seem to be off. It’s hard, but it’s the place where I find myself right now.
I always think that the world–the tough parts–is a little easier for those with strong faith.
TheKitchenWitch recently posted..In honor
Amen. I envy those with it.
Life really would be so much easier, so much more secure if one can believe. I am not one of the lucky ones. Where I see the hardest times – in death. There is no comfort, only memories.
Cathy recently posted..what do you think?
It’s difficult, but it’s the only way I can be honest with myself. Still, we’re always learning and evolving. Maybe it will all become clear to us one day? Maybe?!
The older I get, the less inclined I am to follow the path on which I was raised. It is exhausting to always question. It is exhausting to try to force myself to accept what others seem to do so easily and yet what always slips from my grasp. It is exhausting to believe that anyone other than mortal men, with mortal brains and mortal thoughts, wrote the rules and then changed them. And then changed them again. When I let go of all of that, of the need to believe and to belong, the release was complete. I am now even more in awe of life, because I see it as amazing unto itself. And I see humanity as one life force, always evolving, always a part of all other life forces. To divide ourselves in any way, to select one narrow interpretation of life, makes no sense.
YES. You put this so well. The exhaustion is what has been getting to me…the trying and trying to fit that square peg into a round hole. Thank you for commenting.
Renee, this is an amazing way to express what I think a lot of us feel– myself included.
Sarah recently posted..Compared to Love, I’m Feeling Pretty Good Right Now
That’s a sweet story. And you’re a brave Mom – allowing your kids to come up with their own solutions…
There have been many times, after a long string of three-year-old questions that I have wished I could just say, “because of God!” but instead we usually work ourselves all the way back to “Because of the Big Bang!” I’d be curious to read a post by you about how and why you’ve made decisions to raise your kids with church and Sunday school while being agnostic yourself. You know, in case you don’t already have enough to right about.
Andrea recently posted..Fabulous Weekend…
A very good friend of mine is so very religious and spiritual and hands everything to her God of choice. I envy that type of devotion and she is constantly teaching me how she approaches each situation with such deep faith. It’s an amazing thing to witness.
Thanks for writing this piece.
Rudri Bhatt Patel @ Being Rudri recently posted..Silence
I’m right there with you Amy. Always answering with, “Some people believe” and “I don’t know.” I wish I could offer them more, but I just can’t.
And I bring the kids to church, but don’t always know how I feel about that!