My Own Hands

      It has been quite the journey to accept what I am.  

     At first, I tried to hide it so as not to offend anyone.  I figured I could influence others by camouflaging myself in an ostensibly spiritual garment; however, I've bumped into a wall.  I am an atheist.  For years, my nose has been pressing up the window pane of my Self trying to fit into a certain mold.  But why would they insist?  Why would they care save for some comfort?  With the premise that belief is the absence of knowing or else it wouldn't be belief, it must be that my apparent faith brought comfort to those around me.  So, while I subscribed to living a lie to myself, it seems that in a way I was living a lie for others.

    And offending?  I don't know why I was ever so concerned with offending anybody.  Over the past years, just a glance at social media feeds and it isn't hard to discern how the self-proclaimed righteous have no reservations when it comes to being offensive.  So, why should I keep living a lie to keep peace that is beyond my control?

    Control is the heart of the issue.  Who has control of anything who does not yet have control of themselves?  Why should I spend so much time on the problems of others if I am not a whole being?  What is a whole being?  Am I ever truly whole?  I am what I am.  How can I ever hope to grasp what I am if I am always defining myself as some weak passive creature that needs to be led around by some invisible hand reaching down from the sky?  How can I know my true existential values if value is spoon fed to me?  It is said that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink.  But, who is to say that the horse wouldn't find water without the intervention of humankind?  How else does a wild horse exist?

    By offering myself upward and outward, I give up my control.  And, this is exactly what preachers seek in their sheep.  Whether intentionally or unintentionally, by inducing others to give up control, with the help of charisma, they set themselves up as the mouthpiece of a god to speak through them.  What else is this but the pastors themselves controlling those who are more credulous with the appearance that god commands such and such or god is consoling in this or that matter.  It all seems to be nothing more than some fun little fairy-tale game.  A game which I have played for the majority of my life.  All I'm saying is that I have taken the control back and that I am proclaiming, "Thank you, no thank you."

    And if I fail?  Is it not so much a matter of abandonment as learning to walk on my own two feet?  Besides, what is failure but a value which is projected out into the world.  Who gets to decide what failure looks like but myself?  Perhaps I overlooked a thing and some negative reaction in the world is nothing more than an opportunity for me to take a closer examination of it.  And, if I fail to take that closer examination, perhaps it's a missed opportunity or perhaps it wasn't that big of a deal.  It certainly appears that making a deal bigger than it is is the nature of the human psyche.  And, why imbue any manner of hyperbole into the world unless the one doing it is seeking acceptance or worth from others.  Grandiosity seems to be a natural response to insure that one exists and is not alone.

    All I'm saying is that I find value in being alone.  I can best examine myself and the world which I exist in when I am in my solitude.  This is the fundamental nature of contemplation.  And, so what if my contemplation has surpassed belief in a god?  The gaps wherein others find comfort in positing god, I find joy in discovering the missing pieces.  It seems as such that the idea of god is nothing more than a comfort.  And, that's the point.  What does it mean to be alone and not need some external comfort which has been posited on my behalf which I have been induced to believe.  

    So, if I'm not afraid of being alone, why bother with a blog of this nature?  I suppose here we deal with semantics.  On the one hand, I'm not afraid of being alone as far as in a world where order is nothing more but my own projection into it.  I am not afraid of being alone in regards to some higher power.  At the same token, one needs others who have gone down a road similar to theirs for there are strength in numbers.  I want to say that it is so they know they aren't crazy but perhaps it is better put that they don't go crazy in the midst of all these people who are so quick to gather around a pulpit rather than think for themselves.  Perhaps, by writing here, I can help somebody else find stability in their own nothingness.

    But, doesn't that sound a tad grandiose in and of itself?  Perhaps.  Perhaps, I need not write at all; and perhaps nobody will read what I do write.  That doesn't bother me so much.  But, whether somebody comes across this or not, I love to write - blogs, music, poetry, etc.  This passion is a part of me and it has been something which I have worked on for years as it is the foundation of my contemplative journey.  Either I contribute to the world or I don't.  And whether it's for the good or for the bad, I suppose that is for the reader to decide.  I know who I am and I know my intentions.  In the midst of all the noise, isn't it worthwhile to live and let live?

    So, am I possessed?  If I am possessed of anything at all, it is merely myself.  Finding the self is a lifelong journey and one isn't ever fully what one is until they have died.  And at that point, what they are is left to interpretation to all those who did or did not know them.  I shall walk in my shoes and follow each inquiry which my mind pushes forth into the nothingness of the atmosphere.  Self-discovery and self-actualization are my driving force - the self for myself and the self for others.   That is my path and I am not so afraid to fall.