Obviously, God never came out and told me what he wanted me to do so I imagined that he was asking me to be a priest. I came to this conclusion because I was passionate about evangelisation, service, and leadership. It seemed like the perfect fit. I've given that up though because the whole concept of God having a plan for each of us is rendered implausible by the vast number of people who never achieve anything close to what they thought God planted in their hearts to do. Mother Teresa's crisis of faith shook my understanding of this from the core and I never turned back. We were told that 'peace' was the gift given to those who were doing God's will, and here was this usually inspirational woman, broken from within and questioning the existence of her beloved Saviour. Some call this the "dark night of the soul" and I love the poetry of the string of words, but having gone through it myself, I know it is the despair one feels confronting the unimaginable possibility that what you believed was truly unbelievable.
So just how do I gain meaning from my life? Well I must answer this question with another question. What do you mean by having a meaning for life? Usually, the belief in a divine purpose that was destined before we were born is the source of meaning. Even in the absence of clear knowledge of what that purpose is, the mere idea of the possibility gives a person hope. Now, not believing in a deity does not afford me this right to believe in a divine purpose for my life. I do not think that I am born to do a task that only I can do well, and frankly, I am relieved. I'd hate to have such a pivotal, historical role and fail. It may be hard to believe when you are a believer - it was hard for me to believe as well - that living without God can be 'meaningful', and that very human emotions like hope and love are seen as illusory. All of this is utterly untrue.
Here is what I know about myself. I know that I was born in Trinidad and Tobago, and fortunately, into a nuclear, middle-class Afro-Trinidadian family as a heterosexual male. Nature was kind enough to give me a big head with a big brain which seems to make academia not so difficult. I know that I also have higher than normal (but far from the highest) musical intelligence. I know that I have developed a love for books, football and sharing knowledge. I enjoy eating pizza and macaroni pie and I love to see beautiful women. I can go on, but I don't want you to get too excited. And on top of all these wonderful things, I love writing about them all.
As a Christian, I was told that peace comes in doing God's will. Well now I know that to be untrue and I know many religious can relate, although they may be unwilling to admit it. No religious person has constant peace or happiness. As an atheist, neither do I. There are times when I contemplate the banality of my life and I get deeply depressed but it is no different from when I was faithful to Jesus. Religion, though not explicitly in orthodox doctrines, promises to the masses a happiness whose definition contains imminence. It only takes reflection to realise that this definition is a fantasy and has never been achieved in reality.
How do I try to live my life? I try to enjoy it as much as possible without getting in anyone else's way - "And it harms none, do what you will." This has been relatively easy since most of my enjoyment is garnered from sitting in my room reading. But I also enjoy friendship, a cold stag, a good game of football and going to the beach. It sounds very lack-luster next to a towering saint who was sent her by God to save thousands of souls from damnation, I know, and I am content with that. There is one thing, however, that I have consciously set up as a guide for my life. This is the closest thing to 'meaning' that I can conceive.
One thing that gives me great joy is learning something new. Books are my favourite place to do so. I am grateful for all the men and women who took the time to write their novels and non-fiction books that keep me up late at night. It is their sacrifice (and writers would understand the sacrifice) that gives me one of my most sought after pleasures. It just so happens that I am also able to write well, or so I've been told. What greater 'meaning' can I conjure for my life than to write? I write and write and write in the hope that some other poor fellow happens across my words and stays up late reading as well. Dream? To be published. To write books that would be appreciated by other human beings. If this sounds unappealing to you, I am unclear as to why the prospect of an eternity worshiping God draws you in so much. I am of the opinion that it is more the fear of death than the desire for heaven that drives us to believe in an afterlife.
A source of distress, I think, for many people is thinking in ultimate terms when we live within time. We imagine having some 'ultimate' purpose when all you really need at the moment is food or sex. What's the use in wondering about the ultimate purpose for anything if we have no reason to think 'ultimates' exist in the first place? It is a tempting line of reasoning, but I prefer to resist it. It causes unnecessary psychological incongruity; always thinking that your life at the moment is not the life you were 'supposed' to live is no easy burden to carry.
Let no love desiring heart
In the stars go seek his fate.
Love is only nature's art
Wonder hinders love and hate.
None can well behold with eyes
But what underneath him lies. --------Fulke Greville
I do not deny the possibility of an afterlife. Don't get your hopes up though because I do not deny the possibility that there is an intangible and invisible dragon in my room right now. I believe in neither. All that I am certain of is the present moment. All that I have is this life. Greville's poem condemns a love that looks too much to the heavens. This type of love obscures the only love we are sure of, the love that is before our eyes. It gives as an unhealthy escape from the double edged blade of love. We are able, then, to trust in God alone, and refuse to place our trust in people. I, however, am attempting to refocus my gaze to the people in my life - to build trust and love and fun memories. In no way am I saying Christians are unable to do the same. Some Christians do this better than I ever could. I'm just saying that I want to give and receive an earthy, rugged, present kind of love because all else is imaginary and burdensome. I want to suck all that I can out of this life and give all that I can back to it before I die. Then, I would live forever in the memories of those who read what I have written, I would experience the pain and joy to be alive. And even though I do not think I would survive my own death (what a strange phrase) and the idea of non-existence can feel intimidating at times, I quickly remember that I didn't exist before August 8, 1990, and that seemed to have been an okay experience.
I'm out of God and out in the open spaces.
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