This week I read a blog post and it hasn't, in itself, stuck with me. What has stuck with me is a comment written to me by the author in response to a comment I'd made about the post's subject. I wasn't offended by it. My feelings weren't hurt by it. But it's given me a lot to ponder. About faith. This is the comment:
"It saddens me because spirituality isn't reality based. It's fantasy based."
Now, how does this person know that?
Doesn't this person know me well enough yet to realize I'm not the type of person who'd base the most important beliefs of my life for the past 32 years on fantasy? That it's an insult to my intelligence to say such a thing?
What is so ironic about this is once upon a time I felt exactly as this person did about 'organized' religion and Christians. I was sanctimonious and smug and fully convinced that my lack of any faith or belief in God's reality was the right opinion, the only opinion. Because it was my opinion. I delved deeply into satanism and various aspects of the occult for seven years. I sat back and smirked and snarked and belittled Christians. I loathed their hypocrisy. I blasphemed the concept of God in ways that I look back on now and wonder why He didn't strike me dead on the spot.
This person needn't feel sorry for me. And I hope, if they come by and read this, they realize this isn't pointed at them in a harsh way. It's not...no, not at all. What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that none of us should try to pigeon hole another person's beliefs or lack of belief, to judge them by what they believe or what they don't. That I don't particularly like being lumped into the masses, assuming my religious beliefs aren't reality. Sure, there are a lot of fantatical Christians. There are a lot of fantatical agnostics. And fanatical atheists. It all boils down to which side of the mirror we're looking from. And from my side of the mirror the reflection of myself that peers back at me knows the Truth of what I believe in. Because, at the moment I began to believe, the changes in me were real. And what was 'old' passed away and never came back. Who I am now is not who I was then. Not even close. Not even in the same league. I am strong-willed and self-disciplined but I couldn't have carried this out for 32 years if it was based on fantasy. It would've been too much work, too much effort. And why put forth that much effort for something not 'real'? No...sorry. What I have isn't a hardship. It isn't work. It's my life and it's a wonderful life, a clean life. A good life. And, as I said in my comment to the blog's author, I feel very blessed to have it.