I've posted this before, but I liked it enough to post it again --Julie
As a child, I had a dream that terrified me. It was me, in a bubble, smiling and happy, an imbecile, without a care in the world. This dream has stayed with me throughout my life.
It wasn't until close to a decade later that I realized that this was what a lot of people think of when they think of Heaven. Personally, I've grown to think of heaven as something entirely different, but I've never known quite what that means. Now I'm thinking that it's just a word without meaning; a nice story people tell one another to make their lives down here seem better.
For most of my life, I've consistently believed that it wasn't complicated to believe in science while still holding strong religious beliefs.
I'm not convinced that this is wrong, but I no longer hold it as being something so easy and comfortable to do.
Don't get me wrong: I love the idea of religion. I love the idea of afterlife. I love the idea of having someplace to go when this world is done, or even the idea of returning to this world in a different form, of having a soul which continues on.
But really, I just don't see it that way any longer.
I think I need to begin this with a story.
Years ago, a dear friend of mine died without warning or explanation. I got word that Christine had died just before I was about to teach, and I sort of just put it aside in my head at that moment, not knowing what to do with it. I hadn't seen Christine for a couple years, but she was someone I'd always admired and we'd shared a strong friendship for a time when I'd lived in Rhode Island.
But for the next week or so, something odd happened: I'd just be doing something normal, like washing dishes or pulling out of the driveway, and I'd hear her voice. She never said anything profound like "it's so beautiful here" or "don't feel bad; I'm in a better place now." It was mostly little funny sarcastic comments, like "that was clever" right after I'd dropped something or done something silly. I can't remember exactly, but I think when I was pulling out of the driveway she said something like "try not to run anything over."
But here's the funny thing: this was incredibly comforting to me. To have heard her speak as though she weren't here, as though she were transformed into some other kind of creature would have made me feel distant from her, and afraid. Instead, I felt comforted and like she would always be with me in some way or another.
It's never happened since. But, more recently, at the funeral of Susan, someone I didn't know so well, I was convinced, for just a moment, that she (Susan, not Christine) was walking in the crowd.
When Christine first died, I attributed this to her, her spirit, her afterlife, etc.
Now I think I just attribute it to my psyche. It's not that I think there's no afterlife. I just don't know, but I do know that there's a brain and it's a brain which can do some incredibly complicated things. So, for me, I created an auditory hallucination in order to get through my grief. I don't think anyone did this for me, and I don't think anyone created the situation for me. I think I just needed to hear her voice for a bit, which helped me move on. I wasn't as close to Susan. When I saw her at the memorial service, just for that moment, it was enough for me.
And it's funny-- with pets that have died, I still see them from time to time. Or I wake up and think that Phoebe, tortoise shell cat of great affection, is brushing against me. But those are dreams, and I understand that better than I sometimes wish I did. Animals haunt me in ways that humans don't, probably because I'm complicit in their deaths. Even as an act of mercy, every pet we've ever owned who's died is one I had to pay someone to kill. I'm not sorry I did it-- I know it was the right thing to do, but it still haunts me in its own way. But really, I believe they're gone, living on in remnants of memories that will die with those who knew them and that will be it.
I want to be clear: I'm not writing this to deny or denigrate anyone's beliefs. I'm a bit jealous of people who can believe things that logically make no sense. I can do this too, but I can only seem to do it in the context of suspended disbelief, just as I can watch a science fiction movie and totally believe the entire movie while it's happening while still knowing it's not literally true.
I can believe in religious stories and tales as a matter of the story, but I can't find myself thinking they actually happened in the way they're presented. At best, I find myself thinking, "it's possible." I even love some of those stories, and I can believe in them without believing them.
I had a conversation with a friend a few years ago about the ideas of life continuing after we're gone. We'd been reading a text about reincarnation; the premise was that we have a soul that continues on from life to life and that it is drawn towards other souls, and that we tend to re-encounter the same people in different forms throughout the ages and throughout our experiences, working out the same issues over and over again.
I resisted this idea, and in arguing with her back and forth about it, I figured out why:
It doesn't matter. Whether this life is the only chance we've got, or one of millions, doesn't matter because the only thing we can control right here and now is what we are doing in the life we're in and how we're going to handle it. It's not that I resist the idea of reincarnation; it's that I find it a distraction, an irrelevancy.
So maybe I'm making too much about this thing about religion and beliefs, etc. Maybe it's because so much of what I've done has been in what I think of as service to the greater good, which is so often coupled with religion. But at the same time, I find myself thinking, what does it matter?
If I am going to live in this world, why should I not do good works? If I am going to live in this world, why should I not treat this as my one and only chance to be doing the right thing as best as I can?
Why should I even worry about what comes next, if I know I am doing what I can to make things better here? Is that spiritual, even if I don't know what "spirit" means?
I just don't know what I believe any longer, except for this:
I believe that whatever comes next, my obligation is here. I believe that whatever comes after this life (if anything) is something I need to set aside so I can worry about what's going on here and now.
I believe in hope, not because of heaven, god or angels. I believe in hope because, despite it all, ordinary people sometimes just do the right thing.
That's what I believe.
How about you?
7:50 PM PT: Hey all- thanks for all the comments. I was out photographing fireworks so I wasn't around to respond. Now I'm tired (and tomorrow's a work day) so I still won't be around to respond. Sorry about that, but the conversation I'm seeing in here is fantastic, so keep it up.
G'nite everyone.