It seems to me that organized creeds are collections of words around a wish. I feel no need for such… It is simply not for me. Somebody else may have my rapturous glance at the archangels. The springing of the yellow line of morning out of the misty deep of dawn, is glory enough for me. I know that nothing is destructible; things merely change forms. When the consciousness we know as life ceases, I know that I shall still be part and parcel of the world. I was a part before the sun rolled into shape and burst forth in the glory of change. I was, when the earth was hurled out from its fiery rim. I shall return with the earth to Father Sun, and still exist in substance when the sun has lost its fire, and disintegrated into infinity to perhaps become a part of the whirling rubble of space. Why fear? The stuff of my being is matter, ever changing, ever moving, but never lost; so what need of denominations and creeds to deny myself the comfort of all my fellow men? The wide belt of the universe has no need for finger-rings. I am one with the infinite and need no other assurance. — Zora Neale Hurston

Ever since I stopped being a Christian, it has seemed as if Christians think I’m “in a phase.” I’ve come across this occuring in the lives of many other atheists I know, as well. People tell them, “I understand you’re going through a phase,” or “you seem like you’re still trying to figure things out,”or something similar.

I’ve been wondering why, exactly, that is, because I don’t really think I’m going through a phase. I feel like what I’m doing is a bit more permanent than that.

Of course, one possibility is that Christians are intending to be patronizing, and some probably are. But I haven’t been able to shake the sentiment that there is something added there, because some of the people who have said that have been very close to me and were probably not intending to hurt me; they probably just didn’t understand where I was coming from.

The problem, I think, is that the myth of Christianity encourages a kind of stasis and confidence and insulation. Regardless of the evidence that comes to you, you have to hold on to it. You’re not supposed to let go. Jesus is who you are looking for, and doubt of your beliefs that comes in the face of evidence is something to overcome as opposed to something to explore. Or, at least, that was my experience, as a Christian who tended to ask “too many” questions and be too inquisitive (some doubt was fine, I was told…but after a few years, Christians increasingly told me I kinda overdid it).

I think most Christians think that what it means to “find yourself” is to have a home base and confidence that is constant. No matter what comes your way, you’ll hold on to it. You’ve found what you’re looking for, and you’re not moving.

So when they see someone on the outside of Christianity asking questions, doing investigations, changing their mind according to the evidence, and so on, they tend to think that the person is looking for the same certainty the typical Christian has, and may eventually come back to it.

Thus, the reason they think we atheists are in a “phase” is because many (though not all) of us tend to be skeptical, we tend to change our minds based on the evidence presented to us, and we tend to be more open to being wrong. We don’t hold as many of our views with as much certainty as we did when we were a Christians or part of another religion.

To a Christian, this looks like we’re lost and searching for something, like we’re always in transition. But it doesn’t feel that way on the inside. I don’t feel like I’m lost and searching, so much as I feel like I’ve found something and am exploring. For years I was in a bubble of religious myths, and now that I’ve broken out of it, I’m in a fascinating relationship with reality. Before I would see doubting as a detriment; now I tend to see it as an asset, as something that happens naturally when I look at evidence. Before I tried to have faith, and now — I just let go of faith and try to make decisions based on what there is evidence for. Before, I was hesitant to change my mind if the change seemed to differ from what God’s Word or Christendom in general seemed to proclaim. Now, if there is strong evidence that I’m wrong, I have the freedom to change my mind. And I don’t intend to go back to the bubble; the exploration has led me far beyond it.

In many ways, this life seems a lot more solid than the life I had as a Christian, when I was reaching for meaning in a story that seemed fantastic and seemed to fly in the face of evidence and common sense. Logic, reason, evidence, and empathy in regards to beings who much more clearly exist seems to be an all-around more naturally confident basis to live my life on. I’m not exploring a bubble of myth anymore, and my world feels much more real because of that. I’m exploring reality.

It’s not a phase. It’s a relationship with existence. And I love existence, deeply and beautifully and, for all I can see, permanently. It’s not a temporary phase, this ever-deepening relationship with what actually exists behind the veil of myth. It’s a lifelong relationship with reality.

It’s beautiful. Really. I know it’s not like this for everyone, but when I left religion, the world around me seemed so much more…real. Sometimes I just step back, look at all of existence, and smile. Music feels more alive, nature is more exhilarating, cosmology is so much more fascinating than before, when I had to fit these items in a box labeled “religion.” People are so much more easy to relate to now that I don’t have to fit them in some prepackaged theology. It is exciting to discover something new every day. It is exhilerating to find out I was wrong yesterday because of new evidence — to realize I don’t have to cling irrationally to faith. It is awesome to explore the universe, constructing theories and testing them and looking the results of others who have done the same. I’m not searching for the faith of religion; I’m done with that. What I’m doing now, this exploration of the real world, is way too exciting too abandon.

I’m not saying things are perfect. There is pain and suffering in the world. But what I like about the stance I have is that I don’t have to pretend that a myth solves the problem. A commitment to logic, evidence, and empathy ensures that I ease situations with solutions that are proven and tested and actually work. Far more satisfying than a simple “I’ll pray for you,” similar to the way that a physician is more satisfying than a pastor in a hospital.

I could definitely live the rest of my life like this until my deathbed…there’s something deeply satisfying about knowing the body you have will break down and forever be integrated with the reality you are part of here and now….

So, in short, I guess what I’m saying is that no, this is not a phase; I’m in a permanent lifelong relationship with reality….the whole universe is in front of me…and I’m part of it…as Neil Degrasse Tyson put it, I am a manifestation of the universe looking at itself…

[Image Credit: Lauro Roger McAllister under Creative Commons License]

And it’s awesome.

Thanks for reading.