My journey into atheism
 

I would consider this a story, because it's a story about me becoming an atheist. I wrote it for my Honors English Composition I class earlier this semester. Enjoy :D and comments are most definitely welcome.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, I didn't quite realize the conversation would turn to the subject of me being atheist. But it did. I sat in my parents room, on their comfortable bed with the soft comforter draping across it. They were sitting in their respective chairs as usual, looking at me with respect, dignity, and pride, like they always did. The atmosphere was casual, and I felt no fear here, in the presence of my guides through life. The smell was of cigarettes, as it always was, and while I was revolted, I felt a slight comfort because of the familiarity, and the fact that I was close enough to them to smell the acrid smoke reminded me that I was close to their loving presence. I was talking to them about my brother. He had been feeling upset lately, because our aunt had been hassling him through his Facebook account online, and consequently me as well. This angered me, and upset him, and I told my parents about it. Currently, we were discussing why my brother Brandon had been upset. I told them that our aunt had not liked the things we did on Facebook, nor the information we provided on our Facebook profiles, for instance the fact that Brandon and I use a copious amount of swear words while on Facebook. They didn't understand why she would get upset by this, because they know it's just a website created for entertainment purposes and not for other people to criticize you for doing something they do not approve of. I agreed. I also told them that there was something else. On my Facebook profile, it openly states that I am an atheist.

This was the moment. I had never really told them directly about my atheism, although I'm sure they knew that I was different in my beliefs. I never really felt the need to tell them, because I felt that no matter what they said, I would do what I pleased, although I did hope for their approval. I took a deep breath. The familiar atmosphere comforted and guided me, making it all the more easier to spit out the words which I needed to say. I told them I was atheist and that I didn't believe in God. I felt a drop of terror slide down my back, even though their looks did not contain contempt or disapproval. I continued to tell them the rest of the story. I told them that my aunt did not like that I was an atheist, and she had told me it embarrassed her that her nephew was atheist and openly declared it on Facebook for “the world to see.” My parents thought the fact that she was angry and embarrassed by it was ridiculous, and it was no reason to harass me or my brother on Facebook. They agreed that she was being irrational. We continued in the conversation.

They did not criticize me. I felt extremely relieved by this, and the stress and worries of 5 years of not being open about my non-belief was lifted off of my shoulders. The drop of terror on my back disappeared, and the cold claw of fear which gripped my neck loosened. I now felt that I was truly free in choosing to be atheist, and that truly no one could tell me what to do. My mother was particularly comforting, saying that she didn't care what I believed or did not believe, and she would always love me no matter what. My father was hesitant to believe that I “believed in nothing”, but he agreed with my mother in that he would love me no matter what, but thought that, with time, I would think it through it more and perhaps change my beliefs. They said they supported me in whatever I would do, and would not love me any less for anything I ever said or did. I was strengthened, felt a new breath of fresh air enter my lungs and my being, and I was secure in my non-belief. The terror which gripped me before was a silly thing of the past, and this new breath of air was like a ray of the sun, lighting up the path for me and dispelling the ill feelings I had at first. Talking to them about my atheism reminded me of the time six years ago when I first decided I was an atheist.

The room was usually stagnant and silent, save for the click of the computer mouse, and the tap-tapping on the keyboard which periodically broke the still air. The darkness was shattered by the sharp, luminescent computer screen. The temperature was usually acceptable, not too hot, not too cold, but the imposing darkness lent an aura of chilly disconcert. An entire wall of the room was mirrors, reciprocating the dark room. All about the computer desk was a fine layer of junk: various CD cases, food wrappers, cups, paper. In the office chair, occupying the space in front of the computer for long stretches of time, was me. It was the summer of 2003, and I was fresh out of my sixth grade year, on the cusp of adolescence. I hadn't even begun to really think about what I wanted from life. I just wanted to survive school, and more importantly, to have fun and hang out with friends. Recently, I had discovered the internet. I would search for long hours in that dark room with the mirrored wall, looking for intriguing things, learning all the time. I eventually came upon a particular website which hosted a forum, also known as a message or bulletin board; an online discussion group where members can discuss a wide variety of topics. This forum was about comic books, and I checked and read the site daily.

I had discovered this website about two months prior and had been slowly edging my way into the general conversation. This is one of the first experiences I had with being an observer, rather than an active participant, a behavior which would evolve into something else over time. One of the frequent members of this forum interested me quite a lot. She was several years older than I, and she had connections with the certain comic book we were discussing, and she was looked upon as a sort of celebrity around the boards. She was also the cause of much controversy, for she was an open and avid atheist. This intrigued me, for I had no idea what an atheist was. Sure, I had heard the term before, but I had dismissed it as some piece of information I did not need. And surely enough, when the issue was brought up on the forum, I did not delve further, and was only interested in the swarm of activity surrounding said issue. It was only when there came calls of blasphemy and treachery to God did I decide to research the topic more.

Once again, the internet heeded my call when I asked for its knowledge. The vast cache of knowledge was enticing, and I delved into it as I had many times before, and the familiarity and sense of adventure guided me. I asked questions, and the internet answered. What was an atheist? From the very root of the word itself, we get theist – one who believes. The prefix “a” means non- or without-. Thus, an atheist is one who does not believe, or one without beliefs. More specifically, the term today is applied to one who does not believe in God or Gods, nor do they follow any particular religion, denomination, sect, or any other religious group.

This seemingly simple piece of information baffled me. Not believing in God? Didn't everyone? I soon found out, no, not everyone believes in God, nor does everyone even belong to a specific religion. How could this be? And why had such an unusual and huge issue gone unnoticed by me for so long? I had so many questions. I returned to the treasure hoard to explore more thoroughly, and I found within the piles delicious morsels of information. I discovered articles on atheism, which I devoured with an insatiable hunger for the knowledge. I watched videos on the subject voraciously. I read debates about atheism and savored them like a treat. All of these morsels, I noticed how sweet and satisfying this knowledge was. After the feast of knowledge, I thought about my own beliefs, and what I had experienced religiously up to that point.

Our family had never been very religious. As far back as I can remember, we had gone to church, and were mildly involved in church activities. I went to daycare at a church-sponsored program. Around age seven or eight, we stopped going to church. I later learned that the reason was because of disputes between my mother and various church members; for some reason, they didn't like her, nor our family. This angered my father, and we stopped going to church altogether. They assured us that this was not because they did not want to be Christians anymore, they just felt that arguing and contempt were not appropriate within the church, nor was it part of the values that they wanted to instill in us, so we stopped attending. My parents still believed in God, and read the Bible, and believed things they learned from it, and they taught us things which they wanted us to learn, things which we might have learned from church, but they took it into their own hands instead. During this part of my life, I assume I believed in God, but I did not really feel the need to pray or follow any particular sacraments or anything like that. I just believed I guess. I participated in religious holidays, Easter, Christmas, all of that, but I was not an active participant in worshiping. Things went on in this manner until the eventful day, or rather several days, when I discovered atheism, and the feast of knowledge had commenced.

What if I didn't believe? I seldom prayed, and when I did, I felt no satisfaction or fulfillment other than the kind of satisfaction you get once you finish some task or assignment, and it's over with, and you feel free to do whatever you want. This is the kind of satisfaction I received after praying, not a religious or spiritual fulfillment, not the fulfillment I assumed one would feel, nor the fulfillment I heard so much about at church, or when my parents or relatives talked about it. I didn't feel like God interfered, nor acted much in my life, and I didn't feel his presence, nor Jesus', Allah's, Buddha's, or whatever's presence. I did not notice, and a small voice in my brain thought “maybe it will happen later in life, maybe I'll notice it eventually.” As life went on, I didn't notice, or care much anymore.

The discovery of atheism triggered the thought of my non-belief. The feast of knowledge expanded my view on the subject, and gave me everything that I needed to know. The lack of my activity with God and with the church was prevalent, and I decided I needed to do something about it. I decided to think.

The room which I sought when I needed to think was my old bedroom. This was my sanctuary. All light was blocked from entering, creating a blackness, not quite the same darkness as the computer room, but rather a comforting blackness. The dark enveloped me, caressed me, and I could feel at ease. I would lay in my bed, eyes staring into the abyss. The walls surrounding me were not only boundaries, but a portal of my mind, a place to display my thoughts for examination. I did this often. There was the same layer of junk as in the computer room, only on a magnified scale; socks strewn about, books here and there, video games. Within this deep darkness, I dwelt. The familiar smell of my room – the cottony smell of my blanket, the smell of wood from my cabinet, the cold tang of metal from my side table – reminded me that I was not lost in the darkness. The smoothness of the bed helped to anchor me to reality as well. Within this limbo between reality and the abyss, I brought out the morsels of information I had devoured, and I dissected and examined them. I applied them to my own life, and I found many startling parallels. I thought and re-thought about atheism. The feast of knowledge had supplied me with the base, and I was building upon the base with my own life. The darkness beckoned me on, it let me reflect my thoughts, and it all made sense in that room. I was an atheist.

I began to feel terrified. Since I chose to be an atheist, would anyone love me anymore? Everyone always said God is the best thing in life, God was the only way life was worth anything. If I didn't believe, what would they think? That I was worthless? Would I be disowned? I didn't know what would happen. It made me very sad, very scared, and I felt very alienated. I was depressed for several, several days. I, of course, wanted attention and help with this issue, so I moped around and acted depressed, didn't talk much, didn't eat much, “slept” a lot – once again, the abyss welcomed me to think within its folds of darkness.

I finally decided I was atheist, and overcame the fear of rejection. I didn't believe in Christianity's God. I also explored other religions, such as Buddhism, Shintoism, and even looked into Judaism, but none of these appealed to me. I also looked into Wicca, but once again, the appeal was low. I read The Satanic Bible by Anton LaVey, and the philosophy aspect of Satanism appealed to me greatly, but the religious magic aspect of it deterred me. I decided that Satanism was for attention-seeking rebellious people in the main part, and for ignorant fools seeking to worship the devil in the other part. I took parts of the philosophy I agreed with and incorporated it into my personal beliefs, but left the religion behind altogether. In the end, my religious searches fruitless, I decided that not only was God not right for me, but religion in general is not something I want, nor need in my life.

I felt no spiritual or religious difference once I consciously made the decision to reject religion, which only enforced my belief that there wasn't a God. Nothing of spiritual or religious significance happened, as it hadn't before, yet now it made sense. Now, I knew that there wasn't anything spiritual there, nothing would happen, no spiritual presence would be there to guide me. I felt a little dismayed at this, and I sometimes feel like this every once in a while, but I would later realize that I had been alone all my life, and this was only my enlightenment to the fact of such. The enlightenment made the darkness in my room seem all the more brighter, and my path, while still dim, was a bit brighter now that I knew I did not need religion. I was able to feel the light from inside me, because I knew that I was free to choose to do what I please. The ray of light grew brighter every day, and with every hardship I faced, the path became clearer. Some people say that they see the light, and God is there waiting to embrace them. When I saw my light, I saw myself, walking on the path, and I was happy.

I continued my life in the way I had always done, aside from a few important exceptions. I felt that I did things for myself, no longer under the assumption that God was there watching me, or that I existed to please him, or my actions were to only praise him. I no longer participated in prayer, sometimes in fear that someone would notice, but no one did. I only said “amen” at the end of prayers as part mockery, part an exultation to myself, me telling myself I'm different, I did not have their religion or spirituality. Amen strengthened my light, amen let me continue without fear, amen lent confidence to myself as I walked among the swarm of believers.

I did not say “Under God” in the pledge of allegiance after my decision to be atheist and to reject religion, and eventually I quit saying the whole pledge altogether. I almost got a detention for not saying it at school one day. The teacher noticed me not saying the pledge, and asked why not. I told her I chose not to. She said I could receive a detention for not doing this, and that I should rethink my choice. I thought about it and I realized I was protesting in the wrong way, and that the pledge of allegiance was said out of respect and duty to our country, not to proclaim the spirituality of the nation. I instead returned to leaving out the “under God” part, and said the rest with as much respect, dignity, and duty as anyone. Even though no one may notice that I do not say that part in the pledge, it still reinforces my decision, and I feel the light of myself when I am silent.

I created a new vision of life, and a new end goal – to do what I want. I felt then, as I do now, that without the restrictions, or as I visualize them, chains, of religion, that I was more free to do things I loved, to do things that pleased me, free of guilt, free of hesitation, and with a sense of zealous satisfaction. I also felt that, with all sense of history and ideas I had about the time before I was alive wiped from my slate, I was able to view things unbiasedly, more clearly, from a purely intellectual standpoint. There were no longer stories which may or may not be true, no longer questions as to proof. With science and real history, I had no questions, because there was proof, there were concrete facts which I could reference and could relate to other things. In the end, I believe this helped me learn to learn, it helped formed my view of education, my view of how to acquire information, and I began to learn things quickly, and retain quite a lot of information. As time went on, I began doing this more and more subconsciously, more and more quickly, and with less effort. I learned things with a zealous, voracious eagerness, and it brightened my light, which allowed me to see myself more clearly. The knowledge helped me down the path.

Without the restraints of religion, no one could tell me what to think, how to feel, what to value, whom I was to hang out with, whom I was to seek as a partner in life, how I was to behave in certain situations. I now decided all of these things myself, and my intellectual and psychological infrastructure, the “net” of my personality, as I called it, was built upon things I valued, I believed, I loved, things which only I decided upon, not any other. The beauty of my net is that it always shifts and grows, without restrictions or chains, as I now feel that religion can restrain your thoughts, your beliefs, your feelings, your actions. The net flows, as it is made of light, and it brightens up the path, with all its knowledge and power. The net is what is inside me, the net shapes me, as I shape it. The light of the net makes me comfortable in the darkness.

I may have borrowed or learned things from Christianity, or other religions, but I changed them where I saw fit, and made them mine, and I owned them. People think that just because someone is an atheist, they want to murder people, they want to steal, they want to lie, they want to make this world a worse place. Those people are wrong. I believe in the traditional concepts, such as don't kill, don't steal, don't lie, and to honor your mother and father. I take things from Buddhism, such as respect for life and the concept of karma. I take things from Wicca and witchcraft, such as respect for nature and the beauty of it all. I take things from LaVeyan Satanism, such as indulging instead of abstaining, the pursuit of undefiled wisdom, keeping your opinion to yourself unless asked, and opposition to harming young children or animals. These are a small amount of things which I take from religion, yet there are many more, and many more which I reject.

This choice to be atheist, and in general to reject any religion, I believe is the single most important event in my life. Without this choice, I can't even imagine what my life would be like, nor which person I would be and how I would act or think. I would be someone completely different, and the person I currently am would look upon this other person I am not, and surely feel sorry for him, because he is not as free as I, and maybe not as happy or satisfied with his life as I. This choice has not only formed who I am, but this choice is who I am.