Not worrying isn’t easy. Either, you have to be enlightened or delusional. I don’t know which one I am, and I won’t worry about it. It’s just the way it is.
For many people, so I understand, this is a very defeatist stance. People who have given up don’t have to worry anymore. All of their fears have already manifested in the real world. They have nothing to lose, so why not just drop the bomb and get it over with. Their world has ended, because everything they held dear was washed away. There is no more salvation, no redemption, the last day is over, the verdict is out.
There are few things in my life where I can pinpoint the origin of a development in my life, but my fall from faith started at a very specific point. It started about eight and a half years ago, when the blood in my veins started clotting, and the clots became embolisms that made their way to my lungs; eight and a half years ago, when I nearly died.
Saying that was the origin doesn’t mean that with that instant, I stopped believing in God. I tried to make sense of that event in a religious manner. Like Job, I thought God was testing me. I thought I was being punished, for causing grief to my parents, for getting in trouble, for getting drunk and taking drugs, for being a spoiled brat, for seeking the favor of my peers by bullying former friends, who held no favor with these people. Yes, I did that, and even though I don’t believe my sickness was divine punishment, I am quite ashamed of my behavior. I had also been a blasphemer. Well, in the eyes of my brother, I still am, because I am an atheist. My brother is often full of himself, and even more often full of shit; I digress.
I also can’t credit myself entirely for seeing the light – or, more precisely, to avert my gaze from the light. If we are surrounded by darkness, isn’t it the light that blinds us? Well, it is exactly with these metaphors that I was enthralled by belief in divine principles. Ultimately, they are not helpful. They make nothing clear; on the contrary, they tend to fog things up. But I shall continue using them, together with very ominous analogies, because I learned this language, and it is still the only way that I know how to express myself about these changes, in lack of a clear-cut terminology.
There are many people I could credit for helping me with this transformation, but I can’t think of anyone more beneficial to me than my best friend. In many ,very often drug-induced, discussions, we argued about the nature of the divine. When I say nature, I mean it in the strictest scientific sense: its characteristics, its effects, its manifestations, or, to be precise, the lack thereof. There simply is no scientific basis upon which to argue for the existence of anything we would call super-natural; there are, however, more than plausible explanations for the illusion or delusion of divinity, which word you wish to use depends on how you want to go about the phenomenon. It’s not even necessarily a matter of personal preference, but often enough which group of people you are talking about; but as the Dude would say:” That’s, like, your opinion”. I digress.
When God disappeared in a little cloud of logic, so did my worries. I started moving forward, instead of looking back. Well, I never really stopped looking back, but you know how it is with metaphors. Also, I do still worry, about little things; nothing that will hold me back, really. It’s about the bigger picture, and that’s where metaphors, analogies and references are useful, because often, the shore is behind the wall of fog, and you must dive through it to get to the shore, so, for the capo da fine, I will return to the title subject.
For me, not worrying is the salvation. My redemption is in nobody else’s discretion than my own. My fears are washed away, and what I hold dear is manifesting in front of me. My world is beginning, and it is up to me to decide what to do with it. I had given up, but then I stopped worrying and started doing.