Losing My Religion..
Today, I had to go to the nearby temple, to collect some prasAdam (offering.. Think of the Hindu version of a Communion Wafer, just without the transubstantiation implications), since my uncle's busy with work. Considering I rarely go to a temple, I'd guess it had been months, if not years since I went inside a temple, as a non-tourist. Now this was a temple dedicated to Lord Ganesha, a favorite Hindu deity to many, just a couple of blocks away from home - a temple I used to visit every month, for the special celebration every month, as a kid, along with my family.
Returning to that particular temple after years was, to say the least, an interesting experience - a time for reflection, nostalgia and introspection.
It wasn't exactly unpleasant or a jarring experience, really, but quite mundane and matter of fact. I'm not sure why I expected something dramatic or powerful. I usually dread going to temples. If nothing else, it feel hypocritical and to an extent pointless. Sure, chalk it up to skepticism and atheism I guess..
In any case, the temple did bring back memories. Of being a happy kid who looked forward to the monthly temple visit, every couple of days after the full moon.Of getting lost amidst the throng of devotees in the temple - adults jostling for space, crowding around the sanctum sanctorum, craning in to get a look at the adorned idol. Memories of running around the sanctum sanctorum, part of the temple visit ritual, racing my cousins around. Of the various idols of assorted deities around the temple, inside the complex, reciting an individual prayer to each. Of solemnly praying to the various Gods and Goddesses, the nine planets ( none demoted to a planetoid status yet). My fondest memories, and one my family still teases me about, has me as a young kid, standing in line for the traditional curd rice offering, given to deities, eating the delicious food, washing my hands, and running back in line again, multiple times the same night. Sure, I was admonished for that, but hey.. It was fun, delicious and well.. rebellious.
I stood in the temple today, thinking back to the simpler times and smiled to myself. I still remember the times when faith came naturally. It wasn't something I thought about, or debated with. Atheism was unheard of, and belief in a Divine Power (or many) was just another facet of life. There was someone to thank for, when results were good, when good things happened, and someone to pray to, when things felt tough or difficult to face. There was that element of hope for an answer to the prayer, a belief in something beyond ourselves. If my parents told me there was a God, who was I to argue?
Somewhere along the way, it all changed. There's no one moment where I can look back at and say "This is where I lost faith". No big revelation or dramatic disappointment which changed it all. No drama, no unveiling of curtains. Nothing instantaneous. Doubt began creeping in gradually. I'm not sure to what or who I can credit/blame it upon. Scientific education in school? Scientific way of thinking? Of not accepting things without questioning? Non-traditional influences? George Carlin? Books and debates? None of the above? All of the above? I don't know. In any case, all I know is, gradually, I stopped believing.
It's not something I tend to dwell upon, really. It's not exactly a rebellious phase, an act of rebellion against the orthodox family or upbringing. Sure, I'm rebellious often, but with my family, I'm their almost-the-same believer kid. I tag along to the annual visit to the temple of the family deity. I go through the motions of daily prayer. It's not pretension. I really do recite the prayers. I do the prostration, the bowing, the genuflection - all the motions, but it's mostly mechanical, routine, precise. I'm reluctant to go to temples, and my family knows it, albeit with some disappointment and grudging acceptance. There's the occasional verbal prod and spiritual blackmail when a family member invites me to accompany them to a temple, but after a while, it gets shelved.
I don't think I can honestly claim to be atheist. I know I'm not a practicing Hindu (whatever THAT means). I go through the daily motions of religious rituals, prayer and minor rites. Even with the mechanical, almost mindless routine, there's a tiny part of me that believes. Or wants to believe. At the same time, a bigger chunk of me stands back, thinking dispassionately, rationally examining my thoughts, chastising the apparent hypocrisy, while trying to sort my feelings in this regard. It's almost a daily occurrence.
Am I an agnostic then? Maybe. In one sense of the term. I'm more accurately, a person who hasn't decided what I believe in. Blind faith isn't exactly my cup of tea. Belief/Faith in something/someone isn't something that comes to me easily. So, no. I doubt I'm a faithful devotee/believer. At the same time, I can't bring myself to admit that I am a militant atheist, vehemently denying the existence of God, putting down others for their beliefs.
Sure, a huge part of me doesn't believe. I've admired Dawkins and Carlin for long, and I don't believe in organized religion. I'm pretty cynical about them, and don't miss many opportunities to let my feelings in that regard known. I personally am more interested in Eastern philosophies, with religions emphasizing on spiritual development, rather than kowtowing to an Omnipotent Passive-Aggressive Entity(ies). Then again, another huge chunk of me is existential nihilist, believing in a lack of Destiny or a Greater Purpose to Life, thereby disbelieving in Divinity and religion, faith and spirituality. For some reason, the idea of randomness and probabilistically minute occurrence of our existence (aka a Divine Miracle to the believers), without a greater purpose to existence, is comforting to me. Without the concepts of Higher Powers, afterlife or reincarnation, no powers to worship or look up to, no judges, no hidden meaning - it's a relief. To me anyway. I won't deny it - it's very brutally bare, unaccepting of miracles, pessimistic and all too real, without the mysticism.
Today at the temple, while waiting for the priest to hand me the packets of offering, to take home, I look around, after the required traditional rituals, at the other devotees in the temple. I see the faith and devotion in their eyes and body language, the love and respect for the deities in their behavior, the joy in some eyes when they look at the idols, and I wonder idly, without emotion, if I'm missing a lot. Maybe missing that feeling of belonging to a collective consciousness, a subconscious mental-emotional network of people feeling the same devotion and faith about one entity - a joy and elation transcending other issues? Maybe I am missing out on the simple joys of believing in something, of having hope, no matter how unrealistic or illogical.
I don't know, honestly. It makes some sense, but it's not convincing. Besides, for a mostly rationally thinking person, how can I convince myself into faith? Then again, isn't faith, by definition, independent of reasoning and proof? Isn't faith supposed to be instinctual and deeply rooted in our belief system, standing up to any contrary reasoning, to a point of indulging in active denial? In any case, I'm not sure what I believe in, right now. I'm not 100% committed to any one belief system, be it active faith, atheism, agnosticism, nihilism or even Pastafarianism.
So, what can I expect next? Frustration or a powerful jolt of rational reasoning, leading to full-blown atheism? Or some life-altering event, which will force me to re-evaluate my belief system and convince me to believe in a Higher Power? Or more probably, status quo, with me questioning and evaluating my beliefs every day?
In the end, does it really matter? Then again, does anything matter? Again, that's another thing that's a matter of faith!
Returning to that particular temple after years was, to say the least, an interesting experience - a time for reflection, nostalgia and introspection.
It wasn't exactly unpleasant or a jarring experience, really, but quite mundane and matter of fact. I'm not sure why I expected something dramatic or powerful. I usually dread going to temples. If nothing else, it feel hypocritical and to an extent pointless. Sure, chalk it up to skepticism and atheism I guess..
In any case, the temple did bring back memories. Of being a happy kid who looked forward to the monthly temple visit, every couple of days after the full moon.Of getting lost amidst the throng of devotees in the temple - adults jostling for space, crowding around the sanctum sanctorum, craning in to get a look at the adorned idol. Memories of running around the sanctum sanctorum, part of the temple visit ritual, racing my cousins around. Of the various idols of assorted deities around the temple, inside the complex, reciting an individual prayer to each. Of solemnly praying to the various Gods and Goddesses, the nine planets ( none demoted to a planetoid status yet). My fondest memories, and one my family still teases me about, has me as a young kid, standing in line for the traditional curd rice offering, given to deities, eating the delicious food, washing my hands, and running back in line again, multiple times the same night. Sure, I was admonished for that, but hey.. It was fun, delicious and well.. rebellious.
I stood in the temple today, thinking back to the simpler times and smiled to myself. I still remember the times when faith came naturally. It wasn't something I thought about, or debated with. Atheism was unheard of, and belief in a Divine Power (or many) was just another facet of life. There was someone to thank for, when results were good, when good things happened, and someone to pray to, when things felt tough or difficult to face. There was that element of hope for an answer to the prayer, a belief in something beyond ourselves. If my parents told me there was a God, who was I to argue?
Somewhere along the way, it all changed. There's no one moment where I can look back at and say "This is where I lost faith". No big revelation or dramatic disappointment which changed it all. No drama, no unveiling of curtains. Nothing instantaneous. Doubt began creeping in gradually. I'm not sure to what or who I can credit/blame it upon. Scientific education in school? Scientific way of thinking? Of not accepting things without questioning? Non-traditional influences? George Carlin? Books and debates? None of the above? All of the above? I don't know. In any case, all I know is, gradually, I stopped believing.
It's not something I tend to dwell upon, really. It's not exactly a rebellious phase, an act of rebellion against the orthodox family or upbringing. Sure, I'm rebellious often, but with my family, I'm their almost-the-same believer kid. I tag along to the annual visit to the temple of the family deity. I go through the motions of daily prayer. It's not pretension. I really do recite the prayers. I do the prostration, the bowing, the genuflection - all the motions, but it's mostly mechanical, routine, precise. I'm reluctant to go to temples, and my family knows it, albeit with some disappointment and grudging acceptance. There's the occasional verbal prod and spiritual blackmail when a family member invites me to accompany them to a temple, but after a while, it gets shelved.
I don't think I can honestly claim to be atheist. I know I'm not a practicing Hindu (whatever THAT means). I go through the daily motions of religious rituals, prayer and minor rites. Even with the mechanical, almost mindless routine, there's a tiny part of me that believes. Or wants to believe. At the same time, a bigger chunk of me stands back, thinking dispassionately, rationally examining my thoughts, chastising the apparent hypocrisy, while trying to sort my feelings in this regard. It's almost a daily occurrence.
Am I an agnostic then? Maybe. In one sense of the term. I'm more accurately, a person who hasn't decided what I believe in. Blind faith isn't exactly my cup of tea. Belief/Faith in something/someone isn't something that comes to me easily. So, no. I doubt I'm a faithful devotee/believer. At the same time, I can't bring myself to admit that I am a militant atheist, vehemently denying the existence of God, putting down others for their beliefs.
Sure, a huge part of me doesn't believe. I've admired Dawkins and Carlin for long, and I don't believe in organized religion. I'm pretty cynical about them, and don't miss many opportunities to let my feelings in that regard known. I personally am more interested in Eastern philosophies, with religions emphasizing on spiritual development, rather than kowtowing to an Omnipotent Passive-Aggressive Entity(ies). Then again, another huge chunk of me is existential nihilist, believing in a lack of Destiny or a Greater Purpose to Life, thereby disbelieving in Divinity and religion, faith and spirituality. For some reason, the idea of randomness and probabilistically minute occurrence of our existence (aka a Divine Miracle to the believers), without a greater purpose to existence, is comforting to me. Without the concepts of Higher Powers, afterlife or reincarnation, no powers to worship or look up to, no judges, no hidden meaning - it's a relief. To me anyway. I won't deny it - it's very brutally bare, unaccepting of miracles, pessimistic and all too real, without the mysticism.
Today at the temple, while waiting for the priest to hand me the packets of offering, to take home, I look around, after the required traditional rituals, at the other devotees in the temple. I see the faith and devotion in their eyes and body language, the love and respect for the deities in their behavior, the joy in some eyes when they look at the idols, and I wonder idly, without emotion, if I'm missing a lot. Maybe missing that feeling of belonging to a collective consciousness, a subconscious mental-emotional network of people feeling the same devotion and faith about one entity - a joy and elation transcending other issues? Maybe I am missing out on the simple joys of believing in something, of having hope, no matter how unrealistic or illogical.
I don't know, honestly. It makes some sense, but it's not convincing. Besides, for a mostly rationally thinking person, how can I convince myself into faith? Then again, isn't faith, by definition, independent of reasoning and proof? Isn't faith supposed to be instinctual and deeply rooted in our belief system, standing up to any contrary reasoning, to a point of indulging in active denial? In any case, I'm not sure what I believe in, right now. I'm not 100% committed to any one belief system, be it active faith, atheism, agnosticism, nihilism or even Pastafarianism.
So, what can I expect next? Frustration or a powerful jolt of rational reasoning, leading to full-blown atheism? Or some life-altering event, which will force me to re-evaluate my belief system and convince me to believe in a Higher Power? Or more probably, status quo, with me questioning and evaluating my beliefs every day?
In the end, does it really matter? Then again, does anything matter? Again, that's another thing that's a matter of faith!