It happened again, as it so often does. I listened to music that caused me to tear-up. And again, this time, it was a Cat Stevens piece, among others. Surprisingly, though, it started with Cast Your Fate to the Wind. It happens.
I met a friend for drinks last night. For reasons that remain a mystery to me, I was in a "spiritual" mood, i.e., I could not keep my emotions in check. Everything I thought of, spoke of, heard, or thought about, brought me to the edge of tears. I do not like that. Not only because it's not "manly," but because it suggests a level of weakness I find disdainful. I do not find tears in men disdainful, as a rule, but I find whimpering, simpering, uncontrolled sobbing unappealing. Not only in men, either. Yet that's what I sometimes deal with. It IS embarrassing. My friend said I should not be embarrassed by it; easier to say than to accept.
This same friend wishes, deeply, for me to see the error of my ways and to embrace Jesus Christ as my Savior. That will not happen. She says she will pray for me...for it...and that she hopes I will embrace religion for what it is for her. No, I tell her. That will not happen. While I appreciate that religion can provide a needed support for many, it will not provide that for me. Because I find the premise absurd. I do not believe in fairies. I do not believe in magic. I do not believe in a supreme being. She listens quietly and responds that it's not magic. It's "faith" that I lack, she says. I simply do not acknowledge that there are powers beyond my comprehension, she suggests. Poor me. No, I do not acknowledge such things. Poor her. It is embarrassing to me that people who are otherwise rational still cling to beliefs that I find such absurd bullshit.
I should not be embarrassed, though, any more than I should be embarrassed by my tears.
Yet still she prays. I cannot help but appreciate her fruitless efforts. They are genuine expressions of hope that I, too, will accept her fantasy of an everlasting life. If it weren't so utterly absurd and fanciful, I would appreciate it more. But it is, at the heart of it, mindless longing for something that has never been, and will never be.
It's hard to be friends with an atheist, I suspect, if one is a committed Christian or Muslim or Hindu or whatever.
Whether my philosophy of life shapes who I am, or the other way around, my perception of the world matters. It matters deeply.
