I am a stickler for reality, a doubter from waaayyy back.  So my spiritual quest has been hampered by my rather substantial need for reality, evidence and so forth. In hindsight, It might be more accurate to say, I have always been an atheist, and my spiritual journey was about me looking for evidence that I maybe had it wrong. Sure I’d have preferred if this evidence was scientific, empirical and quantifiable but I was willing to generously settle for any direct spiritual experience that would lead me to believing. I actually really wanted to believe. But no. It never happened for me, in any sort of sustainable way, no matter how I tried, and boy I tried.

So this then, is the Readers Digest version of how I got to Atheism.

It begins with a little girl who used to carefully juggle her Sunday mornings so she could hit at least 2 Sunday school classes. I was really into Sunday school. The stories, colouring, songs, snacks. All of it. This is interesting as my family were not religious. My grandmother was a non practising Presbyterian. My mother, who really was just a kid herself, demonstrated no real sign of religious belief. Sure we might go to church at Easter time or Christmas, but we weren’t praying, or Bible reading, or talking about God at home. About the closest she got was sending me off to Salvation Army summer camp … and I suspect that was more to get rid of me, than to teach me about God. I suspect this was also why she got involved with the Mormons and their church and exposed my sister and I to that too. I remember wanting very much to convert to Catholicism as a teen (all my best friends were Catholic, there was a really cool priest at the nearest church, the services were very impressive, youth group was good fun and I attended a Catholic high school).

However, I was also really interested the Jewish faith, the Kabbalah and in Zoroastrianism. I wanted to know what those 7th Day Adventist people were up to, and the Scientologists, and what the heck was up with heaven and hell, sinners and saints. I wanted to know how different religions saw these things (and of course, I also wanted to know which one of them were right). So I went to Baptist churches, and Lutheran churches and Anglican churches, and even a fundamentalist church, with my then, very devout,  Mexican boyfriend.

I was at the end of it, interested in non-denominational  religion, something that might distil religion down to mutually agreeable, shareable and enduring beliefs, across all religions. So I visited the United church and the Unitarian church. Across all these churches, I got dipped a few times (baptised) usually as a precursor to belonging, and wanting to realize whatever it was that the rest of those people were experiencing. I was even bully-baptised on more than one occasion. I read the Bible, several versions, more than once. I went to Bible study classes. I even thought about studying theology at one point, if for no other reason than to sort out how anyone could believe in the Bible … any Bible.

I don’t know what happened. I think I might have just gotten saturated on religion, like eating too many Oreos gives you a bit of a queasy tummy. I was queasy with my religious or spiritual progress, but more often disenchanted altogether. I was no closer to God than I ever had been. I was pretty sure I didn’t even like God. Or Jesus. Or most of the other people in the Bible. And anyway …  I wasn’t just interested in religion, I was also interested in mythology and fairy tales, collective consciousness, archetypes, metaphor, poetry, literature and mysticism. I leaned away from mainstream organized religion, and slipped sloppily into “spirituality”  loosely organized under the  New Ageism banner (I blush).

I got older, had more formal education, had became a stronger, better informed feminist. I looked for She gods (goddesses) and a  form of belief that would be truer to myself as a woman, that would recognize and celebrate women, even. I got caught up in a view of Earth Based spirituality that talked about, honoured and respected “Mother Earth”, The Goddess and the planet (I could get behind that, and still do: respect the planet, do your part). It’s also the only belief system where as a woman, I felt completely at home. I found Wicca, called myself a witch, looked for the Divine Feminine and tried hard to be a good, conscious and conscientious human being and resident of the planet. This was okay for awhile, until what I believed could no longer hold up to the weight of my scrutiny, or offer even marginal comfort. The fluffy bits, the softer bits and the sparkly bits seemed silly. Ritual lost its magic, it didn’t work and it was work. Believing in the unbelieveable takes an incredible amount of effort and energy for a girl like me and I had neither.

I fell back into the spiritual, not religious camp. I didn’t need to believe in a god, I just needed to accept that “all was energy”. I read pseudo science and pseudo  spirituality books voraciously. I believed (somewhat arrogantly) that my thoughts created my reality, and that if I could only get a grip on my thoughts, I could also create my own reality, manifest prosperity, and experience the Universe in an expansive, loving way. It all felt a lot like an endless spiritual infomercial but I gave it my best and it also did not work for me. “The Universe” was no more responsive than any god, goddess or my toaster.

The beliefs that fall under this “new age spiritualism”,  often serve to re-victimize and blame (marginalize and oppress  too) people who already have plenty of problems, and these beliefs grossly conflicted with my social justice framework and feminist values.  I had huge problems with the extreme “don’t worry, be happy, recite affirmations, think positive” crap. The therapist in me understood implicitly that while optimism is great, shutting off from what is real is a bad idea, just as slipping into any truth avoiding, reality dodging  behaviour can be.  The regular person me, knew it didn’t work, it didn’t feel authentic, and it often felt dismissive of the very real problems or challenges I was faced with. It was not hard to decide to give this up (although these ideas are now so pervasively linked into our social fabric that I still work very hard to stay conscious and confront the “happy clappy bullshit”as I call it, when it gets to be too much).

More life happened. Actually, shit happened, lots and lots of shit. I got angry. This was the period of my Dark Night of the Soul. Very, very dark. Existentialism was my friend. I didn’t want to believe in a god, or a goddess, or an undefined energy who could be so fucked up, so oblivious, so utterly unconcerned with social justice, or what was fair. My sense of ‘not okay’, continued to grow. At one point, I looked at Dark Spirituality and Satanism, and explored the idea of Self as god, and personal accountability and responsibility as decisions that were made over and over, with conciousness and a firm awareness of what is real and truthful. I gained a  good appreciation for how ludicrous right/wrong/good/bad/sin could really be. Alas, Dark Spirituality and Satanism no more had the market cornered on “real”  than any other organized system of religious or ‘spiritual’ belief. And so I walked forward and away (though I still think I am the god and boss of me).

I know something about religious intolerance. I have experienced it when I “church hopped”, I experienced it when I questioned and when I doubted, I certainly experienced it any time I deviated to exploring anything spiritual that was considered ‘on the fringe’ and a fair bit of my exploration took place on the fringe. I will pause here to say, that fringe spiritual/religious beliefs are no more preposterous (or less so) than maninstream religion. When you get down to it, it’s all much of a muchness.  I have directly experienced religious intolerance. I have some pretty good stories about what people think about a girl who dabbles in Wicca/witchcraft, satanism, or dark spirituality. It’s ain’t airy fairy and it ain’t Light and it makes people really, really uncomfortable. There have been … consequences. I wasn’t burned in the town square, but too bloody close to it, for my comfort. Perhaps that intolerance and those consequences, also pushed me along the road to atheism. It certainly helped me grow a thicker skin. People’s shit or judgements about my identification with atheism doesn’t rumple me in the least.

I had studied philosophy in University, and was drawn back to looking at religion and spirituality from this place. Again, my reading was voracious, and more satisfying overall. It didn’t give me any answers, it gave me more questions and it challenged me to think, to approach my spiritual quest from a place of logic and reason. It gave me a framework to more closely consider my values and ethics. It gave me the big questions (more or less) neatly laid out. What is the nature of the universe? Is there a supreme being, a god? What is good and what is bad or evil? What happens when we die? What is reality? What is mind? What is thought? Is thought real? Where do ideas come from? Are there laws that control thought? I’m still reading, still reflecting, still thinking.

I took up yoga, and explored Eastern religion. Buddhism sang to me, or at least the Westernized version of it did. But I never could get into gurus, lineage, books that tell me what I ought to do, or be, or think and I was not the least bit interested in enlightenment, transcendence or the rejection of ego and self. Buddhism was no more women friendly than any other religion. Asana practice, breathing practices and meditation still work for me, the rest I discarded, more or less.

I had finished my education in psychology, sociology and social work. I learned to be critically reflective. I learned to read and understand and undertake research. I learned to measure the things I know against the things I experience. I work in my field, bumping up against reality, mine and other people’s, every single day. Much of this reality is about marginalization, oppression, personal and social inequity and the systemic constructions and deconstructions of who is deserving, and who is not. This also, whilst not turning me into an atheist, certainly supported me when I got there.

Somewhere in here I began looking to science. I’m a social science/humanities girl (which had already significantly challenged any religious beliefs I had).   I considered myself “no good” at “that sort” of science and reading the physical sciences was/is hard work. It’s not written in an approachable to outsiders sort of way. So I think I started this journey with reopening my bio-psych text books and really thinking about what was going on with biology, cognition, memory and personality.  But I also pushed on to physics, quantum physics, evolutionary science and more biology. I continue to read and challenge myself to connect with science in a meaningful way. Science didn’t turn me into an atheist, but it certainly better supported my questioning and leanings.

So then what happened?

Well, I quite simply gave up on a spiritual quest, and concentrated on a far more compelling quest for knowledge and figuring out how things work.  I am far more interested in social justice, understanding this world, and building a better world – than I am in any religious or spiritual quest. This was not sad, not at all. This was a relief. A HUGE relief. My energy and time were freed up.

For awhile, after I gave up on religion, I used to say I was a spiritual, not religious person. I am over that now too. I don’t consider myself particularly spiritual, if spiritual means to believe in things unseen, unverifiable, or connected to any supreme or divine being or ‘energy’. I’m ever more insistent about reality and evidence, ever quicker to resist anything that organizes on the basis of belief or faith or anything that deflects what is. I have great reverence and wonderment for the beautiful, complex world we live in, for all the people and creature who live and for the life that is mine and that’s enough. Really.

I am not ashamed of any of my journey, regardless of where it has taken me. I find it interesting how many people don’t want to admit to their search for belief and meaning, or how involved and emmm … unconventional that search may have been. I am also bemused by people’s need to fit us into one part of our search or journey, and call us hypocrites, or heathens (grin) and never let us get past where we have once been. Hey baby, I’m a work in progress, and proud of it!

And so here I am. Feminist. Atheist. Godless Heathen (my favourite).

It’s been an interesting journey. These days I am interested in atheist activism, I am interested in the intersections between atheism/feminism/social justice. I’m still reading. I’m still questioning. I’m still thinking. I’m just not thinking about finding or practising religion, or spirituality any more and you know what? It’s a good thing.

People sometimes ask me how I keep going with nothing to believe in. I don’t find it difficult. People ask me if I am less happy. No, I am far happier and more peaceful. I don’t feel a sense of urgency to figure anything out or to find anything or anyone. I’m pretty peaceful with myself and with stuff.

And so it goes.