Nothing Will Come of Nothing
Recent events have been preying on my mind, as has Bub and Pie’s post today. Like Gabrielle, before I became a mother I viewed the world with a certain amount of clinical detachment. I could read about horrific events without really being affected personally. I can’t do it anymore.
I’ve long considered myself an agnostic. I’ve always been a doubtful, questioning person, but I was prepared to consider the possibility of some kind of order in the universe. I envied those who had religious convictions, though I didn’t (and still don’t) understand where they get their faith. Since I’ve become a mother, I’ve become increasingly cynical; I've resisted admitting it, to myself and others, but atheism is now a more correct description of my beliefs.
The things I used to be able to read about, I just can’t bear anymore: the insane number of pedophiles in our midst, the steadily increasing number of dead Canadian soldiers; the latest school shooting. One of the members of the Amish community where the massacre took place was quoted as saying God had a reason for it happening; God will provide for them; blah, blah, blah. I honestly can’t understand this way of thinking. What possible fucking reason can there be for a father of five to shoot 6-year-old girls, execution-style. How did God provide for them, or their parents?
I wish I didn’t feel this way. I have no idea how I’m going to talk about this to my daughter when the time comes. I don’t want to impose my feelings on her, but I don’t want to be a hypocrite either.
I wish I had the comfort those who have faith seem to have. It is frightening to believe there is absolutely no justice in the world. I guess all I can do is keep on doing what I’ve been trying to do all along: live for the moment, tell my baby I love her every day, and try not to waste a single moment, because I know that everything I love can be taken away from me in a heartbeat--for no reason at all.
Labels: moi
posted by metro mama @ 9:08 PM
13 Comments:
I feel the same way. I lost my faith a long time ago. Sometimes I wish I had it back.
I have no faith in the traditional sense of the word.
But I wish I did. I want blind comfort sometimes....I wish I could lose myself in a faith in a greater power, in prayer as a salve.
But it ain't gonna happen over here. But I wish it would. I think I would feel safer.
I question my faith every single day. That horrific shooting has not left my mind since I first heard of it. I'm sick. I left the monkey in daycare today so i could workout for an hour. I was counting the minutes till I could see her and hug her and kiss her and just hold her. I am sick sick sick and so very sad for the parents and for those children who suffered. Uch. Sick.
That shooting at the Amish school was just horrible. Although I am spiritual, I still can't really understand why these things happen. If I were one of their mothers, there's a good chance my faith would be shaken and I can't say that it would be easy to get it back.
I have never talked about my own faith on my blog. But I could have written your post. Word for word. I am haunted by that shooting and by the reactions to it as well. It is senseless. Sometimes I wish I was a more religious person so that I could find solice or an explanation that would quiet my raging thoughts. Thanks for always writing with such honesty and clarity J.
I don't understand the faith that the Amish - or anyone religious - has, but I'm glad they do. They will need it.
I read this post before I saw your comment over on mine. It does seem to be something in the air lately. I had already been working on a post about being an atheist for a while, but the shootings were definitely on my mind.
One of my sisters and I both found, shortly after our father's death, that there was some part of us that yearned for the comfort of faith. But that's yet a third post I'm crafting on the subject.
I've not yet read B&P's post. That will be the next stop. I heard about the shootings from my husband, and have a post of my own to work out about this new insanity.
For now, the only thing I can think in response to your post is:
The only justice there is in the world is what we give, and what we perceive. And you are spot on, my friend. All we have is right now. So I look over to watch my daughter quietly playing at the table, feel the presence of my husband asleep in the bedroom, hear the autumn wind as it blows through the falling leaves. Here is peace.
Unfortunately this stuff has been going on in the world for years, decades, even, but we never heard about it until the Internet brought us all together. Now we get every intimate detail on every tragedy.
I think it's time to preach / re-enforce morals and rights and wrongs into the educational system. That along with making people responsible for their actions might go a long way towards fixing some of these wrongs. Unless of course, those cowards that kill others then take their own lives still persist. Something needs to be done about them.
How will we explain this to our kids???
Yes, we need to teach our children the rights and wrongs - at home and in school. Not just for fear of the repercussions of our "cowardly" acts, but to know the act is wrong in the first place.
I take FULL responsibility for my children. All the time. Their successes will be mine; their failures will be as well.
Our teachings begin in the home and spread to the community: we must trust and help one another. This is how a society should be.
YES. And yes, I struggle to succumb to faith to provide reasons for the absurd. I don't know how to let it all ride that way, and I don't know how to balance the what-ifs sometimes without tipping into fear. Simply put, we only have this moment, and nothing else, so we need to cherish it and make it ours.
To be honest, I'm not sure if I had faith, if it would help with something like this or if it would just make me angrier, make me lose faith anyhow.
I have a great respect for the Amish community's stance of forgiveness, I think it's a wonderful ideal - not dwelling, grieving and moving on one day does seem healthy, seems designed to avoid revenge and anger. But how realistic? How can those mothers be expected to forgive? What if they can't? Does it hurt their relationship with their entire community, the only life and support they have ever known? I hope there is room for the time and the process they need for their grieving.
Had to come back and on an upbeat note, assure you that the worls is also filled with good. That the people we surround ourselves with make up the beauty in our everyday.
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