Wednesday, December 19, 2007

dour and ecstatic

Once I wanted to believe in God. Once I wanted eternity. I wanted truth. I needed, needed to know. I talked to priests, to monks, to professors, to scientists. I wanted answers. I wanted someone, anyone, to know, to tell me, and no one did and no one could.

My mom never brought me to church. I was never raised to depend on anything unseen except for some swirling amorphous universal logic of cause and effect and balance. As a young adult I groped, dug, and came out with no answers, just a comforting apathy. Just a sense of restless, hungry peace.

I don't believe in anything. I don't really disbelieve in God or ghosts or karma or what have you, I just don't really care. All that matters, all I've found I believe in is love, is how you treat the people you love, how well you love, and how you are loved. I believe in art insofar as it is love. I believe in science and religion insofar as they are love.

I understand nothing about anything, and neither do you, and it doesn't particularly matter anyway. My worth does not depend on an immortal, ectoplasmic soul, on an omniscient watching eye, on a fatalistic plan, or on random, purposeless chance. My worth is not in my IQ or my measurements or the straightness of my nose or my talent.

My worth is in my laugh. My laugh carries my love. It is ephemeral and eternal. I will live as well as I can. I will love as well as I can. What else are we breathing for, anyway?

We all will die someday, and therefore, we are free.

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