On Saturday, I experienced somewhat of a rude awakening when I read my blog entry, Taking It All In: The Evolution of an Atheist, to a crowd of 20 people. The post follows my personal journey through the intellectual realizations that speckle my life. It was intended to simply explain how I came to be who I am, and I plainly state that anyone else may draw very different conclusions from the same things. That didn't stop my audience from being offended. From the strangers who listened in, to the friends who have known me for years, many people seemed to be irked by my delivery. Though I make no secret about my disdain for people who believe in things in spite of evidence, I do feel that some of the reactions were unfair.
The number one complaint: I was not sensitive in how I made my points. That is, I stated things as if they were the truth and that no other reasoning was correct. This may have offended people who thought otherwise or caused them to ignore my points because I did not caress their sensibilities. Philip Pullman recently stated that "no one has the right to live without being offended." After the onslaught of criticism, I asked the audience if they happened to catch the part in the middle where I stated:
I want to pause here and say that my epiphanies are the result of my personal observations, not some mathematical calculation based on cold logic. You may not see things the same way I do. You may not be paying attention to the same details I am. You may have a different explanation to digest the information with. A different person walking in my shoes may very well have turned into ... a different person. I'm not trying to convince you, just help you see how much has gone into the mentality that I now have.The response told me that they did not remember it. Something tells me that if I had softened up each claim, the way they had suggested, with a qualifier of, "This is just my opinion," the reaction would have been no different. It would have only served to make my wording exhaustive. The bare point here is that I said things that placed many of my listeners on the wrong side of a pointed remark. A remark about one's understanding of reality, no less. While I was only looking for critiques on my writing style, I had a bunch of offended people telling me to not be so offensive because, they say, it would help them digest what I was trying to communicate.
Here's what I will concede about my post. It was critical of beliefs which contradict evidence. It was not conducive to people who think that reality is subjective. It did not qualify some of its latter points as simply my own feelings. It did not specify that when I use the word "religion," I mean all of the Abrahamic faiths (that doesn't mean, however, that Dharmic faiths don't match the claims I make). Evidently, I did not choose a mode of communication that was good for discussion.
One friend reacted quite passionately, telling me that I simply cannot tell people that their perception of reality isn't correct. Curious about this point, I approached him afterward and asked him what he meant. His response was that quantum mechanics allowed people to manipulate reality with the power of their minds. "Now that," I said, "I disagree with." He admitted to reading my blog for a while, but became a bit disenchanted with the way I constantly ragged on religion. Fair enough, but being poignant doesn't make my statements any less valid. He told me that nobody gets to define what is in "here," pointing to his head, except him. Also fair, but I specialize in describing what is going on out "here." "Here" being the world in which we interact.
He had a problem with atheists in that they identified with a negative (that god doesn't exist) as opposed to a positive (the oft-asked question, "What DO they stand for?"). "What are you?" I asked. He resisted the question and rebuked the idea of even being defined by a title. I assume this was in reference to my embracing of the "atheist" label. Well, if someone has a problem with the semantics of your situation, you're obviously caught. No way to avoid that. Atheists wouldn't exist if believers didn't either. "Atheism" is simply half of a logical dichotomy that encompasses everyone. You may argue that there are gray areas, but there are labels for those, too. Calling myself an atheist, I explained, is just a way for my audience to find me. If I tried to sell my opinions under any other moniker, they would call it atheism regardless.
I asked my friend if he believed in a god and his answer was that he couldn't say if one existed either way. "So, you're an agnostic." He was frustrated by my pushing a subject that he obviously was not comfortable talking about, but I sensed the familiarity of my former mentality within him. The rejection of all self-definition could be the sign of a mind that simply wants to clear space around it so that it can grow in any direction it wills. I paused for a moment to think about that and he slipped away.
I'm thinking about it some more, now. I repeat: The rejection of all self-definition could be the sign of a mind that simply wants to clear space around it so that it can grow in any direction it wills. It is a mental image that immediately conjures too many thoughts to wrangle into words. In one sequence, I see the mind as a seed within a circular world, sprouting its roots and seedling in a wandering, twisted, aimless fashion. I wonder what thoughts that mind possesses and why. I wonder if the thoughts make sense to anyone except the mind itself. I wonder what the chances are that it gets to the surface for some sun. I wonder if it even thinks the sun is good for it. In another sequence, I see the same seed growing out in a single direction, guided out by the sun. The growth is directed and full of intent. I can sympathize with it, so I do not wonder as much.
One may see the choice of dedicated growth to be made out of fear, coercion or frailty of mind. While Barry Schwartz would disagree, there is some validity to the concern. Many of us have simply grown so far in one direction that we are unable to even give allowances to different ways of thinking.
I used to believe that the wandering roots and boundless growth represented the best way to live. I rejected labels and was quick to correct any assumptions. I wanted to believe that anything was possible. I'm not sure I can point to any particular point where I changed. I just know that at some point I decided that my wanderings had to have a conclusion and that my principles had to have a foundation. Reality, it seemed, was as good a place as any to focus on. Since then, I've been growing in one direction, fortified by the evidence of observation and logic. I'm not about to apologize for having been there before and made up my mind to be more realistic.
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