Lost faith in humanity

Back in August, I wrote a blog called I shall not live in fear. It was a reaction the anger and fear of Trump supporters of and regarding immigrants, Muslims, non-White people, crime, loss of the English language, a Black Lives Matter member marrying their daughter, Satanists praying at their next city council meeting, and on and on and on. The level of fear, anger and righteousness was absurd to me then.

It's not only absurd to me now. It's terrifying.

Facts mean nothing to these people. They spew the most vile racist and sexist things while denying whole-heartedly that they are racist or sexist. They are not nearly as economically disadvantaged as they claim, and they've regained economic ground lost under the Bush administration (thanks, Obama, for real!), but their perception is otherwise. They feel under siege, even though they aren't. They feel they are having their quality of life taken away, even though they aren't. They see greater opportunity for people not like them as meaning they themselves are losing out.

How to reach them? Pardon me if I am not feeling a desire to "reach out" or "meet them half way." I hereby confess that I think the term deplorables as quite apt, and I don't like deplorables.

I'm a reason-based gal. I like in-depth statistics and facts and data, even when what such reveals is an inconvenient, even painful truth, even when I have to change my mind as a result. Righteousness repulses me. I, therefore, have a great deal of trouble relating to people who don't do this, who will seek out data from a not-at-all credible source just so they can double down on their beliefs.

How to show empathy for the un-empathetic? How to reason with unreasonable people? How to show kindness to unkind, even hateful people?

And how to restore my long-held faith in humanity, a belief in the idea that, ultimately, after a lot of mess and failure, we are capable of getting it right and living together and embracing the idea that all humans have the right to equal opportunity?

Even being a humanist requires faith. Humanism stresses the potential value and goodness of human beings, emphasizes common human needs, and seeks rational ways of solving human problems. I'm just not so sure about that whole potential value and goodness part anymore.

What now? I will continue to learn Spanish, have coffee with Muslim friends, dance at gay weddings, watch science shows, read books, visit Mexico, sing Louvin Brothers songs ironically, say and believe #BlackLivesMatter, call myself a feminist, listen to international news radio stations, not say the "Pledge of Allegiance", applaud smart, intellectual, professional women, delight in diversity, have the utmost respect for public servants and do lots of other things that, apparently, are woefully un-American in the new USA. I will continue to travel - and hope I'm safe doing so, that Trump hasn't created a far more dangerous world for me and put a target on my back, as someone from the USA.

And in doing all that, even if my faith and hope aren't restored, I'll be having a nice time.

Contradictions lead to happiness

A 6th generation Mormon, Jeremy Runnells had expectations and plans of living in the Church of Latter Day Saints for the rest of his life. However, in February 2012, Jeremy experienced a crisis of faith. In the spring of 2013, Jeremy was approached and asked by a Mormon Church Educational System Director to share his concerns and questions about the LDS Church's origins, history, and current practices. In response, Jeremy wrote what later became publicly known as Letter to a CES Director, and very quickly went viral on the internet. The CES Director responded that he read the "very well written" letter and that he would provide Jeremy with a response. No response ever came.

You can download the letter from this web site (click on "download the PDF" when you get there - it's a free download).

I found this letter - and the silence from the Mormon church - so hauntingly familiar. I had very similar, specific questions when I was in my teens and was realizing I just wasn't really believing what I had been taught all of my life by Christian churches, that I'd never believed it. The number of Bible contradictions - such as the examples listed here and here - I was realizing for myself were mounting. The cruelty and violence, the misogyny against women were disturbing me in particular, and no one had answers to my many questions and observations - they just kept telling me to "accept" and that I would have answers "some day." I was made to feel bad for my many questions and statements that I felt nothing people assured me I would feel if I said things like, "Christ, I accept you as my savior. Live in my heart." I might as well have said abracadabra over and over.

When I was trying to be a Christian, deep joy was always out of reach. Happiness was oh-so-fleeting. I was afraid of my own emotions, because I was being told I shouldn't be upset no matter what horrors in life I might encounter, no matter what happened in my life or anywhere in the world, because God had a plan, and to be upset was to doubt that plan - in other words, children being raped, people being slaughtered, villages and cities being destroyed by natural disasters, people dying slowly from the most horrible diseases you can imagine, and all other suffering was a good thing, a divine thing, and I would just have to hope and trust there was a reason for it all. God Makes No Mistakes and God is Good All the Time. And I was supposed to seek out other Christians as friends, specifically, and avoid non-believers. In fact, many people said I was to seek out only certain Christians - no Catholics, no Mormons, maybe not anyone that sprinkles instead of dunks...

When I quit trying to believe, when I embraced that life-long doubt in a magical invisible all-powerful friend who allowed, or caused, misery, life very slowly started to get better. No one was allowing tsunamis, tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes and other natural disasters to kill millions of people - those things happened, without any meaning behind them other than weather patterns and geological realities, and there were all sorts of things we, humans, could do to mitigate the damage. And there were all sorts of things we can do to reduce horrors visited upon humans by other humans. And God hadn't abandoned or ignored me as I prayed every day, desperately, for an end to the abuse in my family - there is no God, and I needed to find help to get out of that situation and live a very different life than I'd grown up in.

And I got to be kind to everyone, no matter their beliefs. I got to pick friends and associates based on the character they showed - the kindness, the understanding, the care - not their proclaimed religion. I get to embrace humankind, the brotherhood of man, as a species, as a family.

And I got to hope, in a way I never could before, because I knew there was no omnipotent sentient entity with some master plan causing everything in the world, helpful, glorious or harmful - instead, the world was full of endless possibilities, some of which I could control, some of which I could influence, and all of which were real.

Hallelujah!

Why I love being an atheist

A secular humanist / atheist response to the Charleston shootings

I'm sure I'm not the only atheist/humanist crying this morning regarding the murders at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church. in Charleston, South Carolina.

This is an assault on our entire human family. That's what terrorism is, at its heart.

I keep thinking about how the shooter was probably welcomed into the building, kindly invited to sit down to that latest meeting of a loving weekly community...

These murders are beyond what human language can describe. And the only response that truly counters terrorism is a call for our full humanity - our benevolence, our hope for all people, no matter their religion, or lack there of, and our support of each other, across social constructs of race, culture and religion.

I do not pray for Charleston, but I vow to stand with those working for peace, working for understanding, working for something far beyond tolerance - working for the embracing of the potential value and goodness of all human beings and all that we have in common.

#CharlestonShooting
#terrorism

Lovely things that feel magical in the natural world

Hope

Love

Joy 

Wonder

Delight

Contentment

Resilience

Fulfillment

Aspirations

Optimism

Promise

Goodness

None of those things are supernatural. None are magic, though they can feel like something magical. They are all natural, all real, a part of our world, and, therefore, all are possible to experience. That means you can experience them without a belief in a god or gods. And atheists do, just as often, maybe even more often, than people that believe in the supernatural. 

I love experiencing all of these wonderful things. I don’t experience them every second of every day, but I experience these wonderful things far, far more often, and in greater abundance, since I stopped trying to believe in a magical, invisible super friend. 

Believers love to say you can't be happy without a god or gods. I wonder how they explain me?

Happy New Year!

Also see:    

• The power & the glory of hope, WITHOUT a god
• Love is logical. Love makes sense.
• The Atheist Response to Tragedy

Thankful

Thankful, as an adjective, means to be pleased and relieved. To me, being thankful is demonstrating appreciation for good things. It's something humans have done for a few millennia, building an endless number of rituals around such.

I don't need a deity to feel grateful to - to be thankful, to have gratitude, needs no belief in an invisible super friend.

As I noted earlier this year, the Greater Good Science Center at the University of California-Berkeley studies the psychology, sociology, and neuroscience of well-being, including how the traits of altruism, compassion, empathy, and mindfulness transcend religions and contribute to happiness. The importance of gratitude is one focus of their study. Scientists are finding that people who practice gratitude consistently report a host of benefits:

• Stronger immune systems and lower blood pressure
• Higher levels of positive emotions
• More joy, optimism, and happiness
• Acting with more generosity and compassion
• Feeling less lonely and isolated

A few years ago, I decided to start sending thank you notes. I send them via formal stationary or via a simple postcard. Some people have gushed to me how they have made them feel - others have never mentioned them. But I do them, regardless of any comment I may or may not get, because I want that moment recorded and acknowledged, for myself and the other person. I want to demonstrate, clearly, that I valued that thing or moment. And it really, really makes me feel good.

Also a few years ago, I made a commitment to write at least two good reviews for every bad one I write on Yelp. I've actually far exceeded that margin. One place I wrote a bad review for saw all my good reviews and worked to correct the problem because they could see I wasn't just a curmudgeon.

And then there's my victory dance: for getting a discount airline ticket, or a refund of some kind, or for making a flight I was convinced I was going to miss... if I'm going to stomp about and lament a missed flight or poor customer service, I'm going to get happy for when things go right - much to my husband's embarrassment at times (dancing in public does that).

Thanksgiving has always been a special holiday¹ to me. I like the focus on people being together, rather than on gifts. It transcends any religion. I've experienced the day far from my family, hundreds, even thousands of miles away, and that feeling of welcome, of kindness and of celebration for being together is something I always cherish.

So, for what am I thankful? For 2013, I'm grateful for:

• the patience, love and support from my husband
• the continuing health and vibrant nature of my 17 year-old puppy
• the time I got to spend with my sister and nieces this year
• the kindness of the community in which I live
• my financial stability
• the paid work I got in 2013
• the stamps in my passport, even the latest one for a trip that was a disaster
• all national parks in the USA
• my motorcycle
• the Affordable Care Act (but not the web site!)
• the natural beauty all around me
• the choice to buy a house seeming to be the right one
• Benedict Cumberbatch 
• a release date for Sherlock in the USA
• Nathan Fillion on Twitter

Savoring life is good for you - science says so! If you don't feel gratitude, but want to, then go through the motions of gratitude - write thank you notes (even on sticky notes), send an email thanking someone for something, write a positive Yelp review for a restaurant, a hair salon, a car mechanic, a lawn service, a store, or other business you have patronized. Going through the motions can cultivate the emotion of gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving!

1: The word holiday probably comes from the Old English word hāligdæg, which means holy day. Here, I'm using it to mean day of celebration and recreation and no work.

Why I "do good"; Why I try to be kind

I'm an atheist. And I try to do good. I try to be kind.

Why do I do nice things for other people? Why do I try to be kind - especially when I've got an impulse NOT to be kind? Because:

• It feels good and puts me in a good mood if I'm not in such already.
• I hope someone will do that for me when I'm in need.
• It often puts a person that is receiving the kindness, or observing the kindness, in a good mood, and maybe it will inspire that person to do good for someone else.
• I want a neighbor or co-worker to like me.
• It makes me feel like I have some control over a little part of my day or life. 
• Not doing something nice for someone, on purpose, makes me feel guilty, like I've let down my fellow humans. 
• I like humans (most of the time), and animals all of the time (except mosquitos).

Why do I volunteer for nonprofit organizations? Because:

• It feels good.
• It makes me feel like I have some control over a little part of my day or life. 
• There's a cause I feel passionately about, and I want to be a part of that cause.
• The volunteer task sounds fun.
• I want to understand a particular issue or activity better. 
• I'm angry about something, and volunteering makes me feel like I'm doing something about it.
• I think the other volunteers might be fun. 
• I think a particular task or association with an organization will look good on my résumé or help me network with people who might want to hire me.
• It gets me free tickets to a theater, dance or singing event I'd really like to see but can't afford.
• I want to be a full, invested member of my community. It makes a community or place feel more "mine." 

I don't help others, or volunteer, to please a deity. I don't volunteer to get into a better after life.

Where does the impulse to do good come from? Not from a deity - certainly not from the same deity that compels its followers to rape and kill non-believers.

The Greater Good Science Center at the University of California-Berkeley studies the psychology, sociology, and neuroscience of well-being, including how the traits of altruism, compassion, empathy, and mindfulness transcend religions and contribute to happiness. The center notes that:

Compassion is a fundamental human trait, with deep psychological and evolutionary roots.

In short - we've evolved to be good, and goodness keeps our species - and our world - thriving.

Also see: Groups for Atheist and Secular Volunteers / Philanthropy.

The Journey - becoming an Atheist

The journey from religious dogma to Atheism / Secular Humanism isn't one that goes from a place of comfort and certainty to despondency and hopelessness, as those that believe in a magical, invisible friend (or several such friends, for that matter) will tell you.

Rather, it is often a journey from a place of great discomfort and disquiet, a place of fear and and required prejudice, to a place of wonder, joy, acceptance, appreciation and exploration. This article in the New York Times maps such a journey.

...he rounded up favorite quotations from Emerson, Thoreau, Confucius, Siddhartha, Gandhi, Marcus Aurelius, Martin Luther King and more. From the New Testament, too. He put each on a strip of paper, then filled a salad bowl with the strips. At dinner he asks his kids to fish one out so they can discuss it.

He takes his kids outside to gaze at stars, which speak to the wonder of creation and the humility he wants them to feel about their place in it.

He’s big on humility, asking, who are we to go to the barricades for human embryos and then treat animals and their habitats with such contempt? Or to make such unforgiving judgments about people who err, including women who get pregnant without meaning to, unequipped for the awesome responsibility of a child?

Beautiful!

Picking & choosing morals?

A Tweet I read today:

GodlessAtheist

Pope says atheists pick & choose their morals. Today I will be frowning on child abuse & not having a problem with homosexuality #atheism

And I laughed and laughed...

Even the Dali Lama says we can be good without God.

Where do my morals come from? From my own thoughts, which are much better expressed by Carl Sagan than me, such as in the text that goes along with this magnificent video.

In case you don't want to, or cannot, listen to the video, here is an except of the text read with the video:

From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it's different. Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity -- in all this vastness -- there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us. It's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."

—Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space