I’ve always hated labels. Adjectives are only beautiful when they are not pinning someone down to a specific subculture, a specific connotation, that can make others hate and question one’s beliefs so quickly, without lending acquaintance to the individual—just radiating preconceived notions.

Why, then, do I call myself ‘atheist’? My religion has always been my greatest ambiguity. Even when I easily called myself Catholic, when I’d barely entered an age of double-digits, I never let myself embrace the faith; I always questioned. I was the preteen Euripides.

And at the other end of the spectrum, nothing has changed. I’m godless, I know that much, but in an open-minded way. The concepts interest me more than what is hiding behind the sun or below the ground. I am religiously academic, or academically religious. I haven’t quite decided which yet.

I faintly remember the day I finally declared myself positively god-free, when I shook myself of the water of my grey sea of agnosticism and encased myself in my bricks of atheism. Perhaps ‘encased’ is not the right word; I had just recently heard a lecture about spiritual atheism and didn’t hesitate in placing myself among these individuals. Thus, I gave myself some wiggle room in a paradox.

But now, again, I am questioning. I debate calling myself ‘spiritual’: I don’t burn incense often. I don’t meditate as much as I’d like to. And I refuse to attempt a connection with some sort of higher power. In short, I don’t fit the cliché, because I believe that if said higher power really cares, they will hear me when necessary. I’m a moral enough person that I don’t feel obligated to scream with up- and out-stretched palms to a being that may or may not be listening.

However, I also refuse to call myself a-spiritual, atheist, because I can’t keep my mind that closed. I love taking in new ideas, new tidbits that I can file away, whether I wish to apply them to my life or not. They’re just good things to hold onto.

If I could have things my way, I would call myself a religious and/or spiritual thief. I pluck what I want from every religion here and there, but I have nothing to offer in return. I regret this. I’d leave IOUs if I thought payback was at all probable. And I’d stop if I thought it was at all possible.

My theistic burglary has been working for all of a wonderful sixteen years, though, so it’s not about to change. To all those who find it a simple task to obey one faith, keep doing so. You do what you want, so long as it is up for grabs.

-

A feeble attempt to explain my religious views. Written 9 July 2008. I don't really call myself anything anymore. It works well enough.