Thursday, August 25, 2016

Fear

The most dangerous thing about loneliness is that you start talking to yourself in the silence. As if your own voice could fill the air and become the chatter from friends, the encouragement from family, the sound of being. But instead, you just hear your own voice and the loneliness in it.
It is like a hug that you give to yourself. It doesn't quite work. 

----

All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need... fantasies to make life bearable."

REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.

"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—"

YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.

"So we can believe the big ones?"

YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.

"They're not the same at all!"

YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET—Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME...SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.

"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point—"

MY POINT EXACTLY.

--- Terry Pratchett

Oh Sir Terry Pratchett, you atheist. I can understand where this is coming from, I really do. 
The thoughts of 
God has a plan
Trust that he has something greater in store for you
There is a purpose to all of this
You have meaning
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
-- Jer 29:11
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
-- Rom 8:28 
"...but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles;     they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."
-- Isa 40:31

Sometimes they feel so very trite, like platitudes. An encourage-o-gram that an acquaintance might press into your hand. Like graceless, meaningless condolences. A social courtesy. 

But it all comes down to faith. 
Atheists say it is a delusion.

Justice. Mercy. Rightness in the universe by which it may be judged. 
Love, goodness, faith.
None of it is tangible. I cannot hold it in my hands. And there are days that I wonder if it is all a large lie that I am telling to myself. The quiet voice in the night. My own voice that tries to fill the silence.
If all of this is a chasing of the wind. If there is nothing to hold onto. If there is no solid ground beneath my feet, then where can I walk next? 

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