Atheist Meditation: Grace Like Rain

I love being outside, and feeling a sudden tinge of excitement as I sniff the air and survey the clouds, and I realize that there will be a rainstorm soon. It's a visceral feeling for me: somehow, the atmosphere has had enough - there's so much tension and pressure, yet everything is quiet - the stillness and its promise of disruption fills me with delight.

When I reflect on this foreboding, I think of my adolescent time at church camp. The rain was never stressful. I can't recall feeling that the storms were an interruption. The rain was a pause. The storm was part of the flow of life at church camp. I loved listening to the rain bounce from the eaves of buildings and cabins.

I was promised, again and again, that I wouldn't remember this. At least, my counselors promised me that my memories were conditional. If I failed to keep thoughts of Jesus, redemption, sin, and divine forgiveness close to my heart -- every other experience that I wanted to keep in my thoughts would lose its meaning and value. Everything would slip away, like pebbles on the trails we walked that had eroded over time.

I have not forgotten. My memory lingers. I still feel warmth and happiness when I contemplate the times I spent at church camp. I no longer pray, but I feel the stillness of a forest and then I remember walking to chapel in reverent silence. I no longer sing hymns, but I feel the joy of companionship when I lose my sense of self and drunkenly sing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" with my friends. I no longer believe in eternal life, but I have memories that I will never relinquish while I live.

Most fondly, I remember when everyone was together. I remember our campfire sessions, late at night before each cabin and its group would leave for devotions and then go to sleep. We sang tenderly. We told stories. We laughed, we cried, we shouted, and we danced. I know what it's like when people love one another. I've heard that it's God's grace.

Where is this grace? It is abundant, and it is everywhere, but I can't tell you that it involves a god, a scripture, or a savior. I see it in my Jewish friend who left to teach underprivileged children for two years with Teach for America. I see it in my Muslim friend, one-time leader of the Muslim Students Association, who just left to spend two years in Kenya serving with the Peace Corps. I see it in one of my Christian friends, a former Buddhist who exemplifies conscience and compassion while working tirelessly to oppose suffering in many areas of her life. When I was at church camp, we used to sing a song about a Bible verse, 1 John 4:7-8 -- "beloved, let us love one another..." -- my friends may not have heard it, but they live its message every day.

Growing up in the Christian faith and settling into adulthood as an atheist and humanist, I have learned that love and compassion are values for every creed. I have learned that anywhere there are people who support each other without hesitation, you can find a love worth remembering. I think of the rain again. Often, the rain is so ordinary and common place for those who already witness it, that we cannot know what it's like to live an arid and parched life. We are fortunate. The rain replenishes and nourishes us. The rain surrounds us, yet it does not belong to any of us. There are so many who don't have it, or don't have enough of it. We don't need to quarrel about who really has the rain, we just need to ensure that we all have some of it. This rain, and this grace, is worth the effort to remember -- and no one can remove those memories from us, or prevent us from bringing their spirit into our lives again.

Why I'm Writing (Introduction)

I'm not good at spontaneity. I should be. I write in spurts. I don't have enough discipline to write regularly - it's why I've never been able to keep a diary or a journal for more than a few weeks at a time. I want to change that.

I'm going to write whatever comes to my mind. This blog will be a space for me to accomplish that goal. I don't care if anyone else even reads these ramblings. Perhaps a few people will, although if they do read my writing in this space, I doubt they will go all the way back to my introduction. So, if you are reading this, consider yourself one of a happy (or unlucky?) few.

One of the great luxuries in life is to have close friends. This is especially true when you need someone to listen to your greatest fears, your insecurities, your ambitions, your dreams, and your hopes. Close friends aren't really a luxury - they're a necessity - yet not everyone has them, or has them to the desired degree. I don't.

That's part of why I'm writing - here, now. I'm writing for myself. I've heard advice before that said (here I'm paraphrasing) - "if you are writing for anyone besides yourself, then you won't be able to maintain the willpower to continue writing". I believe that's true, so I make two promises today:

1. To continue writing at least 500 words every day. 2. To write for a primary audience of one: me.

I am probably going to fail in at least one of these objectives. It's a personality trait that my ambition vastly exceeds my work ethic. I'm reasonably confident that, if previous efforts are any guide, I'll ratchet my pace down from once a day to a few times a week and then a few times a month. If I am able to write any more often than that, then I will judge this blogging effort to be a great success. That is my only guideline (besides trying to write at least 500 words every time I post).

On that point, why promise to write at least 500 words every time I post? While 500 words is an arbitrary goal, I don't want to cheat by writing something that has next to no content. I want to explore my thoughts - I want to roll around in my subconscious like a child rolling in a pile of fresh autumn leaves. I want to taste that freedom, so I need space to jump into.

Further, having a tangible goal is a great way for me to concentrate my thoughts. I've found that limits inspire my creativity, and I feel that this observation is true for many writers. Also, I can be an awful procrastinator, so without a specific guideline, it is likely that I'll only do the bare minimum when I'm not feeling inspired.

Lastly, I hope that writing more often will help me feel inspired more often. I want to unleash a virtuous cycle of writing. This project may help me begin that cycle. If you are reading this, thank you for following my journeys! As a final disclaimer: many of my entries will be extremely personal, difficult, or obscure. Sometimes, writing what's inside my mind will be a painful process. Please judge sparingly. I am striving to be as open as possible - that is all. Any other standard is beyond the mission of this blog.