My roommate said, “if you have no faith in God, you probably don’t have a purpose.”
It made me cringe to start, but then it really made me think more about the idea of purpose.
There have been times in my life when I thought a life devoid of a clear purpose was not worth living.
I would walk around thinking that I owed life something, to Him, to the almighty God. And maybe some of that is my upbringing.
My parents weren’t exactly very religious but most definitely enforced their piece of understanding on me and my siblings. They essentially encouraged us to follow the 10 commandments — not too stressful or overall demanding.
But the church represented something more. It was a space that required that I act and behave in a certain fashion.
If I didn’t, I would learn to associate my behavior with shame.
And for a while, I didn’t think anything was wrong with that. Everyone probably knew and was okay with that culture. I figured it was a normal part of belonging to a society or community.
And then, my teenage years happened.
And then, eventually, weed.
And then I started asking some questions. I no longer wanted to walk with blindfolds on.
I wanted to see what it meant to really believe in something. I really wanted to believe in the idea of God.
To this day, I still do.
The idea of a God, that would have my best interest doesn’t seem like too much of a bad deal. What makes it very difficult to accept, is the idea of living a life of abundance and slavery at the same time, to an entity that feels more like a strict parent than a chill one.
And there are many other things that still don’t make sense to me, both from the church and those who consider themselves religious.
But I digress.
The idea of purpose sort of stemmed from religion, I guess. So hearing my roommate share that sentiment was another reminder, for me, to ask myself what “path” I follow. And to be honest, I couldn’t think of anything.
And the fact that I couldn’t come up with something was refreshing.
I realized that what seemed odd about religion was the lack of adventure.
I thought to myself, I don’t really hate or feel animosity towards God or his descendants. I appreciate them for finding something.
It’s just that I prefer to never have to choose an identity. I would rather stay confused and unable to pinpoint my purpose.
The idea of a spontaneous life seems much more appealing, and since the point of religion is a worthwhile life, then there is no reason to fix what is not broken.
Things are just fine :)