Verily, I am Fucked Unto the Lord

So interesting.

To go back and read an old old chart and find a couple of things --

1) Remember I mentioned how people with dark energy seem to be attracted to me? They find me, seek me out? Well, apparently, there's a reason for it. It's because I have Scorpio ascendant. Anytime I tell anyone I have Scorpio as my rising sign they take a step backward and look just a little... afraid. Because here's little miss sweetness and sunshine and it's like I lifted up a rock out of the mud and showed them something nasty. I'll have to pay attention to that.

2) The most interesting thing was to see that people with my particular alignment of planets are destined to lose their faith.

Now.

I've been realizing lately that rather than being a person who believes, I've actually been a person who has been clinging to the idea of being a believer. See how pervasive our conditioning is from childhood? Someone waved a magic wand over me when I popped into the world on that Sunday morning and said, "Poof! You're a Catholic!"

And even when I stopped being a Catholic, I still held onto a belief that I believed in God. So lately, as I sit back and really consider it, I realized, more with a sense of curiosity than fear, "Hm. I don't think I believe in God."

Not, "I don't believe in God anymore." But "I don't think I believe in God."

And in retrospect, I realize that I haven't, not for a while, and I really wonder if I ever did. I think about my half-assed Catholicism growing up, the fact that I spent most of those Sunday mornings daydreaming about how cute Father Bill was, or if Ricky Pfeuffer liked me (turns out he didn't -- not until senior year), or was I going to the mall that day -- I wasn't really practicing my faith.

This is not to say that I don't totally groove on the ritual. I'm a big fan of ritual. The smells and bells. The sit down, kneel up, stand up, sing out, shake hands ritual. In fact, put a little churchy incense smell in my vicinity and I can recite the Apostle's Creed word for word. If someone randomly approached me on Bedford Avenue and said, "RECITE THE APOSTLE'S CREED," under pain of death, I honest to Pete know I couldn't do it. But give me just one whiff of that good old religion stank and I become a trained monkey.

So, this is some kind of weird, I've been carrying it around like a little secret, wondering who I can try it out on. The natural choice would be my favorite athiest, W, but that would be like preaching to the choir, wouldn't it? I know my sister doesn't believe, so that's no big deal. I kinda feel like it needs to be a secret, but not a secret. Sorta the way people of faith used to just do their thing without preaching it out to everyone they knew. (Frankly, I find it annoying that our receptionist needs to give glory to God in every fucking sentence. Hey, nice that you believe, but is this really the place?)

I think that the assumption that most people carry is that you DO believe in God. They just assume that even if you don't practice your thrust-upon-you-at-birth religiion, you are just "lapsed" or "non-practicing."

So to be one of the non-believers, hmmm. It's interesting. And once again, I've chosen the path of the outsider.

I'm still finding out what I do believe in.

Free will.

Natural selection.

Maybe nothing is the safest thing to believe in.

More on this later. It's very interesting.

I don't know if it's as interesting as fucking other people's husbands, but I'll definitely come back to it.