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The Virginia Chronicles

From Thursday at noon til Sunday at noon. In that time, my son and I: rafted the James, explored the art mural scene in Richmond on bike, climbed at the VCU climbing wall (my first experience), cycled to Jamestown (45 miles), explored Jamestown, cycled back to Richmond, ate at the fabulous 821(twice) AND mamazu’s, prepared a meal for our host family, and ate a meal prepared by our host family. Oh, and did I mention the hurricane? Or getting to see, from the window of the gate where I had just landed, Air Force One land and its de-planing passengers? No?

DISCLAIMER: This is not another swag post about my kid. He just happens to have been the coordinator for all we did, and I can’t relate the adventures without telling that. This trip was to have been a visit with him, and a chance to see where he lives and works in Richmond, Virginia. If the splendor of Sam comes through, I can’t help that.

Son #2 is the assistant director of the Outdoor Program at Virginia Commonwealth University. Back in the day (’78-’82 for me), these outdoor programs had a couple of backpacks to rent, maybe a bike to check out, and one or two trips per semester to a nearby state park. No more. Here’s a picture of the Center at VCU:

In the Fall 2012 semester alone, the program has taken 75 trips, has bikes (road and mountain), kayaks, paddle boards, climbing wall, backpacks, wetsuits available to students, conducts a student leadership program, has a staff of 40 students, and has its sights set on VCU Qatar , its sister campus, for a recreational trip during the 2013 school year.

Sam began this job in the fall of 2012, and I’ve been trying to get up to see him since then. Regular readers of this blog know with my online law school, and my retired Delta-pilot-father, I take advantage of the pass travel with vigor. When a weekend became available, I leapt at the chance to get this visit in. With the patience and generosity of my ever-devoted partner/boyfriend to watch my high-maintenance dogs for the weekend, off I went.

When I boarded my flight in Atlanta for Richmond, an announcement was made that due to the arrival of the President in Richmond for a campaign event, there was a possibility that we might be delayed. We arrived 7 minutes before the arrival of Air Force One, so I was able to see that occur from a great vantage point:

I missed seeing him in a hallway in a casino in Las Vegas in 2008 by seconds, so I was delighted to be seeing him, even at this distance! Minutes later, I saw my precious boy just past the security point and off to our adventures we went.

First stop: Sam’s “office”, the Outdoor Adventure Center at Virginia Commonwealth University. We had time to grab a quick bite at the 821, a funky little cafe 2 blocks from work.

In my defense, we shared this monstrosity

Then it was back to the office to pack up and head out for an afternoon rafting adventure on the James. The water was way down, which bummed out the kayakers, but suited me fine as Sam and I tackled it R2ing (riverspeak for 2 in a raft). It was so unusual to be whitewater rafting with a city skyline as the backdrop. I’ve got no pics, since I don’t have a waterproof case for my phone – Sam took some, and I’ll try to go back and edit after he posts those shots.

After getting the obligatory drenching (he’s still my son, after all) we changed into dry clothes and met up with Sam’s boss, and roommate couple, and dear friends Joey and Lauren for a dinner at mammazu’s, a high-funk, fabulous, Italian eatery. We feasted upon vegetable lasagna, eggplant parmesan, rockfish, crab, bread, and wine. The food and the conversation were delightful and memorable.

Moving into Friday morning, Sam and I hopped the bikes to his local coffee shop where we had our java and java talk, one of my favorite parts of the whole weekend. From there we headed back to the center where we set out for a day of sightseeing Hollywood cemetery and Richmond’s street mural art scene.

One of two US Presidents buried here. Also, one CSA President. You’ll have to Google to find out. Ever the teacher.

Then it was back to the climbing wall where there was a combination climbing contest/halloween party. You can be sure that the group associated with outdoor adventure is going to come through with the costumes. I went as a cyclist (which was convenient since that’s what I had on…).

Sam went as a banjo player from Tennessee

I knew it was coming. A test of the commitment Pledge. When my kids were little, before they reached adolescence and I lost all credibility with them, I promised that whatever they would let me participate in with them, I would, and the Pledge raised its head again this night. I had avoided the climbing piece for a long time, not being particularly enamored of heights, and not being overly strong in my upper body, and my weight being up a little because I haven’t been training. No allowances, however, so up I went. I at least had on climbing shoes, and of course my own boy at the other end of my harness. I’m not sure where the fear comes from, because my rational mind was aware that I was secure from falling. Maybe because I didn’t want to disappoint my son? Maybe because I didn’t want to wimp out because I wasn’t strong enough to do it? Ultimately it didn’t matter, because I did make it straight to the top, and what a rush that was!

Then it was home to a feast prepared by the lovely Lauren, and fashion modeling by darling Mercks.

Saturday morning saw us up early, gearing up with the 10 students who joined in for the bike ride to Chickahominy Riverfront park, near Jamestown, VA. We had a slight mechanical situation along the way…

…but resolved that and then headed into historic Jamestown for a very quick tour.

Captain Smith. He was too high for me to be obscene with…sorry to disappoint.

After a campground cookout, we hit the tent for a night of sleep hearing Sandy’s first rainfall on the nylon. After a campground breakfast of bacon and eggs, we set out back for Richmond, pinched between the system coming from the southwest and Sandy bearing down from the southeast. We made it back to Richmond without getting too wet, and were glad to get off the bikes and head to Little Mexico for a little cerveza and chips before dinner.

Back home, after the lovely meal Lauren made for us, Sam and I pitched in and made salad, vegetable soup, and cornbread for our family dinner.

Then, just like that, it was Monday, and time to head back home. Out of Richmond. In the middle of Sandy the hurricane. Usually there are 10 or so flights between Richmond and Atlanta; on this day, at least 6 of them were cancelled. All the remaining were oversold. When this happens, there’s nothing to do but try or wait it out. We opted to try, and through some series of fortunate events, I made it to Atlanta, then on home to Nashville.

So, 96 hours with Sammy, and as always, I’m richer for it.

Thanks for reading!

October 30, 2012 3

Glenda

So I’ve been out of town for several days, and my darling daughter came into town from Knoxville to watch my canines while I’m gone.

If you don’t have a person in your close circle who is an art major, you have missed one of the joys of life. I did not know about this until I had one myself.

What follows is what greeted me upon my return home. My girl gave me a little heads-up that she had “left a few things for me”. Indeed.

This is the bathroom.

Those little stickies on the mirror are communications she left for me. Beside admonishing me to Clean My (makeup) Brushes, she left a 3-page instruction manual, complete with samples and drawings on how I should be wearing my makeup.

Note: While I like to think of myself as hip and cutting-edge, in the eyes of my children I am still Mom. I have Mom clothes and listen to Mom music and wear Mom makeup. Instead of making me defensive, nothing could please me anymore than to been seen that way by these 4 people. I will take the eyerolls and glances between them and the good-natured teasing any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

Here’s a closeup of some of the detail:

Second note: I am fortunate that this girl is not only an art major but a professional performer as well, and knows a lot about these things she’s advised me about. One of the things she has taught me to appreciate is strolling through a makeup department or makeup store while she gets me up-to-date on the latest trend or product. As an animal -rights advocate, she knows which brands use animal testing and which do not. She knows what performers use what brands, and what techniques to use to create a certain look. This is so far out of my own wheelhouse it magnifies the experience exponentially.

She had told me that one of the things she had left for me was kind of a surprise gift. I live in a very interesting 75-year-old home and I winced when she said it was a rather permanent addition to the house, but when I finally discovered it, I could not have been more pleased.

This is becoming a signature piece for her. Here’s a print she did recently – it’s hard to tell from the photo, but it’s about 2’ x 3’. I want to have a fabric print made of it. She does occasionally put her pieces up for sale, so contact me if you’re interested. (ooops – I’ll come back and add the photo – I don’t have it downloaded yet).

Edit:

I’ve blogged about her before here, along with my other honeys, (and here and here is some of their work) and they all accept it with good grace. Everyone is madly in love with their children, as am I; madly, hopelessly, irretrievably, unconditionally in love with them. I am profoundly and humbly grateful to them and for them. They have become spectacular adult human beings, and when they metaphorically allow me to crawl into their cribs with them and hold them close, I want to freeze the universe and preserve the moment.

Thank you sweet girl for your help with the pooches…I love your beautiful self.

Thanks for reading!

October 27, 2012 5

Adam Dugger, 1984-2012

Adam’s funeral was today.

I wrote this post not long ago about Adam and his cancer. After 5 long, brave years, Adam passed away in his home with his wife and family with him. Today was his tribute.

The circle of people who loved Adam spoke with love and a calmness that must have belied their emotions. I heard his mother, my friend Renee, read a letter she had composed to him that contained a collage of adjectives that beautifully, word by word, described her beautiful son. I heard his father, my dear David, speak of how proud he was, not only of Adam’s bravery in facing his diagnoses, but in how, even to his last day, Adam sought to be certain his wife would be cared for. I heard his brother give that highest possible praise to a sibling: he was my friend. I heard his father-in-law describe Adam’s integrity and wit and wisdom. And I heard his pastors tell of Adam’s strength, and character, and devotion to his family, and one said: “Because of Adam, I am a better husband, a better father, and a better friend.”

I already loved this boy-man. He was 6 years old when I met him, and he and his little brother Aaron, and my boys played countless hours of Lego’s and K’nex. He was a funny, cute, sensitive little kid, who grew into a huge, lovable, kind, witty man. His passions, besides the obvious one of his sweet wife, were music, board games, and video games. But if I didn’t love him before today, I would have after this service.

Every song sung, and every word said illuminated the far-too-short life of this remarkable young man. When we lose someone like Adam, we suffer a personal hurt and pain for the loss of this person so important to us. In Adam’s case, the pain goes deeper, because it feels like the whole world has lost him, and that we’re poorer for it. But those of us who knew and loved Adam consider ourselves so very fortunate, even in the pain, and each memory is truly precious.

There are two things I think one hopes for at a funeral or memorial service. One is for the family to be comforted. The other is to show the person for who he was: strengths, weaknesses, humor, passion, history, all of it. This lovely service for this lovely man succeeded at both.

The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society

Murfreesboro Freethinkers Light the Walk

Bone Marrow Donors’ Registry

April 10, 2012 2

Community

I credit evolution.

My kids get tired of my constant reference to it, but I think we can learn so much from our evolutionary heritage. I’m not a scientist, so all of this is amateur, but I’m learning how to apply what evolution can teach us now.

About 10 years ago, when I started on a journey to regain my health, I discovered information that allowed me to do that. I began to study metabolic science, nutrients, human anatomy, and what that information can tell us about what to eat and how to move.

Because I chose law school over medical school, I had to learn how to learn science, starting with formulating a hypothesis, studying the process, studying the data, in this case applying it personally (n=1), and seeing if the hypothesis holds up. So here I started with the hypothesis that maybe we should eat like our ancestors ate, since that seemed to have allowed them some survival advantage. I’ve written a whole other blog about all of that; I mention it because it’s the method I’m going to use for this next topic.

Back to evolution. As I study anthropology and what our societies were like before we embraced agriculture, which seems to be a real change in our history, I’m finding that we lived in small, cooperative communities, pooling resources, celebrating together, grieving together, raising children, struggling to understand our environment, finding ways to protect ourselves from the environment and predators. Almost all of these societies, across the globe, had myths and tales about origins of the world, explanations for natural phenomena, and rituals for birth and death. As Americans, our particular pedigree comes from the Abrahamic line, and those rituals and rules over the years have become manifest in contemporary Christianity. The church has provided a place for gathering, to worship, instruction, support, a common agenda – all sating very primal needs.

Sometimes in my discussions with believers, the topic veers from the validity of religion to the usefulness of religion. I absolutely believe that religion can be useful; this blog is about just that. I also believe that its usefulness has no bearing on its truthfulness (please tell me I just invented that phrase).

As I attend secular conventions (AA in April, TAM9 in July, Skepticon 4 in November), and as an avid blog reader, and new activist, I have made the following observations about the secular community:

1. We are intellectuals. We can blog the hell out of any topic, including, but not limited to, gelato. We love the process of language, we love words, we have a unique ability to explain our position, and, thanks to the interwebs, can back it up with citations and references.

2. We own the internet. No shit. It is the single most effective reason atheism is experiencing the growth it is – even evangelicals are acknowledging that.

3. The future of the movement is in the hands of college students – not individual, identifiable people, but as a demographic. It’s the perfect window of age to be free from familial obligations of church attendance and exposure to a broad base of philosophical and social input, yet young enough not to have established personal habits of faith and superstition in their own new families.

4. We are young and we are old. It seems that, both through the blogs and attendance at conventions, that we are comprised of youngs (18-25) and olds (50+). It’s not that we don’t have the middle folks – in my own local group that’s actually a large percentage of our number – it’s just that that group is busy with career and spouses and children that the youngs and the olds don’t have.

5. Community. Online: we have it in spades. Every support group you can imagine – recovering fundamentalists, ex-Mormons, secular parenting. Flesh and blood: not so much. We’re working on it, and we’re getting better at it, but we’re no match for churches. I think that that sense of community, rather than a devotion to the faith itself, is what keeps a lot people in church.

As our evolutionary history tells us, we are social beings. We need to feel included, but individual, protected but not restricted, part of a group yet independent. The contemporary church has provided its version of that; I think the secular movement can do at least that, and even do it better.

My local group of seculars (hereinafter known as: the posse) is heavy on the very group I say the movement as a whole doesn’t have: young adults with families. There are couple of us oldies, and the ubiquitous college agers, but we’re lucky enough to have several young couples and their beautiful, freethinking young children. Which finally brings me to the point of this post: my ~~scheme to take over the world~~ social experiment.

Our posse, instead of just hanging out and sampling the finest hops our town has to offer, is going to add a bit of intention to our efforts. We’re going to try to make our get-togethers a smidge more family-friendly: choosing restaurants that are easier on the wallet, more conducive to child palates (notwithstanding my moratorium on Chuck E Cheese), parties where the children are accommodated with caretakers (perhaps education majors from our local university?), scheduled activities that work around school nights and bedtimes, service projects in which entire families can participate.

So stay tuned for updates — right now I’m on my way to a New Year’s Party with said posse – best wishes to all for 2012!!

December 31, 2011 3

Study Weekend

And law school continues…

It’s so central to my life, I take it for granted everyone else knows about it, til I check and it has been weeks since I mentioned it!

So on it goes. I am closing in on the end of my first year; this program is 4 years, as opposed to most bricks and mortar law schools which are 3. My final exam is December 3, over which I am appropriately freaking out. Then the real fun begins.

Because my school is based in CA, the CA Bar requires the taking of the First Year Law Students Exam (FYLSE), affectionately known as the Baby Bar. It’s a great idea: you can’t continue in school if you don’t pass it. In 3 tries. Well, you CAN, but you get the idea. I begin my second year in January, and don’t take the FYLSE until June 2012 – halfway through my 2nd year!

Both tests consist of 100 multiple choice questions and 3 essays. Easy, right? Sure. Subjects are Torts, Criminal Law, and Contracts. They each have their interesting parts, and each have their tedious parts. The trick is having memorized the rules, the exceptions, and the exceptions to the exceptions, and to be able to analyze and answer the questions, and analyze and write the essays. 1st world problem.

So my study group is a bit unconventional. (I know, big surprise.) We have virtual study sessions where we’re on skype reviewing subjects. Sometimes we’re on the phones, sometimes we’re using email or text. But this past weekend, we went all out.

Our study group met in 1000 Oaks, California, at the home of Charlene and Rick, and their son Kevin. I flew in from TN, and Rosine and Myra drove from Tuscon. We converged on a Friday afternoon, and I don’t really know how, but we managed to squeeze in 4 meals in restaurants, hours of studying, a 2.5 mile walk, at least 4 practice tests, and loads of laughing and socializing, all before I took the redeye out on Sunday!

Charlene and Rick were hosts above all hosts. Here’s a study area:

And here’s our study tshirts:

Then there’s Rick, Char’s long-suffering and patient husband, who waited on the students beyond anyone’s imagination:

And this was the lovely environment in which all this studying took place:

And I can’t leave out Kevin, who gave up his bedroom and bathroom for 2 nights, engaged in a philosophical conversation with me (one of my favorites), let us take over his house for the weekend with no complaint (reminder: he’s 16), and was an all-around good sport about our endless probing questions into his life and interests. And can I also add this boy is a 4.0, AP, perfect SAT, Harvard or Yale prospect track star??

I can’t believe I didn’t get a picture of Sparky, our beagle companion, who added so much to the group dynamic. She had a lot to say, and as she is refining her “size-reduction techniques”, commiserated with the rest of us about the challenges of that!

All in all, we had a wonderful weekend of study and friendship. We hope to do it again in February and April, before our big test in June, and we hope to do at least one of those sessions here in TN. Myra, who is in graduate school, but not law school, says she wants to work on the farm. I said to bring her boots. If we make this happen, we’ll have a throwdown/bonfire for the school posse to meet some of my TN posse.

Our little group before our walk to....breakfast, of course.

Rick, Kevin, Charlene, Myra, Rosine, Sparky — thank you for a fabulous weekend!

Thanks for reading!

October 26, 2011 1

My trip to the Creation Museum

This long quote is by Albert Mohler, the president of Southern Seminary. In a delicious twist of irony, I disagreed with this position when I was a believer; now that I am an atheist, I find myself agreeing with Dr. Mohler:

“From the beginning of this conflict, there have been those who have attempted some form of accommodation with Darwinism. In its most common form, this amounts to some version of “theistic evolution” — the idea that the evolutionary process is guided by God in order to accomplish his divine purposes.

Given the stakes in this public controversy, the attractiveness of theistic evolution becomes clear. The creation of a middle ground between Christianity and evolution would resolve a great cultural and intellectual conflict. Yet, in the process of attempting to negotiate this new middle ground, it is the Bible and the entirety of Christian theology that gives way, not evolutionary theory. Theistic evolution is a biblical and theological disaster.

….

Thus, the vise of evolutionary theory is now revealing the fault lines of the current debate. There can be no question but that the authority of the Bible and the truthfulness of the Gospel are now clearly at stake. The New Testament clearly establishes the Gospel of Jesus Christ upon the foundation of the Bible’s account of creation. If there was no historical Adam and no historical Fall, the Gospel is no longer understood in biblical terms.”

(Emphasis mine, entire text here.)

When I was a believer, I chose not to take a position on the evolution/creation debate. It created internal conflict for me, it wasn’t relevant in my life, I didn’t know what to do with it, so I simply didn’t address it. (I know, right?) I do not believe I was the only Christian who felt this way. Which is what Dr. Mohler’s first two paragraphs are referring to. “Theistic evolution” is such a comfort for moderate, modern, science-minded, reasonable, rational Christians. However, come along on a little virtual field trip with me and see how very very far from that position a portion of the believing population is.

Gayle’s trip to the Creation Museum, Hebron, KY, October 17, 2011

I attended the Free Inquiry Group’s 20th anniversary meeting in Cincinnati, Ohio. I posted about the events of the first day, and I’ll throw in a bit more about the second day in this post. It was delightful and stimulating and inspiring; exactly what I’ve come to expect from a secular gathering!

In particular, on the second day, we listened to Rabbi Robert Barr, who gave a presentation on the Creation Museum. I’ve been interested in this since it opened, enjoyed the coverage given to it in the movie Religulous, and was riveted to Rabbi Barr’s description of it. In addition to that, it was 10 minutes outside of Cincinnati; of course I had to go.

The structure is beautiful – expensive stone, spacious and open lobby, friendly staff. The first thing you notice is all the dinosaurs. Dinosaurs at the entrance, dinosaurs in the foyer, hanging from the ceiling, on the program, on the ticket. These people want you to know that they believe in dinosaurs! Why, here’s one right here…

…beside this child. This human child. This homo sapiens, Paleolithic Era child. But They Believe In Dinosaurs! They only missed it by a few million years. About 230 million. And how do they explain that? How to explain the fossil record? Just listen in to these two scientists discussing their discovery:

“Different conclusions based on where you begin. If you begin with the bible, you end up with a different conclusion.” Boy, howdy.

It’s not really any more complicated than this

Rabbi Barr said that his impression of the museum is that it is a sermon. And not just any sermon. A children’s sermon, with a children’s premise: The Book Says So. There is very little science in this “museum”; just a lot of pictures of good, happy images labelled God’s Word versus negative, bad images labelled Human Reason.

The story of the flood is as important to the story as creation itself. There are a lot of panels about how the flood fits in to modern science – both Pangaea and the Ice Age occurred after the flood. There are thousands of pieces of evidence from thousands of scientists and researchers that disprove this, but remember, all of the panels refer you back to The Bible Said So.

I call this shot: Saddled Triceratops Facepalm

Do I still think there is room for Theistic Evolution? I think it’s better than embracing no evolution at all; I even think it’s where most believers would land if asked. Do I think you can have the idea of Jesus and salvation and redemption without the fall of man in a literal sense? It’s not an argument I would like to spend one more moment of my life thinking about and trying to make sense of. Establish the veracity of the book; then we can discuss the contents.

Get one now for the impressionable children in your life!!

Thanks for reading.

October 19, 2011 1

The Fitness Post

How Finding my Fitness led to my Atheism

How Finding my Atheism led to my Fitness

(This was a guest blog for my friend JT Eberhard, who resides at Scienceblogs. The “everyone” in the first line was directed at his atheist readers, as that was the context in which this was discussed and then written. I’ve written about this before, but never all in one post…so….here it is!)

Everyone of us has one of these stories. Everyone’s is interesting, and everyone’s is different.

It gives me joy beyond measure to recount mine. It may seem like I’m taking license to have the two branches of my story to run so parallel, but it only seems unusual now, after the fact. At the time, it just happened.

In 2000, I turned 40, mother of 4 teenagers, active in church and community. I was also active in my Southern Baptist Church, a Sunday School teacher, Missions Director, and committed to the faith. And 60 pounds overweight.

The evening of my 40th birthday party, surrounded by friends, I came to the conclusion, which later I began to describe as an epiphany:

That the first 40 years of our life, we can treat our body pretty brutally, and it will respond, for the most part, to the demand; the second 40, however, are quite a different story: we have to treat our body with deep respect and reverence in order for it to respond to the demands of life.

I had attempted diets before, lost a few pounds, then, ad nauseam, reverted to old, comfortable, established habits. Walking into the bookstore left me more frustrated than helped, facing the wall of books in the Health/Fitness section, some of which were in direct opposition to the one right next to it. Fuck that.

This was in the year 2000, when the internet was a toddler, and I spent hours at the public library looking up nutrition information, going directly to the study when I could. I don’t have a medical background, or even a degree that was heavy in science (education), so I had a lot of remedial work to do. Maybe that even worked in my favor since I had to start from scratch understanding human anatomy, physiology, metabolism, nutrients.

For two years I applied what I learned to my routine, tweaked, applied, and tweaked some more. I lost 60 pounds, and became so interested in and excited about my new lifestyle I became a trainer to try to help others struggling with health issues.

images-2 — Clipboard: yes. Whistle: not so much.

Parallel to this information-gathering, exercise-implementing, nutrition-experimenting journey was a gradual, slow, dawning of realization relating to religion. While I had never been an actual creationist, I was a believer of the Bible, an advocate of a personal savior, even a teacher in my church. My view of the beginning of human history was that whether it was Eden or evolution, Goddidit, and resolving the particulars was irrelevant to me.

As I began my study of nutritive science, however, I found that I needed to study our human anatomy and physiology to make sense of the process. That in turn led me to study our evolutionary heritage: what were we to eat to make us truly thrive? What had we eaten for the thousands of years that we did thrive? While the answer was simple: whole, unprocessed, fairly accessible natural foods, the implication was greater. Evolution was an absolute, undisputed by any scientist, and the evidence was abundant. Hmmmm. Not a show-stopper for the faith, but certainly a proverbial chink in the wall.

I visited Christian apologetics sites and read several books trying to reconcile my new acceptance of evolution with the broader picture of my faith. I knew there were Christians who accepted, even embraced evolution, and I was eager to understand how I was to do this. It was completely contradictory to the version of humanity’s beginnings in the Bible. The general explanation was that the events that occurred in Genesis were “poetic”, not literal, that they were representative of God’s relationship to us. Hmmmm. Again. My next question was: When did the poetry end and the reality begin? Noah? Abraham? David? The apologists diverted at this point: some said that during the course of evolution when we became modern humans, the history then became literal. Some said that the poetry continued through most of the Old Testament. But most certainly they all agreed that when Jesus entered the picture, why then it was all literal.

Or.

Not.

The brevity and simplicity of the paragraphs above belie the drama and torment of the process. In sharing stories with other atheists, I have heard from former believers who left the faith kicking and screaming, who begged God for a word, who didn’t want to be atheists, who fought for years against acceptance of the truth. While mine was not quite so vehement, it was painful, it was sorrowful, it was traumatic, and it was humbling. I had to grieve anew those folks I had only said goodbye to “temporarily” – my grandparents, some friends. I had to recollect every Sunday School lesson I had ever taught with confidence and arrogance. I had to grasp the separation this was going to create with my already fractured extended family. I had to reevaluate my morality. I had to redirect my compassion and drive and creativity and time that for years and years I had devoted to my church.

But do not misunderstand me. Although the journey was unnerving and unknown, it was thrilling and exciting and liberating. My 4 teenage children had been making journeys of their own in the same direction, and we spent countless hours discussing and debating and researching toward the same conclusion. This brought me absolute, sheer delight. Watching their beautiful brains develop their critical thinking skills and refuse to accept dogma made me as proud as their mother as I had ever been.
I love reading former believers’ coming out stories. I love commiserating with the struggles and rejoicing in the victories. I feel the pain of lost relationships and the joy of new discoveries. This is mine. I am honored to share it.

Thanks for reading.

October 18, 2011 2

The Joyful Atheist

Sometimes we have to be reminded of the simplest things.

This post has been rolling around my brain for days. In all of my passion to explain WHY I believe what I believe, I have neglected to express how it feels to believe what I believe.

In the skeptic movement, we are cautious about using “feelings” as a guide for believing things; our feelings, while wonderful and life-enhancing, are not reliable as a source of confirmation or evidence. Sometimes the concept of a premise is so appealing, gives us comfort, “feels” good to think about, we embrace it in spite of its unrealistic nature. The result of this falls on the scale somewhere between Harmless (believing in fairies) and Dangerous (believing in prayer over medicine or treatment). Therefore, we skeptics tend to underemphasize feelings when we discuss our rational belief system. This filter serves us well in examining and deciding what is reasonable, what is rational. But it doesn’t tell the rest, and best, of the story.

With that security feature in place, with the recognition that our emotions are integral to our humanity, but not as a source of reality confirmation, one can then plunge in to our deep, rich, abundant emotional frosting with abandon. And that brings me to the subject of today’s post.

Often atheists are accused of being sad because Life Has No Meaning. We’re told we are Don’t Have Any Reason To Live. It’s been said we are Angry All Of The Time. Admittedly, we may have said something to add to that perception, but more often than not, those are just old, recirculated dogma that won’t go away. I hang out with atheists. I read volumes by atheists. I AM an atheist. The atheists I know, and I, myself, are none of those things. We, as a group, an awfully diverse, fiercely independent group, live lives of reflection, and thoughtfulness, and intention, and joy. And as a nod to the “fiercely independent” descriptor, I’m now going to transition away from atheists as a group to atheist as me.

My life is similar to everyone else’s: I’ve got family drama, health issues, financial challenges, obstacles to my goals and dreams – the usual shopping list. I am humbled by the knowledge that I am more fortunate than 99% of the people who have ever been ON the planet, having been born an American, in the 20th century, into a middle-class family. I know how incredibly fortunate I am. That knowledge alone is cause for a feeling of thankfulness that I’m reminded of several times a day.

When you add to that the joy I experience every new day, through relationships with friends and family, through taking care of and enjoying my body, through learning and reading and discovering, through physical sensations of sounds, and tastes, and sights, through challenges and achievements, through a sense of community with humanity, through helping others and others helping me, I am often overwhelmed by feelings of happiness, and of joy, and of meaning.

While I cannot always be in control of external circumstances, I have an underlying, overall constant sensation of peace and joyfulness, a sensation which is counterintuitive to a world view that admits that life is chaotic and random and, inherently, meaningless.

I was recently asked whether I had a peace that passed all understanding, a reference to Philippians 4:7 “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus”. My answer is No. I have a peace that I DO understand. There is tremendous peace in knowing and understanding how the universe functions. There is joy and peace in the predictability of the laws of physics and science, of the constants on which we depend, and a recognition that that stability is not hindered by an ever-changing body of data, but enhanced by it.

And if I and others in the atheist community don’t allow this to show, shame on us. Deeply imbedded in our embrace of ration and reason as a world view, is an awe and respect and wonder of the nature of our environment, our species, and our world.

“We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Arabia. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here.” Richard Dawkins

Wow. There’s that joy again.

Thanks for reading.

October 11, 2011 2

Wonder what the forest is like? A first blog.

So Aden and I have spent the day together. We’ve decided to blog about it. Aden took all the pictures and was keeper of the camera on our walk. I’ll do the techie work, and the captions for the photos, and Aden will do the heavy lifting of the blogging:

Look closely to see the Daddy Long Legs on the screen

We saw a big grandaddy longlegs and it was strange because it had slanted legs. I don’t think it was a grandaddy longlegs at all.

A rock formation at the beginning of our stroll. We didn't reach in.

I like this hole in the rock. I wish I could be a bunny, and hop right in.

He is such a beautiful horse. I love him very much. His nose is soft.

I think this is a deer print, but it could be a cow. It’s too little for a cow print, and the donkeys don’t have a split hoof. That’s why I think it’s a deer print.