Re: Lucid Dreaming and Religion
Posted: 14 Dec 2017 18:48
I like ice cream; but, if it's to cold, it makes my ivory bone fangs hurt
Wake Up to Conscious Dreaming
DreamerMan99 wrote:Oblivion would be better than rebirth in a realm where you have everything forever. How many years in a world with everything would pass before you've done it all and are completely miserable? What does love mean when that person can be around you for not hundreds, not thousands, but infinite amount of years? The idea of Heaven has always seemed more like Hell to me.
Even Hell. How many years of torture and pain do you need before the ego completely dissociates from the mind and you simply become nothing.
I remember in a videogame I once played, Skyrim, there was this plane of existence where souls were banished for an eternity. They would be there so long that they'd become mad hollows and eventually just no longer have any recollection of what they were, what was important to them, where they were.
Summerlander wrote:Perhaps even the secular are partial to the aforementioned trauma. I come from a Catholic background but something happened when I was a child which made me question my inherited belief. It made me go from questioning God's motives to agnosticism, and later, as my inquisitive mind demanded that I search for substantial answers (when science began to resonate with me), atheism.
I remember questioning God's motives as a child, His silence, and specifically His absence when He should have acted. I was enrolled in a school run by strict nuns and witnessed two of them tell a young boy his parents must make arrangements for his baptism or he would go to hell. Subsequently they left the boy to his pensive sadness and, eventually, the taunting clamour from other children that he'd burn in hell triggered a lachrymose episode which had a profound impact on me as I observed the scene.
I remember wondering why the other kids didn't seem to experience the empathy I felt for someone in that terrible predicament. I imagined myself having been denied access to heaven as things currently stood--rejected by the 'good side'. Then I wondered why God had not intervened. Even as a child myself I could see that it wasn't the boy's fault. Surely the perfectly good and all-knowing God could see this and make an exception?
As I grew older, doubt began to kick in, especially when I heard some adults expressing their disbelief in God, which used to upset my church-going mother. 'Adults are not sure about God's existence?' I thought. And it began to dawn on me that they had a point that seemed to make sense given God's silence. (Of course, my mother used to tell me that God stopped talking to people like in Biblical times because, despite caring about us, He was deeply dismayed with mankind.) I suppose I stumbled upon a better epistemology and philosophising on the matter further begged questions such as why God would create us sinful and then censure us in order to fulfil His brand of 'justice'.
I don't recall an 'Aha!' moment when I suddenly realised that there is no God. (But I have noticed that I am happier now with the fact that I no longer believe there is a Big Boss watching me 24/7 and feel free to be curious about the world and search for rational explanations without somebody ruining it by saying, 'God made it!')
Some people remember a precise moment when they became atheists--or perhaps a realisation that one is really an atheist if one is going to be honest with oneself! Such is the case of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, an author from Somalia who escaped the murderous clutches of Islam having committed apostasy. In an essay she wrote for The Portable Atheist by Christopher Hitchens, she describes the moment which is akin to the emergence of lucidity in a dream:
'I was an atheist. An apostate. An infidel. I looked in a mirror and said out loud, in Somali, "I don't believe in God." I felt relief. There was no pain but a real clarity. The long process of seeing the flaws in my belief structure, and carefully tip-toeing around the frayed edges as parts of it were torn out piece by piece--all that was over. The ever-present prospect of Hellfire lifted, and my horizon seemed broader. God, Satan, angels: these were all figments of human imagination, mechanisms to impose the will of the powerful on the weak. From now on I could step firmly on the ground that was under my feet and navigate based on my own reason and self-respect. My moral compass was within myself, not in the pages of a sacred book.'
Summerlander wrote:Religion isn't just for weak minds. It strives to keep all minds weak for submission and exploitation. Even those minds with the potential courage of free thought. It leaves everyone vulnerable. It takes your right to defend yourself. You are deemed unworthy and in need of salvation. It makes you think life is some kind of test. Religion, at its worst, destroys lives every day.
RedKryptonite wrote: What started me on the path to questioning my religion is my traumatic childhood experience with bullies. I was never what you'd call a "normal kid." I was socially awkward,fat,mentally unstable,introverted and a total computer/video game geek.