Date: November 27, 2017 02:06AM
I feel like I'm living the highest, best, most noble and honest and loving life possible, by following my conscience, obeying the Ten Commandments, the Golden Rule, and the Laws of the Land. I'm considerate of others.
Mormonism crushed me, and the Mormon abuse my children and I suffered was too severe for us to "get over." I have PTSD, and the few times I have forced myself to enter a Mormon church for a baptism, baby blessing, or funeral, I have become physically ill, and so depressed, that I couldn't go to work for two days after. The bottom line is--the price is too high.
I feel almost as uncomfortable in any religious, closed-door, large group situation, especially if people start asking me personal questions. I have to run away!
I have a place in the canyon behind our house, which I call "The Cathedral", which is a circle of trees that meet at the top, like a high dome. It is outdoors, out in nature, where I am free to come and go (with my dog), and where I can pray silently. I worship love, joy, beauty, beautiful music, Nature, The Universe, an ant hill, all of life. Uplifting poems are my new scriptures, which I keep on my night stand. Knowledge is my new "wisdom". I'm comfortable with ambiguity. I'll keep asking questions, understanding that I will never get all the answers. Science is what I worship now. I am happier and more at peace, than I have ever been!
Some of the most wonderful people I have ever known and loved have been Atheists. There is no need for organized religion.
Sometimes posters talk about worshiping and socializing in the same breath.
For social contacts, and a sense of belonging, I have my family, my two extended families, work and colleagues there, schools and volunteer work, the community, a group of childhood friends, University friends, music friends, ski friends, etc. The demands of these groups ebb and flow, with the times, but none of them drain the life out of me, like Mormonism did. The attention I pay to my children is out of love, because they are my life. The time I put into my career pays me back in providing a living for us, plus I help others.
I feel almost superstitious--like I should throw salt over my shoulder--when I say that I don't need organized religion.