A day in my life.
I awaken from a state of sleep, arise and dress and prepare for a new day.
As I take my early morning walk the sun begins to show a golden glow in the east, through the mist of an early morning fog that encompasses everything around me. There is a chill in the July midwinter air and excess moisture drips from the leaves of gum trees that I pass.
I see a rabbit disappearing down a burrow, and there’s a
kangaroo or is it a wallaby in the distance, and I hear the call
of a kookaburra with the familiar warble of awakening magpies
beginning a new day. Life abounds in a multitude of shapes and
sizes since time immemorial, as they prepares to live a new day,
to forage for food, to become strong, all for only one reason,
the purpose of eventual reproduction. My mind can hardly
appreciate the thousands upon thousands of times this cycle of
life, for every animal, every human, every piece of vegetation
that exists, has taken place.
At the base of a tree is the harsh reminder of nature, brought
home with a pile of feathers strewn at the base of a gum tree. In
order to live, some must die and a mockery of "god is
love" passes through my mind. How many creatures were torn
asunder last night? How many humans world -wide were slain? This
is not creative love - this is sadism by an all-powerful monster
creator, if one exists. I try to eradicate these thoughts from my
mind before the stupidity of the foolishness of a god-fearing
humanity, dominates my mind.
The early morning mist gives way to the rising warmth of the sun
and in the distance the trees and shrubs that I recognise so well
look almost new, as though I were sighting them for the first
time. How full of wonder it is to be alive.
Now home, I settle down to breakfast, accompanied by the
television telling of all the new horrors that have taken place
locally and internationally. As each conflict is reported, a
religious responsibility for them arises and I can’t help
but wonder why the mainstream community has never made the
connection. My heart is saddened for those who suffer and those
in opposition. My joy in having rejected superstitious beliefs
somehow overcomes the feelings of guilt that the religious
believers should have but do not.
Today is Sunday, and while billions of other people all over the
world will be mumbling to their god, I am contemplating for a
moment what I would think of if I were a god, and what effect a
few billion or so whining, winging and kneeling servants would
have on me. They do not know deep down if I as a god really
exists, but the fear of being punished forever in eternity in my
hell, have too strong a hold on them. What a sad and
frightened lot is my human creation?
As I bring my mind back to reality I think of how
indoctrinated and manipulated many people are and how they are
unable to think for themselves and it make me so glad and happy
to not be one of them.
As I stroll into the village to purchase the Sunday papers I pass
by the ample supply of churches, I notice that some have many
people and some are almost empty. Profound happiness enters my
consciousness at having escaped the cultural absurdities of
worshipping a make believe god. My good fortune in this can only
be described as beyond belief.
To be born of a single sperm that impregnated the ovum of my
mother in a sea of millions of other sperm is like winning the
lottery, then to be able to live for an average life span is
another, and to be able to think any thoughts I like without
guilt or compromise, is the lottery of all lotteries. This makes
me a grand winner.
The rest of my day is taken up with the usual processes, and my
mind is away from the continual reminders of supposedly godly
things that are constantly pushed before the public, such
thoughts I try not to entertain.
The pleasure of a quiet meal with my wife, writing to a few
friends via e-mail, another attempt at fixing something in need
of repair, phoning a family member, writing a new song as I strum
my guitar, and just contemplating the joy of living, leaves ones
mind in a state of comfort and serenity.
As the day draws to a close, night has arrived, and the rain is
softly patting on the rooftop. The television has stopped being
entertaining for me and now shows the late programs and it is
time to retire for the day.
As I lay in bed before sleep overcomes me, I contemplate the
events of the day. My very last thoughts, before I am unconscious
once again, revolve around my incredible fortune of arriving at a
position of actually seeing life as life really is. The make
believe phantoms of a religious world that continue to unleash
havoc among many of us does not exist for me. How I wish that
millions more could have a day like mine.
Jim Lee.
Sunday 21st July. 2002
Northern rivers area. Australia.
My web site. "Escape the Dogma." http://www.geocities.com/inexileau/index.html