The Agnostic Shift.

I am trying desperately to understand God, and the universe we live in.

Catholic Roots

I came into the world to Catholic parents. I left the church unceremoniously. I didn’t receive my confirmation – the coming of age ceremony in Catholicism – and it was my choice. I chose not to get confirmed because I wasn’t ready yet. I decided it would be better to wait to take up the call of “soldier of Christ” as they put it to me. I was not ready for that kind of responsibility. It sounded heavy and I took these kinds of commitments very seriously.

As a child (and in many ways as an adult), I was never one to go along with something that didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t understand why I had to pledge allegiance to the flag when I was in kindergarten so I mouthed the words instead. I refused to lend my voice – my soul – to something like that without understanding. I was not willing to continue baseball because it didn’t make sense to me why I would want to put myself in harm’s way of an hard object traveling  50+ miles per hour. Saying “grace” to me, made no sense. Didn’t get it, never heard of it and still got in trouble for it when I refused to go along with it.

And so with all of these unanswered questions and other bewilderments floating around between my ears I sure as hell wasn’t going to commit to being a solider of anything. I was not in this to slay. I don’t know why I was in it actually. All I know is that I called out to God to perform some tricks for me with wind in the breezeway in the projects at Burma Rd. when I was a kid, and it didn’t quite work out the way I expected. And I was confused because God was supposed to answer your prayers, right?

I didn’t expect the pastor of our church to be drunk either. He just was. And I didn’t understand it or like it. It didn’t seem fair to me and I wanted him to be more serious about what he was doing. And after a while the whole thing just seemed stupid to me. Especially when I wanted answers from my mother about what was going on with our family when she and my father separated. And about other things too. I would watch her pray to her god for help. And I was angry about it. I didn’t get it. I thought she was weak for depending on something that wasn’t there and couldn’t help her as such.

And so I walked away, probably around 13 years old. I became an atheist (though I would in no way admit to that at the time for fear of the consequences) and it served me for a while. It put the weight of the world on my shoulders while simultaneously lifting it off of my shoulders. In some ways I became freer – nothing mattered. And in that came the rub. The poles shifted in my life and I know I can’t express, explain or even describe in any meaningful way what the rub was, it was significant.

Then I met my friend. We’ll call him “The Alien.” He is not derived from any definable archetype that I know of. He broke the mold. I’ve never met anyone else like him and I doubt I ever will. I met him on a warm night in line for a show in Hollywood where BT would perform. He seemed cool. And hell, I was networking with anyone and everyone in LA that I could to get ahead and make things happen. So I went out for pizza with the guy up at California Pizza Kitchen in Canoga Park. We became friends. From that moment on my whole perception of reality started to change drastically.

And for the record I’m not saying this guy is a real alien or anything. I’m just saying that if there’s anyone who is, it’s him.

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