Finding odd comfort in watching the late Christopher Hitchens debate theists on youtube. I have decided he must have regretted the lame essay on women and humor, so C.H. and I can be square and I can continue in this habit.
It does seem both the old religions and new age enjoy as fuel the endless store of human fear. Imagine there is randomness, and farce, and pain that is not useful; imagine neither God nor your Higher Self can protect you from it.
But it is not to be imagined, even momentarily, for the people run back to a story that explains how God “chose” to take a young life back to heaven, or that soul just “chose” to have a brief encounter on earth … And then no one has to feel the vulnerability of standing thin-skinned and fallible on the face of a spinning planet.
So many stories and talking over and feverish prayers and fearful candles to avoid what, precisely? Saturating in the feeling of vulnerability? That would seem the fundamental prerequisite to growing up.