Oh, god, not again...

In the past few months I've faced some tough decisions. I know I'll be faced with more. But at the end of the day, I find the randomness of a godless existence much less troubling than the alternative. TO and I have survived several family tragedies together. At the time, as believers, we really had to fight feelings of guilt. Maybe we didn't pray hard enough. Maybe our mezuzot were pasul. Etc, etc. Now, looking back, I feel free of that. My actions had no bearing on these events, and neither did my husband's. So even though I may at times feel rudderless, bad things that happen to me are either due to my own mistakes or chance. Not the vengeance of a temperamental, cruel god. So too with evil on a greater scale, from wars to natural disasters.

I think that the concept of "tzadik v'ra lo" is one of the main things that makes me glad to be a skeptic. I never minded keeping most of the laws -- while I believed, the sacrifice was not too great. But now, I've judged God more harshly than I did in the past. Bottom line is, if this is what God is like, I don't believe in Him. So why should I listen to him?

Of course, there are other proofs that point to there being no god, and specifically that the Jewish god does not exist. But I don't feel the need to go into them right now. There isn't much concrete evidence, and there are logical proofs for and against. I don't have any really interesting reasons to be an atheist. But I think it's interesting that, less than two years after my first skeptical thought, I pretty much am one. And that it's so liberating. It really wipes so much of the guilt. It doesn't automatically point to hedonism. I'm much too busy for that. But it makes life simpler overall, and that's good for me.

Honesty

Update to this post: Yesterday I ate treif chicken. I was mildly nervous when I bought it, but when it came time to eat it, I just ... did. It felt like nothing. It tasted like chicken. I didn't feel like I did anything wrong (and I don't believe I did either, otherwise I wouldn't have done it, obviously). I didn't feel anything, apart from no longer hungry.

A little anti-climactic really. But if I'm really honest with myself, I've never really felt anything spiritual.

The Shabbat laws broken while I was in labor (ones I wasn't meant to break) -- nothing.
All those times davening at the kotel, trying desperately to feel something, anything -- nothing.
Hell, any davening at any time, trying to act as if someone was actually listening -- nothing.

I was well aware that I wasn't spiritual. I always thought my Judaism was based on logic and an emotional connection to God. But really, was anything ever there at all, or was I just telling myself that there was? I'm inclined to think that is was the latter. I think I was a skeptic all along; I just didn't know it.

It does make me feel a little sad that I really don't care. I do feel like I've lost something. I mean, I don't dislike Judaism overall. I think there are lots of positive things about it. And part of me would rather care about it and be part of it. But it's just a small part. Ultimately I'd rather know the truth, even if it means I have to make my own way.

Warning: ramble ahead

I haven't posted for a long time, I know. I've been busy but the main reason I guess is that I'm not really sure what I want to write. Sometimes I get ideas before I fall asleep but I always forget them before I wake up. So where am I at? Have I reached a new milestone? Is being indifferent better for my mental health?

The truth is, I might be indifferent to this blog (temporarily), but I'm not indifferent to skepticism. TO and I still talk about it a lot, of course. I think about it all the time. I guess what I'm trying to work out is what it means to be connected without believing. Most of the time, I don't really feel Jewish, but I don't feel not Jewish either. I just feel like me. But there are still things I want to do. It was so important for me to get to megilla reading tonight. Why? Is it just habit? Or fear of getting caught out being less frum than I used to be? Do I even care about what other people think? (I know the answer to that question -- I do sometimes.)

The afternoon I was walking down the street with a religious friend and we passed a small group of people who were obviously Israelis, not frum. They looked relaxed and happy. My friend and I just ignored them and they ignored us, but I was thinking to myself that in some way I'd like to be like them. Secular. Not overdressed on a Saturday afternoon. But still with an inescapable connection to Jewishness.

After we passed them it occurred to me that I could have said "Shabbat Shalom" and they probably would have appreciated it. I didn't not say it for any particular reason; it simply didn't occur to me. But the fact that it didn't occur to me in time bothers me.

I've often walked past people (men and women) more religious than me and been ignored when I said "Good Shabbos". Depending on my mood, I either let it slide or say, "I said, Good Shabbos" really loudly. Either way, I find it offensive to be ignored in that fashion. And I don't care if another Jew is religious or secular. So I'd like to greet either type (or anyone in between) in the same way.

Anyway, I'm not really sure where all of this is going. I think what I'm trying to say is that I still have a long way to go before I'm the person I want to be Jewishly. It's going to take a long time before I can not look down on Reform. Before I can work out why I won't eat treif meat but I'll turn on lights on Shabbat. There aren't necessarily concrete arguments to be made here. To me the proofs are already there and not really disputable. But the emotional side of things, the emancipation from my previous mindset, that's what's ahead for me.