There's something lurking behind that word

Greta Christina has a nice piece up, "Atheism and Self-Definition," which got me thinking about words and definitions and battles over same. She's talking about something every atheist has probably experienced -- having the word defined for us, despite our protestations to the contrary.

Mostly, I find myself fascinated by how words can have so much lurking behind

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them.

As Greta notes, one of the most powerful acts an individual or movement can make is self-definition, and we've been hard at work at it with the word "atheist." Any look at the history of the word will send you down a rabbit hole of confusion and head-spinning. What did people in earlier times mean by the word? It can be hard to say, but I can say this:  it was a lot more than the spartan definition of "no belief in a god or gods." In fact, it seems like it has often meant something like "a wholesale denial and repudiation of everything that we value and hold to be true." It meant Evil and Anarchism, dogs and cats sleeping together... I mean, people back in the day called Thomas Paine an atheist!

So one side of the conversation has really weighed this word down. And we are trying to redefine it. Now, many times we will do that by whittling it down. We proclaim the most basic definition, a lack of belief in a god or gods, and say "no more than that!" Not a positive declaration that there is no God, but rather simply a statement that we just don't believe.

But honestly, we're also adding to the word, too. Go read those New Atheist bestsellers. Go take a peek at the atheist blogosphere. Modern Atheism has some definite features that go beyond "No belief in a god or gods." There's Humanism. There's Skepticism. There's Philosophical and Practical Naturalism.

The real battle, in a sense, isn't just the definition of the word -- it's all that stuff lurking behind it. We have our set of lurking ideas; they have theirs.

Or, to put it another way:  for us, atheism is a funny ol' thing these days, because it's really -- if we take that simple, stripped down definition we talk about -- such a very small part of who we are. That other stuff is where we're at. It's what we're about. Atheism? It's just a description for our stance on a particular idea that many folk seem to think is Very Important. It's not where we start from; it's just one of the places we end up. Just a description, folks. I'm male, I'm a sexy dude, I'm an atheist...

I kinda think, though, that many theists think the God issue is where they start from. It certainly seems as if many folk hang pretty much everything on the notion: Morality, meaning, love, you name it.  So they tend to think of atheism in those terms. We must think it's really damn important, too! Only, funny thing is, we're often not quite on the same page with them on that one. Because of all that lurking stuff behind the word.

I guess someone could say that we shouldn't use the word, precisely because of all the lurking stuff and the problems it creates. But to me it seems like we're pretty much stuck with it. So we redefine it, and keep at it, and hopefully, eventually, we get folks to see all that other stuff.

A worldview that says "yes"

The theme of this here little blog covers a bit of territory. The proscenium in question can be that of humanity -- the way we as a species view ourselves and the Cosmos. It can also be a lot more personal. I've been thinking a lot about that aspect -- about the lens that I view the world through, and myself. If I had to summarize the downside of my life so far, it has been that my personal proscenium has been far too small. My stage is tiny and encompasses little. That is one of the results, I think, of the depression I suffered from for years. Depression makes your world small -- it collapses inwards until it seems like you are stuck in your head. In the last few years, as I've taken good, strong steps to conquer that old nemesis, I've had to learn whole new ways of looking at the world. Heck, I've had to learn to really look at the world!

The best way to make your worldview small, to collapse that proscenium into the tiniest size possible, is to say "no." On a personal level, it can be "no, I can't do this" and "no, I'm certainly not capable of that." Or "no, I should not be like that" or "no, what I am is wrong." There's countless ways to formulate it, countless ways to commit suicide by a thousand tiny cuts.

What's sad is that, if you want to live like that, society will give you a lot of help. Societies have always found it easier to control through prohibition than through inspiration. Don't do this, don't do that, certainly don't do THAT.  Religion is often the willing accomplice, making up prohibitions that have no possible logical reason for existing. Prohibitions against homosexuality? Any logic there? No. Against certain kinds of dress? Nope, not there either. But logic is never the point -- having an arbitrary rule is. A litany of no's. No to this, no to that, don't do that.

On the personal level, the no's a person comes up with for themselves can be every bit as arbitrary and stupid. And, of course, they often take forms created by the culture at large.

Which brings me to Humanism, and what makes it special to me. It is a worldview that is founded in the word "yes." It's about possibility. It's about growing and encouraging growth, about celebrating difference and individuality as strengths rather than as threats. Instead of "no," it says "yes" and "why not?" Being an atheist, being a humanist, has not created any sort of deep, existential crisis for me. I don't think, wow, how depressing. I find it liberating and full of hope. Because at the end of the day, it says, "yes." It's a nice way to beat down the sad litany that I drummed into my own head for so many years.

Reality's simple joys

Sometimes, working weekends really, really sucks. Friday and Saturday nights gone, or at least mostly so. Missed opportunities for socializing, having fun. Last night, for instance, I could've been at my sister's, hanging out with cool people. Instead, work, noon to 9:30pm. Gah.

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I can perhaps be forgiven if, while I was biking home, I was feeling a bit cranky and dissolute. The weather didn't help -- the whole day had been a big build up to a storm that didn't happen, the air always tingling with suppressed energy waiting to be released, and...nothing.

So, I'm biking home, and on the western horizon is a sight you can't claim to see too often -- a huge, and I mean huge, crescent Moon, burning through a wisp of cloud above the Tucson Mountains. I've always had this weird thing with the Moon -- seeing it relaxes me, awakens that sense of awe that can sometimes get pummelled down by the relentless march of the mundane in our everyday lives. The Moon is so amazing. Earth's companion, one that has shaped this world and the life on it. A big dose of beauty in our night sky. Something that 12 of us have voyaged to and stood upon.

The Moon is a constant presence in our lives, and so we are always imbuing it with meaning. From ancient mythologies to modern Moon races, it's a focus of a lot of human thought. Maybe that's why it's so comforting to me -- it's not only an amazing natural phenomena, but it makes me think of some of the important things in human life.

So I stopped, and gazed at the Moon for a while, and some of that ick feeling faded away, and I remembered my day and all the little interactions with people that were fun and sweet and nice, and it all didn't seem so bad.

Of course, I got home and into my apartment, and some of the icky angsty feeling came back. The moments of quiet sanity can be so short. But it's nice to have them. No supernatural, no Big Man in the Sky saying he loves me -- just a quiet moment with a bit of reality. It's a healing thing.