Zen and the Art of Nothingness

I get emails from time to time from you readers who ask what my spiritual background is and where I stand today. I guess I do throw out a lot of mixed signals, and generally come off as a hard core atheist.

I grew Catholic. I even worked in a Catholic seminary for ten years,(for those who read yesterdays post the jobs there were switchboard operator, librarian, night watchman) not teaching by the way. That was enough to make anyone question their faith. The shit I saw go on there would amaze the average church attendee.

From there I studied Christianity. I listened to the late night radio preachers on AM radio. The carrier waves would make their trip up north to my radio from WWVA in West Virginia and other 50 thousand watt stations from North Carolina would beam in as well. This got me reading the bible, but I found so much conflicting information there so in a short time I decided it was all bull shit.

In my mid 20s WNEW FM, a New York progressive rock station would play a 45 minute Alan Watts lecture at 6:15 am every Sunday. I got in the habit of setting a timer to record every Watts lecture, and I still have a drawer full of tapes.

The better part of this Sunday ritual was leaving the house just before the broadcast began. I drove to New York City for breakfast every Sunday. I’d listen to Watts as I drove. I always had to take the George Washington Bridge because I’d lose the signal if I took the tunnel. I’d near my favorite café’ as his show ended.

Sunday mornings in New York were always magical. I couldn’t stand the city the rest of the time, but Sunday mornings were at time I could be there. After breakfast I’d either do something in the city or drive back home listening to Vin Skelsa. It was a wonderful time in my life.

So I ate up all the Eastern philosophy I could, but one day I had enough of it, and I realized that there is really nothing out there. It was evident with all the pain and suffering, and injustice. All the miracles that had been reported since the beginning of time were actually nothing out of the ordinary. Sure the stories are fun as is an Ouiji Board, but that doesn't make it real.

Now I’m not trying to convince you believers out there that there is nothing, and I’m not trying to convince the non believers there is something. There is simply nothing for me and I'm totally OK with that. There is nothing I can do about it either way.

I do find it funny that I never believed in Santa Clause, and I knew that by age 4, yet I believed in God until I was in my mid 20s. Santa makes more sense to me now than God does. For some people the changing leaves or a beautiful day is enough proof for them that there is a monotheistic deity that keeps everything going. To me, I feel that no one could ever be that much of a control freak and micro-manager.

So which ever side of the fence you are on I will conclude this article with a tale of two deaths.

It is said that the night Alan Watts died he was sitting on his couch tossing a balloon into the air. He said, “This balloon feels like the spirit leaving my body.” He died moments later.

When physicist Richard Fenyman was on his death bed, one of his graduate students asked, “Richard, you have been a lifelong atheist, if you meet God when you die, what will you say to him?” Fenyman replied, “I’ll ask why he never presented any proof.”