There were already some holes in my disbelief system. I never really examined them because I thought they were irrelevant. First, when I was four years old, I was attacked by the Closet Monster. Undoubtedly an extremely vivid dream, but my brain has chosen to file it in the “Really Happened” section. To this day, closets must be wide open and where I can see them.
There was also this annoying tendency toward animism; specifically, fairies. Every plot of land, flowering bush and toaster has fairies that guard over them. First religions were animistic. This is hardwired into the animal, I told myself. Our human brains have to put things in order; we are compelled to see patterns where none exist. If we cannot find a pattern, we make one up and call this faith or, more accurately, superstition. As long as it doesn’t cloud my logic and nobody sees, I can pay deference to the fairies and no harm done. Right?
Oh, yeah, I see dead people. Ghosts. I’ve seen them my whole life. Every place I’ve lived has had some sort of ghostly phenomena. A lot of people see ghosts. They’re not like Bigfoot or aliens or Elvis. People have been seeing ghosts for millennia, so I wasn’t even going to run that one through the skept-O-meter. One day, ghosts will be explained by science.
Basically, I am a total fraud. A hardcore proselytizing atheist who believes in ghosts, fairies and the Closet Monster. Just as backward and superstitious as any evangelical Christian. Sometimes being human is annoying.
I still don’t believe in god. That’s just crazy.