Posted by: eaubeauhorn | February 4, 2009

Belief and Evidence

I was alone with myself in the shower this morning (maybe that’s why people sing in the shower….one of the few places where we can be alone with ourselves) and I was musing on the death thing. Again; or maybe that’s “still.”

I was reared Catholic, in the old blood-and-guts Latin modality. Went to parochial school, with Draconian Franciscan nuns in attendance. Not their fault, the Draconian-ness; they had no choice really, stuck in a mode where women simply took orders from men, those men being in direct contact with God and having the last word in all of it. In retrospect I feel sorry for them, trying their best against overwhelming odds. My first grade class had 60 students and one Sister Anthony. I heard she had a nervous breakdown a few years later; not surprising.

The Christianity I learned from the nuns had to do with stories of how the Communists would cut out the tongues of children who dared speak of Jesus; would puncture their eardrums with chopsticks if they dared listen about Jesus. There was a lot about martyrdom and how that was the best you could aspire to. Becoming a Saint was of course the very, very highest, but martyrdom was the most direct route to sainthood. I knew I could never be so perfect, as all of us, and thus the struggle to be perfect enough to avoid burning forever in Hell.

The Catholic focus was on the Crucifixion, all the blood and cruelty and the dieing for us; not about the Resurrection, which should have been the message. No wonder that so many people of that era describe themselves as Recovering Catholics. I’m sure the Church has changed somewhat, not that I’m there to hear about it. Sometime in high school I rejected it completely, baby and bathwater combined. And so I rolled along until The Great Cancer Scare in my mid-forties, and the quest to find out about death ensued.

Now we’re back to the shower this morning. I realized that despite the last fifteen years of reading, seeking, meditating, taking workshops to meet my Higher Self and my Guides and my Spirit Helpers and whatnot, I have not really budged my core belief decided upon in high school, that when you die, you’re dead. Kaput; gone, pfft, lights out. You see, during my innocent years in grade school, while I was still swallowing the church line, I believed; I tried; I talked to Jesus; I asked for forgiveness; I begged for some clue. But I got…nothing; not even in a dream, no message from Jesus that He actually did love me as I had been taught. So in high school I decided I had been deceived and none of it was true, based on evidence.

What is there if not evidence? Everything in your core beliefs comes from the decisions of what evidence to believe. The Materialists, even if they were to have the World’s Most Outstanding OBE, would likely still decide that the experience was merely interesting electrical activity in the brain. The people who are Saved (well, the ones who aren’t afraid of death, and they are rare) have decided to believe what they read in the Bible as sufficient evidence for them.

And I….well, I thought I believed in an Afterlife, but based on this morning’s shower it appears that I don’t, really. And I don’t know that there is anything that could budge that belief if fifteen years of trying has not succeeded. I’ve reached a point where I find it amusing when I express doubts to my believer friends, because of the entirely predictable reaction. It’s along the lines of “just relax and you’ll get some results” or “do this meditation exercise and you’ll get results” or whatever. Well, you know, I’ve HAD results. I just don’t believe them, despite my best efforts.



  1. Your reactions are definitely those of a Scholar in its pure form of seeking information.

    It certainly doesn’t matter that you don’t “believe”. You will evolve in any case.

  2. That was a pretty quick comment, Cameron! I only posted that a few minutes ago. Wow…must be a wavelength thing.

  3. Hi
    I stumbled here accidentally. Nice blog! How come so few comments? You’ve got such a great blog. Ok, back to your post. I think a certain amount of cautious disbelief is natural and healthy. Cautious wild animals live, trusting ones get noshed up by predators. It’s a basic instinct to doubt and be wary.

    I saw a few ghosts/spirits as a kid, then went to school and started doubting myself. Funny enough – I went to a convent school that sounds so much like yours it is scary. It was our music teacher nun who had a nervous breakdown. We were awful to her, thinking back, but kids can smell fear the same way sharks smell blood and neither shows mercy!

    It’s taken me 40 years to trust my abilities and I still double check every time. For me the proof came very recently – January 2009 in fact. I sometimes pick up words/thoughts from a friend’s guide. I had thought it was probably my imagination, I’m somehow creating this myself… etc etc. Then, this January, I had a long chat with this guide. I never told my friend and basically we dit a bit of gossiping about him spirit-to-human and I felt sheepish to admit it. The next day my friend posted a message from his guide on a psychic forum – it contained a sentence (word perfect) that I’d spoken to this guide, completely unknown to my friend.

    But I still doubt myself in so many ways… no wonder my own guide despairs. (he does despair well too – lots of wringing of hands and gesturing since I don’t hear him, for some reason)

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