Broken

I have only recently begun to get a really good look at just how broken I am. I think that I still don't see it completely. Perhaps it will take a while, or perhaps I'll never see it fully. Every once in a while, I'll compare myself, my way of thinking, my way of being, to that of others. Instead of the old thought that I'm pretty much like everyone else, or that maybe I'm just a different kind of thinker, it now appears to me that I am so utterly broken that I can't even come close to having anything in common with most other people.

A brief review of Rebecca Goldstein's new book, 36 Arguments for the Existence of God, has this to say:

...the cosmic reason for my personal existence...is ultimately just a contingency of the universe...most human beings will never accept this, and so they will turn from reason to religion.

This jumped out at me as one of those surprising new indicators of my brokenness. I have never cared much about the cosmic reason for my existence. I can't imagine needing to turn to religion for that. I suppose that many atheists would say the same thing, but I sense that they would have at least sought a reason, and then decided that no reason is necessary. I have never sought a reason for my existence. I'm not sure that I've ever cared why I'm here. The only reason I ever cared about religion was because Edd told me when I was 13 that I'd burn in hell forever. If it hadn't been for that, I would never have cared about Jesus.

I sense that I am far more disconnected from "normal" people than I've ever realized. I have a feeling that this is going to be a long road of unpleasant discovery.