Self-serving philosophies

This week’s episode of “Parenthood” included a storyline where one couple was faced with telling their six-year-old about death.  The mother wanted to soften the blow by telling their daughter about heaven, but daddy was adamantly against it.  When they tried to explain to the wee child that death is the end, that’s it, she became understandably upset.  In a panic, mommy spontaneously told her about heaven, much to daddy’s tight-jawed dismay.

I brought the scene up with Odie over dinner tonight.  I told him I understood why people told children about heaven.  It really softens the “when you die, that’s it.  Poof.  Lights out” blow.  Odie became tight-jawed and frowny, like the TV dad.  He said he didn’t want to get in the habit of lying to our daughter.  “But it isn’t a lie,” I retorted, “it’s what most people believe.”  He agreed, but countered that he would need to choose his words very carefully when he talked about this subject with V.

And it suddenly became clear to me why people tend to marry within their own religions and belief systems.  Sure, the irreverent atheist may be sexy and mysteriously appealing, but when it comes time to reproduce, he’s going to end up telling your innocent little baby that there IS NO GOD!  That it’s a lie people tell to comfort themselves.  A self-serving philosophy.

Which got me thinking about philosophies.  Aren’t they ALL self-serving?  Isn’t their purpose to bring us comfort and strength in the face of truly awful circumstances?  “God has a plan” can be so much easier to swallow than “Random, horrible, unfair shit happens to everybody, but mostly only good people, every single day.”  If you believe that when you die, you go to some wonderful place and are reunited with your family and friends (and former pets of course, because it isn’t “heaven” without dogs), then how is that hurting anybody?  If it makes you feel better, then I say believe it.

“But you are deceiving yourself,” might be the argument.  One time, someone said to me, “You seem like such an intelligent woman.  I’m surprised to find out you have such folksy beliefs.”  Don’t you just hate those back-handed insults?  It sounds like a compliment up front, but there’s soft center of condescension when you bite into it. 

Atheism is as much of a self-serving philosophy as the belief that there is something after death.  I’m not going to make a blanket statement about all atheists (or “Secular Humanists”), but I will say that some of the ones I have known have been an awful self-congratulatory “I’m so much smarter than you, peasant” lot.  Because they think they are right, and that most people are delusional idiots.  And it feels good to be right in a world full of delusional idiots.  Trust me.

I agree with Odie that my daughter and our other child should be free to choose their own beliefs.  I’m not sure I even believe in “heaven,” but I understand why someone would tell a child that, especially when a beloved pet has shuffled off this mortal coil and gone to its reward.  But I worry how this opens the door for someone to tell them about hell, which I absolutely do NOT believe in.  And in my opinion, the heaven/hell story is too often used to manipulate and control people.  I recently read a book about a particular cult, and before I read the book, I wondered how so many people could be made to obey a crazy lunatic, even giving their pubescent daughters to him for “marriage” (read: rape).  These faithful believed to the core of their being that the only way to this perfect heaven they’d heard about since childhood was through this man’s grace.  And to cross him, defy him, refuse to sleep with him or give your child to him for sexual gratification, means you and everyone you love would burn in hell for all of eternity.  This fear of hell is a powerful tool.  Easy to abuse.  Terrifying to children.

Now, I’m not saying that my children’s only choices are atheism or blind allegiance to cult leaders.  There is a whole world in-between, where most of us live quite happily with our individual self-serving philosophies.  I remember becoming hysterical with tears when I realized around age six that my poodle was going to die someday.  I was in my bed, sobbing, and my mother called the dog in, who ran around the room and jumped on and off of my bed like a spastic Tasmanian Devil, demonstrating how clearly full of life she was.  Mom assured me that Daisy wouldn’t die for a long, long time.  “Just look at her!” she exclaimed, as Daisy’s antics underscored her comforting words.  She was right, Daisy didn’t die for over ten more years.  When she finally did go, it was my mother who took it harder than I.  “Don’t worry, Mom,” I assured her.  “Daisy is in a better place.  We’ll see her again someday.”

It’s more than just death that we need our self-serving philosophies to get through.  Sometimes, I just have to believe that things happen for a reason.  That someone smarter than me, or at least with a better view of The Big Picture, is driving this bus, and it isn’t going to go careening over a cliff.  When I get uncertain news from doctors, like I recently did, I need to have something to lean on other than, “Eh.  Shit happens.”  When I stand on a precipice, peering into the unknown, I have chosen to believe that I’m not alone there.  Not necessarily that God has a plan or that EVERYTHING happens for a reason, but that there is goodness and opportunity and joy in something that seems like only darkness and fear.

And yes, I’m going to be that cryptic, self-serving though it may be.


About Mrs Odie

Friendly Pedant; Humble Genius
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10 Responses to Self-serving philosophies

  1. Belinda says:

    For a few of my early teen years I had a fear of death. The whole idea of being dead and my body rotting or even waking up in a coffin was just too scary, I cried and told my mother that I never want to die. I had been raised to do all the good Catholic things like first communion but it didn’t go beyond that, I found too many inconsistencies in the dogma of the church.

    Nowadays, I have more of a spiritual pagan attitude although I’m still learning about pagan traditions. They embrace death and it needn’t be a scary or lonely experience but it can be beautiful in its own way.

  2. SlippidyDippidy says:

    I’m agnostic…don’t know how self serving or not self serving that is. I want to believe… But man, I just don’t know.

    Hope everything is ok with you.

  3. Kathleen Daley says:

    God you are good.

  4. mrsk6 says:

    Well said.

    Would Odie be opposed to the “some people believe this…” approach? That’s the one I plan on using given my husband’s ex-catholocism, my dad’s Judaism, my Jehovah’s Witness relatives and my Unitarian Universalist upbringing (and current practicing with hubby and baby).

  5. Lightkeepersdaughter says:

    Enjoyed your post, as always – but, came away feeling that I hoped all was well with you – and maybe I should send up a prayer or two – just in case! 🙂

    I’m not sure if there is a God – of the Christian understanding, anyway……….But, I’m pretty sure there’s a Force greater than us out there in the Universe. How it all “works”, I don’t know – but, I’m not sure we ‘end’ when we depart this mortal coil!

    I was raised steeped in the heaven/hell, scare-the-shit-out-of-you, manipulative, fire-and-brimstone weekly sermons. Don’t know that it made me a better person – but, it surely did scare me into not doing very much that was wrong! 🙂

    Now that I’ve had a whole bunch of adult years to ponder, I realize I don’t believe any of the above – and if there is a God, he/she is not a fire-breathing, whip-cracking, Deity, with a penchant for vengeance. ……. and has way bigger worries to solve, than my petty thoughts and grumbles…….I’m the one responsible for making sure thoughts and grumbles are more positively channeled. He has bigger fish to fry!

    Hope you’re having a good week. Take care………..Rosemary

  6. Sarah says:

    I really like you and see that are a gifted writer. I’m a history teacher and mother of two so will be coming back I’m sure since we seem to have a bit in common. I’m a huge fan of Kelle Hampton so I won’t hold your sentiment against you, although I have an inkling you may be really tender-hearted and not the “hater” you portray. I guess I’ll have to keep coming back to find out which it is!

    • Sarah says:

      PS…I thought you might like to know how I found your website. I teach 8th grade and the girls write some very nasty things about each other in the stalls of our bathroom. Since teachers have to use the student bathrooms, I see this and thought “I wish girls could see all the comments people would say to their 13 year old self” like on Kelle Hampton’s blog and I was trying to find that post and yours came up. A colleague put up some quotes and hopefully the writing will stop…and if not, the girls will still read something positive rather than the slut of the week. I enjoyed your post about what you would say to your 13 year old self. I have realized since having girls how I have to be better than my mother was about my own self-esteem. I blogged about my struggle with “beautiful” and my 13 year old self, but won’t post it since I’m a little scared of the shameless fun you’ll make of me for marketing my writing here! My attitude of criticism is that unless its constructive, I’d really rather people make fun of me behind my back and that I can live in oblivion. Cheers…Sarah

      • mrsk6 says:

        “My attitude of criticism is that unless its constructive, I’d really rather people make fun of me behind my back and that I can live in oblivion.” Great sentiment!

        • Sarah says:

          awww thanks MrsK6. I’ve stopped by your blog and thoroughly enjoyed it. You are a great writer and I can imagine you’ll be a fabulous teacher!

  7. Lea says:

    I honestly have to scratch my head when these mommies claim they are such fans of KH. The woman is the most self absorbed, egotistical person on the planet and uses her children to sell herself and her blog.

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