Member-only story
So, I’m not religious. I don’t believe in the supernatural. Nor do I consider myself spiritual — because, even without religious iconography, spirituality seems to be steeped in the supernatural.
I do believe in science — very much so — but I don’t consider myself a reductionist or a materialist.
To my mind, something special is happening, even if it isn’t magic. So, I’ve found a metaphor to describe my viewpoint with a reasonable degree of accuracy.
I’m a Bud-ist. This is not to be confused with Buddhist, even though for a number of reasons one may see these two views as related.
People are like buds that flower and then die. They are each unique, beautiful and temporary. So are insects, birds, other beasts and plants. Even bacteria — and mountains! — are buds.
Our role is to exist, express ourselves, and co-exist with others. We struggle and suffer only when we strive to defy our nature. We cannot be immortal. We cannot dominate other buds. And we certainly should never steal excessive nutrients from our host, endangering the survival of the entire rosebush.
We share the same nature as all other buds. We should be able to relate, empathize and share what’s common and what’s different about our experiences. We all have stories to tell — and stories to hear.
