Tag: faith

Exit Velocity

by earlthepearl137

I got an e-mail from my high school alumni association asking me to submit an article on where my life has gone since High School. Here’s what I submitted.

Escape Velocity — How I Survived Catholic School and Became a Proud Atheist
I spent thirteen years in Catholic school — thirteen years of uniforms, catechism, and guilt as a second language. If you ever wondered what it’s like to grow up under constant moral surveillance, imagine being told that God is watching you and Brother Luke Martin has binoculars.
So when Christ the King high school asked alumni to write about “where we are today,” I thought: Spiritually? I’m off-campus, way off campus.
My family’s devotion was inherited, not chosen — like a family heirloom you’re expected to wear even if it clashes with your outfit. Faith was comforting, sure, but also confining. Certainty has a way of wrapping around you like a warm blanket that slowly turns into shrink-wrap.
We were taught that doubt was dangerous. I later realized doubt is just healthy curiosity.
My escape wasn’t dramatic — no lightning bolts, no slammed doors. It was more like discovering that “critical thinking” wasn’t a sin after all. I realized the universe didn’t need a hall monitor.
I remember the first time I said aloud, “I don’t believe in God.” I braced for thunder, lightning, or at least a pop quiz from God. Nothing happened. The world kept spinning. That’s when I knew I’d achieved escape velocity.
Leaving faith behind was gradual, not rebellious. I didn’t trade hymns for heavy metal or start wearing black. I just stopped outsourcing my conscience. Curiosity replaced doctrine, and morality stopped being a checklist as I journeyed from Agnosticism to full-blown Atheism.
Turns out, you can be kind, honest, and decent without divine supervision — though you do lose access to guilt as a motivational tool.
Atheism didn’t erase morality; it clarified it. I learned that empathy doesn’t need commandments, and reason doesn’t need miracles. My ethics now come from people, not ancient parchments.
And honestly, life’s simpler when you don’t have to explain why an omniscient being needs weekly reminders that you’re sorry.
Catholic guilt, though — that’s the souvenir that never fades. It’s like a spiritual tattoo: invisible, indelible, and occasionally itchy.
To the students still navigating those hallowed halls of a Catholic high school: think freely, question deeply, and define belief for yourself. Faith, doubt, and reason aren’t enemies — they’re just different ways of asking the same question.
And if this essay somehow gets printed in the alumni newsletter, I’ll consider it my first miracle.
Sincerely,
Harold Earl Paulson, Class of 1966.

I haven’t heard back from them, yet.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

Is There Baseball in Heaven?

by earlthepearl137

First we’ll use Spahn, Then we’ll use Sain, Then an off day, Followed by rain. Back will come Spahn, Followed by Sain and followed, we hope, By two days of rain.

That was the Braves’ pitching strategy back in 1948, the year I was born. It was a poetic plan built on two arms and meteorological optimism. It didn’t quite deliver a World Series win, but it gave us one of baseball’s most enduring mantras: trust your aces, pray for rain, and hope the schedule cooperates.

Fast forward to today’s playoffs, and the prayers haven’t stopped — they still go skyward. Every time a slugger hits a home run, he points to the Heavens like he’s communicating with the great batting coach in the sky. The gesture is so common it’s practically part of the batting stance.

And yet…

If God is the Creator of the Universe — galaxies, black holes, cosmic radiation, and the occasional rogue asteroid — is He really tuning in for Game 3 of the ALDS?

The idea that God has a “chosen team” is about as plausible as the Earth being flat. And yet, every October, we get a parade of skyward glances, post-game interviews thanking Jesus for the walk-off double, and fans convinced that their prayers tipped the ump’s call.

So, this playoff season, point to the sky if you must — just know that you may be interrupting a divine Zoom call between God and the Andromeda High Council, where they might be experiencing a severe plumbing problem.

If you’re wondering whether God’s rooting for your team, just check the scoreboard. If you’ve got two starters like Spahn and Sain, and it says “Rain Delay,” that could be your answer.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

Myths

by earlthepearl137

Educated people don’t believe in unicorns. Or mermaids. Or Atlantis, Bigfoot, or the Fountain of Youth. These are dismissed as charming myths—cultural artifacts with no empirical backing. And rightly so. We’ve combed the forests, dredged the lakes, and carbon-dated the ruins. No horned horses. No fish-women. No golden cities.

But God? That’s different.

Despite the same lack of physical evidence, belief in God is not only accepted—it’s revered. Taught in schools, sworn on in courtrooms, and invoked in campaign speeches. The same minds that scoff at fairy tales will defend divine presence with philosophical rigor and moral urgency.

This isn’t a jab at faith—it’s a spotlight on the intellectual gymnastics required to hold both positions. The educated skeptic who demands peer-reviewed proof for mythical beasts will often grant God a pass. “It’s about faith,” they say. “Transcendence. Meaning.”

But why does God get the exemption? Why not the unicorn, who at least has the decency to sparkle?

Maybe it’s not about evidence at all. Maybe it’s about utility. God offers moral scaffolding, community, and cosmic comfort. Unicorns offer glitter and horn-based combat. One gets a cathedral; the other gets a Lisa Frank folder.

So, we believe what serves us. Not what’s proven. And maybe that’s the real myth: that educated people believe only what’s true.

This isn’t a call to abandon belief. It’s a call to examine it. To ask why some unproven ideas are cherished while others are ridiculed. To recognize that even the most rational minds are shaped by culture, emotion, and need.

And if we’re going to believe in things unseen, maybe we should give the unicorn a second chance. At least she never started a war.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

Happy Thanksgiving to All, even “Uncle Bob”

by earlthepearl137

Three weeks ago, the country was divided into those who would be voting for Donald Trump and those who would be voting for Kamala Harris.  With the election now over, those divisions no longer exist. Now, we are all Americans who will be living through another Donald Trump Presidency.  We’re all in the same boat now, except that half of us are optimistic about the next four years, and half of us are dreading them.

I am a never Trumper, but I am not too worried about what Donald Trump is going to do simply because I am old, real old.  I am 76. My aging body might not even last until the end of his Presidency.  For that matter, Trump is older than me, so his aging body might not last that long, either.  He already looks like he’s melting.  So, like my Mom always said, “Never trouble trouble, ‘til trouble troubles you, for trouble, like a bubble, that you’re troubling about, may only be a cipher with the rim rubbed out.”

Many of my friends are in the other camp.  They drank the Kool-Aid DJT was dispensing and are expecting him to “Make America Great Again.”  It would be nice if four years from now, I could say, “Wow, I’m shocked, but you were right.  The United States is great again.”  However, I feel that, instead, I will be saying, “I warned you assholes that this was going to happen.”  Only time will tell what I’ll be saying in four years.  So, let’s focus on the present. 

Tomorrow, families and friends will be gathered around the Thanksgiving table, gorging on food before sitting down to watch football while their waistbands are pressing cruelly against their stomachs.  Perhaps, there will be some political discussion, but I hope that everyone will remain calm, try to keep things civil, and remember that we all have much for which to be thankful. If you have trouble calming down, just remember the words of a wise old soothsayer, “This too shall pass.”

Happy Thanksgiving to all, even “Uncle Bob.”

Peace & Love, and all of the above.

Earl