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A god around my neck

While search­ing the draw­ers for bat­ter­ies, I found an old pen­dant that I had worn around my neck for a long time. A mix­ture of nos­tal­gia and anx­i­ety has moved up the com­plex edi­fice of my thinking.

The chain and the tar­nished pen­dant took me back to a time not so long ago when I let myself be guid­ed by sym­bols, in search of arche­types that I knew how to nour­ish our lives. If my mem­o­ry serves me right, it was giv­en to me by an ex-boyfriend of mine. I was proud to wear this sym­bol even though I had no idea what it could rep­re­sent. After all, those who pop­u­lat­ed the plan­et before us must have found so many answers from the col­lec­tive uncon­scious, res­onat­ing itself on the waves of the first Big Bang.

Just yes­ter­day, I was watch­ing a doc­u­men­tary called Sci­ence vs God on Curios­i­ty Stream. We heard priests, the­olo­gians, astro­physi­cists, imams and oth­er sor­cer­ers dis­cussing athe­ism and the­ism. Some of them took up rough­ly what I had writ­ten in the pre­vi­ous walk. Oth­ers quick­ly jumped to the con­clu­sion that, if this uni­verse is so ordered, it is because there is an autho­riz­ing offi­cer, if the equa­tions we invent accu­rate­ly mea­sure black holes, and if the Earth is a mir­a­cle in itself, nei­ther too close nor too far from its sun, that the chances are so small to get there, is that, of course, some­one greater than any­thing else has thought of it.

But then, the athe­ists will say, if God cre­at­ed the uni­verse, who cre­at­ed God ? The tor­ment of answers and counter-answers starts again, some tak­ing offence at such an absurd ques­tion. How­ev­er, we will talk about the spon­ta­neous gen­er­a­tion dis­cov­ered in the infi­nite­ly small, we will elab­o­rate on the pos­si­bil­i­ty of mul­ti­ple uni­vers­es that bub­ble in the void. Any­way, we don’t know that. The the­ist rests from all ques­tions by plac­ing his final point of faith. The athe­ist will silent­ly turn to sci­ence, which tire­less­ly pur­sues its path of questioning.

The more we dis­cov­er the uni­verse, the less we get clos­er to God, the clos­er we get to God, the less we…?

There will then be impor­tant schol­ars to answer that it does­n’t mat­ter, that we will all be dead, my broth­er, and that it is bet­ter to rejoice in the mir­a­cle of our existence.

I am a lit­tle bit of one of them, with­out claim­ing to have all their sci­ence. At the same time, I enjoy writ­ing astro­log­i­cal reports for friends, I feed on the sto­ries of oth­ers, I would like to dance with him, sing with the oth­er, change with them.

Maybe if I put that pen­dant back on my neck…

First, I will have to clean up the oxi­da­tion that gnaws at it. There must be a recipe on the Inter­net for that.

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