What if religious belief (and I use that term not to describe organized religion, but your personal experience & theories of the unknown) was like tuning yourself to a different radio station than everyone else? Where all the different beliefs, gods, and supernatural phenomena existed in parallel, and when you tune to one of these frequencies, any given god becomes real to you? I suppose then that would beg the question: what about all the evil, wrathful gods? The belief in that which causes harm, and imposes itself on others? Would those exist as well? Or would they simply be "wrong" about the nature of the Divine? After all, one of my most fundamental beliefs about "God" is that they are good. Existence is good, non-existence is good, the universe is good, the fundamental mechanics of how everything works is good.

Or are they?

Another one of my beliefs is that God makes mistakes. God learns. So I suppose that would be somewhat contradictory, wouldn't it? Is God an incomprehensible, reality-spanning astral body or construct, who could be considered one being and us cells within it? Whom we can't even comprehend in terms of scale, thought, and morality? Or is God some sort of hidden, autonomous creator who is aware and acts in ways much closer to that of a human individual? And what about animals? Is God a spirit, an energy with no will, and just is?

Is God any one thing at all? Is there a "correct" interpretation of God, and if not, does that mean we decide what God is? Collectively? Or by majority? Do we merely discard the beliefs and conceptions that are harmful according to ethics, morality, autonomy?

Maybe there is no God at all. To me, atheism (distinct from anti-theism) holds just as much to learn as any other form of belief, because it gives us the perspective that perhaps we shouldn't think of God as a "god"-- at least, as defined by the limited perspective of human beings. Maybe God is just a giant creature whose body is our universe. Would a cell in our body be wrong to think we are gods? Would they ever be able to comprehend our "correct," complete nature? So then, irregardless of our theories about the nature of the Divine, or whether it exists or not, it wouldn't matter what we think. We'll simply never know. We can't know. It is so far beyond anything we could know that, unless dying were to cause a sort of "zooming out" that allows us to see it all, whole, or somehow convey to us the answer to everything, one can only come to a single conclusion: religious belief is simply "whatever you tell yourself to get through the day." Your meaning, the purpose you (and, to an extent, others) have ascribed to your personal existence.

It will always be limited, and that purpose can even be harmful. But if you keep an open mind, reject the idea that one person could ever fully know the true nature of our universe, then I think some of the most beautiful works can be done. The impossible becomes possible. I loathe to think of a world without some of the works, art, and theories about our existence that have come from religious, spiritual thought. After all, if you accept the premise that none of us know, can know, or ever will know all there is to know, then one can argue that all thoughts on the nature of Divinity are religious thoughts; even those that propose Divinity doesn't exist at all.

I feel that I can see the Divine in everything, and nothing at all. Everything we make, everything we touch, in art, music, poetry, each other, and in all our thoughts. Are we the gods? Or is there a bit of God inside us all? Or are we gods inside another god? We've seen how, on a microscopic level, life exists-- but can you imagine it from their perspective? To an ant, a driveway is a vast desert. There are places in this world where an ant on the sidewalk could never reach, places they will never know, things they never thought possible. It's similar for us-- 99% of space is theorized to be completely unreachable to us, even if we achieved interstellar travel. In the opposite direction, as you get smaller, and smaller, it's as if you're transported to a different dimension entirely. If we keep zooming in like that, does it ever end?

I suppose that's my question, at its core: if we zoomed out, would we ever be stopped? And if we zoomed in? Is it infinite? Or perhaps some secret, other thing? Will I find the same shapes, over and over again; beings making up the body of a being making up the body of a being? Are we, and everything, just a giant Russian nesting doll of divinity? Is it even worth wondering?

I don't know the answer to that. In Ursula Le Guin's masterpiece of science fiction, The Left Hand of Darkness, the religion of Handdara places great value & virtue in admitting to your own ignorance. Still, don't you wonder? Do you think you could ever stop wondering? Theorizing? Not performatively, of course, but in your own mind. In the thoughts you don't tell others. It's fun, isn't it? And terrifying. To think such terrible, mind-bending atrocities could result, or some of the most profound, beautiful works of creation & thought.

In that way, one could maybe compare religious belief to the concept of "play." Play can be beneficial, harmless, but it can also be cruel, unfair. It all depends on the stakes, and the actions you take as a result. The Homilies of Almalexia, a book found in the fictional world of The Elder Scrolls, tells a short fable for children:

Young Sotha Sil, while playing in the egg mines, saw a number of scribs in a deep shaft, and he began to cast stones upon them, snickering as they skittered and scattered, until one of the scribs, lifting its head in agony, cried out to Sotha Sil: "Please, please, have mercy, little boy, for what is sport to you is suffering and death to us."

And so Sotha Sil discovered that the idle amusements of one may be the solemn tortures of another.

Us humans value our games, dearly. In my opinion, so long as they're played with all parties' full consent, and without imposing yourself on or coercing others into truly harmful beliefs, they can reveal to us so much about ourselves, our potential, and this incomprehensible, terrible, beautiful reality we inhabit. Sometimes that means we agree to comply with self-imposed, arbitrary rules. That's just gaming, baby. We'll never know it all, but we can theorize, and we can even assume; embrace our own inevitable ignorance, and set rules that will most certainly change. I think we can piece some of it together with our experiences in those fields of play. By sharing those experiences with others. And maybe, just maybe, miracles will result.

Art is my life. For some, it's video games, or the creation of them. For others, it's an arbitrary game of physical prowess. And we rarely only have one of these passions! But... isn't it silly? To care so much about these things we made up? Could you even explain why you feel so strongly in a way that is "rational," "objective," and based in "reality?" I don't do it out of a desire to control, or harm anyone. To say, "everyone must make art, everyone must be an artist." Still, I am compelled. Why? Compelled to wonder, to imagine, to theorize. To create. For seemingly no reason but this deep, unexplainable need. Call it what you want, and I'll call it what I want.

Is that God? The question compels, haunts, confounds, destroys, creates, liberates, oppresses. Causes atrocities and miracles in equal measure.