I had a mania for it. Lay awake at night worrying about the existence of God. And then I just lost interest.
I think this is perhaps the oddest experience of my life.
Religion defined me. And then it ceased to define me. Simple as that.
God was there. I was crazy about him/her. God went. And I don't miss him in the least.
I was watching a film about Sai Baba last night. The man's an obvious phoney- a frog-faced little chap with a ridiculous afro, a repertoire of simple sleight of hand tricks which he passes off as "miracles" and a mouthful of platitudes. And yet millions world-wide have been persuaded to put their faith in him.
Persuaded? No. It's not as if there's been a huge sales campaign. The guy just popped up in his mid-teens and said, "Hi, I'm God; believe in me." And instead of laughing, people said, "Oh all right then."
The hunger for existential meaning is just so powerful.
The fools for love aren't half so foolish as the fools for God.