I keep having these dreams that seem to reflect the current political climate in the United States. Each dream is different, but they share similar themes centered around being forced to attend a Catholic or evangelical church service that feels infused with the undertones of Third Reich propaganda. In these dreams, I’m always compelled to enter the church and watch a service that quickly turns dark and hostile. It’s not a place of love. I want to leave, but I have to do so discreetly, facing bizarre obstacles and encountering hostile individuals—even monsters—chasing after me. One dream involved attending a convention for the Satanic Temple, where the journey to the location eerily resembled riding a train to a concentration camp. The convention was set in a beautiful mountain village and seemed welcoming at first, but it was soon overrun by neo-Nazi types, causing all the attendees—women—to flee. While these dreams are just nightmares, they reveal an underlying fear of evangelicals and fascists imposing their beliefs on me.
Theology—or perhaps I should say mysticism—is one of my favorite subjects to study and create art about. You can see this reflected in my work; even pieces from many years ago carry religious meaning. This is why my first blog post discussed how different religions shaped me growing up and continue to influence me. But why am I so interested in spiritual practices when I don’t identify with any? The answer is death—the great mystery we all will face: what happens, and where do we go? I’ve mentioned that I was only 10 when I first understood what death meant. It was a horrifying realization, leaving me feeling hopeless and helpless. Crying wouldn’t make it go away, and it seemed so scary and lonely. Now, as I near 50, I don’t share the same fear. Some might think this would be worse now, especially since I don’t believe in anything beyond death. I don’t believe I have a soul that will travel to some blissful place, nor do I think my soul will be reborn into a new being. Instead, I view it as ceasing to exist, while my energy impacts those around me. My soul lives on in the memories of those who knew me until their own day comes, and my body will return to the earth as food and minerals for other life forms.
My metaphorical train has returned to the station again (see my first blog post if you’re confused), and I’ve said goodbye to my three-year journey with non-theistic, compassionate Satanism. While this ideology remains close to my heart, the complexities of being part of the congregation and calling it my religion weighed on me. I sought a community I could relate to, which I found, but much like my time in Buddhism, I could not fully commit to identifying non-theistic, compassionate Satanism as my religion. Why?
I didn’t grow up with a forced religion imposed by my parents. I was introduced to Catholicism as a child due to family history, but most of my relatives only participated in church during holidays, weddings, and funerals. I attended Catholic school for a brief time, but even then, it was just school. Once home, nobody in my immediate family discussed being Catholic or said prayers. It was respected but never a big deal. When I began to question existential topics like death, I had the freedom to explore other ideologies and philosophies without fear or punishment. I found that many practitioners of compassionate Satanism came from deeply involved Christian backgrounds. Some had suffered abuse within their families and church communities, while others were exiled by their families for coming out as LGBTQ. They were angry, hurt, and some even traumatized by their experiences, seeking out Satanism for community and healing—not to cause harm or be evil towards Christians. Satanism is about rejecting arbitrary authority and rebelling against dogmatic conformity, while promoting empathy and self-worth. It’s understandable why those hurt by their religious upbringings would turn to Satanism. For me, I had rejected those constraints long before I knew what non-theistic Satanism was or connected with a like-minded community. I wasn’t abused, but the answers to my questions didn’t make sense, so I sought them elsewhere. When I discovered non-theistic Satanism, I yearned for a community because I felt alone in my beliefs as an atheist, frustrated by Christianity’s attempts to dominate the political landscape. However, as I became more involved in Satanism, I realized I didn’t share the same desire for devotion that some members did. I was drawn to the symbolism representing rebellion, especially in a creative sense, but when routines, invocations, and practices developed, it didn’t feel atheistic to me. While I enjoyed aspects of our community gatherings, I didn’t need a constant presence of it in my life. It is part of me, but it does not define me. Just as Buddhism became less central to my identity, so too did Satanism, and I decided that being a friend and ally was where I could contribute the most.
In conclusion, I’ve come to understand that I don’t believe there is one right way for everyone to live or believe. What matters is allowing people to find what works best for them, as long as it isn’t harmful to themselves or others. Some people need a community of faith. Some require daily rituals and practices more than others. Some find comfort in traditions, and I’m okay with all of that.
As for myself, I need everyone—Christians, Satanists, Jews, Pagans, Buddhists, Muslims, and Atheists. I need my scientists, social critics, and philosophers like Joseph Campbell, Hermann Hesse, Bill Hicks, George Carlin, and Jane Elliott.
What I do not need is control or force. I do not need shame. I do not need judgment.
I just need to be loved for who I truly am. We all want that, right? Love and light always.
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This month’s picture is the first etching I’ve made and printed. Etching printed light so I went back over it with black ink to bring out darker details. Do you remember my last blog about my frustrations with printmaking? Well, this is promising and just with this first attempt I’m thrilled with my results. I’m eager to start another plate especially since I understand a little more about how to use the materials.
Title- Kinnim from the Suffer Well series which explores the relationship of religion and sacrifice to forgive sin.
IG Reel showing the printing and painting process- https://www.instagram.com/reel/C9YWJXZOh9L/?igsh=OWRvcnY3OG1nc3J5
