The Full Circle

I came to write this blog right after watching a reel of a guy sharing his thoughts on atheists and theists. According to his experience, many of the atheists he has met are generally kind, empathetic people. On the other hand, the theists he has come across often lack empathy and tend to be judgmental, the kind who say, “If you do this, you will go to hell,” or “If you don’t follow that, you won’t go to heaven,” all while someone is just trying to live their life. This struck a chord with me. I started my own journey rooted in religion, diving into the concepts of karma, reading spiritual texts, and trying to understand how the cosmos works. Maybe in the process, trying to understand how I work, too. Trying to find meaning in my presence and a sense of purpose in this world. But right now, I feel lost. And all I want is to just be. Not a good person. Not a bad person. Just a person, existing, living in the present, aware of my thoughts, conscious of my existence.

If you ask my take on why "theist" people are often perceived the way they are, for me, it’s simply because many of them are ignorant. I will never believe that religion was created to make someone feel inferior or less than, just for existing and living their life. In fact, all religious people are atheists too, if they don’t believe in another religion’s god. So, if something changes the moment you change the point of observation, is it even the absolute truth? Because the absolute truth remains the same, whether you play with it or fool around. I believe the ones who claim to be standing up for their religion are often influencing others in a harmful way, misrepresenting it, and portraying it in ways it was never meant to be. Religion was never meant to divide people; its essence was always about belonging, about togetherness. But over time, people began to amend it for their own benefit, let’s be real, mostly men did. And now, it looks like religion has always been against women. That’s not the fault of religion. The problem is with the people.

 I have met atheist people too, and I have noticed they tend to fall into two groups. The first are those who are intentional with their beliefs; they have thought deeply, asked themselves hard questions, and they have their reasons. I admire them. Their beliefs come from curiosity, from experience, from reflection. The second group, honestly, feels a bit hollow. People who reject a belief without understanding why. There’s a difference between questioning and dismissing. But in both cases, I find value in the act of questioning, in believing something because you have tried to understand it. I think that’s important, because we are all shaped by our environments, our society, our upbringing, our culture. And still, there’s something powerful, even courageous, about separating your own beliefs from the ones that were handed to you. To look at them, examine them, and ask, “Is this truly mine?” That’s what I respect the most.

I have always believed life is a full circle. When I say full circle, I mean this: you start with nothingness and eventually return to nothingness. Initially, you don’t know what’s right or wrong; you simply exist. Then, somewhere along the way, you start seeking meaning. You search for what’s right, what’s wrong, what’s true, what’s worth believing in. You chase answers. You go through confusion, questions, joy, heartbreak, all of it. And in the end, you arrive back where you started. But this time, you are not clueless but calm. You are not seeking but simply being. The answers may not even matter anymore, because you realize you were always meant to arrive here. And maybe there was no answer to begin with. Maybe the journey itself was the answer. It reminds me of something I once read, the idea of the “soul on a journey.” Of course, it’s a theological concept; you can take it or leave it, but it stuck with me. When you’re a young soul, you don’t care much. Right or wrong? Doesn’t matter. You are not burdened by awareness; you are just living. You feel things, sure, but you don’t analyze them. You don’t question them. Then, as you grow, you start to unlearn and relearn. You become conscious. You start to feel the weight of choices. You question your purpose, your morals, your values. You strive to do the right thing, to be the right thing. And finally, after all the searching, the reflecting, the breaking and building, you come back to that same place you started. Still, the questions don’t matter as much. The definitions of good or bad don’t hold you the same way. The only thing that’s changed is you, your awareness, your experience, your quiet understanding that sometimes, it’s not about figuring life out, it’s about living it. 

“Ignorance is bliss,” they say, and the more I live, the more I see why. Because sometimes, we already hold the answers within us, but it takes the whole journey, the full circle, to realize it.