Image Source For the longest time, I scoffed at anything that smelled remotely spiritual. The idea of praying, meditating, or seeking a “higher self” felt like escapism to me; a crutch for people afraid to face the blunt, chaotic, meaningless void that life often throws at us. As an agnostic, I don’t believe in God in the traditional sense, but I do believe in Karma - a quiet force that balances our actions with unseen consequences. I find comfort in the idea that a higher power, not defined by religion, watches over us with silent wisdom. For me, being agnostic means choosing faith in energy, cause and effect, and the mystery of the universe rather than doctrine. I’ve leaned toward Nihilism most of my adult life, not in a destructive way, but more in the “nothing really matters” sense. It was oddly comforting, even liberating. If life has no intrinsic meaning, I’m free to create my own, or none at all. That gave me peace. Until, slowly, it didn’t.
Opinion Writer - Saying it the way it is.