There’s this bit from Chandler’s “The Long Goodbye”, one of my favorite books:
“Maybe I can quit drinking one of these days. They all say that, don’t they?”
“It takes about three years.”
“Three years?” He looked shocked.
“Usually it does. It’s a different world. You have to get used to a paler set of colors, a quieter lot of sounds. You have to allow for relapses. All the people you used to know well will get to be just a little strange. You won’t even like most of them, and they won’t like you too well.”
With losing faith I imagine it’s like that too. There’s no longer a voice booming at you that you must avoid death, or behave morally or whatnot. From now on, the motivation has to come from you and from the world around you, and it’ll be quieter at first. You won’t find it in one philosophical swoop (and I’d be wary of anyone offering you such a swoop: you’re vulnerable right now). It’ll have to come gradually, in time. Just give it time.
There’s this bit from Chandler’s “The Long Goodbye”, one of my favorite books:
With losing faith I imagine it’s like that too. There’s no longer a voice booming at you that you must avoid death, or behave morally or whatnot. From now on, the motivation has to come from you and from the world around you, and it’ll be quieter at first. You won’t find it in one philosophical swoop (and I’d be wary of anyone offering you such a swoop: you’re vulnerable right now). It’ll have to come gradually, in time. Just give it time.