I used to pray when I was worried about something. My belief in God was never as strong as it was when I was scared out of my mind.
But now? I don’t worry anymore. I’m not the anxious woman-child that I used to be. I don’t know if letting go of God did the trick, or if it was just a combination of maturity and a more relaxed lifestyle. When I do have concerns, I seek the counsel of people–whether they be flesh-and-blood or internet-dwellers. When I’m feeling bad, I turn to long walks and artwork.
If I should ever be afraid and anxious like I used to be, I might reflexively start praying again. But I’d consider this an unbecoming and unconstructive coping mechanism.
Ok, but once you’re crying, the Oreos are going to get wet. And salty.
Grief (or quiet desperation) is clearly not the right time for Oreos. And the shower is not the right place. YMMV. (Maybe you like damp salty Oreos. Need “yuck” smilie now.)
I don’t exactly have a method as such, but literature, philosophy, conversation and honest self reflection help me in a similar way to the one you describe. The energy and enthusiasm I have for the day ahead come from a number of sources. A desire to be a more empathetic, kinder person, a drive to improve the experiences of other people, the pursuit of sensory pleasure, and a quest to understand our place in space and time.
Above all, I am energised by reflecting on just how spectacularly, unfathomably fortunate I am to have ever opened my eyes in the first place. That it should be in a universe of seemingly inexhaustible beauty and mystery, and that I am able to share my experiences with other concious entities somewhat like myself is something I try hard never to take for granted.
In order to win said bet, Novelty Bobble would only have to give an example of a prayer said by an atheist at a time other than in their last few minutes. I have just prayed for a billion dollars to a God I do not believe in. Therefore, barring my imminent demise, I declare the bet won by NB. (I trust that he/she will be gracious enough to split any winnings with me.)
My only response was going to be, yes, I accept that bet. Put the money in escrow, and claim it when you observe me engaging in prayer in the last few moments (or moment’s) of my life.
When faced with an uncertain challenge, or needing the universe to spare a little extra favor my way, I picture Kojak in my head saying “Who loves ya, baby!”. In essence, it’s a reminder that facing the universe with swagger and charm will hopefully make the universe think “Shit, this guy means business” and let me succeed.
You are logical, rational, and have a very clear and intelligent understanding of the human condition.
I’ve since given up the practice, but for a long time I would recite the Our Father on my knees before bed, even when I had completely abandoned my faith. I saw it then as a useful exercise in reflection and discipline.
When it really started to seem silly to pray to a god I’m pretty sure doesn’t exist, I switched to short statements of gratitude. But I haven’t kept that up - maybe I needed the structure of the formal prayer to maintain the discipline.
But I’ve never been one to see prayer as stupid or pointless. When I was going through my OCIA classes, I was taught to pray in the order of “ACTS” - adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, and supplication. I still think there’s value to at least recognizing your moral failures and resolving to do better, and being aware of the good things in your life.
Some many years ago, a friend was horribly injured, and was in peril of his life. I was at the hospital, on the long night’s vigil with his family.
At one point, I said, “He’ll be okay. He’s just got to.”
Not then, not that night, but some time later, when I mentioned that, someone quite wise told me, “You were engaging in prayer.”
Maybe so…but if so, any abstract expression of hope would be “prayer,” and, in my mind, that dilutes the meaning so far as to render it fatuous and inane.
In any case, it’s fair to say that atheists, even if they engage in prayerful thinking, may do so without addressing it to a specific wish-granting supernatural entity. There would be a world of difference between, “I hope so!” and “I hope so, Jesus!”
What you don’t understand is the simple logic of it. You’re about to die. You have two choices, A. accept that this is the end of the line and, well, nothing. B. Accept that a prayer might bridge the gap and put you on the fast track to an afterlife.
What investment is involved? What returns are possible? So, the nurse beside while you lay there dying asks if you’d like her to call a reverend and hope for the best, or a mortician and, well, you won’t need to get dressed up because you got no place to go.
“It is by caffeine alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the beans of Java the thoughts acquire speed, the hands acquire shaking, the shaking becomes a warning. It is by caffeine alone I set my mind in motion…”
Pascal’s Wager. To which mythical entity do I address my perfunctory and pro-forma plea? Take a couple hours and pray to 'em all?
I agree it wouldn’t do any harm. But, in that extremity, I think I’d rather try to get out of my deathbed and kiss the night nurse. Or raid the pain-killer cabinet.
