Spiritual Adolescence

On Atheism… and Adolescence
For me, atheism is a lot like spiritual adolescence. A necessary phase of rebellion, questioning, and healthy destruction.

One of the most fascinating conversations I had while studying Bach Flower Remedies was about water — specifically, the research of Masaru Emoto and how water crystals respond to energy. Heavy metal music was said to “destructure” water molecules, while classical music brought harmony and coherence. Even words, emotions, and intentions directed at water could change its form.

And considering we humans are over 70% water — this becomes pretty relevant.

Have you noticed how often teenagers are drawn to destructive music? Angry lyrics, screaming guitars, dressing in black, cursing, slamming doors. It’s as if they’re doing everything possible to break down their internal structure — and maybe that’s exactly the point.

It’s easy to judge this phase. We often assume structure is “good” and destruction is “bad.” But destruction isn’t inherently negative — especially not during adolescence. It’s a time when we begin to separate from our parents, from their beliefs and emotional patterns. A time when we say: This structure is not mine. I want to build my own.

I think of a child’s worldview like a tall tower, built over time from blocks handed down by parents, teachers, relatives, and peers. I remember vividly the first moments I realized, as a teenager, that adults can be wrong — and that I had been right. Those realizations felt like emotional explosions, cracking the foundation of the tower I had inherited.

And so, adolescence comes with the impulse to knock that tower down. To demolish what no longer fits in order to build something more authentic. That dark, messy, rebellious phase? It’s necessary. And when a child listens to chaotic music or experiments with how they look, it’s part of the dismantling process. Completely normal. Even beautiful.

And this is where atheism comes in.

Atheism, to me, is often the spiritual equivalent of this stage. A moment of clearing. After being told what to believe — often with fear, shame, or guilt — some of us reach a point where we throw it all out. No more dogma. No more sky-fathers watching and judging. Only what we can see, touch, measure.

And that, too, is healthy.

I was a full-on atheist for years — from around age 12 to 19. And it was liberating. I didn’t have to pretend to believe things that didn’t feel real. I could think for myself.

But eventually, if you’re curious and paying attention, something shifts. You start noticing odd synchronicities. A prayer that’s answered before it’s spoken. A moment of grace that makes no sense. And the journey begins again — not from blind faith, but from your own direct experience.

That’s when your personal spirituality starts to take shape. Not built on someone else’s story, but on your own soul’s wisdom.

I think goddesses like Kali or Pele would approve. Destruction, for them, is not chaos for its own sake. It’s the sacred fire that clears the path for true creation.