My life has become a long quest to resolve a crisis of faith.
It’s not just about religion or theology, though. It’s about all of life. I didn’t even recognize what was going on when it started. At one point, everything made sense. I had a coherent worldview. That’s what I thought anyway — until the foundations of my life broke down, one by one.
When I was young, everything made sense to me. I had what seemed to be a coherent “theory of everything.” I knew The Truth, not because I had found something, but simply because I had grown up being taught exactly how things ought to be.
My understanding of The Truth wasn’t just about theology or God or anything so narrow. I had an integrated set of beliefs about reality. About everything. They all fit together — like the parts of a beautiful building.
My “theory of everything” was a work of great art which had been designed with mathematical precision — by an architect who was also a great engineer.
The central pillar of that structure of beliefs was my father. Even though I now understand that my family was deeply dysfunctional, I believed that everything my father taught me was right and good. I got angry with him at times and I pushed back in small ways, but I was ultimately too afraid to rebel against this god-like father who ruled my life.

I can’t tell truth about my father unless I dig for truth about me
Try a new game: Make others smile — and let yourself smile with them
Our greatest apparent strengths frequently lead to our downfall
What if most money spent for university degrees is useless?
Almost all of us feel alienation if we don’t find a place to call home
Ban on saggy pants: Why do we require laws against looking foolish?
The Alien Observer: Craving predictability in a world gone mad
A year later, late-night phone call and suicide threat still echo in me
Meet the website developer who saved my failing redesign process