Meaning Without Belief

I have spent many a day, of the admittedly few "under my belt", studying and trying to live the lifestyle of several different religious type "walks". The structure, and community of such organizations becomes the whole point of the thing before too  long, and the doctrine, the teachings, the wisdom which the congregation exists to pay attention to becomes some white elephant in the room.
That's the right expression, isn't it? The big, huge deal- which we all try not to notice.
I usually go to a sermon or whatever they call it in whichever church or gathering place, seeking something spiritual, something wise and old and huge like a blanket which drapes over generation and culture- wind up leaving, feeling nasty about the human race.

I also have to question my motives when my mind wanders toward the altar.
This time around, I think the appeal, as it was even when I was too young to have really ever done much to feel relatively repentant over, is a good guilt trip. I have always sought a good moral wringing out during times of discomfort and misunderstanding. I have always looked for an answer in the places which first require a person to prostrate themselves and bellow from deep down, I am wrong, I am bad, I am not okay as I am.
What a very powerful thing. and it does cover over generations, cultures- but is that the idea the belief, these practices really intend one to focus on?

Lately I've remembered kindly the sense of community, and the sense of betterment a choice few individuals within congregations. I look to the other side of the spectrum, and see tattooed, chewed up and spit out belief-less souls, and I still find congregation, community and a few choice individuals bent on being/getting better. I have been trying, and not noticing that the love I shared with somebody was not a big enough blanket to cover the complications and differences we brought together between us. I had prayed, meditated, wrote my wishes, feelings, confusions, admittedly messed up accusations onto paper and burned them, published them anonymously on the internet so strangers could critique them for me, buried them in jars of water and lilac in the dirt! All sorts of ritualistic devaluing of my being- my personal development, went into the relationship. So many things to try to make sense of, make excuses for, feel terribly about.

I could follow my old pattern and try relentlessly to string them all together with the needle of some God somewhere, some karmic past life direction, some sort of fate or destiny. But that shit is exhausting. There is never enough wisdom or knowledge in a single person, and when a person thinks they have done "right", there is always another person standing over them, criticizing, correcting or making suggestions.
Not that there is anything wrong with people thinking, or rather, knowing, they are wrong. Knock yourselves out. However, I think biologically, we have a natural tendency to contain a boundless intuition, which needs to be developed and trusted. In a natural state of balance to an individual's survival, there is contentment- there is peace. So often this search for peace rakes people over the coals of their own fear and hatred- leaves them a bit humbled but deeply ruined.

The Deftones "passenger" plays for me on jango. The music by the deftones is something I regularly visit, but have never really consistently explored. It's not happy, thoughful- it's mindbendingly thoughtful, and so brutally honest it's cruel, but somehow extravagantly beautiful to me.
A Perfect Circle, Nine Inch Nails, The Deftones. I like this kind of creative spark. This music is to aggressive to be pleasant, but it is incredibly inspiring and moving.
Dylan's voice is too coarse to be pretty, but it's beautiful just the same.