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[Fandom Muses] April Prompt (Misc)
Apr. 28th, 2008 03:47 pmWhat do you believe in?
I don’t know if I expected this sort of question when I agreed to this interview, to be honest. I know you’re trying to best understand the sort of experience we all had when we travelled with the Doctor. Maybe I should have. Working alongside UNIT and seeing aliens and such on Earth is one thing. Being out there, seeing the wonders of the universe first hand is something entirely different. Harry - oh, I’m sorry, Lieutenant Sullivan - has probably already attested to as much. Travelling with the Doctor changes who you are at the very core.
So, what do I believe in? When I was a child, that question was much easier to answer. Although Aunt Lavinia, being the scientist she so very much was, believed in a rational world, I found it so much easier to believe in God and Heaven. Maybe that’s the sort of thing that happens when you lose your parents at an early age. Five is far too young to become an orphan. You can’t even fully understand what had happened, the whys and hows of your mother and father never returning to you.
I needed something to cling to. I needed to believe that my parents wound up someplace beautiful. I needed to believe that my mum was up there watching me. I needed to believe that I had lost my parents for a reason. That, in essence, it was a part of God’s plan. Perhaps it was. I never would have met the Doctor if it weren’t for my aunt.
Now though? I’m not sure anymore. A part of me still wants to believe in the religion I had put my faith in as a child. But the world around me isn’t that simple anymore. I am not that simple anymore. I have faced death more times than I care to count. I’ve been responsible for the death of sentient beings. I’ve seen wonders and amazements galaxies removed from our little planet. And I’ve observed wonders and amazements on Earth, as well.
Perhaps there is some great deity – or deities – out there controlling everything. Or, perhaps, we’re all here due to some daft Timelord’s intervention. I think, when it comes down to it, I tend not to be sure of what to believe in anymore. My aunt was probably right about the rational world we live in. I don’t believe in God the same way I used to. Life, I like to think, dictates itself. It’s a spiraling whirlwind of flukes coming together in the most remarkable of ways.
I’m sorry, sir, but with the utmost respect, I cannot pinpoint my beliefs anymore. They vary with each passing day.
But a few things do remain constant. I believe in myself. I believe in any individual’s potential for greatness. And I believe in the most incredible of men: a runaway and his silly blue box.
I don’t know if I expected this sort of question when I agreed to this interview, to be honest. I know you’re trying to best understand the sort of experience we all had when we travelled with the Doctor. Maybe I should have. Working alongside UNIT and seeing aliens and such on Earth is one thing. Being out there, seeing the wonders of the universe first hand is something entirely different. Harry - oh, I’m sorry, Lieutenant Sullivan - has probably already attested to as much. Travelling with the Doctor changes who you are at the very core.
So, what do I believe in? When I was a child, that question was much easier to answer. Although Aunt Lavinia, being the scientist she so very much was, believed in a rational world, I found it so much easier to believe in God and Heaven. Maybe that’s the sort of thing that happens when you lose your parents at an early age. Five is far too young to become an orphan. You can’t even fully understand what had happened, the whys and hows of your mother and father never returning to you.
I needed something to cling to. I needed to believe that my parents wound up someplace beautiful. I needed to believe that my mum was up there watching me. I needed to believe that I had lost my parents for a reason. That, in essence, it was a part of God’s plan. Perhaps it was. I never would have met the Doctor if it weren’t for my aunt.
Now though? I’m not sure anymore. A part of me still wants to believe in the religion I had put my faith in as a child. But the world around me isn’t that simple anymore. I am not that simple anymore. I have faced death more times than I care to count. I’ve been responsible for the death of sentient beings. I’ve seen wonders and amazements galaxies removed from our little planet. And I’ve observed wonders and amazements on Earth, as well.
Perhaps there is some great deity – or deities – out there controlling everything. Or, perhaps, we’re all here due to some daft Timelord’s intervention. I think, when it comes down to it, I tend not to be sure of what to believe in anymore. My aunt was probably right about the rational world we live in. I don’t believe in God the same way I used to. Life, I like to think, dictates itself. It’s a spiraling whirlwind of flukes coming together in the most remarkable of ways.
I’m sorry, sir, but with the utmost respect, I cannot pinpoint my beliefs anymore. They vary with each passing day.
But a few things do remain constant. I believe in myself. I believe in any individual’s potential for greatness. And I believe in the most incredible of men: a runaway and his silly blue box.
