Atheist in Tunisia – Under the Same Sun (Part 1: Spirituality without Religion)
In this personal essay, I describe my perspective as an atheist in Tunisia on spirituality without religion. It’s about my relationship with nature, light, order, and meaning – and why for me amazement and connection don’t require a religious interpretation.
I worship the sun.
That’s one of those sentences where my inner know-it-all pauses briefly to check whether I’m steering myself into a mystical corner.
I’m not.
I mean it quite plainly, physically, existentially. During the cold season, I’m literally a sun worshiper. My body knows exactly what it’s missing when there’s no light. When the sun shines, I feel better. Period.
I don’t need a god for that.
I am an atheist. And yes, in large parts anti-religious as well. Religions – and much of esotericism along with them – have always been double-edged tools for me: sources of meaning on one hand, instruments of power on the other. And very often business models as well. God, this almighty, all-knowing being, really seems to have a chronic problem with money. Because apparently, he never has enough of it.
And yet I feel a deep spirituality.
Not in the supernatural, but in the natural. In cycles. In recurrence. In order. In the simple fact that we orbit a tiny planet around an average star that coincidentally provides just enough energy for us to exist. That is enough for me to be amazed. And often also to feel reverence.
Read the sky before you believe in it
It seems completely logical to me that humans have been looking at the sky for thousands of years to find answers. The sun, moon, and stars were not romantic symbols, but essentials for survival. Those who understood the cycles could sow, harvest, and plan. Archaeological evidence supports this well: solstice alignments, lunar calendars, star observations in almost all early cultures.
That was not a religion.
That was smart observation. And probably the beginning of everything that later became complicated.
But humans are not calculators. They are storytelling beings. So cycles turned into meanings, order into stories, and recurrence into hope. Myths did not arise because people were stupid, but because they needed meaning.
The sun inevitably became central. It provides light, warmth, life. It disappears and returns. Those who depend on it begin to attribute more to it than just physics. Not out of naivety – but out of experience.
Spirituality without religion – my personal perspective
For me, spirituality does not mean believing in something supernatural.
It means feeling connected without wanting to explain or possess it. Nature does not need intention. The universe does not need morals. And yet there is something that touches me.
I don’t need religion for that. Nor esotericism that explains everything to me. On the contrary: the more completely someone tries to explain the world to me, the more skeptical I become.
Maybe meaning is not in answers, but in enduring questions.
Maybe awe is not in belief, but in wonder.
Under the same sun.
And up to this point, this story should have actually ended for me.
Nature. Sky. Wonder. No dogmas, no power struggles.
That it hasn’t ended is not due to new convictions –
but because I have not stayed in the abstract.
Part 2 – Me and Islam: Why this particular religion makes me question again.
- I describe spirituality as a connection with nature, light, and order.
- For me, meaning does not require a supernatural explanation or religious systems.
- I understand historical sky observation as the origin of orientation – not of faith.
- Reverence arises for me from awe, not from dogma.
- This text forms the basis for the following part about my encounter with religion in everyday life in Tunisia.
