Archive for the 'Spirituality' Category
Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed–Propaganda At Its Finest
If you believe in god, I don’t. If you don’t, then I do. — Alan Watts, paraphrased
I like to to learn about points of view that I disagree with or flat out believe to be wrong. Learning about other points of view not only helps me clarify my own thoughts, it also sometimes changes my mind. So the other night, I watched a “documentary” about Intelligent Design called Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed. I was curious how the Creationists frame their argument that creationism–the belief that the Christian god created the earth in seven days; renamed “intelligent design” by its proponents after “creationism” was ruled to interfere with the separation of church and state when they tried to get it taught in public schools–should be given a voice in science classes so children can have a “more balanced” education.
By my use of quotation marks, you may have already surmised that my opinion about creationism is decided, and that I believe it is an irrational view. This is absolutely true. And having studied spirituality, philosophy, and religion for years now, I have sound, rational, critically-thought-out reasons for this position. I know my thoughts will evolve further, as I continue to read and study, but I am one hundred percent certain that I will never, ever be convinced that the myths of origin in the Bible are anything other than man’s early attempts to explain the mystery of existence. The crazy thing is, I do believe in intelligent design! But my belief has nothing to do with the mean-spirited, self-serving, narrow-minded, intellectually dishonest propaganda that the intelligent design supporters spout in this film.
The main premise of the film is that scientists who believe in intelligent design are being persecuted by the “Darwinian” scientific establishment (which includes the universtities and colleges, the government, the legal system, the public school system, mainstream journalism, and probably most other non-Christian based organizations). They interviewed several scientists who were fired and otherwise ostracized (for example, publicly shamed or blacklisted) for “even raising the possibility” that intelligent design could be a plausible explanation for the origins of life. From these “shocking abuses of power” and “scientific closed-mindedness,” the film goes on to ask, “What’s so threatening about intelligent design?” and “What are the Darwinians so afraid of?”
The film frames the dilemma as an issue of free speech, questioning whatever happened to the freedom to dissent and express opposing views. After all, it tells us, evolution is “only a theory.” Why, the narrator wonders, is the scientific establishment so set on quashing this alternate theory? The narrator goes on to explore Darwinism and intelligent design by interviewing several knowledgeable people in both fields. Of course, it comes to the conclusion, via carefully edited conversations and straw-man arguments, that intelligent design does, indeed, deserve an equal voice, and furthermore, that we must question the motives of the scientists who believe otherwise.
I haven’t seen such vicious intellectual dishonesty since the last Michael Moore film I watched. First of all, the film presents itself as an unbiased exploration of the evolution/intelligent design debate when in fact it was written, produced, and directed by people with an agenda to get creationism taught in public schools alongside evolution. Secondly, the proponents of intelligent design carefully omit any reference to god as the intelligent designer when in fact, their beliefs are derived explicitly from the Biblical story of creation, and the designer they neglect to name is the Christian god who they believe wrote it. (They do this to circumvent the separation of church and state so they can push their agenda in public schools, and also to create the illusion that intelligent design is a valid scientific theory.) Thirdly, in an attempt to scare people and discredit evolution, the film makes outrageous associations between Darwinism and fascism, Darwinism and communism, and Darwinism and moral bankruptcy. It went so far as to show footage of concentration camps and Nazi doctors, Joseph Stalin and Nikita Khruschev, guillotines, and other scenes of atrocity and horror, presumably to show what happens when godless philosophies are allowed to dominate society. Last but far from least, the interviews with Darwinian scientists are manipulated and edited so the audience will see what the filmmakers want them to see. For example, Richard Dawkins, one of the Darwinian scientists interviewed, saying it is possible that intelligent design, if a fact, could have originated with extraterrestrial aliens. Dawkins’ sarcasm was deliberately misinterpreted to make him look ridiculous, as were the comments of many other scientists sincerely trying to describe and explain difficult scientific concepts.
This last point was substantiated by looking into the making of the film (and most of this is old news, the film having come out over a year ago, so forgive me if you’re already familiar with the issue). The Darwinian scientists were deliberately misled by the filmmakers into believing that they were being interviewed for an impartial look at intelligent design. When some of them showed up for opening night, an event anyone could attend by signing up on the Internet, they were forcibly removed from the premises and not allowed to watch the film. For a fascinating account of this, see an article by Richard Dawkins here. Dissenting opinions were definitely not welcome.
I could go on, but I think all of this suffices as evidence that this was not a documentary, but rather, a carefully orchestrated piece of propaganda meant to look like a documentary. And this, more than anything, is what I have a problem with.
I don’t mind people believing differently than I do, even if I think their ideas are vastly incomplete (as is the case with fundamentalist religious people). Everybody is free to believe as they see fit, as long as those beliefs don’t cause harm to others. I can even abide a degree of intellectual dishonesty, as we are all always struggling for higher degrees of truth, both personally and philosophically, whether we do so consciously or not. What I absolutely can not abide is blatant propaganda deliberately meant to deceive, manipulate, and play on people’s emotions, which is what this film was. I find it chilling that these Christians intended to cloud the truth, that doing so was a calculated strategy in making a film that would get their point across. They slanted with gusto, lied with abandon, discredited without remorse, all in support of a belief that they made not a single attempt to define, describe, or explain why it deserves equal billing with evolution.
What does this say about their beliefs? More importantly, what does it say about their morals? Or more accurately, their lack thereof?
To frame this issue as minority group being persecuted by an establishment that squelches free speech and dissenting opinion is a ridiculous straw man argument that falls apart with the slightest shaking, and I believe the makers of the film know this, or they would have made some attempt somewhere in the film to make a rational case for intelligent design. This is not an issue of free speech–people are free to voice their opinions in this country, religious or otherwise. And it is not an issue of the majority squelching a minority opinion (as the fundamentalist Christians feel so justified in doing to all other religious and spiritual points of view). It is an issue of what constitutes science.
Creationism–intelligent design–is not researched in science labs or taught in science classes for one very simple reason: it is not scientific. If Christians bristle at that statement, it is only because they don’t understand what it means. Let me explain. Science concerns itself only with empirical evidence, with that which can be observed, tested, quantified, and explained. The scientific method is based on falsifiability–any claim must be able to be proven wrong by scientific testing or verifiable evidence. For example, the theory of evolution can easily be proven wrong: all that’s required is evidence that life evolves by means other than natural selection. And for the last 150 years, scientists have been quite busy looking for such evidence, which hasn’t yet been found.
On the other hand, the claim that a supernatural being created the world in seven days is neither falsifiable nor provable. You could just as easily say that the world was created by the Flying Spaghetti Monster or that a milk jug answers prayers (the answer is just always “no”). People have been searching for definitive evidence of god for centuries, and nothing substantial has been found to either support or deny his existence. Since this is a non-falsifiable claim, science doesn’t concern itself with it. So it isn’t that scientists shun intelligent design, it’s that, because it is not a testable claim, it is outside the realm of science.
And thus, does not belong in a science laboratory or classroom.
The great irony is that intelligent design is a valid explanation for the origins of life. There is a creative emergence that seems to govern all evolution; that is, it seems we are evolving toward something. But this is not how the fundamentalist proponents of intelligent design see it. They have a single, narrow agenda to attribute this design to the Christian god, and thus miss the entire point about the wonder and awe that anything is alive at all; by fighting for their tree, they miss the entire forest. And because of this, they debate with science on its own terms, thereby getting it wrong every time. They think they need to defeat science or somehow win an argument with science, which they cannot do and do not need to do to maintain validity.
Science and religion are separate provinces. They complement each other. They fill in gaps for each other. What religion does–offer hope, faith, comfort, moral guidance, etc.–science can not. What science does–answer questions about the natural world, raise the quality of life, etc.–religion can not. There is no need for competition or debate between the two; they serve separate, but equally important, purposes.
This is probably difficult for anyone who interprets the Bible literally, as Christian fundamentalists do, to understand. They are, as Joseph Campbell eloquently said, “stuck in the metaphor,” which means that they use myth to substantiate their beliefs as facts. Such literal interpretation is problematic, to say the least, for more rationally minded people, and is the root of all the problems between science and religion. Even sadder, however, is that such literal interpretation fails to recognize the true meaning of the myths.
Fundamentalists don’t understand their own religion, and I find this sad indeed. They focus on defending myth as fact and on forcing this hopeless and pointless agenda onto a world that has outgrown it–an agenda that has nothing to do with morality, spiritual enlightenment, or improving the quality of life on the planet. They would do better to busy themselves with understanding the myths of their own religion, how they can be applied to their own lives today, and how doing so could help ease the suffering of the modern world, which is definitely a spiritual dilemma, but absolutely not a religious one. (For an interesting study of this, see Rollo May’s The Cry for Myth
Intelligent design is a valid idea about the origins of life, but not from the fundamentalist viewpoint, which misunderstands almost completely what this really means. This would be sad if it weren’t for their tactics, which make them pathetic and despicable–a sad display for those interested in seeking a spiritual path, atheist and non-atheist alike, and even for fundamentalists who have any interest in gaining the respect of those who disagree with them.
What is Happiness?
It may not seem so at first glance, but this is true for happiness, as well. Like any worthwhile achievement, happiness is not something we’re born with or something that happens to us. We may be entitled to it, or at least to the freedom to pursue it (at least, I believe that we are), but it is not a natural or automatic state at all. For that matter, neither is unhappiness–we are born with a blank slate. But since happiness requires more effort than unhappiness, it is, I think, more misunderstood than unhappiness.
Both happiness and unhappiness are broad terms with many possible interpretations, so here’s what I mean by these words. By “happiness,” I mean that you have a sense of contentment about who you are, a sense of confidence in your ability to solve most of the problems in your life, and an overall outlook of serenity most of the time. By this definition, happiness isn’t a feeling of glee when things go your way; rather, it is having a basically good relationship with yourself. This means self-acceptance, self-forgiveness, and a decent understanding of your strengths and limitations, as well as an ability to have decent relationships. Of course there are other elements as well, but these cover the basics.
Unhappiness, then, is mostly the opposite. You do not like who you are, you lack confidence in your ability to solve your problems, you have little serenity, and your basic relationship with yourself is shaky: you have trouble with self-acceptance and with self-forgiveness. This lack of grounding causes doubt and insecurity, making you susceptible to approval seeking and basing your sense of worth on other people’s opinions of you. Again, there is more to it, but this is the main gist.
Happiness defined this way is mostly independent of external circumstances. Sure, even the happiest people will sometimes feel sad in the face of adversity and bad luck, or experience bouts of depression at certain times in their lives; that’s just part of the human condition, I think. I am not discounting the role circumstances can play in a person’s life. But it is important to understand that circumstances alone cannot shape a person’s internal attitude. People overcome adversity all the time to triumph over unlucky and unfortunate life situations, while people born with tremendous advantages can also be tremendously unhappy.
This is because happiness is something that must be earned.
Note that I am not talking about the happiness we feel when something good happens. While this could be considered a form of happiness, it is a fleeting one, more accurately called excitement, which is a short-term reaction to a temporary event. Many people mistake excitement for happiness. They try to find happiness in thrill-seeking, living life from one peak to the next. Or, they keep themselves chronically distracted from their internal world with external stimuli, thinking that this is true pleasure. (This is one reason advertising works as well as it does. If people believe happiness has an external source, then this is where they will look for it.)
Romantic love, many people’s ideal of happiness, is not something that simply befalls you, either. The giddy emotion of early romance is situational; that is to say, it is excitement, it is not true happiness. The real happiness of romantic love is the result of two people willing to be vulnerable and honest with each other and assume equal responsibility for the work of doing so. This is not to say there is no pleasure in the early stages of love, because of course, there is. But much heartache could be avoided if people were more clear that the excitement of new love and the long-term satisfaction of a committed partnership are very different things, indeed.
Thus, without a strong sense of who you are, I believe it is impossible to be truly happy; that is, to have happiness as a default view of life. Happiness will simply be a fleeting emotion, dependent upon the people and circumstances in your life at any given moment, without a deeper connection to your deepest values and desires. Is this what people really want? I don’t think so.
So rather than as an emotion, happiness is better defined as the result of sustained effort to live life a certain way: with as much integrity, honor, sincerity, compassion, introspection, and honesty as we are able to practice, with a commitment to internally derived values arrived at through critical analysis and willingness to do the right thing. No one can do all of this perfectly, of course (at least, not outside of an Ayn Rand novel). But it is the effort, not the outcome, that will determine the level of serenity you achieve in life. Seen this way, happiness is more a by-product of “right living” than it is an end in itself.
You may argue that people get “lucky,” being in the right place at the right time. Yes. But what does this really mean? I believe there is one of two things occurring when this happens. First, there is the “luck” of the successful. Successful people often have some good fortune along their path. But they prepare themselves for this. They work hard and study and put themselves in the path of the success, moving to the city of their chosen field, seeking entry level positions and working their way up, getting involved and getting to know people who can help them, and developing a good reputation. When they’re in the right place at the right time, it is usually because they made a concerted effort to be there.
Fate, on the other hand, requires no preparation. Winning the lottery, for example, or having rich parents, or being born beautiful, or anything else that comes by no personal effort. But what kind of luck is this, really? Does getting something for nothing ever improve your relationship with yourself, or create an opportunity for introspection, or raise the value you put on hard work, honesty, or compassion? In short, does it do anything to help you develop into a more whole human being? If not, you must question whether there are any benefits at all to this kind of luck, and if it has any power at all to bring true happiness. I believe that it does not.
This is not to say that luck plays no role in people’s lives. Sometimes we can do everything right and have nothing to show for it; other times we can do everything wrong and come out in great shape. Life is far from fair. But again, if happiness is based on internal values, then external circumstances can do little to change that. The more centered a person is, the more circumspectly he can deal with all the pain and suffering that life throws at him. Again, such centeredness is an ongoing process, with infinite height and depth, but if held as a value, even the worst possible circumstances can theoretically be faced with dignity, grace, and serenity.
Happiness, then, is not only a by-product of a life well-lived, it’s also kind of a non-issue. It can be achieved only by not trying; only by the effort to make good choices and do the next right thing, and not as end in itself. But this is good news, because it means it is not an elusive, mysterious entity available to a chosen few. The power to attain it is within all of us right now, this very moment. Understand this, and you are well on your way.
Hard Work Works, Too, For Being Present
In Be Thankful for Bad Drivers and Other Annoying Things, I wrote that mundane, everyday feelings provide a way into being in the Now (and that learning to live in the Now is the key to what the Buddhists call Enlightenment). Just to clarify, I’m not sure irritation and annoyance are what we want to be experiencing in the present moment, but recognizing them when they’re there can lead to more present moment awareness, and such awareness will inevitably lead to different, less volatile reactions.
Another way to bring yourself into the present moment is physical exertion. When your body is working hard, it’s very, very difficult to be anywhere other than present with it. Your lungs gasp for air. Sweat drips into your eyes and down your back. Your muscles scream for relief. You ache from the effort! And you try to think about other things, but nothing really works. No matter how hard you try, you are stuck in the present moment with your physical discomfort, however unpleasant it may be.
Being present with your body is a benefit of exercise that rarely gets talked about. Whether you are aware of it or not, you are completely in the Now when focused on bodily activities. There is really no other place you can be. It is an unpleasant present moment, much like being annoyed by other people’s mundane self-absorption. But with awareness and acceptance, it, too can be a way into enlightenment.
This also happens during long periods of meditation. In fact, they don’t even have to be that long for most people. My feet start going to sleep after about 20 minutes of sitting in a semi-lotus position and my lower back starts to get stiff. The longest sit I ever did, at a retreat a few years back, was 90 minutes. After the first 30 or so minutes, I was in great physical pain. Both feet were asleep, my butt felt like raw bone grinding against the floor, and my back and shoulders throbbed with pain. But all I could do was endure, even though all I could think about was how excruciatingly uncomfortable I was. After awhile, though, I realized that the pain was happening in the present and that I was in the present because I was unable to distract myself from it. I felt an opening up and a joy in that very discomfort–this was a moment of surrender to the Now. When people say they don’t want to meditate because it’s so uncomfortable, I think they’re missing the point. The discomfort is as much an opportunity to be present with yourself as is the silence. I think the monks who teach the practice understand this and even depend on it to teach people something about being in the Now.
So instead of trying to avoid feeling what’s going on in your body, immerse yourself in it. Try to be aware of every breath and every sweat droplet and every muscle cramp vying for your attention. Since we all experience physical exertion to some degree on a regular basis, it is an excellent opportunity to observe yourself being in the Now and take note of what that feels like.
Be Thankful for Bad Drivers and Other Annoying Things
So I’m reading Eckhart Tolle’s book The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment
I’ve done much meditation over the years and have had several fleeting experiences in my life of what Mr. Tolle calls Being—that is, being fully conscious and present without thoughts, in a state best described as beyond thought, that feels complete and blissful and like coming Home. If you’ve ever had the experience of a few moments of total bliss or utter clarity, then you’ve had these experiences, too. According to many spiritual teachers (including Mr. Tolle), this is our natural state, the Enlightened state, there before we were born and continuing after we die (and in my own words, the real meaning of “heaven” or “eternity.”)
But it’s difficult to stay in that state. You would think that being our True Nature, it should be simple, but it isn’t, I think because it’s so ever-present that it’s like trying to see our own eyes or bite our own teeth (to paraphrase Alan Watts). And the demands of the world are pressing, constantly pulling us away from this lovely, subtle place. The physical world is the one that seems the most real. It’s the world we live in the most, and it requires thought, the use of our minds, to successfully navigate! So how could we possibly survive without thought, beyond thought?
We can’t, of course. And no one is suggesting that we ought. But just because this is so doesn’t mean the mind has to run amok all the time, which is an entirely different thing than using it to survive. If you assess your thoughts honestly, you will see that a small fraction of them are actually necessary for survival; the rest are simply excretions of the brain that are completely non-essential, and in some cases harmful, as they are permeated by negativity, anxiety, and fear. Learning to move past this obsessive thinking, this unnecessary habit we’ve had for our lifetimes is, I think, an extremely valuable thing. It is, in fact, the ultimate in “personal growth,” “personal development,” and “self-improvement,” because whatever you call it, it is what all of us are searching for, whether we are aware of it or not. There is no amount of self-esteem building, economic success, or anything else in the “world of constructs,” as the Buddhists call it, that compares.
Living in the Now is hard. There is so much past to ruminate on and so much future to fret about. How do we learn not to do this? Well, there are many, many methods out there, far too many for me to discuss with any authority. I can provide an introduction, but you will have to seek them out for yourself. Google “Eckhart Tolle” or “Buddhism” or “meditation” or “always already” and you will have more results than you can imagine. Or go to a library or bookstore and you will find numerous shelves full of books on this topic. Believe me, there is no shortage of guidance out there, and I doubt there could be a better way to spend your time if it’s something you’re at all curious about.
So, instead of trying to explain Enlightenment, which I couldn’t possibly do, what I really want to address is living in the present moment. More specifically, one really simple thought about it that came to me today while I was driving around running errands. Most of us don’t think about this consciously, but when we’re feeling strong emotions (and not simply thinking about our emotions, which is very different), we are, indeed, in the Now. Joy, surprise, fear, anger, all can only be experienced in the Now. When we respond to a child’s delight, we are responding to that wonderful capacity to be fully present; we recognize its profundity even if we don’t know we recognize it. Also, things like creativity or orgasm; really, focused mental energy of any kind can only be experienced in the Now. When you’re focused on one act or feeling, your you kind of dissolves away and there is only the act, or the feeling, in the utter clarity of the present moment.
Although they’re nice when they happen and certainly something to be cherished, the sublime moments don’t come along all that often, and if we wait for them to experience the present moment, or to find meaning in our lives, we will miss out on much of life itself. It’s a cliché, I know, but life is not so much about all the shining golden times as it is about the in-between spaces that fill the bulk of existence. There is, I realized, a multitude of opportunities to be in the Now in all the mundane, daily events of our lives. Every single moment has the potential to pull us into the Now; we just have to learn how to pay attention.
It’s easy to see that the “stop and smell the roses” moments can bring us into the Now: natural beauty, a playful puppy, or poignant music, for example, can make us pause long enough to be fully present. But as I was running errands, I realized that this works for everything else, too. All the bad drivers, rude cashiers, poor service, loud cell phone conversations, and everything else that annoys me holds the potential to bring me into the Now. Because when I’m angry about other people’s rudeness or incompetence, I’m in the present moment! And these moments are common for me, so they provide a wonderful opportunity to notice being in the Now. With this attitude, not only can I learn from my own shortcomings, I can cherish them for what they have to offer me.
It may be different things for you. The point is not the annoyance; it’s discovering that the rather bland emotions you most frequently experience can be a channel into the Now. And not just emotions, but anything that brings about focused concentration for you, anything from driving to listening to music to playing a video game. Notice how you feel at these times, when the you is suspended and there is just the moment, and you will have begun learning what it is to be in the Now.
What a fascinating idea, that the most ordinary feelings and events evoked by everyday life can have so much to offer. And yet I am certain that this is true. Pausing to feel, to just be present with whatever that feeling may be, to breathe and to rest and to embrace, is really, ultimately, all there is. It is the key to happiness in the only way it really matters.
Saying Grace
When I was little and I ate over at my grandma’s house, she always said, “Come Lord Jesus and be our guest, and let these gifts to us be blessed, amen” before the meal. My parents weren’t religious, so this was my earliest exposure to saying grace. My grandmother said it hurriedly, mouthing the words like meaningless sounds and not as though she actually wanted Jesus to show up and eat with us. I thought it was dumb; it sounded exactly like all the goofy little poems my friends and I said to each other. No wonder my parents didn’t take religion very seriously. Even at that tender age, I could see, or at least intuit, its shortcomings.
I’ve kind of changed my mind since then about saying grace. Not because I came to respect my grandma’s beliefs (I haven’t). I still think the way most Christians say grace seems silly and largely pointless. Whatever they’re trying to accomplish with their hurried words, I don’t understand. (If I were God, I would not appreciate such insincerity one bit, much less reward it with eternal bliss.)
But a few years ago, I did a silent retreat at a Buddhist meditation center. I am no more Buddhist than I am Christian, but the Buddhists do seem to have a better understanding of why they do certain things, which makes it easier for me to look past some of the dogmatism (which is inevitable in any belief system) and focus on the practices of silence and meditation, both things I wanted to delve into. It was at this retreat that I first began to understand the real meaning behind saying grace before a meal.
While mainstream Christians perform rituals out of rote habit or because they’re afraid they won’t make it into heaven if they don’t, Buddhists perform rituals for more rational reasons, such as deepening compassion and dispelling pride. (At least, this is true for most Buddhism practiced by those who grew up in Western cultures. From what I understand, many who are raised Buddhist practice it much like mainstream Christians practice their religion, which is to say, without a lot of sincerity or interest–but that is another topic.) The Buddhist equivalent of of saying grace, is a ritual meant to deepen understanding about the fundamental connection and interdependence of everything in the Universe.
How does saying grace accomplish this?
Well, much like the Christian version of grace, the Buddhist version is about gratitude. But rather than give thanks to a cosmic father figure, you instead, for those few moments, contemplate everything that was involved in that food being there for your nourishment and enjoyment. You think about all the people involved in the meal: the cook, the grocery store employees, the factory workers, the farmers, the seed growers, the engineers and chemists and biologists who produced the seed, for example. You think about all the elements necessary for that food to be there: the sun, the rain, the nutrients in the soil, the spinning of the earth. If you are having meat, you think about the animal whose life was sacrificed for your hunger, and feel some appreciation for him and for the cycle of life and death of which we are all a part. Maybe you think about the government, with its laws and controls that make it unlikely that any of this food will make you ill. And you think about the people you’re eating with, how they fit into your life and how precious this time, this moment of sharing and sustenance, is for all of you. There are many other directions you can go in as well, but I think I’ve gotten the idea across: that if you contemplate even a few of these things, it becomes difficult to eat the meal without some sense of reverence for the food in front of you and for the vast, amazing interconnectedness of everything in the Universe that makes our being alive possible at all.
The point of grace, then, is to create a pause in the busi-ness of everyday life to re-connect with the higher, deeper, more profound aspects of our humanity, however you define those terms. It fits with any belief system, as its only purpose is to elevate thinking and awareness. Seen in this way, grace ceases to be a silly dogmatic ritual that’s far too easy to dismiss and poke fun at, and instead becomes an act of commitment to deeper understanding of this thing called life. If you want a rational reason for doing it, or at least for seeing its practice in a less harsh light, I can’t think of a better one.
I suppose you could think of giving thanks to a heavenly father as a sort of shorthand for all of this. But that kind of shorthand is a step removed from actually noticing the truly miraculous nature of the present moment, of life, of conscious awareness. In the shorthand version–just thanking god for everything–it is still possible to achieve that sense of awe, but it becomes much easier to avoid it. Which is what my grandma was doing, which is what most mainstream Christians do, and which misses the point about the practice almost entirely. I know it isn’t just Christians, that people of other faiths also miss the point of many of their rituals, and that, conversely, there are Christians who are sincere and who do understand the point of what they’re doing; I don’t mean to pick on Christians exclusively. However, some 90 percent of Americans claim to be Christian, yet from what I’ve read and observed, most of these people practice their faith much like my grandmother did.
And that’s sad, because it means that most people don’t understand their own religion, that they have no meaningful ties to their own spiritual practices.
Anyway, it’s easy to make fun of religious rituals that don’t have deeper ties to values, or scoff at rituals practiced because of irrational beliefs. But most rituals are at least rooted in some rational purpose and, when practiced with sincerity, can have beneficial results. I’m not saying that we should all begin practicing rituals or even that that would be desirable (I don’t know if it would be or not). But if some practice helps you be more understanding, compassionate, circumspect, or connected, shouldn’t you at least keep an open mind about it?
We Are Already Whole…So What?
The very day I posted “When Do You Feel Most Alive?” I stumbled upon an article about already being whole. The article is talking about the same thing I am, but the approach is from a different angle. It says that we are already whole, so our wounds need not define us because they are not our real selves: our Real Selves existed before the wounds came along, and if we can dig deeply enough to realize our inherent Wholeness, we no longer have to suffer.
I agree with the basic premise–that we are already Whole–one hundred percent. But I think there’s some confusion in the world of personal growth, particularly in those areas that emphasize a spiritual path toward wholeness, as opposed to Wholeness. The lower-case wholeness refers to ego (or self, if you prefer) soothing, healing, and development, while Wholeness is about ego-transcendence–achieving enlightenment. They are equally important (I know many would argue with that), but very different processes. When the gist is that thoughts about your inherent Wholeness can allow you to bypass ego soothing/healing/development altogether, serious problems can ensue.
We are all already Whole, all already aware, all already enlightened. I’ve had those sublime moments of awareness myself, and they have changed me and how I look at the world much, much, much for the better. But as far as finding comfort for my wounds, my question about this sublime awareness is, “So what?” Because finding comfort from such an awareness is temporary at best, illusory at worst, and chasing after it in order to feel better largely sidesteps the ego healing process, a process absolutely essential to a person’s sense of well being. (It also misses the point about the awareness itself almost entirely, but that is mostly another topic.)
The awareness we’re both talking about is that of nonduality, the belief that everything in the Universe is one Entity. Success Consciousness.com describes it like this:
“The philosophy of Nonduality, or as it is called in India, Advaita-Vedanta, says that there is just One Spirit in the Universe, and that everything, living or inanimate, is an inseparable and indivisible part of this One Spirit. Nonduality further says that it is only illusion, caused by the mind and the play of the senses, which makes us regard the world and everything in it as real and separate from us.”
The illusion of separation is called, then, duality, and it is the world the vast majority of us experience a vast majority of the time (permanent enlightenment occurring in less than one percent of the population). In the dualistic world, our default outlook is one of separation–separation of self from others, separation of mind from body, separation of ego from Wholeness. We live this way because, in a very real sense, we’ve forgotten our True Nature. But the True Nature is always present–so present and so much a part of us (or really, we of it) that it’s like trying to see air, which is why it can be difficult to access, particularly with a thinking, worrying mind. When one has a “peek” experience into nondual awareness (which can occur spontaneously in moments when the mind is off guard, or through sustained effort like meditation or some other practice), there is a sense of sublime serenity and confidence in the rightness of the experience. Unfortunately, these peek experiences are fleeting, and without some formal effort at sustaining them, they fade away into the practical demands of the dualistic world.
So yes, we are already Whole. But what does this really mean? If you take the logic to its fullest conclusion, it means that you don’t have to do anything. You don’t need to meditate or try to quiet your thoughts. No action is required to become Whole because you already are; further, no action can make you whole, because you already are. Conversely, any action you choose to take makes no difference whatsoever. There is nothing you can do or not do in this dualistic world that affects your True Nature in any way.
Remember also that this Wholeness extends beyond human beings. Everything in the Universe is a perfect manifestation of this Wholeness, pristine and exactly as it should be right now. This includes not only nature and music and art, but also toxic waste dumps, the AIDS virus, genocide, global warming, slavery, suicide, abusive parents, everything. If you accept the premise of being already Whole, then you must apply it everywhere, to everything, as that is the basic definition of nonduality (as I understand it). You, me, and the entire Universe are whole and perfect in every way, always and forever. I believe this to be absolutely true.
And yet, doesn’t it seem absurd to say there is no need to work for social change, no need to search for a cure for AIDS, no need to take better care of our planet, no need to address abusive parenting, no need to try to improve the human quality of life or help to ease suffering in any way? In the absolute sense, this is the exactly the case, which is probably why one stereotypical image of an enlightened guru is someone who lives alone in a cave–such a person has decided there is no point in making any other effort. And he is right, and such a decision is just fine from a nondual point of view.
However, most people who achieve permanent enlightenment make the effort to teach. Even though they understand the inherent Wholeness of everything just as it is, they choose to help others have that same understanding. Many of them also have opinions about social justice, politics, the environment, and most of the other ten thousand things in the world of conditions. This is because in the dualistic world, some forms of wholeness are better than others. I don’t fully understand why, but paradoxical as it sounds, taking action toward “better” wholeness is the best decision for most of us most of the time.
Since our ego–our conditioned self–is part of the dualistic world, it requires care, nurturing, and a movement toward “better” wholeness. And the belief that we are already Whole has very little to do with that process. Yes, this thought may provide comfort, but such comfort does little to help the healing process. According to Chogyam Trungpa, a great Tibetan master, relying on the belief of Wholeness to comfort our ego is a form of spiritual materialism, which he wrote about in his classic book, Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism (Shambhala Library)
“Spiritual materialism is the belief that a certain temporary state of mind is a refuge from suffering. An example would be using meditation practices to create a peaceful state of mind, or using drugs or alcohol to remain in a numbed out or a blissful state. …these states are temporary and merely heighten the suffering when they cease. So attempting to maintain a particular emotional state of mind as a refuge from suffering, or constantly pursuing particular emotional states of mind like being in love, will actually lead to more long term suffering.”
It might shock you to think that spiritual practice is not about feeling better, but in its purest form, it isn’t. If the goal is Enlightenment, then spiritual practice is simply, clearly, and exclusively about understanding the true nature of the Universe. Yes, such practice may eventually allow you to transcend your ego, but transcendence is not discounting or diminishing, as a lot of people seem to believe. Transcendence is something else altogether; it can only occur from permanent enlightenment, and until that occurs, the ego plays the lead role in our lives. So the ego is important. Understanding it to the best of our ability is important. And soothing it–feeling better–is important, too; it just isn’t really the point of spiritual practice.
People want to believe that such “spiritual soothing” works because it is vastly simpler and less demanding than all the messy, painful, unpleasant work required to put the pieces of a wounded self/ego back together. They want to believe that the ego doesn’t matter so they can focus on easier problems. But–once again–the ego does matter. Its wholeness determines much about how our lives will play out. A clear spiritual path can certainly help with healing, but it is not the path, nor can it be. Healing the ego is a psychological process, and there are no shortcuts for it, spiritual or otherwise. Intellectual reminders of Wholeness might sometimes be helpful, but more typically, they’re diversions from the real work. And while seeking temporary relief, real issues continue to fester away inside of us.
(Ken Wilber, the great writer and philosopher, does a much better job than I can of describing the ego’s importance here, and also in any number of his books, which I recommend highly to anybody interested in pursuing this topic.)
So yes, we are already Whole. Absolutely and incontrovertibly. And I enjoy being reminded of that. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be working toward ever greater understanding, in the world and in ourselves. Our Wholeness doesn’t depend on it, but our wholeness does.
When Do You Feel Most Alive?
Many of life’s great moments occur when you transcend your ego, shed your identity, and get lost in something bigger than yourself. This might seem ironic–forgetting yourself to feel most alive–but it isn’t. Our ego, the part of ourselves which we identify as “me,” is only a small part of who we are. It is the part that makes us feel separate and isolated, and while a strong ego is essential to a sense of well being (I discuss this here), the ability to transcend the ego is equally essential. Doing so makes us feel connected to the Universe, and that is our most real and most basic identity.
Getting out of yourself doesn’t necessarily mean helping others, although that is one simple way to have this experience. Getting “lost” in something bigger than yourself can also mean looking at beautiful art or listening to beautiful music or having an orgasm or riding a motorcycle on a mountain pass or reveling in natural beauty. Being “lost” in your own work and creativity is also a form of feeling most alive. At its very best, personal achievement is a channel of that Thing that is bigger than your own ego. Many great artists have described their creative drive in this way.
The point is to pay attention to the activities that evoke this feeling in you, and to cultivate those activities in your life. It’s really about awareness; about becoming, in a very real sense, an objective observer of your own self. The more attuned you are to what’s going on and why and how it came about, the better choices you can make for yourself. And this is an infinite process we can always engage in, improve upon, and enjoy.
As you become better at noticing when you feel most alive, a few other interesting things begin to happen. One is that you also get better at observing other thoughts and emotions, and in observing them, they can gain or lose power as you wish: you develop a greater sense of control over what you’ve previously felt was beyond control. And the other, even more interesting thing is that when you begin studying and examining when you feel most alive, you learn to experience that sense in all your activities. From washing dishes to driving to getting dressed, every action and activity takes on the potential to remind you Who and What you really are, thus reminding you of the great wonder of consciousness and the Great Awe of which we are all manifestations.
God or Not God, It’s the Same Thing
All religions, you see, are man-made, and being mad-made, are subject to the same fallibilities as other man-made things. This doesn’t make religion wrong, per se, just…limited. Once upon a time, religion was the only science we had–the only method we knew of to solve life’s greatest mysteries: where we come from, why we’re here, what happens when we die. It’s no coincidence that all the world’s religions share these existential themes, as these are the themes man has struggled with since his first moments of comprehension. The details, of course, are different, each having been superimposed on the Great Awe by limited minds struggling to understand it. Yet kernels of existential truths can be found in each one if you look hard enough. (Jesus of Nazareth’s story is a great example of this. When he vainly tried to explain his Great Awe experience, we pounced on it, intuitively sensing the fundamental truth in his words, but for the most part, vastly misunderstanding the message. Like a great cosmic game of Telephone, he was eventually elevated to savior status while the rest of us fell from grace by sheer fact of having been born. What Jesus described was very different from how it all turned out, but his message is still discernible, and has been practiced down through the ages by Christian mystics like the Apostle Paul, St. Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Thomas Merton, and many others.)
Anyway, since all religions are man-made, with unique cultural roots, and these cultures sprang from complex combinations of climate, terrain, resources, and serendipity, it seems ludicrous to me to call one religion “absolute truth” and another “blasphemy.” Any being capable of creating a universe would also be capable of sharing His True Nature with His creations, were it important to do so. Of course, many people–from all different persuasions and factions within persuasions–will claim God has shared His True Nature with mankind, and those who don’t see it are lost souls. In fact, this claim is the source of much unrest and violence through the ages, as one culture tries to force its image of truth onto another in the name of salvation. Which to me is only further evidence that religion is man-made, and fighting over it one of the darkest, most tragically pointless themes in all of human history.
You might think science would rescue us from all of this, definitively deciding the debate once and for all. But even setting aside irrational refusal by some to acknowledge incontrovertible evidence (evolution being the obvious example of this), scientific progress has only made life’s great questions even more mind boggling. The discovery of subatomic particles showed us how little we really understand about the physical world. And when Hubble photographed that dark spot in space, revealing millions of previously unseen galaxies, it only made us sit back and feel humbled. In a great dialectic of progress, the more knowledge science accumulates, the more questions it creates. Unlike religion, science does not have dogmatism limiting its capacity to seek truth (thank goodness), and even though it has shown us the great limitations of these dogmatic beliefs, it has done little to actually prove or disprove the existence of god.
This is so because whether or not god exists is an unanswerable question. You can really go either way with it. When you understand the immense complexity of intelligent life, it becomes hard to believe that such life evolved on its own, without a divine plan of some sort at work. Yet it’s equally hard to believe that a divine being would create such a flawed world, so full of suffering, misery and violence–what sort of cruel cosmic joke is that?
No matter which way I go, and I’ve moved in both directions back and forth throughout my life, I can find no solution. Under these circumstances, I can see why some choose dogmatic belief, if only to soothe their anxiety about existential mysteries. If all things were equal (which they unfortunately aren’t, true believers being far too comfortable imposing their beliefs on others), it seems only marginally worse to me than believing in no supreme being at all.
So, rather than debate this unanswerable question (or worse, give in to a reductionistic belief system because it offers the path of least resistance), I think it far more productive to simply appreciate the Magnificent Mystery of the Kosmos. To ponder the wonder of being alive at all. Of being capable of such pondering. Of the mind that creates and the body that functions as if by magic. Of the fact that where there was once molten rock, there is now Bach. Of the vast Universe of which our planet is such a miniscule part, smaller in scale than a quark in an atom. Ponder the wonder, and revel in the resulting sense of Awe. That is the closest you’ll ever get to God, however you choose to define Him.
When you start pondering the great mystery of existence, and that of the kosmos from whence it sprang, god or not god becomes a moot point. We don’t know how, and we don’t know why, and it doesn’t matter. Whether or not there is an unseen hand at work in the Universe doesn’t matter! God or not god, it doesn’t matter. We can never know for sure, so it just does not matter. If we accept that, then we can get on with living our lives from that wonderful place of the Great Awe, the place that understands, perhaps even worships, the preciousness of awareness. I call this “spirituality,” and the idea of god is only tangentially related to it. If He is up there, paying any attention at all, I’m confident this would please Him. If he isn’t, well, our sense of wonder is not affected in the least.
God or not god, it doesn’t matter. Either way you go you end up in the same place. But once you get there, the Great Awe you discover there makes questions such as Will the real savior please stand up? just seem silly.
Culture Club
Culture: 1. Breeding, education, sophistication. 2. The ideas and values of a peop
le. — Dictionary.com
Recently, due to miscellaneous circumstances that don’t have a lot to do with each other, I’ve been getting a lot of culture in my life. In less than a month, I’ve seen New York City for the first time (which was a culture shock of the most wonderful variety!), I’ve seen some of the greatest works of art known to man, and I’ve been to two classical music concerts and a live stand-up comedy show. It’s the busiest month I’ve had in a long time, but also one of the most exhilarating. It got me thinking about how important culture is to my sense of well-being.
When people talk about nurturing the soul/spirit, it’s usually associated with “getting out in nature” or “getting away from it all.” No doubt, spending time in nature is important. I’ve had some of my most uplifting moments while listening to the waves on Lake Superior or gazing into the billowing night forest. I am in no way diminishing the necessity of immersion in the beauty of nature. But I’ve come to realize that culture is important, too, because it’s just as soul-nourishing as nature, although in very different ways.
By culture, I suppose I mean–and I had to think about this–appreciating mankind’s creative capacity. This is different from entertainment in that when entertaining ourselves, as with watching television or going to a movie, we aren’t compelled to think about things any differently than we do in our everyday existence. The couch or even the local movie theater is a comfort zone, and being in one’s comfort zone makes it difficult to overcome the inertia of our normal way of seeing the world. It happens, but it isn’t the norm.
When you travel to other parts of the country or world, or visit an art museum, or attend a live performance, you put yourself in a position to be shaken out of your complacency. You are actively seeking to be stimulated in a way that makes you think about your life differently. You are making an effort to understand how other people view the world, to expand your horizons. You may not frame it that way, particularly if the culture is something like stand-up comedy, but that’s what you’re doing.
How does culture do this? That’s a complicated question. People have been trying to define art for centuries, to explain how and why something is art and something else is not. Some schools of thought are that art lies solely in the creation itself; others say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and others maintain that the observer must know the artist’s mind to fully appreciate his work. I think all of these are true, but not exclusive, ideas: each has a validity and logic and allows appreciation on different levels. Beyond that, I don’t have an answer. What I do know is that there is something sublime about human creativity, whether making or observing. Creativity seems to be part of our spiritual calling, our cry to the Universe that we exist and that we matter. It’s an innate drive we all have, and I think that when we gaze upon great creations, or listen to great music, or watch people put their creativity on display to no end other than its own sake, a sort of magic occurs, a connection between people, often strangers, that wasn’t there before. And this connection is of the highest order. It takes place between two people who have recognized and responded to one of the noblest aspects of humanity. I think when you’ve had such a lofty experience, you never see the world in quite the same way again. The transformation might be big or it might be small, but if you’ve ever felt your spirit lifted by human creativity, you know it’s a feeling that stays with you for the rest of your life, in one way or another.
I’ve always been aware of this, of course-on some level, everybody is. I just hadn’t given it a lot of thought before, and probably wouldn’t have now if I hadn’t had so much cultural exposure, of such a variety, in such a short time. It was this inundation that made me step back, compare and contrast, and really consider the role of art–and its appreciation, which I’m calling culture–in my life. Culture not only puts me in contact with beautiful things, it reminds me of the greatest and most wonderful achievements man is capable of. And in so doing, it reminds me that I, too, have a creative spirit calling for fruition, and that humanity, at its best, is very good indeed.
This is important to recognize, every bit as important as enjoying the beauty of nature. And if you live in a city, as I do, it’s actually easier to expose yourself to culture than to nature. So I’ve decided to make culture a regular habit. At least once a month, I’m going to go to a museum or live performance, whether it be music, theater, or comedy, and I’m going to develop my appreciation for the creative process. Because there is something god-like (whatever that means) in our capacity to create, something transformative. To recognize that is not only to recognize the best in humanity, but the best in ourselves. The capacity to create exists within every human being, so to better appreciate it is to better appreciate ourselves. I’ve always known this intuitively, but I’m glad I have more clarity now about what a truly significant thing it is.
That, in a nutshell, is what culture does for you.
What Is Personal Growth, Anyway?
“It is not a question of whether man chooses to be guided by philosophy: he is not equipped to live without it.”-Ayn Rand
This probably should have been my first post, but better late than never.
What is “personal growth” anyway, and why does it matter?
I’ve been thinking about this for awhile now. The term is so vague and broad-ranging that you can apply it to almost anything. Much personal development (just a fancier word for growth), for example, is concerned with how to make money. Other branches of personal development focus on improving self-discipline, becoming more efficient, or more goal-oriented. Yet others have to do with improving relationships as a way to success, or even with “finding love.” All fine pursuits.
The “personal growth” I (and countless others) write about has a focus on the internal–on living a life most closely aligned with your highest values (a pursuit I call spiritual, although I shy away from that term for obvious reasons). Because my personal history is one of invalidation and abuse, and all the logical outcomes of that–addiction, low self-esteem, shame, struggles with relationships, etc.–I write about “personal growth” from this angle. For me, it’s a “journey toward wholeness” because that’s how it’s always felt to me, even when I was too young to have a name for it.
And yet, I actually dislike the term “personal growth.” It has a rather self-absorbed feel, conjuring images of people overly caught up in neurotic efforts to fix themselves. I feel I’m really growing as a person. What does that mean? The broadness of the term makes it almost impossible to know, although when actually uttered aloud, such phrases almost always have a narcissistic bent, so much so that you dread asking for clarification. Maybe it’s all the time I spent in AA meetings and therapy, but my experience has been that when people begin a dialogue this way, they’re far more concerned with avoiding some painful truth about themselves than with any actual awareness. I’d much rather hear about an honest emotional struggle. But people are usually too afraid to talk about that stuff because they don’t want others to see how broken they still feel inside-as if that’s something to be ashamed of. I think this is why I dislike the term so much. It implies deficiency, that there is some way we need to change because we’re not okay the way we are. And this is simply not the case.
We are not deficient. We are simply…incomplete. Born helpless with no way to go but up; a blank slate waiting to be filled. For anyone with a functioning human mind, growth is life, and stagnation is death. So in a very real sense, “personal growth” really just means being human. So what has become a cliche of modern life (the focus on such growth being a fairly recent historical development) really speaks to what I believe is our inevitable human condition: the impulse to “grow.” As Ayn Rand (and countless others) points out, it’s only a question of how we choose to do that.
Growth is the essence of life, and remains so from the first breath to the last. This process is easy to see in children, who are like dry little sponges thirsting for knowledge, adventure, and self-sufficiency on every level. But when we reach adulthood, it’s not so simple. The growth process can get obscured by many things, often to the point that free time is divided between obligatory tasks and mindless relaxation. Neither of these are bad, but if there’s no time or energy to pursue the things that get you excited, life can end up feeling empty and meaningless. And with good reason: if you don’t make time to do what you love, you are missing the very essence of what life is about.
So by whatever name you call it, “personal growth” is the natural, unavoidable human way. All the efforts to define such growth are well-meaning, however incomplete or downright hokey many of them are. And all are opportunities to move further up the path toward wholeness, to awaken to truer, deeper, higher levels of awareness about who we are and why we’re here and what it all means anyway. People may say that doesn’t interest them, but it does; they just call it something else. Because this journey is the very essence of joy, or, as Joseph Campbell put it, following your bliss.
I suppose for the sake of clarity, I’ll continue to call this journey “personal growth.” But I prefer to think of it as a well-rounded human adventure, as an inevitable migration toward Wholeness. And thus the question isn’t if or why it matters.
The question is, how do I make the best job of this I can?