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A Sacred Place

Take a moment to reflect on the long journey that’s brought you here. So many twists and turns, so many ups and downs. It’s not been easy, and yet somehow you’ve managed to arrive right where you are. Your peculiar quirks and hangups, along with many endearing qualities and positive strengths, testify to an undeniable resilience through hardship, suffering, and loss. No one else in the history of humanity has traveled your exact path, and yet here you are, along with nearly 8 billion other unique individuals – just like you.

You stand out from the rest not only by virtue of the timeline of events that have shaped you into the person you are today, but also by your nature as a self-conscious individual, as one in whom the sentient powers of consciousness have turned inward to become aware of being aware – and of being seen by others.

What we have described so far can be called the formation of your identity, as at once a product or outcome of the past, and an expression or differentiation of self-conscious awareness out of the grounding mystery of being. I don’t mean that to sound overly metaphysical, as if the pre-differentiated ground is (mis)taken as something else, other than you. That deeper mystery of physical life and sentient mind is what has become conscious of itself as you. You stand out from it but are not really separate from it.

I’m going to use the terms “character” and “existence” to name these correlated dimensions that have conspired in the formation of who you are. Character traces the path of life events and your response to those events, as they have been steadily shaping your habits of attitude, belief, judgment, and motivation. With time and experience, the habit of who you are (i.e., your character) has grown more persistent and predictable – just ask those who have known you for a while.

What we commonly call a “strong character” can refer to a habit of identity that is either inflexible in its convictions or creatively resilient, depending on whether your learned response to life has been encoded on the imperative of CONTROL or on that of GROWTH.

Existence is being used in its exact Greek meaning, referring to the act or process of standing out (existere) as an individual, both from a state of pure potentiality and from the general mass of anonymous others. The philosophy of Existentialism has a very diverse world-wide and historical representation, but its central tenet is the human individual as a unique center of experience, standing out in full exposure to the conditions of ambiguity, finitude, and extinction.

In view of such exposure, the existentialists generally forsake all departure narratives (future utopias, heavenly afterlife, or reincarnation) designed to pacify our death anxiety, and instead grapple with how the individual can live an authentic, responsible, creative, and liberated life – in the time they have left to live.

Existentialism is similar to religion in the way it refuses to merely meditate on theoretical abstractions, but rather seeks to resolve or overcome what it regards as forces presently enthralling the human spirit. And while the myths of religion depict this condition in florid metaphors of primordial, supernatural, heroic, and apocalyptic events, Existentialism (and post-theistic religion generally) interprets it psychodynamically, as complications of ego formation.

Put simply, the process of your standing out in self-conscious identity has had to negotiate or contend with certain habits developed around your need to feel safe, loved, capable, and worthy. Because the satisfaction of these subjective needs was occasionally (or often) challenged by less-than-provident circumstances, you had to compensate your feeling unsafe by taking control, your need for love with attachment, your impotency with coercive aggression, and your sense of unworthiness by trying to please others and amount to something in their eyes.

If this profile resembles you to any degree, it’s only because it is archetypal and reflects the early emotional landscape of every human being who has ever lived.

The compensatory strategies just outlined conspire energetically to close your identity down to where you can manage the insecurity and still get by. On the negative side, they also hold you down (and back) from fulfillment. I’m using this word not in the popular and superficial sense of a happy self-satisfaction, but rather in reference to the process of awakening, cultivating, expressing, and fully realizing the deepest potential of your human nature.

A self-conscious personal identity which might otherwise actualize this deep potential in creative and responsible ways, instead holds it hostage inside a cage of neurotic and self-defensive fear.

When you are properly centered in yourself and free to be yourself, you can choose to go beyond (or transcend) yourself in the higher experiences of communion. The truth is that all things exist together as one, as manifestations of and participants in the same reality. This Shining Truth is invisible to – or rather we should say it is obscured by – the insecure ego whose makeshift walls of security close out the light.

Right now, you can choose to step outside and join the One Song and Turning Dance (uni-verse) of it all.

Depending on how small you have made yourself, your spiritual prison break could release a thermonuclear radiance of inner peace, unconditional love, and boundless joy. As you plug into the Source and get carried away, nothing about your life prior to now will be the same. Your anxieties will vanish. Your frustrations will dissolve. Your resentments will fade, as your guilt falls away.

Take a moment to reflect on the long journey that’s brought you here. No one else in the history of humanity has traveled your exact path, and yet here you are. 

This is indeed a sacred place.

 

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Becoming Homo Sapiens

When modern science organized the taxonomy of living things on Earth, it placed our own species in position with an almost religious confidence, as the “wise one” (Latin homo sapiens) among all the creatures. At the time there seemed good reason for such high regard, as we clearly possessed traits and abilities that put us above the rest. It remains an open question, however, whether self-selecting as “wise” was more of an aspirational reach than evidence-based assessment.

Wisdom is not a new interest of ours by any stretch. It can be argued that homo sapiens began its unique advance in evolution as we applied our speculative (outward-looking) and contemplative (inward-looking) intelligence to the mysteries of existence. Since prehistoric times humans have had a keen interest in understanding our place in the wonder of it all.

The so-called wisdom traditions of our separate world cultures are so many tributaries of one ancient stream, bubbling up from the same wellspring – not so much “back there” as “in here,” deep in our individual psyche.

At times along the way, this living stream of spiritual wisdom has gotten blocked by other forces which seem more pressing and urgent. It’s always tempting to temporarily suspend our consideration of interests farther out and later on, of anything that is not inside the immediate circle of “me and mine,” in order that we can address and hopefully resolve the urgency.

We possess a deep knowing, for instance, that All is OneEverything is Connected, and We are All in this Together – three wisdom principles that are not mere logical conclusions, but rather intuitive insights drawn from our direct experience of reality. We know these truths, and yet we frequently choose to ignore them in the choices we make.

Such willful disregard is what Alan Watts called ignórance, referring not to something we don’t know but to our habit of disregarding what we know so we can do what we want.

My diagram places wisdom (sapiens) in what Abraham Maslow called the “farther reaches of human nature” – as the future fulfillment of our deepest potential as a species. It stands at the higher pole of a continuum opposite to instinct, which we have in common with all the other animals. Between the two poles and serving as a kind of phase transition from instinct to wisdom is belief.

Each of these is a kind of behavior program, a distinct set of codes that motivates humans to behave and actively engage with our environment.

In Darwinian terms we can further say that our behavior will either fit us adaptively to our environment or else put us (and our environment) at risk of damage and possible extinction.

For its part, instinct is unthinking and compulsive, driven by codes deep-set in our animal nature. At the other end, wisdom is exquisitely thoughtful and visionary, lifting consciousness to transpersonal ideals, larger horizons, and longer aims.

As the transitional stage between instinct and wisdom, beliefs and belief systems have dominated the human experience for thousands of years.

Homo credulitas is probably a more fitting nomenclature, since this long historical epoch of our evolutionary rise into tribes, cities, nation-states, civilizations, and the contemporary pan-global culture is made possible by a unique ability of our mind to construct around us an envelope of meaning called a world.

A world is a more or less personal construction of language that helps us feel secure, serves as context for our identity, orients us in reality, and clarifies a meaning for life.

These four functions of our world – security, identity, orientation, and meaning – connect neatly at the corners to form a box containing everything that matters to us. We live for what’s inside the box, we obsess over what’s inside the box, and if it comes down to it, we will kill defending what’s inside the box. The American box is different in big ways from the Iranian box, and inside each of these are many more boxes – religious traditions, political parties, social classes – which further contain millions more individual worlds, each unique in lesser but still exceptional ways.

Smaller boxes contained in bigger boxes, contained in still bigger boxes, until we come to the biggest box of all where all of us are insisting to the rest of us that our world is the real world, the way things really are.

And of course, we have to believe this, since it is believing which makes it so, recalling that all of these boxes, from the small-scale individual to the large-scale global, are made of beliefs, are quite literally make-believe.

That such a claim sounds ludicrous and is itself unbelievable actually substantiates its validity, insofar as our mind cannot believe “outside the box.” We can indeed think outside our box, but it takes both practice and courage since breaking past the outer boundary of belief also requires that we move beyond the security, identity, orientation and meaning of life inside the box. If all these things are constructions of belief, then reality – not the “real world” but the really real, existence as such – is beyond belief, indescribably perfect in itself, transcendent even of meaning and therefore perfectly meaningless.

If you can’t believe this, then, in the words of Jesus, you are not far from the kingdom of God. Maybe very close, but not quite.

Recalling those wisdom principles from earlier – All is One, Everything is Connected, and We are All in this Together – we get a sense of how their truth stands beyond belief. It doesn’t matter which boxes you happen to occupy (or that hold you captive), whether you are rich or poor, white, black, brown, or green. They are not articles of belief, much in the same way that gravity is independent of whether or what you may believe about it. They don’t need validation from any source other than your own direct experience.

If you let yourself, these timeless insights into reality will resonate with your own true nature and lift your consciousness far above the ego concerns of “me and mine.”

Now ask yourself, How shall I live in light of these self-evident truths? If you’re not going to ignore them and do what you want, then what difference will they make? How will the full acceptance of their truth inspire you to leave your box and live a truly liberated life?

Welcome, “wise one.” Your higher adventure is now ready to begin.

 

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Are You (Truly) Happy?

We’re supposed to be pursuing happiness in this liberal democracy of ours, or at least have the right to pursue it. We don’t have to, if we’d rather not. We also have the right to be unhappy. The choice is finally ours.

I think our problem is not that we don’t want to be happy, but that we’re confused over what happiness really is. What does it mean to “be happy”?

We’ve been duped by the advertising industry into equating happiness with pleasure – the buzz, the rush, the kick, the tingle. Pleasure stimulates a reward pathway in our brain that can never get enough, which means if an ad company can link their product with our craving for the buzz, rush, kick, or tingle, we’re going to buy – and keep paying until we’re either addicted or depressed, and maybe both. What could be called “consumer exhaustion” is the apocalypse for advertisers and Big Business, and they work hard to keep us in the game.

With a little reflection, however, it’s not hard discern the difference between pleasure and happiness. Happiness isn’t merely enduring pleasure or a steady, life-long dopamine rush. It doesn’t always come with the buzz, kick, or tingle – and quite often it’s absent these altogether.

Neuroscience has revealed that happiness flows along a different pathway than pleasure, depending more on serotonin than dopamine. Big Pharma and drug doctors have managed to turn this discovery into huge profits as well, hooking millions on the lure that more serotonin in their brains will magically make them happier. It doesn’t work that way. While pleasure is a product of our body and brain’s biochemistry, with what’s going on between nerve cells, happiness has more to do with our engagement with reality as persons.

The “synapse” of greater interest here is what presently separates us from three things: the grounding mystery deep within ourselves, the vibrant world all around us, and the evolutionary ideal of our higher human nature.

I’m going to name these dimensions of happiness contentment, enjoyment, and fulfillment. Each dimension might be considered a “type” of happiness, but I’d rather keep them together as a dynamic unit – as the three facets or faces of true happiness. We can focus on one or another of these facets, but losing sight of their unity could lead us into obsession and inevitable disappointment. Let’s spend some time on each dimension of happiness, and then bring them all together for the full picture.

Contentment

Contentment is the feeling that we have all we really need and all is well. While it may seem synonymous with satisfaction, contentment isn’t just about having our needs satisfied. It goes deeper than that. I connect it with our “grounding mystery,” referring to that deeper reality supporting our self-conscious experience from within by a physical, living, and sentient animal nature.

Our “first nature” is where the journey of life begins. In the best of all possible worlds and a perfect family, our body was able to settle into reality and relax into being. An inner clearing of peace and calm opened up inside us, allowing awareness to very naturally orient outward to the world around us. Our inner life became a place of solitude and quiet reflection, a deep center of strength and resolve, as well as a refuge of solace and surrender.

When we can simply be in this moment, without wanting for anything but resting entirely in the support of our grounding mystery, we are profoundly happy – even in the absence of emotions and the running script of our chattering thoughts.

This is nirvana, the placid and undisturbed (literally “no wind”) condition of a still pond. This is happiness as contentment.

Enjoyment

Hearing the words side-by-side – contentment and enjoyment – confirms their distinct connotations. If contentment is inner peace, enjoyment is more about our relationship to the world around us. When we are content, we want for nothing. When we are enjoying something, we tend to want more – not crave it or desperately need it like an addiction, but to stay with it because we find it amusing, intriguing, interesting, or inspiring.

Enjoyment probably comes closest to pleasure and is typically where our confusion starts. Relating to what’s around us involves our senses and sensations – how this, that, and all of it makes us feel. And aren’t our feelings encoded upon the primary dichotomy of pain and pleasure? It’s an easy mistake. And it’s just where the advertisers find their opportunity.

The difference becomes more clear when we acknowledge how many times our greatest enjoyments in life ride in the balance of pain and pleasure, of sacrifice and bliss.

Our true enjoyment is not merely in how something “makes us feel,” but in what it means to us, how precious, serendipitous, and grace-given it is.

I won’t go very deep into it here, but anyone could guess what consequences for enjoyment are brought into the picture when we lack contentment. The emptiness within is not cultivated as an inner clearing for surrender and repose, but is instead a void that must be filled. When we look to the world around us for things to devour – food and drink, possessions and relationships, titles and achievements, even religion and its god – whatever joy we may find in gulping them down will be short-lived. It will also be followed by resentment, which is the very antithesis of enjoyment in its true sense.

Some Christians speak of “a god-shaped hole” at our center, which turns god into a commodity that churches can peddle to consumer-believers. But again, we will never get enough of a god we have to swallow.

Fulfillment

The third facet and dimension of genuine happiness is named fulfillment. As with the other terms, this one has gotten lost in our contemporary pursuit of the buzz, the rush, the kick, and the tingle. In popular culture, “fulfillment” is the ultimate feel-good. If something isn’t fulfilling, we are excused for putting it aside and looking elsewhere for “the real thing” – what the ads promise in exchange for our money.

As I’m using it, however, fulfillment is associated with capacity, completion, and realizing our true potential as human beings. In this sense, fulfillment is always “above and ahead” of us, orienting us to what we are still in the process of becoming. We get tastes of it when we dig deeper into ourselves, step outside our comfort zone, and leap for the ring just out of reach.

The history of our species is the long story of latent talents, dormant powers, and “godly” virtues coming awake, driving our further progress in the direction of a more humane and self-actualized human being.

Ultimately – and fulfillment is about what is ultimate or “highest” – this facet of happiness doesn’t let us just settle for mediocrity and the half-assed life. Many of us do live this way, of course, but the fact that we possess an inner drive and aim (what Aristotle called “entelechy”) which seeks our self-actualization helps explain why we are always living just short of being truly happy.

It’s likely our existential insecurity (i.e., our lack of contentment) that motivates us to grab on and grip down on life rather than whole-heartedly enjoy it, which attachment then holds us back from the fulfilling and liberated life that could be ours.


So here we are, on this “Happy Thanksgiving” day. If we are gathering with family and friends at a table, perhaps we can take a few moments to contemplate whether we are truly happy. We can indeed be thankful if we are, since genuine happiness is not a solo project but a conspiracy involving countless others and some good luck besides.

And if we’re not so happy right now, then we have an idea about where to begin.

 
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Posted by on November 28, 2019 in The Creative Life

 

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Coming to Terms

To exist is to “stand out” (Latin existere) as an individual ego or “I,” centered in yourself and tracking on your own timeline. Of course, this timeline is not interminable, meaning that it will not continue forever. One day you will die and pass into extinction. Nothing in time is permanent; nothing is everlasting.

Now, I hear you thinking: What do you mean, nothing is everlasting? What about god? What about my soul? What about … me?!

Self-conscious human beings have suffered psychological torment for many thousands of years by the awareness of mortality, that “I” will not be around indefinitely. Most of us have lost loved ones and cherished pets along the way, and it shouldn’t come as a shock to realize that your time is also running out.

As a kind of therapeutic response to this existential realization, our species has invented many cultural variations of what we can call a “departure narrative” – stories about leave-taking, about getting out of this mortal condition, and securing your continued existence on the other side of death.

This is probably not where “god stories” got their start, since the idea of a personified intention behind the arrangement and events of our lives is historically much older than a belief in our own immortality.

In earliest religion, known as animism, humans related to their natural environment in a kind of ritual dialogue whereby nature was acknowledged and petitioned for its provident support of what they needed to live and prosper. These rituals coordinated human concerns with the seasons, cycles, and natural forces they relied on.

Even the gods at this stage were not immortal. They were not everlasting beings regarded as separate from the temporal realm of life, death, and rebirth. The purpose of religion was not departure but participation in the Great Round. Gods served the essential function of personifying the intention humans perceived (and imagined) behind the natural events impinging on their existence.

Eventually these invisible agencies were conceived as separate from the phenomena and realms they supervised.

Heaven, not just the starry firmament above Earth but the place where these superintendents resided, where they waited around and occasionally descended to take in the worship and earnest prayers of their devotees down below, was given a place in the emerging imaginarium of a new type (and stage) of religion, known as theism.

If these invisible (and now independent) personalities exist apart from the physical fields they oversee and control, then why not us? Actually it was more likely that the further development of ego formation in humans prompted this new idea of the gods as existing separate from their “body of work” (i.e., the realm of material existence).

Maybe “I” am also separate from this body. Perhaps “I” am not subject to mortality after all. When the body dies, “I” will go on to live elsewhere …

Thus was the departure narrative invented, to comfort you by dismissing death as not really happening to (“the real”) you – to this separate, independent, and immortal “I.” Since then, religions have been redirecting the focus of devotees away from time and towards eternity, away from physical reality and towards metaphysical ideals, away from this life to an imagined life-to-come.

It was all supposedly for the therapeutic benefit of dis-identifying yourself with what is impermanent and passing away. Very soon, however, it became a way of enforcing morality upon insiders as well. If you behave yourself, follow the rules, and obey those in authority, it will go well for you on the “other side.” If you don’t – well, there’s something else in store, and it’s not pleasant.

And to think how much of this was originally inspired out of human anxiety over the prospect of extinction. An independent and detachable personality that will survive death and be with god in a heaven far above and away from here – all designed to save you from the body, time, and a final extinction.

Religion’s departure narrative may bring some consolation and reassurance, but it does so by stripping away the profound (even sacred) value of your life in time and distracting you from the present mystery of being alive.

So far, we have been meditating on the axis of Time, and on your life in time. As a reminder, one day you will die and pass into extinction. But as you contemplate this fact, rather than resolving the anxiety that naturally arises by reaching for some departure narrative, there is an invitation here for you to shift awareness to a second axis, that of Being.

An experience far more exquisite and transformative than your departure for heaven is available right here and now, in this passing moment of your life. This experience is “post-ego,” meaning that it is possible only by virtue of the fact that you have already formed a separate and self-conscious “I,” and are at least capable now of dropping beneath or leaping beyond its hard-won and well-defended identity.

While the departure narrative promises a way out of Now and away from Here, this “fulfillment narrative” invites you into the fullness of life here-and-now.

Begin by taking a few slow, deep breaths: let your body relax into being. There’s nothing here that needs to be clung to or pushed away. All of the identity contracts that identify you with this tribe or that party; this rank or that role; this, that, or another label of distinction defining who you are and where you belong – drop it all, at least for now.

Imagine all of those things as tie-lines anchoring you to your place in society, and now you are unhooking from them one at a time.

As you do this, it will gradually become easier to quietly drop into your body. Here, deeper below all those crisscrossing tie-lines at the surface of who you are, your awareness opens to the feeling of being alive. Down through the nervous system and beneath the biorhythms of breathing, thrumming, pulsing, and resting, you at last come to a place that is no place, a “where” that is nowhere – the Nowhere, or here-and-now as we like to call it.

Each deeper layer in the architecture of your inner life requires a letting-go of what is above.

Each successive intentional release further empties your consciousness of content – first beliefs and the “I” who believes; then thoughts and the emotions attached to thoughts – until nothing is left to think about or even to name. I call this descending-inward path to an ineffable Emptiness the “kenotic” path, from the Greek word (kenosis) for “an emptying.”

The inward descent of Being and the letting-go or self-emptying it entails is also a highly effective practice in preparing you for a second path, of outward ascent into the greater reality that includes so many others and much else besides you. I call this ascending path “ecstatic,” also from the Greek, meaning “to stand out.”

But whereas “to exist” means to stand out as an individual ego, the ecstatic path is about stepping out or going beyond your individual ego in transpersonal communion with others – and ultimately with Everything, with the All-that-is-One.

In this same timeless moment, therefore, a profound and ineffable Emptiness invites you within and beneath who you think you are, as an expansive and manifold Communion invites you out and beyond yourself. Your awakening to this present mystery is at once the fullness of time and the fulfillment of your human nature.

There’s no need to leave.

 

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A Mandala of the Spiritual Life

When you were still in the womb and for some time after you were born, you were entirely dependent on the provident support of your taller powers for the protection, nourishment, warmth, and loving attention you needed to thrive. Being helpless and defenseless, and having no sense of yourself as an “I” in relation to a reality that was “not me,” the effect of your earliest experience was to prompt your nervous system to spontaneously adapt itself to the conditions around you.

This baseline nervous state of your brain and body established your place in the order of things, registering the degree in which those early conditions evoked from you a response of trust or mistrust. A trusting nervous system is calm, open, and engaged with reality, while an untrusting one is anxious, closed, and disengaged. It’s important to realize that at this point you were not really “thinking about” anything or observing discrete “things” outside of “me.” You had no language to make such distinctions, nor a centered ego to provide perspective for rendering judgments.

In the ensuing years of early childhood, with the acquisition of language and thought, and managed increasingly by an emerging center of personal identity (ego), your web of family relationships likely perpetuated and confirmed that primordial attitude of trust or mistrust. In a truly provident environment your taller powers were securely centered in themselves, as they lovingly connected with you. They used their power to shape and influence you in positive ways, but rarely to manipulate or oppress you.

Their love supported and enabled you to get established in your own center of identity without feeling that you had to please, placate, flatter, or impress them in order to win their approval.

Relationships that feature this dynamic balance of power (integrity/autonomy/influence) and love (altruism/intimacy/compassion) possess a strong bond of trust. Without it, no relationship can be healthy or last for long. Your capacity to trust and to be a trustworthy partner is one of the most precious legacies of your infancy and early childhood. Even today as an adult, when other people try to attach themselves to you for the security they need, or try to manipulate you into serving their neurotic cravings for control and self-importance, this capacity to trust keeps you centered, or able to quickly recover when you do get pulled off your center.

My diagram offers what I’m calling a “mandala of the spiritual life,” and in the background is a compass to remind us that your human spirit is an intelligence that seeks wholeness, fulfillment, community, and wellbeing. Regardless of what your early life was like, this spiritual intelligence continues its quest for what is authentic and wholesome. And because no family is perfect and every parent has an “inner child” that is somewhat insecure as a consequence of their early experience, the collective of human cultures from the dawn of history have preserved and handed on the spiritual wisdom we all need.

We ignore this collective wisdom to our peril. Without it, the insecure “inner children” of parents cannot allow their actual children to become grounded and centered in themselves, but instead they manipulate them into serving their own neurotic insecurity. These children, effectively attachments of their parents, never learn to trust, and then proceed to pass this insecurity (and mistrust) into their children – and on it goes.

If the loss of one’s center (literally “missing the mark” in archery) is the meaning of our word “sin,” then perhaps this deep inheritance of insecurity and mistrust through the generations stems back to the “original sin” of those first self-conscious and insecure primates who started the process so many millenniums ago.

The balance of power and love as trust in healthy relationships is among those wisdom principles we can find. As partners stay centered in themselves and use their personal influence (power) to support each other and deepen their relationship (love), the bond of trust grows ever stronger. They are able to be present to one another, to be open, vulnerable, and honest with each other. This is one essential dimension of the spiritual life: living in relationship with others, moving deeper into genuine community.

A second dimension is represented in my mandala as a vertical axis rooted in the ground of inner peace. Your learned capacity for trusting others opened up a place deep within yourself where you can relax into being. A calm nervous system allows you to sink below all the agitations and ambitions of your personal life, into the cradling rhythm of your breath.

It’s likely this creative support of your breathing body is what inspired one of the most widely attested metaphors of the spiritual life (spiritus, ruach, pneuma, prana = breath). Its rhythm of taking in and letting go reveals the inner secret of life itself.

Enjoying inner peace, you can simply let things be; or you can use your creative freedom to bring about necessary change. The spiritual life is neither passive nor active, but engages reality with the understanding that “all is one” and “we’re all in this together.” Such a spiritual understanding allows you to be intentional rather than reactive, to live on purpose and by a higher purpose – higher (and larger) than your personal concerns (ego) and beyond the limited sphere of human interests alone.

With our consideration of inner peace, creative freedom, and higher purpose, we have arrived at the apex of the spiritual life. The mandala might lead you to conclude that coming into your higher purpose breaks past the plane of relationships and its dynamic balance of power and love. Perhaps a “fully self-actualized” human being is someone who possesses supernormal abilities of clairvoyance, teleportation, miraculous powers, and the like.

But in fact, the fulfillment of your spiritual life lies in a near-devotional commitment to love, and to forgive without conditions; to encourage and support others on their life journey; and to be the provident reality they can fully trust.

 

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Your Psychic Reading

Please, have a seat.

I am about to reveal what’s going on in your life – not just around you, but to you and within you. Many things will fall into place and the path ahead will be made clear. When I’m finished and you realize that my reading was on the money, you can send me what you owe. Otherwise, on the chance that I had it completely wrong, just keep your money and don’t bother coming back.


Let’s begin with your age. How old are you? In my “magic window” (see diagram) you will find three numbers comprising four age ranges: birth to age 10, 11 to 25 years old, 26 to 60 years, and any age 61 and above. Don’t get confused over how things are displayed in the window. For now, simply identify yourself as a Child, Youth, Adult, or Elder using the age ranges just provided.

Now I will start my reading, beginning with the earliest and moving through all four life frames in turn. As you might guess, each life frame offers a distinct lens on reality, on the world in which you live, the concerns that focus your experience, and on your unique sense of self.

If you are already some distance into your life story, feel free to compare my descriptions of earlier frames with what you remember, just as you might use later frames to anticipate what is still to come.

CHILD (birth to 10 years old)

This life frame corresponds to the Age of Faith, when basic trust in the provident support of reality is your primary concern. When this support is present, your experience is one of security – that what you need to feel safe and loved is provided to you by taller powers who care for you.

A sense of existential security will underlie – or undermine, if not sufficiently established – every challenge and opportunity of your journey ahead.

Upon this foundational impression of reality in your nervous system, your taller powers have also been busy at work shaping the attitudes, beliefs, roles and behaviors that together carry your identity in the family system. If your early years were characterized by warm regard and positive support, that foundation of security is allowing for healthy flexibility in the formation of your identity.

As a result, you are generally secure in who you are and don’t stress out when the situation needs you to adapt. Another benefit is that, as situations and relationships change, that same security in who you are enables you to hold your integrity – or as we say, to remain true to yourself.

If, on the other hand, your early reality wasn’t so provident, existential insecurity predisposed you to be less confident in who you are. In your effort to please, placate, flatter, or impress your taller powers for the love and support you still need, you have learned how to “alter your ego” to match their attitudes and expectations. Today you continue to struggle for integrity in your relationships, all too ready to surrender who you are to what others want and expect from you.

YOUTH (11 to 25 years old)

If this is your present phase of life, then you are in the Age of Passion. You have strong feelings about things that matter to you. In this life frame, working out your identity as it connects you to peer groups, vocational preparation, and romantic partners is foremost on your mind.

You share this concern over identity with your younger self (Child), but now it’s more about agency and influence than safety and belonging.

Added to this question of identity is thus one of purpose: What’s expected of you? What is required for you to pass through the various qualifying rounds on your way to securing a position (status, title, occupation) in the world? In other words, purpose is mostly about external objectives: things to accomplish, goals to achieve, social expectations to satisfy, benchmarks of success to reach.

If you carry some insecurity in your nervous system from early on, you probably try especially hard to live up to the expectations of others, or at least not to disappoint them. And because the adult world you’re moving into is one built around stereotyped roles, perfectionism may be your preferred strategy for winning the recognition you feel you deserve – or is it a craving?

If this is true of you, then there is also something in you that avoids too much spotlight and even pulls back on your own success, since the risk of being exposed as you really are is unbearable. Youth is a time of heightened self-consciousness, which doesn’t necessarily mean a healthy self-awareness but can frequently spiral into varying degrees of self-obsession. Whether you are seeking attention or trying to evade scrutiny, you may be stuck in this spiral – but there is a way out!

ADULT (26 to 60 years old)

Adulthood is the Age of Reason, and if this is your current life frame, it’s important to you that things make logical sense and fit together in a rational worldview. You have enjoyed some success in your pursuits of life partners, a career path, and social prestige. You are learning how much of adult life is really a ‘daily grind’, and have even wondered at times whether it ultimately matters.

If you are somewhere around 40 years old, this question of relevance has become especially haunting. Just fitting into the schemes of others isn’t as exciting as it once was, and you’re even starting to feel yourself disengage in parts of your life where you have less freedom. The external objectives that had gotten you up early and kept you up late now can barely hold your interest.

The so-called midlife transition (or “crisis”) marks this psychological shift where purpose becomes less about duties, assignments, and shared missions than about personal intention – not living for a purpose but rather living “on purpose” or “with purpose.” You have also started to realize that perhaps your most important intention is to create a life of meaning.

If you deny this realization and simply redouble your efforts at conforming to the world around you, you are at risk of losing your soul – so be careful!

Whether it comes early or later in the Age of Reason, you will also be confronted with the fact of mortality, as the funerals of close friends, parents, and other family members remind you. And once again, if you are carrying some insecurity inside yourself, this will be a time of significant temptations, where it’s easier to throw yourself into a job, bounce across relationships, get lost in distractions, or fall into addictions of one kind or another.

ELDER (61 years old and older)

Having lived this long means that you have a lot of experience behind you, regardless of how much time may remain. The Age of Wisdom is your opportunity to integrate that vast library of personal experiences and lessons learned along the way into a more grounded way of life. Despite the losses, disappointments, and numerous failures, and however short of the youthful ideal your actual life has turned out to be, you are beginning to understand that it really is about the journey and not the destination.

Picking up those lessons and incorporating them into the running script of your life story is what wisdom is all about.

The “meaning of life,” which you had come to appreciate in your adult years as your creative purpose and responsibility, is now opening out to include not just your individual life but all of life, not just your existence but being itself. You are coming to know “All is One” as an experiential reality and not only a conceptual idea.

Even though from a societal perspective the later years of many are characterized by retirement, withdrawal, and increasing isolation, the deep discovery of this age is that nothing stands utterly alone. The universe is one vast network of coexistence, cooperation, and communion – and you belong to it. Not only that, but each individual is a manifestation of the whole. In this moment, the universe is self-conscious and contemplating this very truth – in you!

Perhaps the most precious realization the Age of Wisdom has to offer is that your own self-actualization as a human being and unique person is what the universal process is intending. With roots anchored in the grounding mystery and branches reaching out to everything else, your individual life is – just now! – pressing outward in the full blossom of your true nature. This is what is meant by fulfillment.

A word of caution from someone who can see into your life: Don’t make the mistake of sacrificing fulfillment on the altar of security. This is not the time to fall asleep inside your daily routine!


There you have my reading of your life so far, and of what’s still to come. Please gather your things and see your way out.

I’ll be looking for your check in the mail.

 

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Your Fact-Value Map

All you need to know is that there are just four kinds of people in the world. There are those who live as close as possible to what their own senses validate as real; we’ll call them Skeptics (from Greek skopeîn, to examine). They have their opposite in the Agnostics who keep reminding themselves how much, really, is unknown. Third are the Pessimists, who tend to focus on finding and solving problems. Fourth and opposite of them are the Optimists, with their lofty aspiration after ideals.

Okay, so there aren’t only four kinds of people in the world – there are lots more than just four. And yet, I will make a case in this post that each of us stands somewhere in the matrix of these four positions.

I call this matrix the fact-value map (or fact-and-value map). One axis of the matrix orients us to facts, and the other to values. As you probably know, the war of “facts” and “values” – or the hard sciences versus the humanities; e.g., engineering versus art – is one of the enduring scuffles that have shaped the Western mind in recent centuries.

But I don’t agree that they are warring opposites – unless we jump to extremes and define one against the other. Facts and values are not opposites in that sense; they are not diametrical, but rather complementary. Both are necessary elements in our construction of meaning.

Each alone is insufficient, like trying to build a house with boards but no nails, or with nails only and no boards.

So let me start again. All you need to know is that YOU stand somewhere between the obvious and the unknown, between problems and ideals. Where exactly you stand will determine what kind of house you build – that is to say, the particular construction style of the world you inhabit. Standing between these poles places you on a continuum: closer to their balancing center, farther on one side or the other, or perhaps out toward either extreme.

You do your best to blend the elements, like a careful alchemist or winemaker. But once in a while, whether precipitated by something going on around you or within, you can flip out of balance and become a dogmatic Skeptic or Agnostic, Pessimist or Optimist. So let’s pretend that, for right now at least, you are somewhere inside the fact-value map and not pegged at the extremes.

Now let my two-dimensional map tip through the third dimension, falling away from you to become a grid you can walk on. Step out and take your position at the intersection of the Fact and Value axes. (As a reminder, the Fact axis stretches between what is obvious to your sense experience and what is unknown – not merely beyond your senses but perhaps unknowable. Crossing through this is the Value axis, with problems to solve on one side and ideals to cherish on the other.)

From where you stand now, you can rotate 360° and look across the four quadrants of the matrix.

Next, plot two points on each axis, reflecting where you see the balance of its elements in your life and worldview at the present time. Less of one will place a point closer to you at the center; more of the other will put a second point farther in the other direction along the same axis. If you started with the Fact axis, do the same with the Value axis.

With four points plotted on the map, two somewhere on either side of center on each axis, your final instruction is to draw an ellipse that intersects all four points on the map. Most likely your ellipse will overlap all quadrants of the fact-value map, but skewed more or less to represent your unique balance among the four elements.

Let’s think of the elliptical boundary as your personal ‘world horizon’, inside of which are found the raw materials – the “boards and nails” – that you use to construct meaning and build your world.

In my illustration, an individual is standing at the intersection of the fact-value map with his world horizon skewed into the quadrant of “unknown problems.” This tells us that he is oriented in his life as an Agnostic Pessimist (or a Pessimistic Agnostic): his mind is open to what he doesn’t know, but he tends to regard it as something requiring his vigilance and preparedness since so much of what is unknown can be danger lurking in the shadow of the obvious.

This person is likely a plan-for-the-worst type who has learned that bracing for unknown problems is his best way of handling them once they present themselves. True enough, he can get overwhelmed at times by imagining troubles that aren’t really there and never materialize. But at least he’s ready for them, and that feels better than the prospect of being unpleasantly surprised and broad-sided.

Inside his world horizon you can see something lying on the ground that looks like a token with the letter ‘A’ imprinted on it. ‘A’ stands for archetype, which refers to a “first form” (Greek arche+typos) or primary image that represents many things – in this case all things, aka what’s going on or the way things really are.

I’m making a case that each of us lives inside a unique world horizon, and that we carry in our nervous system an imprint which, insofar as we entertain its image in our dreams and daytime reflections, is also a mental idea that symbolizes our world and what life is all about.

So, back to you.

As you survey your world horizon on the fact-value map, what token image serves to represent what it all means to you? Whether you happen to be an Agnostic Pessimist/Pessimistic Agnostic, a Pessimistic Skeptic/Skeptical Pessimist, a Skeptical Optimist/Optimistic Skeptic (that’s me, by the way), or an Optimistic Agnostic/Agnostic Optimist – there is something that summarizes the whole shebang for you in a single image, metaphor, or idea.

Maybe life is a beach, or rather a bitch. Perhaps an open door, or a brick wall. A bubbling spring, or a sucking drain. An undeserved blessing, or a deadly curse. What is it for you?

This is a good time to ask, “So what?”

Well, if each of us lives inside a world of our own making, and the world we happen to inhabit is actually making us sick with anxiety, tense with frustration, or stuck in depression, then we should be able to remodel our world into one that supports our happiness, fulfillment, and wellbeing.

Where to start? I suggest choosing a different archetype, tossing it into the quadrant you want to relocate to, and let it begin attracting and forming in you a new mindset. It will take time and consistent practice, but you can do it. Hell, look at what you’ve already done.

Once you can change your mind, a new world will come along shortly.

 
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Posted by on January 16, 2019 in Philosophical Underpinnings

 

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The Gospel According to The Eagles

So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains and we never even know we have the key.

The Eagles, “Already Gone”

I have been developing a theory that explains our human experience as the consilience of four distinct threads of intelligence, in what I name Quadratic Intelligence. While the threads themselves were identified long before I got to the drawing board, the quadratic model is my own innovation.

My preferred way of reading the model is organic, starting from the most primitive thread and proceeding along their evolutionary line of development until the full set is in view. Thus we begin in visceral intelligence (VQ), grow into emotional intelligence (EQ), articulate and expand rational intelligence (RQ; the conventional ‘IQ’), and at last awaken to the higher virtues of spiritual intelligence (SQ).

It’s important to understand that the four threads are not stacked on top of each other, but rather together comprise the braid of quadratic intelligence. There is a hierarchy among them nonetheless, with higher/later threads dependent upon the integrity of deeper/earlier ones. This same evolutionary sequence can be observed more broadly in the “tree” of animal life on earth: rooted in instinct (VQ), branching into feeling (EQ), flowering in thought (RQ), and bearing fruit in wisdom (SQ).

My model provides a useful way of representing the ideal of ‘self-actualization’ across the species and especially in our own.

As illustrated in my diagram, each thread of intelligence has its own focus and aim. Visceral health, emotional happiness, rational meaning, and spiritual well-being name these four ‘driving aims’ in humans, none of which can be neglected or removed without serious consequences to our overall quality of life.

Once again, each emerges out of and weaves strength back into the braid – although it is possible for the braid to get ‘knotted up’ in places, creating complications and dysfunctions throughout the system. My interest in the present post is to elucidate a particular kind of tangle among the threads of quadratic intelligence, in the formation of convictions.

My returning reader is likely acquainted with my working definition of conviction, as a belief that has taken the mind hostage and prevents it from thinking “outside the box.” It’s helpful to picture an otherwise curious, creative, and perfectly capable mind caught like a prisoner in a cage: a convict of its own conviction.

In my diagram I have placed the graphic of a cage at the threshold between our emotional and rational strands of intelligence, in order to represent the composition of conviction. It possesses a rational element, insofar as it is a meaningful proposition about something. It is logical, if not necessarily reasonable. It makes sense, even if it’s not very sensible. Other minds can understand what it means, although it may be completely without basis in reality or actual experience.

The reason we hold convictions – or rather I should say the reason our convictions hold us – really has little or nothing to do with their rational character as meaningful propositions. It’s from deeper down in the structure of intelligence that convictions draw their energy, in that all or nothing, black or white, one and only way commitment we make to them emotionally.

Whereas an otherwise reasonable proposition of opinion or fact remains open for verification  because we are letting rational curiosity move us closer to reality, a conviction closes our mind off from reality in recital and defense of what must be true regardless.

In one way or another, every conviction is a passionate insistence on the conditions of our happiness – that we can’t be happy without this or that in our life, unless it is for us exactly what we need it to be, or not until some future time when our demands have been fully met. Partly out of ignorance and partly by deceit, we will often argue and fight for the truth of our claim without admitting our underlying unhappiness and desperate need to be right.

An all-or-nothing, black-or-white, one-and-only-way manner of thinking (RQ), therefore, is merely a rationalization of our unresolved emotional insecurity (EQ). We need to feel less vulnerable and exposed, so we insist that something or someone, somewhere or upon some future day, will make our insecurity go away for good.

Conviction, in other words, is perhaps the most obvious symptom of our chronic unhappiness.

If this wasn’t tragic enough – since nothing outside us, anywhere, can deliver on our demands and truly make us happy – the tangled knot of strong convictions further prevents the fruiting of our spiritual intelligence (SQ). Not only is energy tied up in forging those cages of belief, but it is siphoned away from the deeper insights and higher aspirations that would support our genuine well-being.

To understand these deeper insights and higher aspirations, we can take the two roots of our word “well-being” and follow each in a different direction. Well derives from the root meaning “whole,” so I’ll name that set our holistic aspirations for wholeness, harmony, unity, and fulfillment (as in “filled full”).

Our holistic aspirations open us to the revelation that All is One, and that the present mystery of reality lies beyond the meanings we construct and drape in front of it.

Being is the present participle of the verb “to be,” so I’ll name this second set our existential insights into presence, release, emptiness, and serenity. Our existential insights invite us into a deeper experience of the grounding mystery which is be-ing itself, and into the profound realization (or disillusionment depending on how difficult it is for us to let go) that our own identity is also but a construct without substance.

As we consider the existential insights and holistic aspirations of spiritual intelligence, an interesting paradox is revealed particularly in that curious juxtaposition of emptiness and fulfillment. From the perspective of ego this paradox appears as a self-canceling opposition or meaningless contradiction, for how can we experience emptiness and fulfillment at the same time?

But of course, this apparent dualism is only a function of ego consciousness itself, separated from reality by the convictions that simultaneously give us refuge and hold us captive.

As the spiritual wisdom traditions have been reminding us, all we need to do is drop the illusion and stop pretending, and this truth alone will set us free.

When our spiritual intelligence (SQ) is awakened we also become healthier (VQ), happier (EQ), and live more meaningful (RQ) lives. The good news is that, while we may struggle and suffer for a long time inside our small cages of conviction, the key to liberation is already in our possession.

 
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Posted by on December 31, 2018 in The Creative Life

 

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A New Hierarchy of Needs

Back when Abraham Maslow formulated his hierarchy of human needs, the science of psychology hadn’t yet clarified what I have come to name our subjective or “feeling-needs.” At that time the concept of need was still equated with a dependency on something external to the individual which is required for healthy development.

As we move up his hierarchy we advance across physiological, safety, relational and self-esteem needs, until we come to the threshold of self-actualization and realizing our highest potential.

My ‘new hierarchy of needs’ includes much of Maslow’s model but rearranges elements according to a stage theory of human development that I’ve been working to clarify in this blog. It also adds what I’m calling our spiritual needs, which isn’t suggesting that we have a need for heaven, immortality, or even god as most religions claim. Our spiritual needs are very real, but not at all metaphysical or supernatural in orientation.

I agree with Maslow that the entire scheme culminates in self-actualization, or what I name ‘fulfillment’ in the sense of realizing our full capacity as human beings.

To appreciate how my rearrangement and new category of needs matters to our self-understanding, as well as to an ethics of engagement with other human beings, let’s take a tour through my diagram. We’ll begin at the base of the hierarchy and work our way upward, taking a little more time on those elements that Maslow didn’t include but which determine to a great extent how high into what he called “the farther reaches of human nature” any of us are capable of going.

Our survival needs are what we require in our animal nature to stay alive: clean air to breathe, pure water to drink, nutritious food to eat, and protective refuge where we can rest in safety. Of course, we are more than a mere body and its organic urgencies, and there are some higher needs such as social connection, and I would even argue spiritual peace, deprived of which a human animal will suffer and prematurely die.

While Maslow’s model proceeds from our physical (physiological and safety) needs into needs of love and belonging, I have inserted between these the category of our subjective needs. I actually prefer to call them our “feeling-needs,” referring specifically to our need to feel safe, loved, capable, and worthy.

To understand their place in the hierarchy of needs, just think about how your survival need for refuge, for example, translates subjectively into the felt sense of being safe (or not). Or consider how your social need for connection translates subjectively into the felt sense of being loved (or not). In each case, that felt sense is a crucial reference in your self-appraisal and of what’s going on.

Subjective needs are not survival needs, but they register the degree in which your material environment provides for your animal life. And neither are subjective needs the same as your social needs, but they register the internal impression of how supportive your social web is to your developing personality.

The subjective needs – your need to feel safe, loved, capable, and worthy – is where your experiences of reality as provident or otherwise are translated into deep impressions regarding your existential security.

In other words, it’s not enough that you are in fact safe, loved, capable, and/or worthy; if you don’t feel safe (etc.), then that unsatisfied need to feel safe will dominate your attention and drive your behavior. Anxiety is our name for the feeling of threat or danger, and if you are taken over by anxiety it doesn’t matter if your actual circumstances happen to be perfectly safe.

You are constantly checking in on this register of subjective needs and how secure you feel.

Calling the feeling-needs subjective rather than internal emphasizes the point that they are “thrown under” the center of personal identity known as ego. A construct of identity is the highest of your social needs, and regarding it as a construct – something that is not a fact of natural formation but instead a cultural fiction composed out of numerous “I am ______” storylines – is a breakthrough discovery of social psychology in the last 100 years.

Think of the social needs as correlated around your emerging identity as a member of your tribe. Outwardly you perform this identity across countless role plays, while inwardly – or better yet, subjectively – you carry a felt sense of how safe, loved, capable, and worthy you are. When your feeling-needs have been adequately met, the construct of personal identity is said to possess “ego strength.”

The virtues of ego strength are that personality is stably grounded in your animal nature (i.e., the body), is emotionally balanced, and is unified under the executive management of self-control.

My returning reader will anticipate what I say next, which is that ego strength in this ideal sense is vanishingly rare. Because we were born to imperfect parents, raised in uniquely dysfunctional families, and had to find our way in a chronically mess-up world, each of us carries some insecurity associated with our need to feel safe, loved, capable, and worthy.

To whatever degree we fall short of the ideal, just about everything in life will be caught up in our schemes to find what we feel we don’t have enough of. We have a compulsion to fill the emptiness within ourselves. And what do you know, there are all kinds of ideologies, agencies, products, and services out there that promise just what we crave.

So we bite, buy, and believe – but nothing can make our insecurity go away.

As you contemplate the Hierarchy of Needs, it should be easy to imagine how the frustration of subjective needs and the various compensations, substitutes, and distractions you employ to feel better (i.e., happier and more secure) end up interfering with your social needs as well.

Instead of healthy connection, you’re caught in attachment and codependency. Instead of belonging, you struggle desperately for acceptance and approval. Instead of enjoying the benefits of membership, you have to fight for what you feel is yours. And all of that together conspires to make you more confused than ever about who you are.

The resulting identity confusion, with its source in your subjective insecurity, presses you urgently into the chase, the quest, and the hope for salvation – for something, someone, somewhere else. 

Deepest down there is no peace, just this inner void and restless craving. Tangled up in the storylines of your confused identity, stuck in the past and striving for a way out, you can’t be fully present to the here and now. Instead of lifted into an awareness of your communion with all things, you feel isolated and lonely.

But the great evolutionary tragedy is that the priceless treasure of your true nature is locked behind a heavy door of fear and neurotic self-interest. Your spiritual wealth is left undiscovered and your unique contribution to the commonwealth of beings cannot be released.

As Jesus says in the Gospel of Thomas:

“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

 

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The Beginning of Wisdom

In the ethical monotheism of late Judaism and early Christianity, Yahweh (originally a minor warrior deity of a small federation of habiru tribes in the region of Sinai who eventually became the creator of heaven and earth) was regarded as the supreme judge over the destiny of human beings. He demanded exclusive worship and absolute obedience from his devotees, in exchange for which he provided them with protection and a prosperous life.

The “fear of the Lord” – not living in abject terror of god but with reverent awareness of his watchful supervision – was thus an acknowledgment of the human being’s accountability as a moral agent before the One whose will is the Way of all things.

This fusion of human moral accountability and the omnipotent will of god would create numerous crises for believers over the centuries. From the Babylonian invasion and exile of 586 BCE, through the calamitous failure of Jesus’ revolution, to the twentieth-century holocaust (or Shoah) in which millions of Jews and other faithful were killed, the contradiction in believing that a benevolent deity is in control as innocent human beings suffer has driven many once-devoted theists to abandon their belief in god.

For as long as theism regarded deities as personified agencies of cosmic and natural forces, human suffering could be chalked up to fate – “That’s just the way it is.” But after the Bible’s ethical monotheism elevated the will of god above everything else, a crisis was just a matter of time.

Try as we might to uphold divine sovereignty by making human beings somehow deserving of their suffering (e.g., an individual’s unconfessed sin, inherited guilt from previous generations, or the total depravity of human nature); or on the other side, by appealing to god’s inscrutable plan, the soul-therapy of pain and loss, or adjusting the mixer board of orthodoxy so that god’s righteousness is bumped above his compassion – all of this compromise to our ethical and rational sensibilities has put belief in god’s existence out of the question for many.

Does this leave us with atheism then? It sounds like we need to drop all this nonsense and move on. Haven’t we disproved god’s existence by now, tolerated the logical and moral contradictions, or at least gone long enough without evidence to support the claim? If theism has ruined its credit in our modern minds, isn’t atheism all that’s left?

A good part of this blog is dedicated to clarifying a different conclusion. Just because many of us are no longer able – more importantly we aren’t willing – to sacrifice intellect for faith doesn’t necessarily mean that theism has to be trashed, or that it’s been fatally exposed as a farce.

It could also mean that theism has done its job.


For a time when we were young (so runs my argument) we depended on higher powers to help us feel secure, supervise our development, and exemplify the character virtues that promote cooperation and goodwill. Every family system is a kind of theism where taller powers provide for underlings in these and other ways, and they in turn try to be obedient and respectful of parental authority.

The fear of the Lord was continually in our awareness of being accountable for our words, choices, and behavior. Doing good came back in praise and reward; doing bad called down blame and punishment. If our taller powers were involved and diligent, we eventually came to understand that ‘the world’ (our household) was an interdependent system where our actions had consequences – not just for us alone but for the system as a whole.

In ancient and traditional societies this world model of a household was projected outward onto a larger – in the case of Judaism’s ethical monotheism, a cosmic – scale, where a patron deity (like Yahweh) was imagined as watching over his children, demanding their obedience, and providing for their needs. Such a model of reality gave assurance that the tribe and its individual members weren’t orphans adrift in an indifferent or hostile universe.

Their god personified a provident intention in the greater cosmos, but s/he also reminded them that human beings are part of something larger and owe their contribution to the whole. No action went unnoticed by god; later, Jesus would insist that not even our thoughts and desires are hidden from “the father who sees in secret.” Humans are one big sibling society under the will of the fatherly Yahweh, and each of us is accountable to him. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.


We realize now as never before that our representations of ultimate reality are metaphorical constructions that not only assist our contemplation of what is beyond name and form but also serve to link the business of daily life to a transcendent center of value and meaning. Yahweh is a mythic character, a literary figure, a theological construct who personified the provident mystery of reality as superintendent over nature and all nations.

While it is the case that Bible stories tell of Yahweh’s great accomplishment “in the beginning,” his intervention on behalf of Hebrew slaves, his guidance and support of refugees through the wilderness, his revelation of laws by which to govern the community, his ventriloquism through the prophets, his incarnation in Jesus, the fertilization of a new community by his spirit, his orchestration of the missionary church, and the preparation currently underway for the apocalyptic final curtain – we commonly overlook the fact that all of this takes place inside the imaginarium of myth.

Because biblical (or more accurately, mythological) literalists are considering these stories from a standpoint outside this imaginarium – which names a mode of consciousness that is shaped and fully immersed in its own narrative constructions of meaning – the veracity of Yahweh’s character for them must be a function of his separate existence, apart from the stories themselves. In other words, these are not mere stories (certainly not myths!) but eye-witness reports of actual supernatural facts and miraculous events.

It was this loss of the mythic imagination which motivated the conviction that would eventually set the stage for theism’s disproof by science.

We could have gone the route of seeing through the myths as metaphorical representations of reality, and as mythopoetic (rather than scientific) constructions of meaning. In that case, theism might have taken the role of orienting human consciousness in reality, providing mystical grounding and moral guidance in the formation of identity, and then assisted the further transformation of consciousness by facilitating its liberation from ego in a transpersonal re-orientation to life within the turning unity of all things. The pernicious divisions of soul and body, self and other, human and nature would have been transcended and healed, lifting us into a conscious experience of community, wholeness, fulfillment, and wellbeing.

But things went in a different direction.


Now, on the other side of our sacred stories (seeing through them rather than seeing by them) and taking up our lives after god (post-theism), we still have an opportunity to embrace that ancient proverb: The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. For us, however, it’s not about living under the watchful, provident, and retributive supervision of a god. We can save the kernel of its wisdom and release the husk of theism that protected it for millenniums.

It’s not that we should live in such a way that pleases god the father and motivates his blessing in return. The personified character of god in the myths was only the ‘husk’ inside of which the precious insight was honored and kept – the insight that we are not getting away with anything.

We are accountable. Our beliefs, values, and actions affect much more than we know, for we belong to a larger living system. What we do locally amplifies in its effects to impact global conditions, which in turn nourish, limit, or undermine our local quality of life.

Not only are we not ‘getting away’ from this situation by some escape route to a perfect world (a utopian future or heavenly paradise), the integral intelligence of systemic feedback that is our planet and its cosmic environment will continue to bring back to us the consequences of our daily choices. And as we can see with the effects of industrial pollution and global warming, these consequences are now crossing a critical threshold.

What we sow in our inner life (soul) comes out as health or illness in our body. What we do to others (as Jesus pointed out, especially our enemies) comes back on our self. The degree or lack of reverence and care that we demonstrate for the household of nature reflects the dignity we affirm our deny in our own human species. All is one, and we’re all in this together.

That is wisdom.

 

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