Life challenges as mirror

This morning my wife discovered that the left side mirror on her car had been smashed by vandals sometime during the night. The same thing happened to our neighbor’s car, both parked on the street.

As I later reflected on my initial response to this, I found it interesting. Sometimes, as we are making progress in our practice, change is not noticeable until an event takes place that tests us. When this happens, it can remind us of the last time a similar event happened and invite comparisons.

The most notable aspect of my internal response was a complete lack of any kind of any kind of negative feelings about the perpetrator/s. It was almost as if my wife had told me that a branch on our tree had snapped and broken the mirror. I did tell her we needed to notify the police, in case this was part of a pattern of activity, but my main thoughts in this were about other potential victims on our street.

Only when I noticed the absence of that thought later, did it begin to make me think about the perpetrator. And, when I ran the image in my mind of some imagined person (perhaps a youth) doing this, the only feeling that emerged was a sense of concern for this person. If it was a youth, I wondered what might be going on in their life.

Of course, it’s possible that a kid can otherwise have a fairly normal life and end up happy and well adjusted, even if they engaged in a number of ill-conceived misadventures in their youth. But this kind of behavior can also be an indication of deeper things gone wrong. That same lack of empathy for others can potentially manifest itself in more serious acts. Or, if the key attribute was a recklessness and disregard for how their actions might affect their own life, this might be an indication of a self destructive attitude. Of course, I cannot know the details of this person’s life, but if either of these possibilities is on base, it could mean this person is in for a life with some rough patches and the inevitable suffering that comes with such lack of wisdom – a suffering they may not even understand the source of.

My feeling in these thoughts was similar to the concern a parent might have for their child if they learned he or she were leading a self destructive life. We can get a replacement mirror, but this person has much more difficult problems.

As mentioned, this doesn’t mean we don’t alert authorities and that we don’t take whatever actions are appropriate. It is only right to support actions that would protect other victims, and to stop the perpetrator. But this can be done without damaging ourselves with unhelpful impulses and reactions. In fact, we can hope that the consequences for a perpetrator help inspire them to improve, and someday be able to enjoy the peace and contentment that comes from being a better person.

It was fortunate that I didn’t need to be reminded of these perspectives – that they seemed to have become my natural responses. There was a time when my responses would have been different, and that indicates there has been some progress in my spiritual practice. I wanted to take the opportunity to talk about this, because it seemed a good way to illustrate the kind of transformation which our spirituality is about. Have you seen signs of progress is your own natural responses as a result of applied practices over time? If so, please feel free to share them!


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Mindful Discourse

“Quack Quack!” (cc) Creep Streeps (Art Freak), Flickr.com.

In the Spiritual Naturalist Society – in all of our articles, correspondence, in-person conversations, online conversations, and local events – we always try to encourage mindful discourse. Therefore, it is worth looking at what we mean by mindful discourse in more detail.

The distinguishing characteristic of mindful discourse, is that we want the values and practices of our spiritual path to manifest themselves in our behavior, including in our interaction with others. It is one thing to talk about compassion, for example, but cultivating it ourselves is our aim. And, importantly, outward larger actions alone don’t do the job. We might contribute a sizable amount to important causes, and may even volunteer our time toward them. This may help others, but ultimately the world is most helped when we transform ourselves. This way, we become the kind of beings that are more likely to continue those outward actions into the future, to be more likely to deeply influence and inspire others, and be the kind of beings that will be more capable of enjoying the flourishing life.

Part of the process of achieving that transformation, affecting our inner motivations, is being mindful of the little moment-to-moment things. This touches intimately on what I have described in our Resources section as Demeanor Practice. Often the discussions in our organization involve topics dear to us. This has the potential to throw us into reactionary states of lower mindfulness at times. Recently I had a wonderful discussion with a friend on a very interesting topic. But I noticed afterward there were some times I was not as mindful as I could have been. So, let’s look at some specific characteristics of unmindful discourse, which may be red flags for us to watch…

Data Dump
One of our tendencies when in less mindful discourse, is to be so anxious to get all of our views out that we go on and on without stop. This gives little time for listeners to ask for clarifications or, more importantly, to even follow and consider what we are saying properly. This happens because we imagine that making the others know our point, or see our full position ‘right now’ is more important than it is. Buddhism is one philosophy that helps us with such ego-driven behaviors. In any case, this impatience and/or urge to dominate is a sign we are not being mindful in our conversation.

Revving on the Start Line
This is when another person is speaking and we are simply waiting for our next opportunity to speak, as though we were a runner on the starting line of a race, waiting for the gun shot. During this time, we are not living in the present because we are not appreciating the value of what the other person is saying. We are also not being very considerate. Both of these facts will hamper our ability to connect with the conversant.

One-Way Traffic
Have you ever had a discussion with someone, and noticed that they never seem to ask what you think or elicit your thoughts? We have all probably done this before. It is often assumed that both sides will throw their lot into the mix, but this isn’t always the case – especially if they don’t feel welcome. We can always learn from others, so it is helpful to ask them what they think. And then, most importantly, really stop and consider it deeply.

Jumping the Gun
This act of impatience and assumption is when we hear the first few bits of what a person is saying, and then assume we know what the rest of their sentence or point will be. Often we may interrupt them, which ramps up the volley of exchanges and lowers mindfulness. But even when we bit our tongue, the internal assumption often turns off our true listening, and puts us into ‘Revving on the Start Line’ mode (see above).

Pigeonholing
This is similar to ‘Jumping the Gun’ but here, we imagine we know the other person’s entire viewpoint, in addition to many other views unconnected to their statements. We do this because we imagine whole packages of positions to be a part of larger general ‘types’ of people. But all too often, people aren’t like the stereotypes we imagine. And, just because they have a view on one position, doesn’t mean we can assume we know their other positions. Stoicism teaches us that judgments we make connect to values and labels and these can often blind us to the realities before us.

Planting Seeds in Infertile Soil
Sometimes our enthusiasm or desires may encourage us to force our views down others’ throats. We end up banging our heads against a wall because the other person is simply not ready or willing to be open to the views we are sharing. It is in this time that teachings such as the Taoist Wu Wei (effortlessness) can be helpful. Here, we move with the flow of things – in this case, we act in conjunction with the current disposition and nature of the conversant. If they aren’t ready or willing to give some things a fair hearing, we are patient and accept that it is not the right place or time, or that more productive approaches may be possible.

As we read the above, let us not consider this list in the light of “all the things other conversants have done to us”. While those times may elicit emotions which cause them to stand out in our memories, we cannot control what others do, and certainly cannot control the past. Instead, let us consider the above in terms of our thoughts and actions. That is what we control, and where our concern should lie if we are to make progress on our path.

These instances may be good reminders for us to check our motivations. Often, when we are not mindful, we end up having discussions for all the wrong reasons. Perhaps our real intention is to show off, or to ‘be right’. Perhaps we are trying to belittle the other person. Perhaps we have an inner need to assert our ego. Instead of ‘winning’ as a debate might encourage, mindful discourse happens for completely different reasons. Instead, the goal is to share ideas and learn from one another. By suspending harsh judgments or assumption or interjecting or comparative-contrasting language for a time, we are more able to listen deeply and consider that which we may have not considered before. We are more able to see through the other person’s eyes and broaden our understanding. In mindful discourse, the ‘winners’ are those who come away with greater understanding than before – not those who have merely convinced others of their previous understanding.

Most of all, if we are wise we will remember that mindful discourse is compassionate discourse. It is important that we try to keep loving-kindness for all beings at the forefront of our consciousness as we discourse. Love for everyone involved in a conversation will keep our attitudes charitable, our tones inviting, and everything conducive to greater understanding and communication. Along the way, we may discover the extra dividend that our own faculties of empathy, patience, tolerance, and love are improved.

If you’d like to experiment with this practice, strangers could be considered the ‘easy level’ because there is a kind of ‘polite shell’ we are typically trained by our culture to have. For more advanced challenges, try this practice with close friends and family – the more emotionally invested you are in the topic, the more challenging this practice will be. If you’re not where you’d like to be with it, don’t be frustrated – compassion, patience, and forgiveness is something to show ourselves too. Just keep trying and focus on the present. In time you’ll get better at it!


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Spiritual Naturalist Drumming

Courtesy, Lisa Marie Bytheway.

Drumming is an ancient art that has played a ritualistic and spiritual role in different cultures all over the world. Drumming practitioners today may be most familiar with West African and Native American traditions, but there are many others – for example, Taiko drumming techniques from Japan. Why does drumming have a spiritual role in the lives of so many diverse cultures, and what role might it have for naturalists?

In the West at least, new spiritual movements have come to incorporate drumming methods and understandings from a variety of ‘mix-and-match’ influences. These customized ritual cocktails may vary in their accuracy and allegiance to historically accurate understandings; sometimes intentionally so. In many of these cases, members of the original cultures from which these practices sprang may find offense. So, as we proceed, we should do so with respect for original cultures and be careful that we don’t misrepresent them. Even with this approach, however, it should be noted that no amount of respect will prevent offense to some cultures that resent any appropriation of their customs. This is a more general concern with any perennial path such as ours, but we proceed as respectfully as possible while learning from others what we can. The format of drumming rituals varies, but we will primarily look at drumming circles, which have been popularly forming at events and in groups for many years.

Another concern for we, as naturalists, is that one will find a variety of interpretations as to the nature of spiritual drumming in literal terms. That is, there are many beliefs about what is happening with ‘energy’, healing, bodily centers, and so on. We should not get too hung up on these particulars, as there will always be those with a variety of beliefs. Agreement on these matters is not essential and we should approach them with tolerance while staying true to our own path, which includes a humble approach to knowledge and claims; without the need to force that discipline on others. Mainly, just as we do when reading ancient philosophy, we must be capable of seeing past differences to connect with underlying themes and wisdom, rather than being reactionary to anything we may not agree with and miss an entire area of human activity and its potential benefits. So, some charity is advisable. This would be true even for non-naturalists, each of whom will have their own differences of belief. The famous physicist Richard Feynman is one example of a naturalist who saw great benefits in drumming. So, let us consider these benefits.

Individual

Native American drumming.
(cc) terren in Virginia, Flickr.com.

At the simplest level, drumming is fun. This alone can justify it for anyone, naturalist or not. And, there is additionally an argument to be made for simple fun activity as a healthy part of a spiritual life. But considering some further aspects of drumming beyond simple fun can be intriguing and helpful.

The National Aboriginal Health Organization (NAHO) conducted a series of interviews and collected practitioner journal reports to get a sense of what Aboriginal women practitioners experienced in hand drumming rituals. The general consensus was positive, as one might expect. Some reported their heart rates affected by the rhythm, helping them deal with stress, relaxing and releasing tension. Some even reported finding the activity helpful in dealing with addictions. They generally reported that it helped them maintain a positive outlook on life.

Of course, more research can only help illuminate these effects, but Spiritual Naturalists are encouraged to do their own first-person research, seeing for themselves the effects of participation. Practice, as we have stated, is about more than academic third-person study.

Community

African drumming.
(cc) ehpien, Flickr.com.

Obviously, the communal nature of drum circles tends to help participants learn to be in synch with one another in their drumming. This synchronicity can lead to a greater sense of cooperation. Indeed, many armies from all over the world have, prior to modern communications, used drumming to coordinate soldiers on the battlefield and in training. Not only does the rhythm indicate a pace and type of action, but the emotional nature of hearing the drums helped to coordinate their emotions, adrenalin, and attitudes.

Obviously, this kind of alignment of neural activity can benefit more than a group of soldiers for purposes of war. It can also be used positively to engender a sense of close community for other constructive purposes. In a drum circle, all players are considered equal, regardless of ability and this too has a psychological effect on our relationship with the whole.

Deeper

All of the preceding has been rather utilitarian or even dry so far; speaking of entertainment, physical effects, and community building. These are worthy things in their own right, but for many, drumming is much deeper and more profound than these dry descriptions can do justice. As even a basic practitioner, I can attest to this, as well as the fact that such is the case even within a purely naturalistic path.

Japanese Taiko drumming.
(cc) Indaia Cultural, Flickr.com.

Watching a self-conscious drummer attempt the art is telling. Here, we see that successful drumming requires a kind of ‘handing over’ of some control and self-consciousness. The analytical side of us, when attempting to helm the ship in drumming, can’t pull it off. This is because drumming requires a real-time response. The analytical mind is thinking to itself, “ok, is it time for the next beat now? Now? Now? –ok Now!” and by the time the hand moves to hit the drum, it is already too late. The conscious judgmental mind is getting in the way. It’s too busy thinking about the beat. This is not unlike the folk tale about the centipede, when asked how it manages to coordinate all those legs to walk, suddenly loses the ability when it stops to think about it.

This is significant because the ‘uptight person’ must go through a kind of learning process to ‘let go’ in order to really enjoy the spiritual benefits of drumming. Here, the hand must already be moving to the drum and must strike it confidently at the right moment, without the conscious pre-confirmed knowledge that everyone else will, in fact, follow through with a strike. The dilemma might remind us of the funny example of the person who yells something embarrassing to a friend in the middle of a loud party, just as everyone happens to go silent, making their statement far more noticeable than intended. For all we know, everyone might place the beat in some other place or stop drumming, leaving the self-conscious person whacking a loud drum all by themselves – the horror!

This is somewhat like those exercises in trust, where someone falls backward letting another catch them. We must have a kind of faith that others (or the music) will go along with us in this beat we feel – we can’t wait for confirmation before proceeding or we will fail. It is not difficult to imagine what this might have to teach naturalists who are used to relying on their intellects and on evidence. It says something about the nature of dealing with reality as it is; often messy, incomplete, and often requiring action without all the answers.

Courtesy, Lisa Marie Bytheway.

It forces us to get to know ourselves – to learn to trust our instincts, our ways of sensing and acting in a complex environment intuitively and skillfully. This, in fact, could be considered an apt metaphor for what Taoists refer to as ‘skillful means’ in life. It is this kind of internalization and alteration of our direct responses that we seek in living more consistently with nature and our nature as rational/moral beings. This can potentially shift our attitude in ways that enable us to apply this perspective in other places in our life.

And as we become more accustomed to entering this state of mind, we learn to free ourselves from self consciousness, which could be an aspect of being constrained by the delusions of the ego. We enter that trancelike state of pure experience; without labels; without judgments, and the fictions they often impose upon us. This is, of course, a meditative state, with similar (though not identical) benefits and uses in our spiritual practice. It is also an example of flow which is being more appreciated lately as a source of contentment and happiness in life.

And, it is in this altered state of consciousness, that we can become perceptive to things we often overlook. As we give up part of that control, and we trust others to fill in the beats alongside us simultaneously, a network activity builds between these coordinated nervous systems. We begin to operate as a single neurological system, in every way that matters from an information-processing standpoint. This creates a profound sense of shared interconnectedness with others in the group. Importantly, this is not just a ‘feeling’, but it is a deep perception of an external truth: that we are, in fact, interconnected with one another in deeper ways than we are typically conditioned to appreciate or capable of directly perceiving.

As the famous jazz musician John Coltrane said, “All a musician can do is get closer to the sources of nature, and so feel that he is in communion with the natural laws”. Drumming, like any practice, may not be for everyone, but it is this very real and very natural enhanced perception that makes drumming a potential source of spiritual transformation.

It is not, then, too far a stretch for our minds to begin extending this perception of interconnectedness toward other people beyond the drum circle, toward all beings, and toward the universe as a whole. This has implications for cultivation of empathy and compassion and for our value systems, and for the actions that result from them.


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The Spiritual Naturalist Society works to spread awareness of spiritual naturalism as a way of life, develop its thought and practice, and help bring together like-minded practitioners in fellowship.

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Special thanks to Donna Alldredge, Lisa Fischer, Tom Brucia, and Ellis Arseneau for directing me toward resources and for their input, to Lisa Marie Bytheway for the photos, and to NAHO for their paper on hand drumming, and to the Drumming in the Spirit of Harmony Facebook group for their support.

A New (old) Skepticism

Pyrrho, often referred to as
the first Skeptic philosopher.

Skeptics have often been accused of being cynical, negative, etc. They will (quite appropriately) correct us that skepticism is not the same as cynicism – always about denying or a denial that we can reasonably know anything. While skeptics might reject certain claims on the basis of lacking or contradictory evidence, skepticism also includes the acceptance of claims on that same basis. Skepticism can be a good thing because it is the opposite of gullibility and fuzzy thinking.

So, that’s skepticism as the skeptics know it. But this article is titled ‘A New Skepticism’ because I’m about to discuss how Spiritual Naturalists do skepticism…

In the above there is some overlap with many of the ancient philosophies that might inspire various forms of spiritual naturalism. The Buddhist Kalama Sutra instructs us not to accept claims merely on the basis of authority, faith, tradition, or even our own musings – but rather because we have experimented and observed from that experience that it is true. In the West, the ancient Greek philosophers were creatures of reason. Although the modern scientific method would not be forged for several centuries to come, the elements of it comprised the way these thinkers approached knowledge. Through observation and reason they made their way – not by faith. Therefore, we spiritual naturalists have good cause to embrace a healthy skepticism.

But, unfortunately, some criticism of those who call themselves skeptics, and of skeptic communities, may be more difficult to shake. For those who are merely skeptics, or those who appear so due to their focus on this one value, an impression of being negative, inconsiderate, disrespectful, snobbish, or even brutish may arise. While the skeptic may be a perfectly fine person, this impression arises in the same way it might arise if we were to take any one value and emphasize it at the expense of other values which are meant to exist in balance. Further, much of this depends on the style in which skepticism is often promoted, and the motivation for doing so.

So, what is the spiritual naturalist approach to skepticism, and how does it differ from mere skepticism?

Naturalism is about more than just love of nature. It includes a reverent recognition of all things as a part of nature. And, it includes an approach to knowledge that cultivates the naturalist view. But, rather than talking about empiricism as some kind of key to perfect knowledge or as a superior possession to that of anyone else, the Spiritual Naturalist approach is different. Our aim is to envision and discuss this approach in terms of one of the many virtuous character traits we aim to cultivate in ourselves – namely, to see it through the lens of humility.

This is why I prefer to speak of “a humble approach to knowledge and claims”. I don’t talk about your beliefs – I don’t know your experience. Rather, what I can say is that when I make a claim my personal practice is to limit what I take to be true to that for which I can provide or reference some kind of external evidence. Importantly, this also includes refraining from claiming the opposite – that x is false – without sufficient evidence. This path is one of recognizing and emphasizing my own limitations of experience and my own limitations in ability to know all things (certainly including the greater secrets of existence).

Thus, rather than using this approach as a weapon to scrutinize or dissect the beliefs of others, I say to myself that this is a practice I have chosen to undertake and look more often to the mirror, asking myself if I am living it well. Often, I have found it helpful to refer to this discipline by an ancient term, Epoché (eh-POK-ay), to help maintain an attitude about it as being a sacred practice. In our member’s section, we have an article that discusses Epoché in more detail.

More generally, another big difference is that Spiritual Naturalists are concerned about many values beyond just epistemology. Here we try to show, by living example, that practice. Let us live in ways more centered on increasing compassion, mindfulness, kindness, helping others, forgiveness, mercy, self-discipline, and encouraging it more in the world. Let us proceed with a confidence that, when not being insulted or threatened, free human minds will tend toward reason in their own time and way.

When the impulse arises to criticize others’ beliefs, let us turn that energy toward projecting love and understanding – and that includes refraining even from the passive aggressive kind of comparative phrasing. When a person leaves an encounter with a Spiritual Naturalist, the difference should be obvious and perhaps even striking. This is the noblest goal of a rational being that recognizes that the value of even reason itself rests on the primacy of compassion. And, it is this – not tedious argumentation – that will peak the interest of others to want to know what this rational spirituality is all about.

But this cannot merely be some PR (public relations) tactic. Remember that the focus of Spiritual Naturalist practice is greater happiness and flourishing, and only personal transformation can accomplish this. This is why our true inner motivation and mindset should be one of concern for others. That this approach also spreads both compassion and reason in the world (often more effectively) is a wonderful bonus.

Sometimes, of course, sharing information may be integral to compassion, especially if we think it can help others. But here we must check that this is the true motivation, and not egotism. When it comes to sharing beliefs with others, we remind ourselves that Truth is sacred to the rational being and a powerful thing (that is, importantly, assuming that what we possess is Truth). If so, then we also recognize: that which is sacred and powerful should not be thrown about carelessly or dispensed without consideration. Truth best flows where the landscape naturally cradles its rivers. One does not take the waters of truth and flood crops and villages, so to speak. Here, we combine rationality with the wise practice the Taoists refer to as Wu Wei.

We also realize that Truth, devoid of compassion, can be abusive and vicious. This is why we don’t try to plant seeds in infertile soil. Instead, patience, reservation, love for those with whom we converse, and humility in our assumptions about our own knowledge are the hallmarks of a practicing Spiritual Naturalist.


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What is Spiritual Transformation? (Pt 2 of 2)

This is the second of a 2-part series on spiritual transformation (link to part 1). After the article (below) we continue with an audio conversation between DT Strain and B.T. Newberg of HumanisticPaganism.com…

A snake or serpent, which can shed it’s old skin, often represents
transformation. (cc) Neil Henderson.

Is Extraordinary Transformation Possible?

Granted, a more modest model of progress is essential, and perfection is most likely impossible. However, my experience in practice leads me to believe that, once one achieves a state similar to even an ambitious realistic model, once will tend to find that further improvement remains possible. This results in the limits of human transformative potential being surprisingly further than we may be willing to believe at the start of our practice, if we are disciplined and patient. We might call this extraordinary transformation; a kind that truly shifts our ‘root operating impulses’.

It is reasonable to ask whether this kind of transformation is possible. We may notice that spiritual leaders, who are supposed to be the exemplars of a practice, may often seem to have many of the same faults as anyone else. But I think it is a mistake to look toward leaders in evaluating the transformative potential of spiritual practice. The chief reason for this is that there is a distinction between the organizations of spirituality and spiritual practice. Spiritual practice is a deeply person thing which is about working on the person in the mirror. Only you have the ability to know if this is your true intent, and more importantly, only you have the ability to measure its results and progress. By contrast an organization, even the best of them, is a project of human inter-activity that focuses on external conditions by its nature. It is about actions in the world and seeking certain results (even if those desired results are more people engaged in personal practice). As someone who works in the Spiritual Naturalist Society for example, I must always be aware that my activity for the Society is not the same as my personal practice, or a substitute for it.

This distinction has real consequences when it comes to the distinction between people who become leaders in an organization and those who employ the practices for which those organizations stand. Very often, we will find that leaders of an organization do not practice its tradition as well as some. In fact, they can often be extremely poor examples; especially if they confuse their success as an organizational leader with success in their own walk. At the same time, many of the most successful and advanced practitioners may be on the outside of organized activity, as they may have chosen to focus their time and attention on their practice rather than on publications, promotions, events, giving talks, etc. So, this lack of correlation between leaders in organized traditions and differences in character should not be surprising and is not an indication that transformation is not real or possible.

Lastly, judging a practice by its practitioners also suffers because it is inherently impossible to measure a practitioners’ inner experience. Two people may come to work every day, smile, treat others in similar ways, and so on. Yet, one of them is deeply happy in life and the other one faces internal struggles. The extreme example of suicides that come as a complete surprise to friends and family illustrate this harshly, but more subtle and common examples abound. This is why the first-person experience is crucial: each of us must experiment for ourselves the effects of these practices on our deeper happiness and well-being.

Experience

While the scientific approach deals with objective reality from a third-person perspective, and spiritual practice is about cultivating first-person subjective states, the two are neither inherently at odds nor lacking in overlap. The kind of spiritual practice I’ve been describing is not one of faith-based belief. Rather, it is one whereby the practitioner is placed in the role of experimenter.

The Buddhist Kalama Sutra instructs the practitioner not to believe or accept something because of tradition, authority, scripture, superstition, etc. but because they have experienced for themselves whether it is true and effective. Both the scientific method and this kind of instruction overlap in placing experience and experiment at the center of acceptance of claims. Note that the latter case is different from an external experiment on the brain activity of meditators or the like. Because we are talking about cultivating individual subjective experience, each practitioner must conduct experimentation from inside their own private mental laboratory to confirm efficacy. Because all persons and brains vary, we should expect to see some variability in which kinds of practices have superior results – and because we share many traits we should expect to see many commonalities as well. This kind of procedure is not altogether foreign to science. For example, research on pain medication must include the subjective reports of subjects because pain, though it has physical correlates, is also a subjective experience.

And so it is from experience that I, and many others, can report that spiritual transformation of the kind described above is not only possible, but profoundly life altering. Before I describe this in detail, let me first address the inevitable and valid skeptical question of (a) how this differs from the ad populum of testimony from many people about bigfoot, angels, or aliens, and (b) how this differs from the testimony of people who claim their subjective experience of God or Jesus is evidence of the objective existence of these beings.

Whether or not certain realms or entities exist is a claim about objective facts. But no matter how ‘convinced’ I am by a subjective experience, that alone can never be sufficient to prove and objective fact. For this, corroborating objective evidence must be demonstrable and sharable between others. This attempts to use a subjective experience to attempt to prove an objective fact.

In the case for spiritual transformation, however, the intended results are inherently subjective. Therefore subjective experience of them is sufficient to constitute knowledge of the result. If a practice makes me happier, more at peace, or more content, then the claim that the practice results in happiness is – for me – self evidently true. If the claim were, “Jesus makes me happy” this requires an intermediary external fact to be true (there is a living entity that exists who makes people happy). If, however, the claim is “belief in Jesus makes people happy” this can be supported or undermined by studies of reports of happiness compared to the corresponding belief. Likewise, the claim “meditation makes people more at peace” does not depend on an intermediary fact. That would be more akin to something like, “meditation pleases Buddha who lives on an immaterial plane, and blesses those who meditate with peace of mind” – which is certainly not the naturalist approach. The mention of the number of people reporting the same experience with spiritual practice is meant, not to lend weight to an objective claim, but to show a high consistency of subjective reports, suggesting the reader has a reasonable likelihood of similar experience with practices.

My (Continuing) Transformation

As with most of us, my transformation began with learning. My days of looking at philosophy as merely some intriguing academic mental exercise are long behind me, but this is how many of us innocently slip into discovering what lies deeper. Socrates always fascinated me, so it may have been inevitable that I would find my way to the later Socratic schools. The Epicureans are a favorite of Humanists, but it was Stoicism where I began to notice really amazing effects on my life. Even in some of my earliest stages of learning about Stoicism, I found that just a few ‘drops’ of it went a long way.

It wasn’t long before things I was reading about Taoism and Buddhism would begin to show fascinating overlaps and similarities. That began a multi-year process of comparative study whereby I would analyze their commonalities and their respective strengths. These were not mere collections of claims about the world or its creation, or proclamations of ethical edicts. They consisted of real insights into our minds and our lives. These insights made me reassess many things in my life and began to affect how I responded to them. Yet, all of this was mere intellectual learning, helpful though it had already proven.

Many of us have had what I call profound experiences (also known as ‘religious experience’ or ‘peak experience’). In Embracing A Natural Life I explained some things about profound experience (as far as I could with words), and in our member educational archives the Society has an essay specifically about the nature and function of profound experience.

These come in many forms and have many different effects for us. But without connection to some philosophic perspective, they can often mean little more than an awe-inspiring event – simple entertainment. Perhaps they are moving to us for mysterious reasons and before long we are back to our ordinary lives.

For me, as I continued to read, discuss, and learn, the occasional profound experience served as epiphanies that helped me on my way. They were direct perceptions of amazing truths about the nature of our world, the nature of my own mind, and the nature of life – things which I had already agreed to intellectually, and thought I’d understood. But until I had these experiences it didn’t really ‘sink in’. These kinds of experiences helped me to internalize certain bits of wisdom on a more intuitive level. The experiences and the learning fed off of one another. The learning helped spark the experiences; sometimes at unexpected moments. And, the experiences inspired me to investigate and learn more.

One of these profound experiences happened while reading about complex systems theory; another happened while listening to the birds awaking in the trees in the morning. More profound experiences happened on a plain, petting my cat, listening to music, sharing experiences with friends, seeing films, in solitude, at temple, and so on – each of them different, yet each helping to ‘grok’ that for which language is so often a poor vehicle.

Simple assent to intellectual concepts is not spiritual transformation. That happens only when the wisdom becomes a deep part of how we intuitively see the world and react to it (and the content of that wisdom is too much for the scope of this essay to seriously address). Profound experience is not the only way the intellectual becomes the intuitive, but it often can provide abrupt plateaus along the gradual transformative climb of transformation.

More common are the everyday practices that help to condition our perspectives and ways of being. Meditation is one of the more common and foundational of spiritual practices. Although I am by no means a master and still have much to learn, my experience with meditation has been remarkable. It has increased my focus, my mindfulness (of both my surroundings and internal states), and my peace of mind. These skills are essential to further spiritual practices. The effects I have experienced from meditation have led me to want to explore it further, but it takes time practicing regularly.

Many other practices and rituals have been very helpful and transformative for me. These include journaling, negative visualization, vision quests, drumming, mindful walking, and what I like to call demeanor practice. Each of these have specific purposes and, in the proper philosophic context, can affect deep change over time.

This change has been pronounced, and has had effects in my life. One odd consequence that has come to my attention recently is that I seem to no longer be capable of embarrassment or any other form of social anxiety. This may be a subset of a near absence of certain kinds of deep fears, in general. While I admit this is an extraordinary claim, and that I may be experiencing them at undetectable levels, that perception in itself is significant. There have also been some personality changes over time, which seem correlated to my intentions to shift in that direction.

During one period I had been specifically practicing in a manner designed to increase my empathy and compassion. After a time, I noticed I was having problems. It seems I had so changed my responses that I was experiencing disturbing levels of distress whenever I became aware of the suffering of others (including media reports, etc). I went to see a monk about this (since the practices I were employing had been Buddhist) and he informed me that there were other aspects to Buddhist thought I had been missing; namely wisdom, which is meant to balance compassion. Specifically, he meant the wisdom of non-attachment and the acceptance of impermanence. Thus began my process of moving toward greater balance. During these periods, it was not only my practices that changed in their general direction, but who I was had actually shifted over time, and in direct relation to a designed program.

The most notable example of transformation has been how much I was helped during the time my mother passed away. I explained this in more detail in the Embracing article, but in short I was fortified and sustained in ways that would not have been possible before. It was clear that I was not merely someone who had learned a few nifty ideas or techniques, but that I had become a different kind of being than the person I had been before – in my value systems, my responses, my reactions, etc. And, more importantly, the philosophic reading and learning would not have been enough to have affected me or my experience during that time. It was the practice that made the difference. The first of these surprising effects happened relatively early in my practice.

Today, I am coming into new challenges, such as concerns over becoming so different in character that I may seem too alien to relate well to others – an important thing for being supportive and doing good in the world. Even making public this concern may have the negative effect of sounding conceited, and surely I must caution myself against that. I am still very much a learner and still have my fair share of challenges and difficulties. Yet, I can’t deny that my practice has had an effect on how I see the world and how I relate to others who may not be on the same path (or, in some cases, any path). I mention this only to demonstrate how undeniable the reality of transformation is for me.

In fact, if profound spiritual transformation is not possible via naturalistic practice, then it is unclear why one would even engage in any spiritual tradition, other than seeking a community in the manner one might join a social club. Yet, my experience of this kind of transformation and the knowledge of what it can do for others is why the mission of the Spiritual Naturalist Society is so important.

Wisdom and the Role of Science

If we accept that self-directed transformation over time is possible, and that such transformation can result in deeper happiness, equanimity, inner fortitude, and so on; we may look to the next question. We might then ask, what exactly is the content of this wisdom we are supposed to internalize, and how do we know it is advice that results in the kind of change that will be most helpful?

Unfortunately, the past few centuries have set up a strange opposition between science and religion that does us a disservice – especially we naturalists who are looking for a meaningful spiritual practice. Even among Spiritual Naturalists, the culture has lead us to view science and religion or spirituality – even philosophy – as ‘non-overlapping magisteria’ at best, competitors at worst. But if we look to how all of this started out, we get a clearer picture of what’s going on.

Although the modern formalized scientific method did not emerge until the Enlightenment, there were certainly rational approaches to understanding our world many centuries before this. These rational approaches, though imperfect at times, often contained many elements of the scientific method. More importantly, these were approaches that valued experience, observation, logic, reason, and peer review (in the form of discourse). When Heraclitus spoke of the transformation of materials to and from one another, it is impossible not to think of him sitting alongside a river, carefully observing his environment. When Socrates debated the nature of the soul (mind) with Simmias, it is obvious from their arguments that these were men who were carefully considering observations they had made and the implications of those observations. One would not have gotten far with Socrates by proposing any knowledge on the basis of ‘faith’. The same can be said of the Buddha who, as I’ve mentioned, specifically rejected faith as a source of knowledge.

These thinkers approached the same universal struggles and torments we all face in life even today, and in their wisdom, arrived at many profound realizations. And, while they may have lacked much of the technical details, or even had many of them wrong, a surprising number of those realizations still hold remarkably true. This is why, for example, Stoicism was such an inspiration to modern cognitive therapeutic techniques.

Prior to the extreme specializations of today, philosophers were not only moral guides and logicians, they were scientists. In fact, no good philosopher would not be scientist and vice versa. It was not too long ago that science was referred to as ‘natural philosophy’. This makes sense when we consider that philosophy is the love of wisdom and wisdom must include the accurate collection of facts (though goes far beyond). Thus, any time we are asking: (1) what is, (2) what ought to be, or (3) how do we know those two things – we are doing philosophy. Religion is philosophy, science is philosophy, ethics is philosophy, logic is philosophy. It is all a part of ‘wisdom’ and its pursuit.

Later, some philosophers decided to focus on the ‘what is’ portion, and they became what we call scientists. Other philosophers decided to focus on ‘what ought to be’ and they became our ethicists and moral leaders. Still other philosophers focused on ‘how do we know’ and they became our mathematicians, logical analysts, linguists, and so on. Although each of these professionals needs to conduct themselves in their jobs such that the integrity of their respective methodologies are maintained, we as individuals have broader needs and concerns. The problem is that we’ve forgotten all of these folks are doing philosophy and all of this philosophy needs to play a role in our wisdom and our spiritual path if we are to be affective at achieving happiness.

When we realize the original role of philosophy, it should be clear that sciences such as social and cognitive psychology, for example, are not some new alternative to these traditions – they are the modern refinement and continuation of a centuries-long investigation. For instance, in Buddhism we are invited to learn more about how our minds work, and experience that through introspective observation in meditation and mindfulness. For the modern naturalistic Buddhist, the latest cognitive theories should inform our practice. As for methods of self-transformation, we are invited to experiment with these and studies on these methods are merely a continuation of the studies that have been conducted on practices by practitioners themselves since before we had a rigorous scientific method. A foundational integration of scientific knowledge and spiritual practice must be a distinctive characteristic of naturalistic spirituality if it is to be relevant and effective.

The Importance of a Sacred Approach

Yet, I should add a caution here regarding the role of science in our spiritual walk. While the technical terminologies and methodologies of science are critical for the integrity of its process and purposes (the ‘what is’ part of philosophy), there are two things of which we should be aware: (1) spiritual wisdom requires more than a collection of raw facts and theories, important though they are, and (2) the technical framing of these phenomena is not fully effective for cultivation of inner transformation.

By this, I mean that reading all the articles in all the scientific journals about practices, psychology, and happiness will never, on its own, result in spiritual transformation. Further, this is not due to a lack of scientific knowledge yet to be gained. If you had access to God’s library on Truth, you could come to memorize it all and this too would not result in spiritual transformation. At the same time, complete knowledge is not required for spiritual transformation, and is not a prerequisite to enlightenment.

As described, transformation of our character, disposition, perspectives, and responses comes not from intellectual knowledge, but from a series of rich experiences that penetrate many different aspects of our minds, emotions, memories, feelings, and so on. This is how the non-intuitive becomes the intuitive. These kinds of experiences happen naturally in life from time to time, and we can harness them if we have the proper wisdom on hand. But as I’ve mentioned, these are only signposts. The longer more enduring process of transformation comes from intentional participation in practices and rituals that facilitate deep experience of this nature. This means they need to have a moving aspect, and inspirational aspect, and so on. Technical language and mere knowledge are insufficient to generate such experience.

Further, the ‘third-person’ nature of scientific description is limited for these purposes, even if the data gained is illuminating and useful in its own way. Learning about the effects of meditation on a brain and why it has those effects will never be a substitute for meditating, and so it is with all other practices and rituals.

In our member archives, I have written an essay on what I call Sacred Tongue. There I make the case for the legitimacy of sacred and spiritual ways of framing the same facts – not merely as something to make us feel good. Rather, I argue for the legitimacy of this lexicon as a vehicle for truth, and communication of real aspects to phenomena that are not conveyed via technical lexicon. This is just one example of why a sacred/spiritual approach, as opposed to merely a technical psychological one, is important. Other important elements include music, physical procession, focal objects, human interaction, narratives, myth, iconography, and so on. This is what I mean when I speak of spiritual transformation and why it is relevant and central to a Spiritual Naturalist practice.

Thanks for reading. Below you can listen to a conversation between B.T. Newberg and myself that proceeds further into this topic…

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BONUS FEATURE:
A Conversation on Spiritual Transformation, with B.T. Newberg & DT Strain [1 hr 40 min].
To hear this audio discussion, please see the bottom of this article’s native page HERE.
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The Spiritual Naturalist Society works to spread awareness of spiritual naturalism as a way of life, develop its thought and practice, and help bring together like-minded practitioners in fellowship.
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Written by DT Strain. Many thanks to B.T. Newberg for his role in improving this content through lengthy discourse over email and voice. Thanks too, to the attendees of our local chapter in Houston for their valuable thoughts and input on this subject, and thanks to Patti for mentioning snakes as representing transformation.

What is Spiritual Transformation? (Pt 1 of 2)

In this 2-part series, we will not only look at spiritual transformation in detail, but at the end of part 2 we will feature an audio discussion of the article between its author, DT Strain, and B.T. Newberg of HumanisticPaganism.com.

Transformation. (cc)Hartwig HKD (h.koppdelaney).

Coming from a middle-American Christian background, one of the things that struck me as I learned more about ancient philosophy and Eastern schools of thought was the notion of one’s religion or philosophy being about a practice rather than merely a set of beliefs. In Christianity, as it is more commonly promoted, the emphasis is on what you believe. This, not ‘works’ is what will determine your damnation or salvation. Even my later conversion to secular humanism would not get me out of this belief-based mentality. The Humanist Manifesto describes humanism as a worldview and a “lifestance” while listing a group of (excellent) principles, the assent to which is sufficient to count one’s self as a Humanist; absent any glaring obvious misbehaviors. Today it seems almost the entirety of humanity assumes that being a member of any particular religious or similar group is merely a matter of opening one’s trap at a cocktail party and proclaiming the right combination of talking points.

Yet philosophy, as practiced in ancient Greece for example, was more than a mere academic pursuit. It was more than a set of positions on various issues or a set of beliefs. The philosopher of ancient Greece and Rome engaged in a set of practices designed to cultivate the flourishing life – and that was almost entirely centered on the development of inner character in specific, guided ways. Thus, they tended to live and fulfill a role more akin to a Buddhist monk than the professorial types called philosopher today.

This is the avenue (via the ancient Western philosophers) by which I came to begin investigating Buddhism and was similarly struck by its nature. Buddhism is not so much about what you believe as it is about what you do. It too is a practice by which we cultivate ourselves and in so doing, achieve enlightenment and release from suffering. Having come to Buddhism through the practice-oriented Greek philosophers, I had fortunately been prepared to receive this approach without prematurely dismissing it simplistically as some Eastern parallel to Christian supernatural salvation. There are many other examples of practice-centered traditions beyond Buddhism.

Enlightenment is a Process

The original title for this article was going to be “What is Enlightenment?” But for the naturalist, enlightenment is not a single moment of omniscience. Rather, it is a spectrum on which we all move in a continual process of development and transformation. So, the more appropriate question is to ask, “What is spiritual transformation?”

Simply put, spiritual transformation is the result of a successful spiritual practice. Remember, here we use the term ‘spiritual’ in the sense that is applicable to a naturalist – as that which is essential (ala “spirit of the law”); that which relates to the deeper, foundational principles pertinent to the good life. A ‘practice’, as opposed to a ‘faith’, ‘belief’, or a ‘lifestance’ – is a way of living whereby we engage in various regular activities and thinking habits designed to change ourselves in specific helpful directions. That is, to be more capable of experiencing True Happiness (a deeper happiness and contentment not dependent upon mere external circumstance). This is a long-term project in which we expect to see progress over time. For this reason, it is referred to as a ‘path’ or a ‘walk’.

Many naturalists and secular people have come back from events where ritual or other practices took place, and reported the experience as empty, or as merely going through the motions. This may happen when an atheist attends a Unitarian Universalist service, or when a Humanist tries out meditation, or when a group of Freethinkers feel uncomfortable singing odes to reason at a group celebration – even if they agree with the lyrics and were just jumping up and down at a rock concert a few nights prior.

This disconnect happens when we lack awareness of the philosophical foundations of practice. We don’t fully understand what we are doing, and why we are doing it. In fact, even many people who enthusiastically embrace various practices do not have a full grasp on how all of these ‘spiritual things’ fit together in a whole system. How does meditation relate to our value system? What role does religious/peak/profound experience play in a spiritual practice and why? How does awe/wonder fit in to our knowledge of nature? And how does all of that relate to ritual? Without some kind of general picture of one’s practice as a complete system of self-development, all rituals and practices may continue to feel like empty theater.

This difficulty is not the fault of these folks, because our culture has yet to fully realize well-established naturalistic spiritual practices. Therefore those of us (who even see the value in such a journey to begin with) end up fending for ourselves and grabbing things ala carte from various traditions in the hope it all works together. Indeed, addressing this issue and building informed spiritual foundations to naturalist practice is what the Spiritual Naturalist Society is all about. With that in mind, I’d like to share some of what I’ve come to after about eight years of carefully studying Eastern and Western comparative philosophy.

Engineering the Subjective

The endeavor of spiritual practice is predicated on the observation that different people in the same material circumstances can have vastly different subjective experiences. These affect their happiness, contentment, equanimity, fortitude, and overall quality of life. The rational/empirically minded among us have the habit of looking at things scientifically, which means from a third-person external  perspective. This can encourage many of us to dismiss the subjective as ‘not real’ or even ‘not important’. Yet, if happiness is our aim, and we know that both happiness and suffering exist in all external circumstances, then we must begin by acknowledging that our aim is a subjective one. Of course, for ourselves and others, we will continue to harness our energies toward less poverty, war, and illness; greater works; better technologies; and so on. But when even the wealthiest among us can be found committing suicide or lingering in bitterness or despair, then something more essential must be addressed. The endeavor of crafting a spiritual practice, therefore, is a matter of engineering the subjective. In other words, the subjective matters. Admitting that will have profound implications as we proceed to understand naturalistic spirituality.

The next obvious question is, what is the difference between someone who can retain equanimity under harsh conditions and one who becomes crushed? What is the difference between one who remains balanced amidst plenty and one who yet continues to suffer, perhaps more? What is the difference between a happy and an unhappy person, both in moderately reasonable conditions? Philosophers have pondered these questions and it turns out that we’ve had some pretty good thoughts on all of this well before the Common Era. I’m going to jump ahead a bit and simply list some character traits that many traditions have seemed to zero in on. Since none of us are perfectly enlightened, it is always easier to recognize the absence of enlightenment. So, I will begin with a list of what I call “the default person”. That is, the person as typically develops in the absence of any notable degree of wisdom…

Of course, we could go into detail about each of these areas, from what truths they arise, and how they pertain to happiness. But this brief listing should give a sufficient indication of the relevant qualities for purposes of this article.

Nearly all practice-based traditions have some kind of representation of the ‘perfect practitioner’. For some of them it is a specific character or person, for others it is more of a title, and still others it is a general type of being. This entity or entities may be thought to be literal or hypothetical. The Buddhists have the concept of ‘buddhahood’ and the Stoics had the ‘sage’. But in all of these cases, the enlightened being served as an ideal example or a model to help guide practice and establish goals. In our case, we can inverse the above qualities to get a picture of what we are aiming for in our practice. I call this, the “transformed person”…

Most naturalists would likely agree that perfection is not possible or reasonably expected. And while these two lists paint a picture of a person as either ‘default’ or ‘transformed’ what this more aptly suggests is a scale between two extremes. As we engage in our practice, the purpose is to continually shift our character such that we become less like the former and more like the latter. And, more importantly, we will experience greater happiness and less suffering to the degree to which we achieve this.

Reasonable Goals vs The Ideal Model

Since the Transformed Person described above is taken to be a perfect ideal, there are some cautions we should heed. First is the reminder that the ideal is an abstraction and not expected to be achieved, as no human being is perfect. Anyone claiming to have achieved this state should expect a high degree of skepticism from others and should be skeptical of themselves. Further, we should also not blame ourselves if we fall short of the ideal, as this is inevitable. Should an ideal model become a source of self-blame, that would be contrary to the flourishing life that is our aim, and not a rational or accurate perspective. Yet ideal models, if used properly, are important because they point to the horizon and give us a pure way of discussing basic principles without particulars and the pragmatic realities getting in the way of understanding.

But then, of course, we must deal with pragmatic realities in a realistic practice. For this reason, it may also be important to have other models to guide us. These models may not represent the perfect or ideal practitioner, but may outline achievable mile markers along the path. They would represent a practitioner that is making progress. In conversations on this topic with B.T. Newberg, he has written an excellent description of such a person as follows:

“Thus, the [practitioner making progress] should cultivate humility, defined as an awareness of personal bias leading to an eagerness to overcome it through the process of peer critique (this necessitates community).  Rather than seeking to be unmoved by praise or blame, the practitioner should seek to receive both praise and blame with grace and gratitude, while filtering it through critical analysis and peer advice.  The ideal practitioner should also cultivate right relationship with external conditions, striving to receive circumstances with the same grace and gratitude as praise or blame, while fully accepting his or her power to change those circumstances that can be changed and accept/integrate those that can’t. The ideal practitioner should also cultivate courage, defined as right action in spite of fear, as well as a kind of virtuous desire, defined as eagerness for that which is most likely to yield long-term flourishing.  To these ends, the practitioner will have to achieve an awareness of and facility with the many intuitive impulses that lead in other directions, and integrate them in right relationship with the reasoning process as well as social propriety.  Mastery of attention, big mind, and most of the other bullet points of the transformed person may be invaluable tools in this endeavor.  In the end, the practitioner should focus on becoming not a sage but a better member of a community of sagehood.”  –B.T. Newberg

So this addresses practical transformation, but in Part 2 I continue with the question: Is Extraordinary Transformation Possible?


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The Spiritual Naturalist Society works to spread awareness of spiritual naturalism as a way of life, develop its thought and practice, and help bring together like-minded practitioners in fellowship.
__________
Many thanks to B.T. Newberg for his role in improving this content through lengthy discourse over email and voice. Thanks too, to the attendees of our local chapter in Houston for their valuable thoughts and input on this subject.

Do you believe in Love?

(c) Eirik van Hoegee.

In studying ancient philosophy (the very thoughts that shaped the course of later ideas, culture, and history to come) it is impossible to really understand what you read without setting aside the modern day connotations of the words used. Many of the words like 'spirit', 'gods', 'soul', have been Christianized and taken on meanings that are subtly but significantly different. Instead, to get inside the minds and perspectives of early thinkers you must do as one little green Jedi master suggested, "unlearn what you have learned". When we do this, a fascinating picture of how some ancient people conceived the universe begins to emerge - one that is perhaps far more compatible with our modern scientific and naturalistic understanding than is often appreciated.

I find John 4:8 highly interesting, "Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love." I've looked at 18 different translations of this verse, and though the first portion is translated slightly different in all of them, they all phrase it exactly as "God IS love" - not "God is loving", "God is the source of love", "God loves", and so on.

The 18th Century cleric and theologian John Wesley noted that God is often called holy, righteous, and wise in the Bible, but he isn't called "holiness", "righteousness", or "wisdom" in the abstract, as he is here with Love. The Jamiseson-Fausset-Brown biblical commentary says of this verse, "God is love - There is no Greek article to love, but to God; therefore we cannot translate, Love is God. God is fundamentally and essentially LOVE; not merely is loving..."

So then, looking at the original Greek, the word used was ἀγάπη or "agapē". This sets it apart from Philia (brotherly friendship love) and Eros (romantic love). Agapē referred to a response to promote well being even when the other has done ill. Thus, it is sometimes translated as "charity". This indicates an intention to refer to a kind of 'motherly' love that is unconditional; that is not dependent upon circumstances or the actions of the recipient ('charity' being the broader concept of giving something you don't 'owe' to the person due to surrounding events or conditions). Agapē is the kind of selfless universal loving-kindness ("Metta") Buddhists, for example, also seek to cultivate.  

This is what the book of John says God IS - not what God does, or a separate quality that God possesses. A=B and B=A, the two are synonymous according to John.

This makes more sense when you consider some of the ancient Greek philosophy that greatly influenced Christianity from its earliest incarnations. The Stoics' concept of Zeus was somewhat illusive as far as his/its personal vs impersonal nature. The Stoics also used the concept of the Logos, which originated as a philosophic concept in Heraclitus around the 5th Century BCE.

By Heraclitus' use, the Logos was the underlying rational principle or order by which the universe operated. It also meant "word", as in 'description' or perhaps 'logic'. Later Stoics would consider the Logos to be the divine animating principle pervading the universe; some prominent Stoics' having more of a personal interpretation than others. Today we might consider Logos in these senses as something like 'the laws of physics' or the logic of how nature functions - though with a much more sacred tone. In my own spirituality, I often refer to the Logos, which I find a more effective phrase than speaking of the laws of physics (Society members can read more about the use of Sacred Tongue in our member archives). The self-described atheist Albert Einstein comes close to this approach by referring to the subject of his work as seeking to know the mind of God. Nevertheless, in both Einstein's case and Heraclitus' the terms seem quite impersonal.

The philosopher Philo would adopt the Logos term into Jewish philosophy*. By the time of the Gospel of John (late 1st Century CE), Logos is defined as divine and: that through which all things are made (the Word of God). John 1:1 doesn't merely refer to God speaking words, but says "...and the Word (Logos) was God". This would seem to indicate an impersonal description of God as the laws of nature. However personal or impersonal Logos has become by this time, it becomes fully personal when Jesus is described in the book of John as the Logos incarnate (the Word made Flesh).

This is not the only example of something that would seem personal, but which the Greeks would use in a broader impersonal sense. "Eros" is commonly described as romantic or sexual love. But philosophically the term was used as a universal law of attraction. That is, all attraction that occurred in nature, be it between atoms or between lovers, were manifestations of the general principle of attraction (Eros). This illuminates just how naturalistic the ancient Greeks were in conception, even if the details of their exact theories have been refined or replaced since. As modern day naturalists, when we really conceive of all of Nature as One interconnected whole, operating by the same laws - including the workings of our minds - then the logic of referring to general concepts which cross the boundary between that with and without human agency begins to make more sense. In integrating the implications of complex systems theory into my own spirituality, I have found such generalized concepts a helpful tool.

It would be no wonder, then, if Agape - like Eros - was also a kind of general natural force. If God is the Logos (natural law), and God is Agape (universal love), then both of these kinds of statements could be seen as descriptions of the kinds of natural forces or principles which the writers of the bible may have been associating with the term "God". The more one looks into the lineage of these terms from ancient Greek to early Christianity, the more unoriginal 17th Century Baruch Spinoza's impersonal natural God sounds**.

Early thinkers thought of God as 'the underlying rational order' - the laws of Nature. If love was also described as the principle of the binding of things to one another, this indicates interconnectedness and interdependence. In the 20th Century, Christian philosopher and monk Thomas Merton described Compassion as the "keen awareness of the interdependence of all things". Thus is the bridge between how God can be both physics and love. Spiritual Naturalists will vary on whether they find use of the G-word helpful; some of our members use it and others do not. But this more naturalistic and impersonal interpretation of God is not a new convention. We have good reason to think, in many cases, this may have been the original or earliest philosophic thought of what was meant when the word 'God' was used - and that should be interesting to anyone practicing a naturalistic spirituality.


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The Spiritual Naturalist Society works to spread awareness of spiritual naturalism as a way of life, develop its thought and practice, and help bring together like-minded practitioners in fellowship.

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Many thanks to Dr. Marian Hillar, Religious History professor at Texas Southern University, for reviewing a draft of this article for historic and academic accuracy.

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* Dr. Marian Hillar has contributed papers on Philo's use of 'Logos', available in our member archives.
**In fairness to Spinoza, his own take was more appropriately claimed to be a proper interpretation of original concepts, rather than intended to be 'original'.

Distractions to Spiritual Practice, Pt 4

There are many important and noble endeavors which are, quite simply, not spiritual practice. Many of these activities may be very important and even help in our spiritual walk, cultivating various faculties. Yet, they can also become a distraction to our spiritual practice if we confuse them with it.

This is the final part of a 4-part series which explains, in each part, one of four deceptive distractions to a core purpose of spiritual practice: cultivating, with applied practices, wisdom and a character that is more capable of flourishing. That is, addressing fear, anger, and greed; compassion for all beings and an inner happiness not dependent on external circumstance. Last time we covered the distraction of academics (link to part 3 here). This time we cover the fourth distraction: Fixing the world.

Fixing the World

People who consciously pursue spirituality tend to be caring, loving people and this means there is a high correlation with those who are concerned with the ills of the world and the suffering and plights of others (a wonderful thing!). Yet, this can result in a myopic or obsessive focus on large-scale social issues.

With social ills, we often tend to consider the entire matter from a third-person sociological perspective, as though we were aliens floating above the planet, looking down on humanity. Then we imagine that we can come up with ‘solutions’ which we can – through writing, debating, protesting, or conflicting – convince our fellow human beings to employ (who will certainly follow our undeniable fact-based conclusions), thus correcting the current state of affairs.

While progress is definitely possible, this approach can be a bit naïve even if admirably optimistic. Spirituality is not sociology. This common approach tends to assume we have more ability to assess the current situation, more ability to foresee the best course of action for everyone, and more ability to control the actions of others than we really do. In actuality, it is more likely that the course of human civilization on the scale of society is a huge cultural tide against which even the most ‘powerful’ of us have little ability to direct within a predictable margin.

Even if we imagine we could know everything that needs to be done, how then would we make everyone do it? Where spirituality is concerned, this question is misplaced because molding the world to our liking (for good or ill) is not the aim of spiritual practice. Rather than fixing the world, spiritual practice calls on us to fix ourselves. Let me put that more precisely: spiritual practice calls on me to fix myself.

As such, it recognizes that the only thing I really control is my choice, my actions, and my character. It also recognizes that, even the most noble of causes – feeding starving children, helping the sick, securing justice and human rights – are but externals. They are things not ultimately in our control, and therefore circumstance cannot be a prerequisite for spiritual progress, True Happiness, or flourishing. Attachment to ‘good causes’ is still attachment and will, just as assuredly, be a road block to spiritual progress.

Now to address the predictable and eternal response to this point: please know that this is not a call for indifference or to do less good work in the world. We, in fact, need more of it. This is about our internal disposition as we do that work. Doing good is an essential part of the spiritual life, but it is not about the outcome of that work. Rather, it is about our motivation within. If we do good because we want to be the kind of person who does good, because we want to have a compassionate character, then we are, as the Taoists put it, impervious. We are not attached to outcomes, which are ultimately arbitrated by the universe. It is this cultivation of virtuous character (that necessitates positive action) which is the spiritual endeavor – not achieving certain conditions in the world. When we forget that, we are distracted from spiritual progress and, ironically, end up harming even those external causes because we can become burnt out, demoralized, or hateful whenever our machinations prove for naught and external conditions do not match our aims.

What is Not a Distraction to Spiritual Practice?

In this series, I have listed cosmological speculation, the ego, academics, and fixing the world as distractions to spiritual practice. One of the things that is not a distraction to spiritual practice is the one thing most often given as an excuse for not pursuing a spiritual practice; that is, the demands of our schedules and everyday life!

Gandhi suggested that we meditate one hour every day, unless we are busy, in which case two. While the length of meditation is open to many views, the implication is that the busier we are, the more centered and spiritually balanced we need to be. But an important thing to understand is that spiritual practice isn’t just about those official techniques we give names to and set aside time to do those activities. There is absolutely no benefit, in itself, of sitting cross-legged silently with eyes closed for any period of time. The real purpose of a spiritual practice, be it meditation or any other, is that we become more capable of applying and using what these practices do to us and for us in everyday life; confronting the challenges of the day, each day.

Everything we do, from caring for children, to running errands, to cleaning, to interacting with one another, is an opportunity to put spiritual wisdom into practice and further hone our habits, character, and state of being. If spiritual teachings are not applicable to the real life of ordinary human beings, then they are useless. This should help illustrate how off-base are thoughts of real life being an obstruction to spiritual practice. Real life is what spiritual practice is all about.

(Those who choose to become members of the Society have access to our member archives, which includes a more in-depth version of this complete series.)

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Thanks to B.T. Newberg and Rick Heller for their thoughts and input on both this article and the more in-depth piece in our member archives.

Distractions to Spiritual Practice, Pt 3

This is the third of a 4-part series which explains, in each part, one of four deceptive distractions to a core purpose of spiritual practice: cultivating, with applied practices, wisdom and a character that is more capable of flourishing. That is, addressing fear, anger, and greed; compassion for all beings and an inner happiness not dependent on external circumstance. Last time we covered the distraction of the ego (link to part 2 here). This time we cover the third distraction: Academics.

Academics

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Humanity has been seeking wisdom, in all of its cultures over the entire globe, for thousands of years. The wealth of wisdom and teachings available today is truly vast. There will always be more to learn, and even if it were possible to read it all, we would find that the entirety of human thought and wisdom is but a tiny island in a vast ocean of what is yet to be understood.

Again, learning more is an important component of a good life and a spiritual practice. But there is something very important to understand: even if we were to read every text of, for example, Buddhism, we would still not really understand Buddhism. Spirituality is about human happiness and well-being, and this is inherently a subjective experience. It’s practices are designed to affect that subjective experience. Therefore, only through first-person applied practice of the teachings over time, can we ever really investigate and understand that to which shallow human language is referring.

The Western approach of accumulating data and analyzing it intellectually from the third-person perspective before giving assent is completely inadequate to making progress along these spiritual paths. Just as our spirituality must refrain from making claims about reality, leaving that space to objective investigation – we must also acknowledge the space for subjective investigation and where it’s proper realm exists.
When we get into bantering about academic philosophic principles and works, name-dropping various thinkers and writers and so on, we can trick ourselves into thinking that we are engaged in spiritual practice. Yet, without practice, all of this academic knowledge, writing, and discussion is mere vanity.
You can subscribe to get notice future articles in this series, where we will cover further examples of distractions to spiritual practice.

(Those who choose to become members of the Society have access to our member archives, which includes a more in-depth version of this complete series.)

Continue to Part 4

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The Spiritual Naturalist Society works to spread awareness of spiritual naturalism as a way of life, develop its thought and practice, and help bring together like-minded practitioners in fellowship.
__________
Thanks to B.T. Newberg and Rick Heller for their thoughts and input on both this article and the more in-depth piece in our member archives.