WillSpirit!

This post is one in a string of essays about spirituality. It may make sense to start with the first entry in the series.

Isolated and alone. Doesn’t that sound sad? The phrase makes me think of a frail and ancient man or woman, sitting in front of the TV by hirself (his- or herself,) day after day. No one visits, no one calls, no one cares. And yet, at heart, every one of us lives alone. We may be blessed with a large family and circle of friends. We may have a spouse who really cares, and with whom we spend most of our time. But deep down, we know that we must rely on ourselves. Those with a big social network are more fortunate than those without, but no one has the luxury of escaping the feeling of being an island unto oneself.

What if there were a consciousness that connected us? What if our personalities did not echo pointlessly within our skulls, unremarked by the cosmos, forgotten at the moment of our death? What if, instead, they formed a connection with every other mind in the universe? Instantly. No matter what the separation. Maybe even across the fields time. Would that help ease the pain of isolation?

I am not talking about thought transfer or telepathy. I do not believe in mind-reading or even ESP. I am not even saying the conscious network this post is postulating actually exists. But first of all, I think it’s a possibility. And secondly, I do believe it would help.

It could be real without our immediate awareness. The inner thought-stream that characterizes human life is a new phenomenon, probably unshared by all the animal species that preceded us. It may be a form of data processing that has separated itself from the primary stream. You might use the analogy of a personal computer and the Internet. You can perform many functions locally using your processor and local drive, without transferring information to or from the web. But the potential for connection remains, and for all you know there may be all kinds of electricity moving back and forth without your word processing software being affected. Our individual minds may function in isolation much of the time, but maintain a potential for connection. Or our verbal thoughts may click along without any awareness that a connection exists at deeper, more hidden levels.

Probably, this connection would not be the sort that transfers complex information. In fact, since I am postulating instantaneous connectedness, no data in the usual sense can be transferred at all, or the system would violate the fundamental principle that information cannot move through the universe faster than light. What gets connected is just presence, kinship, alikeness. What happens to me happens to you because we are one.

That’s enough for now. What I just did was spell out a little bit more of the sort of BIOPE the universe permits. I am not saying that such a connection is definitely present. I am only suggesting that it could be. And at this stage you’ll need to take my word for it. As I proceed the series will, I hope, justify these statements. But I need to introduce the idea here because I want to continue the theme of ‘Faith Works’.

The second in my list of three ways that Faith Works was: ‘by easing the pain of isolation.’ If a BIOPE functions in anything like the way I just described, we can take comfort that we are not alone. If there is a connection that ripples through the cosmos, which makes the traumas you suffer mine, and the triumphs I suffer yours, and vice versa, then we do not need to feel so isolated.

In fact, people accept connectedness all the time, without describing it in the way I’ve done. Heroes yield their lives for the benefit of others, because they know that in some way all fates are intertwined. The hero may die in body, but hir actions live on. Hir bravery gets remembered for a long time. The consequences, the lives saved, ripple outward indefinitely. One person’s sacrifice benefits the very person who seems to be giving up everything. How? The hero understands that all fates are one. S/he may not use the kind of ‘universal consciousness’ metaspeak I’m employing. But the connection is felt, is known.

Recently I finished reading a textbook about the evolution of behavior. Much if not all altruism can be explained as, in one way or another, increasing the odds of an organism passing its genes onward into subsequent generations. Does that change what I’m saying? Not really. Passing genes onward is just another way of passing on one’s effects, one’s existence. Just because altruistic behavior has evolved randomly, its impact remains the same. If anything, it shows the propensity of matter to connect to other matter through time.

These are very abstract concepts. I will try to explain them in more concrete language further on. Again, my point is just to suggest that connection between beings is real. On the physical level it cannot be denied. Whether there is a unifying and nonmaterial conscious network, a BIOPE, is speculative, to say the least. Either way, however, we can take comfort that our isolation is not as total as it seems. We are part of something grand. We are connected to all other matter and living things. Our actions, every one of them, have consequences. Even individual thoughts have a way of leaking outward. If I tell myself life sucks, I’m alone, and nothing good will ever happen to me, sooner or later I will communicate that sentiment to others. It might only be by revealing a momentary facial expression, or an unconscious sigh. Even if its effect is tiny, every action has physical consequences. The fact that all our actions affect the universe forever is a sign of our deep connectedness on the material plane. My suggestion is that the interaction continues beyond material frames, and through them, to something more mysterious. Something that lies at the very root of matter, at the level where physicists scratch their heads because the mathematics gets almost impossibly complicated, and the implications too strange to grasp.

Let’s back up. Imagine an alcoholic enters AA, and soon after has a spiritual experience of some kind that makes hir think that a higher power exists. S/he gets a feeling of universal love that thrills hir heart for just a moment. The feeling passes, but leaves the alcoholic with the belief that s/he has connection with a loving presence that is never far. Suddenly, the heart feels less alone. There is a sense that the universe is less scary. And this lucky person realizes that if this ‘presence’ loves hir, the s/he could learn to love hirself. In fact s/he should do so out of respect.

That is a major benefit of faith. The person who enjoys that kind of spiritual enlightenment might write it off as a momentary dream-like state, or a hallucination. In fact, s/he probably will wonder about that often. But if s/he maintains belief, s/he will feel better. Isolation will melt away. Maybe just for a moment now and then, but enough to ease the drumming pain of loneliness. Enough for the suffering person to have hope. Enough to make another day in this cosmos bearable without a chemical to numb away the sorrow of feeling isolated from others.

Note that this benefit accrues even if the BIOPE does not exist. Just the belief that love spreads its perfume through the universe, sweetening the days of everyone, is enough. The scent could be imaginary. The universe could be heartless and uncaring. But if I believe otherwise, I feel lifted up. Thus, the second fruit of faith, the easing of the pain of loneliness, comes even if no mystical threads exist. Belief alone is enough.

Once again, I have to suggest that if faith can make one feel better in this way, then perhaps it does not matter whether the BIOPE, or ‘God,’ exists. Maybe we would do well to allow ourselves a little leeway, and have faith knowing full well it could be based on nothing more ‘mystical’ than the fact we share this universe with others whose welfare is intertwined with our own. What would be the harm?

***Click here for the next entry in this series.