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.

Today my toe dips back into spiritual waters. Anyone following this blog recently has seen the discouragement gripping me for the past week. Those who have read longer, perhaps since the posts started in May 2009, must recognize repeated cycles of euphoria and depression. The ‘up’ feelings last at most a few days, whereas the ‘downs’ can go on for weeks. But neither side lasts forever.

Does anyone experience consistent moods? Probably not. My fluctuations differ by 1) being more intense than average, and 2) tilting heavily toward depression. But this is only compared to the ‘norm’. Those who explore mental health blogs are probably not surprised to encounter a person whose moods gyrate. Looking at other journals in this genre, or enjoying the comments left here, shows me that the problem of mood swings resonates with others. Which convinces me to keep writing in spite of despair.

In darker moods, this site seems pointless. More than once I’ve announced defeat, and planned to drop the thing for good. Each time encouraging messages come in from readers. There may not be many who stop here, but those who do are endlessly kind. Your comments make me feel like my writing helps someone besides myself. That’s all it takes to swallow frustration, self-criticism and fear, and return to the keyboard.

Which brings me to the third way that ‘Faith Works‘, if you remember the theme. Earlier posts lined up facts that justify faith. The first fact was that spiritual beliefs help improve lives in at least three ways: by motivating good choices, by easing the pain of isolation, and by providing meaning. Today’s post is about how Faith Works by making sense out of our lives.

When someone says a post offered insight or comfort, s/he makes blogging feel like it matters. Helping is a service to others, but being helpful promotes self-worth. Believing that my blog benefits a few people justifies the effort; it makes the project meaningful.

Spiritual beliefs provide exactly the same feeling. Faith that a universal consciousness takes in my experiences, and is instructed by them, makes mood swings and grief endurable. Sitting in the woods with eyes closed, one feels a subtle resonance in the surrounding forest. Such ‘felt mystery’ can bolster a conviction that one’s mental life is not isolated, but extends beyond the grapefruit-sized brain to a larger, all-encompassing awareness. My faith involves imagining that each person’s life contributes to the totality of this larger mind. Other people get to bring joy to this embracing consciousness, but my role is to bring it (mostly) sadness. Faith that my grief enriches a universal mind transforms my discomfort from personal tragedy to collective wisdom. I feel heard, and I feel helpful.

There may be no such consciousness. My sense of ‘presence’ may simply reflect rhythmic activity in brain cells. But pain is more tolerable when combined with the belief that each person’s trials nourish something larger. It does not matter what image one uses to organize faith. It could be of an oceanic mind spreading across the cosmos, or it could be of a human being born as the torch of God. It’s the sense of significance that matters, not how it’s gained.

My education has taught me much. Not just the college/grad school/med school routine, but also the maternal suicide/child abuse/family chaos that preceded it, and the career loss/psycho-physical deterioration/chronic pain that followed. Believing that trauma has conveyed powerful lessons about human life and human nature is often my only consolation. By itself, my ‘wisdom’ is little more than a flimsy blanket that takes the edge off the cold. But with faith that my life story enlarges a universal consciousness, I feel warm and safe and valuable. And more ready to keep up the fight.

Whether or not there actually is a universal spirit, BIOPE, or God, the faith alone makes life feel meaningful. Many people do just fine without such beliefs. They find resources within themselves to weather their sorrows. Perhaps I am weaker, or more wounded, or both, but my survival hinges on the possibility of a BIOPE. The belief that my little tragedies ‘matter’ carries me through bleak hours of agony in heart, mind, and body. Faith provides meaning, and meaning motivates motoring on.

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