WillSpirit!

This post is one in a string of essays about spirituality. It may make sense to start with the first entry in the project. On the other hand, the writing gets easier to read, and the posts shorter, later in the series.

Looking at the wretched state of humanity, it can be hard to believe in a caring, guiding power. But one can remember that we often watch those we love come to harm, while we remain powerless to protect them. A God-like entity could be overflowing with affection, but lack the ability to guide us away from mishap or cruelty. Another objection to faith comes from the perception that scientific findings rule out mystical forces. But later posts will show that our understanding remains incomplete, with corners of mystery that might harbor a universal consciousness. Finally, if one remains locked in verbal mode, and never relaxes into wordless wonder, it can seem impossible that anything ‘mystical’ could exist. But sometimes it’s healthy to remain childlike, and open our hearts to magic.

Many of us have trouble healing because our ever-reasoning brains refuse to relax and let faith emerge. In discussing a possible universal consciousness, or BIOPE, these posts suggest ways that one can use established facts to overcome the logical mind’s resistance. In pursuit of this goal, everything has been kept as ‘rational’ as possible. Even so, the endeavor will help only those who want to believe. It is aimed at the seeker who has difficulty feeling comfortable with faith. Which convinces me it’s a mistake to bypass discussion of my personal spiritual experiences in the service of avoiding ‘irrational’ content. If it’s a given that readers are seeking transcendent support, why not share what seemed like messages from God? Those who would be alarmed by such material won’t read these posts anyway.

William James and many others have noted recurrent strains in religious experiences. The themes my visions shared with those of others included: 1) a feeling that the universe is filled with love; 2) an awareness of the unity of creation; 3) an understanding that all is somehow ‘right’ in the cosmos. As will be spelled out later, a few additional insights came my way. But for now, let’s stick with the basics, begining with universal love.

In the midst of my ecstasies, I felt the love of creation in much the same way one feels heat radiating from an open oven. The first time it swept over me, the vigor of God’s affection nearly knocked me down. It was the end of an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, and a surge of spiritual awareness had been building inside me for an hour. As we said the Lord’s Prayer in a circle, it felt like I was standing in the path of a breaking wave of love. My body and heart filled with warmth, and I knew with utter certainty that God loved me. Within moments, the relief of learning how much the universe cares about people reduced me to wordless weeping, much to the dismay of those present. As outlined elsewhere on this site, my childhood included maternal suicide and sadistic abuse at the hands of my stepmother. Until those moments in the AA meeting, love never felt real or trustworthy to me. Never before had it seemed like my welfare mattered much to anyone, and suddenly a force as powerful and vast as creation held me in its palm and said, “you are precious to me.” The words were not audible like speech, but they rang through my awareness like a bell on an open plain. A group of alarmed alcoholics huddled around me for several minutes as I crouched near the floor awash in tears. They thought something awful was wrong, but nothing had ever felt so right.

That the universe loved me, and everyone, seemed like the most obvious fact in the world. How could it have been missed for so long? It was as if my entire life had been lived in darkened rooms, and suddenly the curtains were opened to reveal the sun. The events of those days taught me that even though it remains unseen, God’s affection is as real as the air we breath, invisible but sustaining us every minute. It’s a lesson that is easy to forget or discount. But if you want to believe that what I experienced holds truth, then rest assured there is as much love in this universe as there is space and time.

“Wait a minute! It was just a spasm of brain cells!” the atheist in me says. He chalks it up to “an abnormal release of neurotransmitters; maybe a flood of dopamine in my nucleus accumbens. It was a psychosis brought on by acute distress, and aided by changes in psychiatric medications. Nothing but an emotional hallucination.”

Should that skeptical voice be handed the reins? Is it be better to be ‘realistic’, and believe the universe has no heart? Or does the wise person suspend judgment, and accept love?

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