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.

PaddleTowardLight

The past two entries launched discussion of the second of my ‘Keys to Faith:’ The Experience of God is Real.

Everyone knows that many people—well over half according to some studies—enjoy what seem like mystical experiences. Many feel the nearby presence of a God-like entity, and even more gain sudden awareness of universal love, cosmic unity, and the ‘rightness’ of creation. Peak moment stories are easy to find. So in planning the spiritual series on this blog, it did not seem necessary to give specific examples of mystical moments, my own or anyone else’s. It seemed safe to take as given the fact that people often feel touched by God.

As already emphasized, religious experiences do not prove the existence of mystical forces, much less God. On the other hand, it is impossible to disprove the strong impression epiphanies give of being influenced by supernatural currents. Besides, even if peak experiences arise from nothing more than neural fluctuations, they say a great deal about the nature of the human mind and its need for faith. These statements demand elaboration, and the initial plan had been to head straight into exploring them. But then a reader and fellow blogger‘s comment prompted me to discuss one of my personal peak moments. For reasons that were at first unclear, writing about a breakthrough left me feeling unusually contented. So the next post went a little further in the same direction. After that, my mood lifted, faith became easy, and the future looked brighter. Wow! And it’s not hypomania, in case anyone wonders; I can tell. It feels like a combination of humble acceptance of what ordinarily drives me nuts, and serene confidence in my ability to weather whatever comes. Time will tell, of course, but my current state feels supported by a solid spiritual foundation, rather than the usual shifting emotional winds.

After some sixteen-thousand words devoted to rational justifications for faith, the act of writing only a few paragraphs about my breakthroughs brought me to the endpoint: convinced spirituality. Discussing the events required me to relive them, and reliving brought their impact back into my consciousness. As a result, I once again know that the universe is loving, cohesive, and on-track.

Predictably, my rational mind stepped in and started arguing with these feelings. How can the universe be on-track when the world is in such dire straits? What evidence is there for any love surrounding me, or that the warmth and peace that fill me have any source outside my own personality? And sure, the idea that everything is connected makes sense, but does it have any bearing on my past and future, or my regrets and fears? So there is still need for my effort to establish ways to overcome rational objections to faith. If nothing else, it will help me stay connected with my rediscovered spiritual core. (My fervent hope, of course, is that it will help others, too.)

In contrast to my initial plan, it now feels ‘right’ to describe my spiritual experiences. Even after ten years, they awaken joy in my heart, and make me want to ‘spread the word’. That seems like a natural response given the surprising transformative power of my experiences. I’ve mentioned before that my father raised me as an atheist; if memory serves me there was no time during my upbringing when the idea of God seemed like anything more than myth. So faith was not ingrained in my outlook, and this is not a case of a person reconnecting with childhood beliefs. Admittedly, in 1987 Alcoholics Anonymous convinced me that recovery from addictions depends on building a spiritual foundation for life. But until my epiphanies ten years ago, I made little progress in actually constructing one. After my visions in 2000, I enjoyed several years of pretty strong faith. But then skepticism crept in, and I returned to my baseline atheism. The past several days of writing about my peak moments has restored my beliefs. If mere memories of unusual feelings, sights, and human interactions from ten years ago can so alter my outlook, maybe they will bring a measure of uplift to others.

Given that 1) writing about my breakthroughs graces me with faith; 2) the descriptions may enlighten others; and 3) more than one person has expressed interest, it seems reasonable to spend a few more posts writing about what happened.

I’ll end this entry by offering some context for what’s coming. The peak moments to be described (and those already presented) happened within a few weeks after March 19, 2000, and mostly within 72 hours. I had been discharged from my first psychiatric hospitalization five days earlier. The psychiatrist sent me home with a powerful new antidepressant, and a prescription for a valium-like drug that had been given to me around-the-clock during my stay. As a dutiful recovering alcoholic, I promptly threw out the sedative after leaving the hospital. So as of March 19 my system was adjusting to a new antidepressant, and withdrawing from a potent tranquilizer. Both factors promote mania in people with bipolar disorder. No doubt these chemical influences played into the psychosis/religious ecstasy that followed. But that does not alter the fact that the resulting experiences opened a lifelong atheist to belief in spiritual forces.

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

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