Today’s musing was prompted by a reader’s comment, which started me toying with the difference between emotional and rational judgments.

You might expect me to dismiss the former as undesirable and the latter as the mature choice, but that’s not my take on these evaluative methods. As has become my wont of late, I believe a sensible approach requires that we see the advantages and disadvantages of all possible styles.

Emotional reasoning gets a bad reputation because it is viewed as primitive and impulsive. There is truth to this appraisal, but mitigating factors are at play. For instance, if you are on a date with someone you might want to make part of your life over the long run, you would be foolish not to consult your emotional reactions. And if someone approaches you at night and you feel threatened, it would be a mistake to override your emotional unease and drop your guard.

On the other hand, emotions can be so intense and rapid as to overwhelm caution, leading to impulsive and possibly destructive behavior. Obviously in these cases emotional reasoning can be problematic. On a more subtle level, we may jump to conclusions because of unconscious memories or high sensitivity, and so unfairly judge the intentions of others.

Rational, cognitive reasoning usually gets portrayed as the peak of human achievement. Cool, detached evaluation avoids all the messy drama of strong feelings and leads to sensible, sober action. But this picture of mental detachment is both an illusion and a misrepresentation. It’s an illusion because even the most well-reasoned evaluation is colored by unconscious and emotional influences. It’s a misrepresentation because logical decisions are not the same as wise decisions. Think of how clueless Star Trek’s Mr. Spock seemed whenever he offered his take on human interactions. Rational detachment is often more detached than truly rational. All kinds of confused dysfunction can march under the banner of cool logic.

In fact, there is no separating the two styles. Emotions are influenced by thought (isn’t that the entire basis of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy?) At the same time, thoughts are colored by emotion (as made obvious by many of the viewpoints expressed about Bin Laden’s death). There is a continual interplay between the limbic wellspring of emotion and the cortical factory of verbal thought.

Despite this interaction, it is not that hard to distinguish between the effects of emotion and reason on our judgments. To understand emotional judgment it helps to look at the sense of smell. We don’t choose our take on odors. If we walk into a room and smell roses, the immediate reaction we experience is a product of whatever roses have meant in the past. If they remind us of our first love, we might feel a frisson of erotic excitement. If they remind us of our mother’s funeral, they may spur a sinking emptiness in the gut. Either way, we have no choice in the matter. Our reaction just happens.

Rational judgments, in contrast, are much more volitional. We may feel a briefly shattering grief after smelling the roses that remind us of our mom’s dying, but we can mitigate the intensity of sadness by bringing to mind her reassuring last words for us, or how she suffered from a terminal disease and so welcomed death as a relief. The memory then takes on a bitter-sweet character and feels less tragic. Now a gentle fullness flows through us and the aching emptiness abates. No matter what emotional reaction comes first, our thoughts can step in and alter the tenor of our evaluation.

The shift can move in a more negative direction, of course. If someone cuts into our lane on the freeway, we feel a pulse of frustration. If we mentally curse the offender and imagine running him off the road, we heighten our anger. Our delayed thoughts then fuel, rather than calm, the initial emotional fire.

The best approach is to remain awake to our emotions, and conscious of our inner dialogue. If we accomplish this we will feel the immediate reaction clearly as a first step, then choose how to talk to ourselves as a second. In this way we will reap the benefits of emotional reasoning, which integrates a lifetime of experience in order to arrive at a quick summary judgment. We will also make use of rational thought, which can correct the perceptual errors and unfounded conclusions that so plague emotional processes.

By balancing emotion and reason, we will learn to use passion to make decisions that have heart, while training the mind to make sure our choices are also wise.

In light of my recent awakening the mystical seems thoroughly mixed with the mundane. Even ‘secular’ mental health topics now lead me beneath the paving stones of structured thought. It has become obvious that everything ordinary is a bit magical, and everything magical is a bit ordinary. There is something beyond understanding in the simple fall of a raindrop, while the prosaic rhythm of our hearts paces the most profound religious moments.

‘Magic’, as used here, refers to things the logical mind discounts. These include connections that can’t be proven, wisdom without worldly value, and love as a guiding principle. It helps to embrace such things if we seek faith, but we do not need to invoke blatantly supernatural forces. My awakening demonstrated that spiritual connection does not require belief in phenomena that violate the normal patterns of events. And for the record, ‘spiritual connection’ can be coarsely described as awareness that the self is small, and that the universe is meaningful and alive with interdependence.

There are countless paths that lead to openness. Many find faith in a supreme deity, but those without such beliefs can still experience deep and universal connections. (Note that faith is available without theistic convictions, but this by no means rules out a creative, omniscient God.) Traditional Buddhism relies on the expectation of reincarnation; commitment to escaping the cycle of rebirth motivates the entire practice. But meaningful peace can be achieved without these tenets, whether reincarnation occurs or not. In fact, no specific set of beliefs is essential to feeling supported by the currents of mystery.

My uncompleted series of spiritual essays were put forward to counter (seemingly) rational obstructions to feeling connected with deep forces. Fervent materialists, for instance, base their views on narrow interpretations of scientific findings. A broader look at established facts can undermine such arguments. The series’ goal was to counteract resistance caused by rigid and false reasoning.

After writing out ideas that had been accumulating for years, I awakened to some simple but profound truths. If our egos did not keep us in blinders, I realized, we would better appreciate the magic of life. We would know that we live in the midst of a blossoming miracle. We would feel how matter, energy, and consciousness evolve and intertwine all around us. At first, this direct experience made me think my rational arguments had been superfluous and unnecessary. Why even bother with the ego’s petty objections, when the truth is so elegant and apparent?

Then my transcendent awareness receded. Although vivid memories remain, direct experience is elusive. This proves what spiritual pilgrims have always found: discrete ecstatic moments, while valuable, are not enough. One must make ongoing efforts to remain open. In Achieving Enlightenment the Dalai Lama talks of two types of meditation. In the ‘analytical’ kind, one uses reason to explore truth, which then informs meditations that set thought aside. So using the mind to investigate the validity, source and meanings of faith might actually be a useful practice. Combined with quiet sitting and altruistic efforts, it might help a person (like me) stay spiritually centered. So why not continue the series?

A new motivation to proceed with my spiritual project is also apparent. After my recent awakening, depression that had tormented me for decades lost power. My heart remains at peace, even though I continue to feel bodily sadness, ancient grief, and shadows of trauma. Moods still ebb and flow, and dark clouds still roll across my mental landscape, but my core feels safe because of faith. In essence, by breaking down my ego, and embracing deeper realities, my soul attained abiding serenity.

Importantly, my soul-shaking experience arose without belief in anything blatantly supernatural. No supreme deity, no reincarnation, no disembodied spirits. (Again, I am not saying any religious principles are wrong; only that they are unnecessary to effective faith.) Rational ideas about creation, and looking at my situation with clarity and perspective, opened me to a wordless experience of cosmic unity.

The significance cannot be overstated. Faith that arose alongside a strict belief in science led to mental health. Psychotherapy (including CBT and ACT), 12-step programs, and self-help books helped get me ready to change. But experiential faith, based on logically supportable thought provided wings that lifted me away from the gravity of my suffering. Since others might find peace along this path, my story must be told.

Growth might have been easier within an established religion. But an atheist upbringing and years of scientific training blocked me from becoming a convinced Christian, Buddhist, or anything else. Those traditions and others informed me, but left me short of my goal. Do many besides me desire faith, but feel blocked by rational objections? It’s hard to say. And whether my ideas will help is also unknown. But the same feeling of connection that shook me awake prompts me to resume the series.