The universe giggled back...

Are we hardwired for God?  Is a belief in a greater power or something larger than ourselves slotted into our programming? I found out the other day that apparently there's now a name for the study of religious experience – neurotheology.  There’s a name for everything nowadays. 

When we’re young we easily believe in the mystical.  I knew there were fairies that lived in the wall; I equally knew there was something Very Bad at the very end of the garden.  Bad things stalked me in my sleep – and nothing much stopped them.  Bad things lurked under my bed but these I kept at bay by pulling the sheet tight over my head, leaving only the tiniest of airways.  Funny, isn’t it, how such vicious monsters are so easily deterred by a thin piece of fabric? 

I used to say a series of prayers every night, fervent prayers.  It was a ritual.  I believed that if I missed anyone out of my ‘God bless’ prayer, they would die.  Now I come to think of it, that was pretty megalomaniac.  Did I really think God would punish the poor sap for my lapse in concentration?  Or maybe I quietly believed in myself as God? 

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When I was seventeen or eighteen, I took acid by mistake.  A spiked drink at a bad party.  I walked home alone, upset, my mind moiling.  And then my vision warped. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t judge distance. I needed to cross a road and yet, when I looked down, it felt like I was on the top of a cliff and the road was several miles below me.  When I got home my grandmother greeted me and her face kept changing – but was mainly pretty lizard-like.  I think I’ve told you this before but never mind. You've probably forgotten.  Our minds can create anything.  It was a shame it happened that way – other people report feelings of oneness, of togetherness, of love – of experiencing the unity of the entire planet, universe, all that is. 

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But then I’ve had those experiences too – without drugs.  Through combinations of fasting, meditation, sensory deprivation and sometimes just pure serendipity.  It’s nothing new – people have been crawling into caves or hanging out in deserts for millennia in attempts to see ‘for real’. 

And the neurotheologists think there’s a reason for that.  They think that we need God.  Or rather, we need some kind of spiritual belief – to keep us balanced.  To stop us falling into total despond.  To stop us giving up out of sheer bloody pointlessness. We like to think there is meaning.  It comforts us.  And you have to wonder.  Without the God urge, do we become biological beings only?  Our purpose purely to grow to maturity, mate and hang around long enough to set our offspring on their feet?  And, if so, well... so what?

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I guess you might argue though that atheists could be an aberration. They could have a vital bit missing. Or, here’s a thought, maybe they’re the evolution. But then you have to wonder why? What use does lack of belief have for the species as a whole?  Maybe it’s because religion is divisive, so corrosive?  The psychologist Susan Blackmore said, ‘I am not just an atheist; I believe that belief in God is both wrong and directly harmful.’ And yet…she goes on to say this. ‘On the other hand, I am convinced that experience with the mystical can be positive, valuable, and provide insight.  There are mystical states in which you see the world as a whole and experience yourself as a fully integrated part of everything that is. It can be a very positive experience that leads to less selfish behaviour and greater personal satisfaction. I wish more people were capable of experiencing that sort of experience without thereby encouraging traditional religion.’

But then isn’t she just redefining the meaning of God? 

Anyhow. Where was I? Where am I going? Not a clue. There'a whole load more but I'll spare you.  It's just that  lately, more than usual, I’ve been wondering about all this meaning I put on things. All the synchronicity, the magic, the serendipity, the out of the blueness…isn’t it all just…wishful thinking?  Isn’t it really all just random…meaningless…just my mind putting some kind of gloss on it to make living less painful? 

So the SP and I went for a walk…up the hill, into the woods and then down by the river.  And the birds were singing and the wild garlic was starting to push up through the dark brown earth.  And I thought, hell, what does it really matter?  Nobody can know. Not really.  All we can do, really, is just be, here and now, in each moment as it unfolds into the next.  So what if there’s no meaning.  And I put my headphones on and clicked ‘Shuffle’ and my iPod giggled and played…

 

And the universe giggled back.  J 

Why is life so difficult?

Why is life so difficult?  Or rather, why do we make life so difficult for ourselves?  Sometimes it feels like I’m pushing against a vast weight; that I’m like Sisyphus, poor soul, with his shoulder to the boulder.  Okay, so I haven't slept again, and I feel pretty ill and the dreadlines are crashing and the vultures are circling but still...

Maybe I need a different perspective.  We fall into habits, into routine; we have rat-runs. We run in circles, always the same way.  Sometimes, perhaps, we need to reverse the route.  It dawned on me, as I took the SP for his morning walk, that I have never walked up The Chimney, the steep path to the hill-fort (place of strength?).  I have slid down it, many times, but I have never clambered up.  So…

It was beautiful. Filled with flowers.  Not so hard really at all.  Easy, even.  Everything looks different when you go the other way, when you reverse the polarity.  But you still have to be careful.  Once you reach the top the path is indeed easy and even, deceptively so. A straight track through the woods.  Yet roots stretch and, if you don’t keep your eyes on your feet, they will trip you up. 

I used to write about this a lot.  Used to advise people to shift their routines, to try different things, to make shifts, even tiny ones… Does everything always have to be the same? No.  If you do the same workout, the same job, the same anything, you will hit a stagnation point.  Every smart trainer, businessperson, whatever knows you have to shift things around, to throw the occasional spanner in the works.  Do I follow my own advice? Shit no.  Things need to change.

I came down from the fort and reached the vantage point where you can look right out over the valley, past the river and see this small town stretched out in front of you.  I had to refocus my eyes to pick out our house, way over on the other side, up on the hill – a long way away as the path winds.  Ah, but...I had this sudden flash that I could fly there in an instant. Oh, how I wish I could.  Now that would be a change indeed.  Instead I walked back slowly through town, people waving, cars tooting.  Just like always. 

But, funny thing, seems my neighbour, the vicar, has been thinking the same sort of thing.  ‘If you’re a slave to routine, you become anxious when you have to change,’ he said.   True.  ‘But God doesn’t like repeating things,’ he went on.  ‘Since we’re made in God’s image, maybe we should think about how we can find fresh ways of doing things.’  Right on, John.

And, when I came back I found the postman had delivered (out of the blue) three CDs by Art Giser who does something called Energetic NLP – check out his site here.  ‘Are you running your own life?' he said (accusingly, or so I heard it).  Ummm.  'Clear programming and energy to identify your own authentic goals’…’avoid negative energy’…’excuses obliterator’ (ho ho)….’increase your prosperity’… 

Hmm, which to try first?  Then an email pinged in from my accountant which answered that question pretty quickly.  I'll let you know how I get on. 

 

better hope he leaves the boulder behind, eh?

But enough about me; what about you? Do you always do the same stuff all the time?  Does it feel as if nothing ever changes?  Do you feel comforted by routine, or stifled by it? Sometimes it’s hard even to tell until you try shifting.
Maybe today try doing just one thing differently… it could kick off an entire chain reaction.  One of these days, even Sisyphus might think, ‘sod it’, let go of his boulder and book a cruise.

Music? Alela Diane today...