On Spirituality
A Guest Topic
Author’s note: This topic was chosen by Jason Abrams, the winner of my last Substack subscriber drive raffle. Check out his debut feature film, Hungry Dog Blues, which comes out TODAY! He wrote, directed, and starred in it and it is wonderful.
I’m certainly not someone you would, could, or should call religious. For the most part, I think that modern-day organized religions do more harm than good: they divide us more than bring us together. The thing about this stance is that a lot of people think it means I scoff at anyone who has faith, and that I disagree with anyone who embraces their spirituality. This couldn’t be farther from the truth. I think that those are two of the most beautiful parts of being human and should be nurtured and embraced.
To me, faith and spirituality are both purely good concepts. They represent the most humble parts of being sentient: despite the fact that we’re at the top of nearly every food chain (as far as I know polar bears still hunt humans so they’re still top of the pops), despite the fact that we’ve subdued nature in ways that allow us to live in the desert, and tundra, and miles above sea level (all while enjoying central air, heating, and blazing fast internet), and despite the fact that modern medicine has given us the opportunity to live lives longer and healthier than any other animals (except those pesky turtles who just keep trucking along), faith and spirituality both depend on the belief that we are small and rather insignificant.
It can be so easy to lose perspective on the bigger picture in our day-to-day lives. Whether you’re feeling on top of the world because your fantasy baseball team kicked ass yesterday or down the in the dumps because your McDonald’s drive-through order was completely wrong and the fries weren’t even fresh…everything feels so consequential. Faith and spirituality can show you how, good or bad, most things in your life aren’t as big of a deal as they seem. This perspective can be absolutely massive when you’re obsessing over a presentation at 4 in the morning and you feel like it’s life or death. It can equally keep you humble when you’re lapping up praise and mulling over your next promotion after you absolutely crush that presentation.
The idea that there’s something or someone bigger than you out there (or up there, or down there, or wherever) is one that I really enjoy. The concept that there’s someone or something looking out for you, helping you dodge bullets and make the right decisions, or even that there’s a predetermined plan and we’re all just along for the ride is pretty comforting.
I still don’t really know if I believe it, though. To me, it seems much more likely that this is just all there is and we look for meaning and higher powers as a way to feel not-so-insignificant. I find myself embracing the randomness of life more than looking for deeper meaning in every success and failure. Sometimes there isn’t a deeper meaning or a plan, sometimes you gave your best presentation and the person listening just had a bad morning and was ready to hate whatever you put in front of them…or maybe it’s a door closing and a window opening? Who’s really to say?
Are you a spiritual person? What’s your level of faith? Organized or free-form like jazz? Did any of this make sense? Are you going to watch Hungry Dog Blues? You should!
Like you, I'm not a big fan of organized religion - weird, isn't it? That you, who grew up in the same house I did, sharing meals, bedtime stories, catches in the backyard or on the front lawn, should end up having the same spiritual values I do. Anyhoo, yes, some higher power, anthropomorphic or not; I'd like to believe it, but I choose to attempt to live my life as if the answer was a definite yes, not for some reward in a hypothetical afterlife but because I want to live in a world where kindness, empathy, decency, charity, are the predominant human traits. One of the things I do like about Judaism, the religion I was born into, and the one Hitler and the Proud Boys would consider me irrevocably attached to, is that it doesn't talk much about an afterlife. You're supposed to do the right thing here and now to make life better for your fellow human. And by extension, for you. And then, if after you kick the bucket you do get a pat on the back from some elderly bearded guy with a voice like Morgan Freeman, or some twinkly grandmother with a Betty White vibe, hey, that'll just be gravy!
I needed this today. Thanks for embracing my weird topic and my weird movie. I think you’re right, it is pretty much all random, but then sometimes the stars align and you make a friend and that friend writes essays and years later there’s one for you that says exactly what you need to hear. And it doesn’t make you feel small but big. big, because in all the randomness of a life there’s someone who cares for you and you’re grateful for whatever forces brought them into your life.