Dear all, (and specifically Dad,)
This post isn’t really about anything I’m doing here; rather, it’s an elongated response to my Dad’s comment on my last post, which you can go look at if you want the context. I started out just typing it as a comment/response, but then my blog wouldn’t let me post it like that because it’s too big, and I figured I spent enough time on it to make it a bona fide post on its own. So, thanks Dad, for giving me a springboard for this post. Just a warning -- this one is very very long...I kind of started typing and never stopped.
Thank you so much for your comments. I really appreciate that you take the time to respond to the things I’m writing on here, this is the kind of thing I love discussing. Don't worry about sounding "pedantic," I appreciate the responses, and I hope for more just like it. I have my own opinions on some of what you said, and while I agree with most of it, I think we differ on a couple of points, which I hope it’s alright if I elaborate on here. And I don't think I'm definitely right on any of it, it's just how I'm thinking about things at the moment.
First off, I don't think you need to be completely immersed in something for it to be the "way to go" for someone – I think at a certain point, one needs to learn what makes sense rationally and what does not, and make clear-headed decisions on it all. I’m not “immersed,” (at least not in terms of what I’ve chosen to take on,) but so far, I've found that there's barely anything I've learned here that is actually irrational, (Judaism being extremely committed to rationality in terms of its commitment to logic and use of the mind,) so in the end, when I make a choice to not do something that makes sense to me, that is my personal decision to hoist my own emotional state above my rational one. That's happened a few times already, but at least I know that I'm trying to grow to a point where I can use my mind to make decisions, rather than only my heart. Sometimes your heart can be wrong...at least, mine can be, and certainly has been before, and will be again. Something can feel totally right, but in the end, it is actually the wrong thing, and visa versa as well, which I think is exactly what you were saying at the end of your comment. (obviously there is a ton out there to learn, in anything in life, and of course I will come across things that don’t make sense to me, and on those specific things I will need to decide whether to do them anyway – a decision I am not prone to making).
The warm puppy theory sounds nice, and I do agree with it in a sense, but since it has gotten me and others into trouble before, I'm kind of liking the idea of going with my mind over all else right now, or at least trying to do that. Sometimes the answer doesn’t feel so "warm puppy," but in the end, it ends up being right. Right can't always feel good after all, at least not at first. I agree that I should do things that make me and those I care about happy. But there are two problems one can run into with this philosophy:
First, happiness is a difficult thing to define. I’ve learned to see it more as a means, rather than an end -- I want to act in happiness, towards other goals, rather than pursue it as the sole object of my actions. (the idea of the “pursuit of happiness” can actually be kind of depressing...if all of life is about pursuing happiness, then what happens if and when we actually get there? We’re done? Just live life, no more growth? I see it more as the pursuit of self-actualization, the pursuit of meaning, the pursuit of reality and growth, using happiness as a tool. That way, happiness will always be with me, but I will not be floundering about looking for what my next goal should be once I feel like I’m “happy” – I’ll use that to keep going.) Something might feel good at the moment, or in the short term, but is that happiness? I think real happiness is involved when you work towards the things that will make you and others ultimately happy, in the long term, and in a real way, rather than just following what feels good from day to day. (example: I've started to keep shabbat again, and while it is at times difficult because I've gotten used to certain things over the years, in the end, I know that it makes me happy in a real sense -- in this moment I might miss TV on a Friday night, but overall, I feel more complete, more connected, and more me when I overcome those things, in order to spend real time with friends and family, and even just thinking clearly for a few hours. (as well as the fact that it makes rational sense to me at this point, which I think has always been the missing piece for me in Judaism -- I've always lacked that understanding that there can be logical rational answers to things, rather than some wishy washy "spirituality" that I just didn't understand or have. Now that I can learn things that make real sense to me, I can make it my own, and I can then take the liberties with it that I otherwise would not have been able to do, when I used to consider it straight-up dogma).
The second problem that might lie in the idea of trying to make myself others around me happy is that feelings change. People change, lives change, situations change. I want to have a set of principles, actions, ideas, that are correct, not just apropos for each situation. Of course I have to be flexible, and I have to know how to react to new and different situations. But in terms of my own personal choices, I want to be able to differentiate between those things that I am doing because I am going with the flow, and trying to make myself or others feel “warm,” and those that I care enough about that they become part of me, they become definite, in almost any situation. (I say almost because obviously there are always exceptions.) So, yes, I want to make myself and others happy. But in the end, happiness is something quite elusive and that I see as being a means rather than an end, and also, I want to be able to know what I really believe is right, and the most beneficial for myself and others, sometimes even regardless of certain particulars and current emotions. The warm puppy philosophy works perfectly, as long as it is a pursuit of truth, or true warmth, rather than a feeling of warmth that can easily dissipate. (I don’t think we disagree here, I just wanted to clarify.)
Now to respond to your comment on spirituality, which is something I’ve been grappling with for a while. You said: “Spirituality comes in when our minds attempt to make some sense of it all. Since our perception is the only reality, invoking a spirit here and there makes it much more palatable. It then easily follows to elevate otherwise minuscule and meaningless human beings to the center of the world. After all, why not?”
I’m not going to pretend to know where spirituality comes from in general, but I can say that for me, what you said is not entirely the case. The only times I’ve felt spirituality are: a) when I’m being swept up by emotional things like singing, dancing, love, connecting to others (the irrational side of it, I’d say, which I find enjoyable at times, but downright dangerous and intimidating and reason for worry at others. While they can make me feel good, I never want to end up making decisions based on those moments. I think people who do that are actually surrendering their higher faculties and abilities, and making a mockery of the incredible capacity we have for logical thinking and deduction. I can understand why people would seek comfort in this kind of thing, but in the end, it can end up becoming more like an addiction to mind-altering substances, rather than an actual experience of meaning and reality.) This feeling is often fleeting, lasts for the extent of the song or dance or moment, and then disappears. Or, b) when I learn something that is so incredibly true to me, that works, that makes sense, logically, emotionally, factually, entirely. Basically, when something comes together in a way that makes every aspect of it completely clear and real, like the feeling of completing a thousand-piece puzzle, with a gorgeous picture on it that didn’t make sense until the very last piece was placed. (I feel this way often when I learn Rambam – his rationality to the point of scientifically picking apart every aspect of life is astounding, and I really enjoy learning things that are analytical like that. I’m not really into the stuff that’s just romantic and flighty – like I said, that stuff worries me.) Those moments feel incredibly “spiritual” to me, or at least I think that’s what it’s called when my whole body and “soul,” or reality, or self, whatever you want to call it, swells in happiness and appreciation of the moment. This kind of “spirituality” lasts much longer, for me – sometimes it never goes away. It is much more real, strong, and tangible than the first type, which is really just a warm feeling rather than a real result.
This second form of “spiritual” experience sounds a lot more like your statement that spirituality comes in when our minds attempt to make some sense of it all, but I think I mean it in a different way. You went on to say that invoking a spirit here and there makes reality more palatable, which actually sounds a bit patronizing, since it assumes that people kind of create certain ideas in their minds to make themselves feel better about reality. That hasn’t been my experience at all, nor is it of those who I’ve spoken to on the matter. (I’m sure it is the case for many people out there, but certainly much less so in circles where they put such a high premium on studying, learning, picking apart every little detail so that the whole can make sense only as a sum of its individually rational parts). Rather, spirituality for me comes strongest when I am feeling the most rational, and the most in tune to reality, even though we can perceive so little of it. I don’t invoke spirits....neither do most thinking people, I hope. I invoke my mind, and my heart sometimes. But I always do my best to base it in the real, because once I start making things up to make things more palatable, I leave myself vulnerable to disillusionment, which will surely come for any thinking person who tries to do that.
It does not, then, “easily follow” to elevate human beings to the center of the world. At least not for me, it doesn’t. Nothing can “easily” follow anything, unless it can be logically deduced from it. If not, then it is not easily following from it; it’s wishfully following from it. I think that believing humans are the purpose of creation often follows from a belief in G-d, because all signs in the world seem to point that way, once you have accepted that there is a design in the world. I’m not gonna debate that here, it’s obviously a waaaay bigger question, and eventually I’ll post about things like that, but for now, I just wanted to object to the idea that the reason people come to believe that humans are the center of the world is through their invocation of spirits in order to make themselves feel better about reality. I think it’s much more than that. You can argue that belief in G-d itself is incorrect, a point that could be argued until the end of time. But it is not illogical, and therefor it is not illogical to think that humans could be the point of creation, and such an idea does not have to stem from a desire to make reality palatable – it can be logically deduced.
One last thing on the subject of rationality/spirituality, (which I find incredibly fascinating, so I’ll probably end up writing a lot more on it). Over the summer, Ez and I took a great class called “the logic of faith”, and we learned that in Judaism, there is no such thing as “faith” – that word doesn’t even exist in the Hebrew language, which is a good way to know whether a concept exists in a society or not. There is such a high commitment to logic, that to have “faith” (which by definition is not based on reason,) is considered sacrilegious. Rather, there is a concept called “emunah,” which is often mistranslated to mean “faith”. It actually means “faithfulness” (a definition proven by multiple contextual uses in the Torah, where “faith” would not make any sense at all, such as Moses’ hands being faithful to their task). So, the point is that we are supposed to first find truth, by using our brains and thinking logically always and looking at the facts we have before us, and only then are we supposed to have emunah, or faithfulness, to the truth that we have found. This is because often, truth can get hidden and confused behind other things, but once we have seen it clearly, with total presence of mind, we are supposed to be faithful to that, rather than let our emotions take over. So, really, the concept of having faith in spirits or something without logical reasoning behind it, is something totally foreign to Judaism, and we are supposed to try very hard to steer clear of that kind of thinking. (Anyone interested in the notes from this class, let me know. It was incredible. Ask Ezra, he’ll back me up. Also, see Akiva Tatz’s books for more elaboration on these concepts, which is where I learned some of it as well, such as Living Inspired, and Letters to a Buddhist Jew).
K im getting repetitive. Anyway sorry this is long, I just find this stuff pretty fascinating, and I love discussing it with anyone who will listen. (ie the whole internet! Yay!) In the end, what we’ve said doesn’t differ too much – I believe that making myself and others happy is the most important thing, I just wanted to go a bit deeper into what that means for me. It’s not really a warm puppy in the end, to me. Puppies turn into dogs, and they’re not always so warm and nice. It’s more like a warm....everythingness. A warmth that really is warm, not just that makes us feel warm. If that makes sense. :) And as for spirituality, my main point is that I don’t invoke spirits...except for one time when I scared Keri and Blake (especially Blake) by making them think their late great Aunt was talking to them through a Ouija board. (Sorry, guys!) :)
Love, Shira
PS update on life: I made pasta last night. And all is well.
