In recent years, mindfulness practice has become one of the
most important aspects of my life, of my efforts to maintain and improve my
mental and physical wellbeing the best I can. Naturally this has led me to be a
more spiritual person; I love the feeling of being more connected to myself,
the world, life, and the people around me. The simple act of purposefully
taking notice of my thoughts, feelings and actions is immensely therapeutic in
many ways, and I am thankful that mindfulness has become, for me, one of the
best tools for managing the stresses and strains of daily life.
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| Spirituality comes in all sorts of forms |
Spirituality is sometimes confused with religiosity, but
whilst having a faith constitutes a form of spirituality – which is about
feeling connected to something beyond oneself – the concept spans much wider
than religion. For some it comes in the form of feeling more attuned to one's own
mind and body, for others it is brought about by the experience of overwhelming natural beauty, for others it might be as simple as connecting with those
around them through a shared hobby or interest. Either way, this sense of
connectedness to something or someone is one of the keys to wellbeing, bringing
joy to our lives and offering a coping mechanism during times of hardship.
Given the overlap between the two, it’s easy to see why
spirituality and religion are sometimes thought of as synonymous. Although I can
see the difference between the two clearly, I find it fascinating to consider
the parallels between them, which have become apparent to me through various
routes in recent times.
The first was last Christmas when I had what has become my
annual catch up with a friend from school. It would make sense to note at this
point that I myself am not religious; this particular friend, on the other
hand, is devoutly Christian. She doesn’t preach or judge in any way toward
non-Christians (which I am thankful for as I have very little time for that
type of religiosity!), and is very open to discussion, questioning and debate
about her faith. This led to a very interesting conversation about the
similarities between her religiosity and my spirituality.
My friend had spent some time telling me about a large
Christian conference / convention she had attended, one element of which was a
workshop related to dealing with emotions. This was not the sort of thing she
would usually partake in, but thought she’d give it a go, and found it a very
powerful experience that generated some epiphany-like self-insights. She talked
of how the prescribed activity involved thinking on a particular issue and
silently asking God for answers; simply allowing these answers to present
themselves in their own time.
I was struck by how immensely similar this was to an
experience I’d had in my mindfulness practice: during a day retreat, I partook
in a guided meditation involving inner inquiry about self-compassion, which
lead to a poignant moment of insight that kick-started a powerful healing
process around something that had troubled me for years.
For both myself and my friend, important personal insights
were found by sitting quietly, focussing one’s attention on a specific issue
and allowing whatever presented itself to be. I am fascinated by how the psychological
process seems to be pretty much the same; the difference was in whether one’s
energy was being directed toward God or toward self.
The other arena in which I’ve found congruency with
Christianity is music: despite not connecting with the religiosity of the
lyrics, it just so happens that quite a lot of Christian music is right up my
street. Of course, not all songs from all Christian artists are about religion,
but even when they are I enjoy seeing the alternative meaning in the lyrics.
Indeed, this is one of the things I love about music in general; the way in
which a song can tell a story and that each of us might relate to that story a
little differently based on our own experiences.
One such album I have been enjoying immensely of late is
Philippa Hanna’s Speed of Light. My
favourite song from this album is the wonderfully uplifting and anthemic Let
You Lead, through which Philippa seems to express her faith in God to take her
safely through life’s course, and how she holds such faith no matter what
happens. Despite my non-religious nature, I can really draw parallels with
these sentiments from my own standpoint of mindfulness practice (which of
course has its roots in the religion of Bhuddism, but has come to Western
culture in secular forms).
“I like a straight
line, without a left turn
But I keep on finding,
that’s not how life works
…
I see one moment
And you see forever”
In religion, one has faith that God is implementing a
lifelong plan; thus one can better accept what is happening right now even if
it doesn’t feel good, safe in the knowledge that its all part of this bigger
story that’s unfurling. Similarly, mindfulness teaches us to accept the present
moment however it is, with one of its mantras being “this too will pass”,
enabling us to recognise that everything is transient.
Hindsight is always
20/20
With every dark twist,
you never left me
Forever faithful, no
matter what I go through
Why would that change
now?
I’m gonna trust you
I put one hand on your
shoulder
Feel my faith grow
bolder
Don’t have to know,
don’t have to see
I’m just gonna let you
lead
I like the allusion to life unfolding in mysterious ways, something
I have experienced often over the years. How often have you been able to see
the value in a difficult experience only after it’s happened? Or seen in
hindsight that when it appeared a door was closing it was simply giving you
space to find another door that led to a more delightful room? Whilst one
person might see this as God working his magic others might see it as life itself
just doing its thing. My own feelings ae really echoed in the religious notes
of these lyrics, and I am fascinated by how two experiences can be so similar
yet so different at the same time.
I suppose this highlights how very similar
we all are as human beings: we may
differ in religion and culture, but human nature is human nature regardless of
these features. Whether one comes at it from a religious or secular
perspective, accepting life’s ups and downs as they are, and not fighting
against them too much, is a powerful coping mechanism.
Of course, this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take action to
change things when there is a need: there will always be a balance to strike
between this and acceptance of that over which we do not have control (as a
hint, nothing outside of ‘your own actions right now’ fall into this circle of
control). Sensing that we don’t always need to know what’s going to happen
next, that the present moment, just as it is, might be enough, can be a
wonderfully powerful way to feel more at ease with life. I find that beyond
offering comfort, this mindset can be is really life-enriching, encouraging us
to live for the moment. For me this approach to life comes from mindfulness,
for others it comes from trusting in the power of God, for others there will no
doubt be a whole host of other influences. Either way, allowing ourselves to
enjoy our moment-to-moment experience and ‘letting life lead’ from time to time
feels like a great way to live.
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