Journal of a Soul 47

The Validity of Experience 2

1. Psychology and Psychotherapy: 

Self recently in Santry Wood

If modernity (or post-modernity even)  means anything, then the quest for personal identity is at its heart.  One could argue that this quest lies at the very core of Western philosophy, and indeed Western religions.  In that modern search for self, psychology and psychotherapy are foundational.  I discussed psychotherapy in the immediately preceding post to this one. Psychology, which chronologically preceded psychotherapy, is commonly defined as the science of behaviour and the mental processes which instigate that behaviour.  The year 1879 is commonly seen as the start of psychology as an independent field of study, because in that year German scientist Wilhelm Wundt founded the first laboratory dedicated exclusively to psychological research in Leipzig, Germany.

Wundt combined philosophical introspection with techniques and laboratory apparatuses brought over from his earlier physiological studies as well as many of his own design. This experimental introspection was in contrast to what had been called psychology until then, a branch of philosophy where people introspected themselves.  In other words, Wundt was taking human experience seriously, or using empirical data, and was, then and only then, reflecting upon those experiences through introspection.  Before this psychology was a a mere branch of philosophy where people examined their minds through introspection, or through looking within.  This process, while legitimate, was merely speculative and not based on concrete empirical or experiential data.

2. Religion and Theology

The problem with reason or rationality is that it is just that, the working out in a methodical or logically rigorous way our thoughts on X, Y or Z subject, oftentimes with little reference to the whole gamut of human experience in its broadest sense.  We are not merely rational beings - we are human beings with all that incorporates: social, ethical, moral, religious/spiritual, musical and artistic dimensions and so on.  Here, one could say, that we are talking about human beings as essentially cultural beings.  I quite like the WIKI definition of culture, which is worth reproducing in its entirety here:

In the 20th century, "culture" emerged as a central concept in anthropology, encompassing the range of human phenomena that cannot be directly attributed to genetic inheritance. Specifically, the term "culture" in American anthropology had two meanings:

1. the evolved human capacity to classify and represent experiences with symbols, and to act imaginatively and creatively; and
2. the distinct ways that people, who live differently, classified and represented their experiences, and acted creatively. (See HERE)

Within that broader cultural context outlined above lies everything that marks out human beings as different from their animal brothers and sisters (to use terminology much loved by St Francis). Here I wish particularly to talk about the human experience of the numinous or the divine or the spiritual in the lives of human beings.  It is simply incontrovertible that human beings have religious experiences.  One would want to be living in a cocoon not to be aware of that.  What is this phenomenon anyway? What are religious experiences? Here, one can study the anthropology of religion, the sociology of religion, comparative religions, philosophy of religion and indeed theology itself to explore what this may be.

In the above paragraph, I referred to what is termed the numinous. Quite simply this impressive word is an English adjective, taken from the Latin word "numen", and is used by some to describe the power or presence of a divinity or a God or a Spirit or a Power that is both beyond and within us, a reality that sustains us and everything in the universe.  The Latin word "numen" means a "divine presence."

The word was popularised in the early twentieth century by the German theologian Rudolf Otto in his influential book Das Heilige (1917; translated into English as The Idea of the Holy, 1923).  The phrase from this book which this writer remembers from his theological studies in the late 1970s are the Latin words: "Mysterium tremendum et fascinans" that translates as "terrifying and fascinating Mystery."  In other words, that is a mystery before which we both tremble and are fascinated; before which we are both repelled and attracted. Thus, God can appear both as wrathful or awe inspiring.

Interestingly, and quite appropriately for my purposes in this post, the numinous experience as described by Rudolf Otto also has a personal quality, insofar as the person experiences a closeness to, or a communion with the wholly other. That people constantly report that they have personal experiences of such closeness to the divine is also a given in most if not all cultures.  As a phenomenon, religious experiences simply cannot be written off as delusions, though there are many who would do so from a narrow rationalist viewpoint.  However, it is the adjective "narrow" that I underscore here.  Our rationality is merely a small, albeit significant, part of our wider experiences as human beings.

3. Discovering Shared Reality as a Ground for Religious Experience

In this section, here, dear readers, I am going to use some of my teaching experiences with adolescent boys with Asperger's Syndrome. These boys lie on what is termed the ASD spectrum where ASD stands for Autistic Syndrome Disorder.  Put in its simplest terms (at the risk of oversimplifying things, admittedly) let's say that these boys live to varying degrees in their own world.  The more autistic of them are, shall we say, more lost in their own worlds than the less autistic.  When I am teaching them (always in small groups of about 4 to 6 students) social education and communication skills I draw a simple diagram on the board of a series of little circles around a round table (my table in my classroom is actually circular) where each circle with the individual pupil's initials represents the individuals in the room.  I include my own initials in one of the circles and also that of the Special Needs Assistant in another.  The middle circle or table I tell them is common shared reality. Reality, I tell them is the commonly shared experiences of all of the individuals present.  All the while, when the students are sharing their experiences on whatever topic we are discussing, I as teacher or facilitator constantly challenge them to stay in "the world of shared reality" and attempt in as far as possible to prevent them from escaping into the more surreal landscape of their own isolated minds.  I have several students who, no matter what we are discussing, will reduce any and every conversation to their own narrow interests.  In other words, in common parlance, the teacher's task is actually to "keep it real!"

Link with Religious Experiences

The wonder of the simple Honey Bee!

It has long been my considered opinion that religions do tend to attract the "lunatic fringe." Now, I am casting no judgement here - this is a mere objective statement.  These people have one psychiatric or neurological complaint or another.  And the world (or church), in the words of St Augustine, must, at its best, be a hospital which offers healing to all.  Now, this is where we come to "shared reality."  When you or I have a "religious experience" we must check that experience against the shared reality of the believing community.  This has always been a sound theological principle, that is, that individuals must confirm their personal experiences with those of others, especially with those of others in their community. Otherwise, they run the risk of being looked on as belonging to the "lunatic fringe", or, at least, being somewhat deluded. (At its most extreme, unchecked and non-validated religious experiences end up being cult-like and a grave distortion of the truth.)

There is much that I want to write about religious experience in these posts, but because it is such an almost indescribable reality, I am singularly lost for words.  So, please excuse the lack of overall structure in what I am writing here.  I am, dear readers, struggling here to get across what I have experienced as "real," as "spiritual" or "religious," having checked them out through reading, research, and discussion with others.  The biggest thing I have learnt ever is not to rush to judgement, to take a Socratic approach of admitting one's ignorance before searching for the truth of the question in discussion.  In other words be open-minded and broaden the picture out.

Tentative Conclusion

As this post is about the validity of experience, let me finish with one or two of my own spiritual experiences. In the Easter period of 2002 I went to visit my cousin P. in Boston.  P. was always (and still is) one of my dearest friends.  He is now an addiction counsellor employed by the State and has a beautiful wife and a lovely little daughter.  He himself suffers from two addictions - gambling and alcoholism.  Obviously, he is more than coping with this double-addiction, allied to a third complaint of being Bipolar, as he is a very successful and much sought-after addiction counsellor.  P. is a living example of "the wounded healer" and is carrying three heavy crosses to use a religious metaphor. As a boy he was a wonderful young lad with a great sensitivity in his soul.  Anyway, P. invited me to an A.A. meeting, which he was chairing, as his guest.  That evening I was deeply moved.  I sat and listened to what could only be called the deep truths issuing forth from the souls of other human beings.  The A.A. is such a super organization, the first and foremost self-help group ever.  There were so many wounded souls there healing and supporting each other. The experience of that meeting was a deep and profoundly moving experience for me.  I can safely and most assuredly call it a spiritual experience.  Here we had individuals sharing a common spiritual reality.  All recovering alcoholics speak about having to admit that they are not in control of their lives and of having to hand over control to a greater and higher power who alone can lead them onward through their own personal wilderness.  I know, I went home a changed and more chastened man that evening. Now psychologists or social psychologists might describe this experience in different, more objective terms, but, but, but... and, dear readers, it is a big but and a long but... we always have to return to what the experience is for the individual.  Standing outside an experience and trying to objectify it may, in fact, be somewhat distorting of the truth of the experience.  Here, is perhaps, where the principles of phenomenology come in - I hope to discuss in more detail the phenomenological basis of religious experiences in upcoming posts if I can get my mind around this great and mysterious subject. 

To finish this post let me describe another spiritual experience I shared with my dear friend and cousin P.  One day he said to me: "Let's go down to New York and visit Ground Zero."  I deeply wished to go as I knew that we would be literally going on a pilgrimage.  As we travelled down in P's pick up truck we talked of old times growing up in the small town of Roscrea, Co.Tipperary, Ireland.  When we got to Ground Zero, we knew, as all knew, that we were standing on sacred ground where thousands of wonderful human beings had perished. We spent hours reading all the various posters and tributes to the dead and perusing with tearful eyes their pictures.  This experience still remains etched on my heart and soul.  I have to call this a religious or spiritual experience because, literally, it was so.  No amount of analysis can pin point the depths of that experience.

And so the turn to experience is very important indeed in all areas of human endeavour.  It is my hope that I will be able to trace its deep undercurrents in forthcoming posts.

Journal of a Soul 37

Ageing

I am on the left above, about 4 years of age.

A colleague at work says he does not mind growing old, quite simply because once you're ageing at least you are still alive.  I recall the great jazz musician, artist and art critic, George Melly (1926-2007) once stating that he took a certain satisfaction from visiting graveyards and looking at the headstones and breathing a sigh of relief that he had managed to outlive so many.  I remember another friend of mine, an old Christian Brother, who had been Provincial Leader of the Northern Province of Irish Christian Brothers for some time remarking that the older brothers used always opine that as one aged it was "either the legs or the head which go first."  Presumably, they were referring to either the loss of bodily motion in the first case and the onset of senility or dementia in the second.  I also remember his remarking that a certain Brother simply "had not grown old gracefully."  

I recall also my Aunt Noreen, who had spent nearly forty years nursing and is still hail and hearty (and playing golf) remarking to me that old age is "a cross we will all have to bear, and a heavy one at that." And indeed, growing old is not nearly so easy a task as one might think. Readers of this wee blog will know that my own mother passed away during the summer just gone at the grand old age of 96.  However, while she lived to such a good age, she had spent the last 11 years of her long life in a nursing home just gradually fading away into a world of very little recognition of anyone around her.  However, her doctors and nurses described her last years as being happily demented, thankfully, as many demented people can become quite angry and agitated.

A colleague of mine, referring to another female colleague, who spends a lot of money on appearing "young", says that this particular person will certainly not grow older or old in a graceful or easy manner.  It is widely believed that this person uses Botox.  However, be that as it may, what is at issue here is humankind's propensity to deny growing old...to our detriment indeed as denial is surely destructive of the inner being.  To deny any truth is to sow the seeds of disillusionment, depression, and even despair.

Acceptance 

Me an my brother.  I'm on the right, about 13 years.

Acceptance is hard task.  Oftentimes we seek to understand what life has thrown at us and what it is doing to us and we drive ourselves to near distraction in trying to come to grips intellectually with it.  However, oftentimes it is the ability to accept what life does to us that may help us through a period of disturbance and turmoil, or through a period of either physical or mental pain.  Now, I am not arguing for blind acceptance here.  To my mind, blind acceptance is useless, as it is a mere fatalism which will simply take no action and let everything happen without any striving to help oneself.  No, what I mean here is that acceptance which acknowledges whatever calamity has befallen us, accepts it as having happened, but which then positively and courageously embraces a future that does not give up on one's inner potential no matter how deeply one has suffered.  The type of acceptance I have in mind is a sort of realism coupled with a large dose of optimism and indeed hope.  I am certainly not arguing for the acceptance shown by Mary Tyrone in Eugene O'Neill's wonderful tragedy of a family bedevilled by addiction in its many forms - the opium addiction of Mary and the alcoholic addiction of her son Edmund, if my memory serves me correctly here.  Mary's acceptance is nothing short of fatalism and a passive giving into what life throws at us.  Her lines run: 

"James! We’ve loved each other! We always will! Let’s remember only that, and not try to understand what we cannot understand, or help things that cannot be helped - the things life has done to us we cannot excuse or explain.”  

There is much fatalism and absolutely no sort of realism coupled with the optimism and hope I have alluded to above.  For me, acceptance is like a diving board from which I have to have the courage to launch off into the unknown deep (future).  (See both these posts by two different bloggers on this play and on Mary's character and her addiction: Seven Pillars and Still Point).

Therapy Work

Me, in more recent times, enjoying my favourite beverage!

I do a little counselling at work as I have done several courses in that area.  I am sufficiently well-trained  to know when to recommend students to see professional counsellors or more specialist psychotherapists.  I also have developed good listening skills over years of practice both at training courses and in my line of work as a Resource Teacher.  One pupil came to me once in a state of complete nervous agitation and with a very troubled sleeping pattern.  I got him to list all the feelings he had over the particular incident with the particular person.  I got him to see how each of these feelings were linked with specific thoughts about both, and how such feelings were quite natural.  Then he wrote the following: "I hate myself!"  I explored this feeling with him and what it meant.  Then we went to the situation and the other person who was involved in the situation and I asked him was that feeling really based on a very acceptable thought.  He agreed that it was based on a very irrational thought: "I should be hated!"  "Why should you hate yourself based on what happened or continues to happen?  I see why you are angry, frustrated, annoyed etc etc and these are all reasonable feelings in the circumstances, but hating yourself, what basis has it at all in the situation you find yourself in?"  This type of clarification of his thoughts and feelings worked as the boy came back to me the following day and stated: "My situation has not changed one bit, but I feel a little better!"  In other words, I will work with him by listening to him when he comes to me for help.  I will attempt to help him accept certain facts that he can do nothing about. However, I will help him to see that he can choose how to respond to any situation he finds himself in.  I will empower him insofar as possible to see that sometimes (possibly not in every situation as that would, I think, be unrealistic and would set the client up for a fall) he can choose to decide how he feels about X, Y or Z.  One thing, I never do, nor would any counsellor worth his/her salt, is to offer any type of "ideal" or definite solution to the problems brought.  I merely listen and say that what we will try to do together is to understand as best as we can what is going on in the situation and to see if there are any ways we may possibly improve the situation.  I normally point out, because it is not always obvious to the client, that there are certain things about the presenting problem which one will not be able to change.  I normally ask a question like, "Is there anything you can change at the moment?"

Proactive Acceptance

Let me name here what I attempt to do with my students in the above situations as "proactive acceptance."  I started this post talking about ageing, and indeed all of the above is really about that even if it seemed that I went off the point somewhat in talking about acceptance in general. There are indeed many good things about growing old: growth in knowledge of all types, growth in wisdom; a certain peace of mind that you have worked hard to earn all that you have achieved to date, and a great pride wells up in one insofar as one has earned all that by the sweat of one's own brow.  There are times when I say to myself some such understandable nonsense like: "Jesus, I wish I could go back to 1980 and start teaching again with all that I know now!"  Of course, I know that this an utterly ridiculous wish, though thoroughly understandable.  Age is the price we pay for experience; the price we pay for wisdom; the price we pay for whatever success we have eked out of life over the duration of our so far allotted years.

And so there are many times I moan about the stiffness of my arthritic bones and joints in the morning as my two alarm clocks rattle me awake from dreamland.  Yes, there are times one wishes one could lie longer in bed/  Yes, there are times one feels like throwing in the towel.  I have mentioned in this and other blogs that I suffer from clinical depression and have been on a relatively low strength antidepressant for the past 15 years.  However, in all that time I think I may have missed one or two days at most from work.  What I have learned is to be good to myself, to rest as much as possible, never to take on tasks that drain me and which I hate, to say "no" at least as often as I say "yes", to exercise regularly, to eat well, to think positive thoughts, to meditate, to engage in activities that I enjoy, to read and to write and to do as much soul work as I possibly can.  All of this can be called my "proactive acceptance" of my mental health situation.  I never let any debilitating self-pity creep in as that is simply soul-destroying.

The Truth That Sets Us Free  

If one studies any of the great religious traditions of the world and strip away the more denominational attire one will arrive at a very positive psychology. (Admittedly, you will have to prune the likes of the Old Testament and the Koran with a strong secateurs, but the task is worth doing.)  Basically, they are all about being true to the self (or soul).  Let's call all the religious language mere metaphor and simile.  There can be no self-acceptance without facing the bare truth about the naked self, that is the self stripped of its many masks and the uniforms of its different societal roles.  As an old friend said to me once about making any important decision in life: "If you can live with your SELF after that decision, then it is a good one."  

As I mentioned the great play Long Day's Journey into Night above, let me finish with an ad rem longer quotation from it in conclusion: Once again it is Mary Tyrone who is speaking:

I don't blame you. How could you believe me – when I can't believe myself? I've become such a liar. I never lied about anything once upon a time. Now I have to lie, especially to myself. But how can you understand, when I don't myself. I've never understood anything about it, except that one day long ago I found I could no longer call my soul my own. (2.2.132)