Creed

Here’s my current personal creed, though ‘creed’ feels far too grandiose a term.  All I’m really doing here is putting a few words to things I do and don’t believe, especially in the area of spirituality.  I’m finding it quite exhilarating to say it out loud in front of you.  You might like to try it yourself.

I’m probably best described as a secular rationalist.  I don’t believe in a supernatural, spiritual realm that is distinct from the material or human realm.  I treasure and trust logic and reason as conduits of truth, holding them in the highest regard alongside their royal colleagues, intuition and imagination

I don’t believe we are human beings having a spiritual experience.  I don’t believe we are spiritual beings having a human experience.  I do believe we are human beings having a human experience – no more, no less.  I wouldn’t have it any other way because I believe it’s ultimately and solely in our humanness that we’re fully alive, fully realised, fully authentic and fully free.

I regard metaphysical and religious debates, especially the debate over the existence of God, as a distraction from life’s main game, which is to live fully and rejoice in our aliveness, to thrive, to love, to learn, to grow and finally to leave the most beautiful possible legacy to those who follow us.

I value enormously the explosion of knowledge, the vast improvements in the quality of human life, and the tremendous freedoms, especially freedom of thought, that have cascaded out of the scientific and philosophical revolutions in the Western world over the last 500 years.  Despite all humanity’s present woes, I believe that the general quality of human life is vastly better now than it was in past eras.

I don’t believe there was ever a golden age where all was perfect or where the deepest truths of life were available in ways that we have subsequently obscured, lost or forfeited. I don’t revere anything on the grounds that it is ancient and I don’t despise anything on the grounds that it is modern.

I don’t believe in the existence of intervening gods, spirits or supernatural  entities.  And I don’t believe that the non-acceptance of a supernatural realm precludes in any way an enlightened, purposeful and deeply spiritual life.

I don’t believe that at the core of existence is a cosmic battle between supernatural forces of good and evil.  I don’t believe that the universe is running to any kind of divine agenda or plan.  I don’t believe our individual lives are either. I believe our futures are contingent on solely natural factors, including the limited but important set of factors over which we exercise some control – notably our own thoughts, feelings, words and actions.

I don’t believe in the existence of an essential identity or “true self”. I think the quest for a true self and the repudiation of a false self is ill-conceived and self-fracturing, a distraction from the far more profound and worthwhile quest for integrity and personal congruence.

I don’t believe in an eternal soul, spirit, core essence or enduring personal consciousness that survives our bodily death.  I regard all these as fanciful notions, artefacts of imagination and language, not real entities.  I suspect they grow out of a misplacement of our biological survival instinct, an overblown sense of self-significance, and what I see as the hopelessly mistaken idea that without some form of resurrection, after-life or reincarnation, death renders our lives meaningless and tragic.

I value and respect religious traditions and spiritual paths insofar as they encourage self-awareness, help us harmonise of our inner and outer lives, and cultivate loving communities of noble practice.  However, I don’t value or respect them insofar as they propound metaphysical paradigms as absolute truths and prerequisites to the realisation of our ultimate potential or purpose.

I don’t believe that any one teacher, path, culture, practice, language, lineage,  paradigm or perspective – religious or secular – holds all the answers on matters of meaning, truth, enlightenment, maturation or human wholeness.  As the ancient Greek scientist and philosopher Xenophanes put it, I believe that: “as for certain truth no man knows it, nor shall he know it, neither of the Gods nor yet of all things that I speak. For even if by chance he were to utter The Final Truth, he would himself not know it: for all is but a woven web of guesses.”  I would add, though, that the web we’ve woven is intricate and brilliant, albeit skewed and incomplete. Well done, humanity!

By conventional religious standards, I’m much more an unbeliever than a believer.  But I do believe that we all have, to varying degrees, a religious impulse that draws and propels us in the direction of meaning, purpose and, for some of us, a sense of connection with a greater-ness of which we are a part.  I’m not talking about God here.  I’m talking about a sense of place within the totality of things, a felt recognition of an inextricable inter-being and harmony between the me “in here” and everything “out there”.

I do have some articles of faith.  For instance, I have faith that honesty is a surer path to freedom and well-being than dishonesty.  I have faith that nature is consistent, i.e. if we exactly replicate a set of conditions, nature will always produce the same results.

I also have some “articles of wonder”.  To me, these are more interesting and important than my articles of faith.  My articles of wonder are existence, consciousness and love.  To be more explicit:

• • That anything exists at all is a wonder to me.
  • That I am conscious of anything is a wonder to me.
  • That love exists between us is a wonder to me.

These wonders enchant me and refresh me.  They propel me into embracing my life enthusiastically, gratefully and reverently.

I’m touched by kindness, nourished by beauty, delighted by elegance, excited by knowledge and understanding, inspired by integrity and courage.  I have, over time, made a pretty decent peace with myself and become a pretty good friend to myself.  This is a great relief and a precious blessing.  And I’m held steady by the equally precious blessing of loving companions who accept and welcome me.  They encourage me and bring compassion and tolerant forgiveness to my many faults and shortcomings.  They shelter me, strengthen me and sustain me.  I don’t know where I’d be without them.

I am grateful for my life.  I haven’t always been, but I am now.  My sincere hope and aspiration is to live it in a way that does justice to the extraordinary gift and near-miracle that it is.

So there it is.  My creed.  My “mud-map” of reality.

I’ve been scratching it out over a lifetime, often in conditions of darkness and in a state of semi-blindness.  Still, I appreciate this modest little work-in-progress.  Each day it helps me navigate my path through life.  And I like to think that my mud-map has, with age, become a little less smudgy than it used to be, and a little more faithful to the territory I’m trying to chart.