I started with silly, hoping for a great cookie recipe to try--of course they wouldn’t be real. I had adopted a child’s sense of belief in Cookie Monsters’ cookies! Then Zadie brought me to my teens again--such a peril, the teenage mind! (I love her books, reading them brings her into focus like a lifelong friend; she’s always just Zadie to me, never Smith.)
Then, Wider Than the Sky was revelatory! I already knew some of the workings of the brain--as a teen I’d been fascinated with drawing its dendritic structures, with stars ✨ exploding in the space between synapses. I used to practice remembering my dreams in an Eastern tribal process called Turn and Face the Tiger (which morphs the stuff of nightmares into friendly teachings). And here she was, explaining the brain as though truly believing in it as both friend and guardian. That felt familiar, although the long loss of her husband was terrifying. (My husband changed in time, too, as he sickened, but there were no clear signs like an exploded pupil. I only thought his MAGA politics were ruining his ability to be fair.)
I concluded, though, that if we are hardwired for spirituality we must nevertheless fight any urge toward religiosity, which has been the cause of (almost?) all wars. A close examination of religion proves that man has only ever worshipped man. WaPo published an article Oct. 3 titled: “America Doesn’t Need More God. It Needs More Atheists.” Atheists don’t have the luxury of being forgiven by a supreme authority for their cruelties, which allows them greater altruism. They can’t foment wars in the belief that “God is on our side.” For atheists, there is no reproof or punishment for deviating from the imposed tenets of faith. Still, I, too, lean into spirituality--which is, for me, an abiding sense of the connection all living things share. (Call me crazy, I have felt it even in some rocks.) When out in nature, I used to hug trees. In that comforting silence one can both hear-- and more profoundly, FEEL-- the movement of the tree, from roots to highest branches, in rhythm with the planet. (I highly recommend it.) This is spirituality the brain knows, too, as its custard also gently rocks with the rhythms of the spheres.
I started with silly, hoping for a great cookie recipe to try--of course they wouldn’t be real. I had adopted a child’s sense of belief in Cookie Monsters’ cookies! Then Zadie brought me to my teens again--such a peril, the teenage mind! (I love her books, reading them brings her into focus like a lifelong friend; she’s always just Zadie to me, never Smith.)
Then, Wider Than the Sky was revelatory! I already knew some of the workings of the brain--as a teen I’d been fascinated with drawing its dendritic structures, with stars ✨ exploding in the space between synapses. I used to practice remembering my dreams in an Eastern tribal process called Turn and Face the Tiger (which morphs the stuff of nightmares into friendly teachings). And here she was, explaining the brain as though truly believing in it as both friend and guardian. That felt familiar, although the long loss of her husband was terrifying. (My husband changed in time, too, as he sickened, but there were no clear signs like an exploded pupil. I only thought his MAGA politics were ruining his ability to be fair.)
I concluded, though, that if we are hardwired for spirituality we must nevertheless fight any urge toward religiosity, which has been the cause of (almost?) all wars. A close examination of religion proves that man has only ever worshipped man. WaPo published an article Oct. 3 titled: “America Doesn’t Need More God. It Needs More Atheists.” Atheists don’t have the luxury of being forgiven by a supreme authority for their cruelties, which allows them greater altruism. They can’t foment wars in the belief that “God is on our side.” For atheists, there is no reproof or punishment for deviating from the imposed tenets of faith. Still, I, too, lean into spirituality--which is, for me, an abiding sense of the connection all living things share. (Call me crazy, I have felt it even in some rocks.) When out in nature, I used to hug trees. In that comforting silence one can both hear-- and more profoundly, FEEL-- the movement of the tree, from roots to highest branches, in rhythm with the planet. (I highly recommend it.) This is spirituality the brain knows, too, as its custard also gently rocks with the rhythms of the spheres.