Religious, but not spiritual

 Something that is often heard among people in esoteric, new age, and other circles of that type, is the phrase: “I’m not religious, but I am spiritual”. The phrase has never sat right with me. it always seems to suggest a sort of anti-authoritarian stance coupled with the seeking of novel experience through spirituality, or a way of letting people know you are unshackled from tradition, while still being ‘deep’.

While these things in themselves are alright, I’ve gradually come to quite a contrary point of view. In my case, it’s probably true to say that “I’m not spiritual, but I am religious”.

I used to be the sort of person who sought novel spiritual experiences. In my younger days I took all manner of drugs, had a liking for psychedelics, and was convinced that a big enough dose of the right drug would lead to breakthrough experiences, whatever they are. In magickal practice I also experimented with all kinds of magick, evocations, astral travel, inner visionary experiences, as well as yoga and meditation. The ultimate experiences of course as an A.’.A.’. person was the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel.

So often we are seeking for some experience, some validating event to justify our efforts, uphold our idea of how we would like the world to be, for validation and satisfaction. This is really a sort of spiritually expressed materialism. When we behave like this, we are really spiritual tourists. Some go to far off places and experience different cultures (I’ve done that too, and highly recommend it), some use this experience of being ‘travellers’ to form a persona. Back in the 90’s it was quite the thing to be able to call yourself a traveller. It has a savour of mystery, adventure, a robust and worldly person worthy of respect. Spiritual tourists, those seeking peak experiences, or just those seeking badges and grades, are no different at root.

Its true to say that I no longer feel that way. Having travelled quite a lot, I yearn to settle in one place. I realised that I don’t like travelling, what I like is to stay in one place for a few years, get to know people, learn the language, hang around after the novelty wears off. In terms of practice, I found that what makes the difference isn’t the peak experiences, the visions and revelations, but the long-term practice itself. Anyone can have a profound experience by taking a large does of DMT or LSD, which is a good way of ‘loosening the girders of the soul, of shaking us out of habitual thought patterns, but what tends to happen is that people, when they come down, resume life much as if nothing had happened, having no discipline or practice to help fortify and ground the experience. 

For me the same is true of magical practices. Astral travel got to be like watching a good film or reading a great novel. When the credits roll, I would go back to my life as if nothing had happened. Likewise, the days when I felt illuminated by something holy, graced by God, in touch with my HGA, or whatever peak experience, left me otherwise unaffected. It didn’t do me any good, so what was the point?

What did make a difference, however, was my long term practice, constant, over many years (over 25 years now that I think about it). For me that has been meditation and related practices. I started meditating in my teens, took up Tai chi at about 20, Aikido at about 30. Daily meditation has gone on all through that time, even through periods when I was a ‘spiritual tourist’ looking for peak experiences and transcendental events. I first encountered Zen at about 16, but for many years it was too simple, too austere, it offered nothing but daily life lived with attention, and within a traditional religious framework, it wasn't novel enough for my thrill seeking attitude. What I appreciate now though is the way that practice is digested into life. The best digestion is silent, just as the best sleep is dreamless. So it is with practice, the best practice is routine, silent, not special. 

But over the last few years and after concluding that most peak experiences were a waste of time, I really started to appreciate Zen for what it is, as an uncompromising attitude of turning towards reality and meeting it as is, without embellishment or elaboration. These days I am much more content to call myself religious, defining it as the constant devotion to a way of life that respects tradition and proceeds in an attentive and unassuming way, not seeking anything other than what is, nor running away seeking novel experiences, avoiding the lure of spiritual escapism. 

I don't have any supernatural beliefs, my religion is not 'faith based', nor do I feel that I am a spiritual person. I have no aspirations to an afterlife, or magical power, and it strikes me that 'enlightenment' is just simply seeing things as they are, and certainly not some special state.

Of course, it took me a long time to arrive here, and don’t expect everybody to agree with my approach, particularly the average seeker. But for me, this is more wholesome, more honest, and open to life as it is, rather than as I would like it to be. To me this is the only real way of encountering reality. And in terms of spiritual progress? There is no ‘progress’, as such, but it does take a certain kind of person to continue to live and practice in that constant way. It takes grit, determination, stoicism really, to get up and practice, to sit on the cushion, day in day out for years without expecting anything, simply allowing delusion to fall away of its own accord. 

For me the reward is simply to be the sort of person who lives like that.