This is part 8 of a longer essay about spirituality, which I'm be posting here in installments.
I recommend reading the parts in order. Read Part 7 Here.
To start at the beginning of the series, go here.
Subscribe above, or leave a comment below, to be notified when the next section is posted.
From the previous essay:
Spirituality, like existentialism and atheism, faces naked reality. The difference is that spirituality faces more of reality. Spiritual reality includes the wolf.
What is the wolf? And how could existentialists, scientists and postmodernists miss it when they look at reality?
Reality may ultimately be one immense thing, but as far as we humans are concerned, it’s different for everyone.[1] What you call reality is largely made up of what you experience. But we also believe in the reality of things we’ve never directly experienced. We take the word of others for them. Our reality, in other words, is partly a private experience and partly socially constructed.
Exactly what we’re willing to accept as real based on the word of others depends on many factors. One of the most important is whether we believe we see evidence of the reality we are told about. We can’t directly see x-ray radiation for example, but we take the word of scientists that it exists in part because we’ve seen medical x-rays. Our acceptance of the reality of things reported by others is also influenced by the number of those others and our level of trust in them. Many of us believe in x-ray radiation not only because of the evidence, but because there are hundreds of thousands of scientists who agree it exists and because we trust scientists to tell us the truth. We are also encouraged to believe in things we haven’t experienced if it’s practical to believe in them. Agreeing with others around us and being rewarded for that agreement is practical. So is much of what scientists tell us about reality, including the existence of x-ray radiation.
By contrast, take our belief in the reality of ghosts. If you’ve never experienced a ghost, you may or may not believe in them. Perhaps a friend tells you she’s seen one, but you don’t know anyone else who has. Perhaps you look at a poll online in which about 20% of Americans report seeing one.[2] Perhaps it matters to you that mainstream scientists tend not to believe in ghosts. You may find a belief in ghosts is practical or not. Perhaps belief brings you comfort, knowing loved ones still exist. Or perhaps it feels creepy. Or maybe it doesn’t matter much to you one way or the other.
If reality includes what we experience, then it must include our inner world of thoughts and feelings as well as our outer one.[3] These two worlds are very different. For example, while ghosts may be rare in the outer world, they are the only inhabitants of our inner world. Our thoughts and feelings may as well be ghosts. They seem mysterious and half-real. They appear and disappear, often without us knowing why. We sense their presence, but we can’t see, hear, taste, touch, or smell them. They can also delight us or spook us.
The wolf is a similar kind of ghostly creature. She appears mysteriously from the forest, then disappears back into it again. Horses belong to our socially-created reality—the things we’ve all agreed sound reasonable or impressive. But the wolf appears only to Ivan. Her guidance can’t be socially verified. It can’t be shown to have a proven track record either. This is because she has never offered anyone else the guidance she offers Ivan. She’s similar to a thought or feeling but isn’t exactly either of them. She’s more like an inner knowing—or a “still, small voice.” For now, let’s call her an intuition.[4]
The story of the Firebird grants intuition—in the form of the wolf—a reality as substantial as anything else in our lives. More than that, the story portrays our intuition as the key to our fulfillment. Remember that the wolf carries Ivan on her back to all the places he needs to go, and advises him what to do when he gets there.[5]
By contrast, our culture only sort of grants intuitions reality. We recognize them as sometimes important, but like ghosts, we tend to treat them like second-class citizens. We often ignore or dismiss our intuitions in the face of what we’re told is logical, reasonable, or statistically true. Scientists may recognize the immense role intuition plays in making discoveries, but they do so only informally.[6] Similarly, no matter how many they’ve seen, existentialists insist that wolves are just another creation of the human brain, and that, really, we are all alone in the forest.
The story of the Firebird makes a promise that seems incredible: there really is a creature every bit as flesh-and-blood as the horse she replaces. But she is known only to each of us. Not only that, but she is wiser than all the sages and scientists in the world. When we let go of all those concepts of who we are, what we should be doing, and what everyone else is doing, we receive guidance every bit as real and a thousand times more valuable. The reality of the wolf—of an inner knowing—is the secret of spirituality.
It is also the great miracle of existence: The universe is friendly and speaks to us in our hearts. The wolf is on our side. She doesn’t eat Ivan. Nor does she tell him, “Forget this Firebird nonsense. Come live with me in the woods and eat squirrels.” She offers to help him find what he wants.[7] The story of the Firebird tells us that there is something in the primordial forest of existence that wants us to have what we want.
Most people can’t accept this. Many even find the claim morally repugnant. Given all the suffering in the world, it seems so obviously wrong. But the claim of scientists that everything is made of atoms also seems obviously wrong. If we simply take a casual look at what’s around us, we see no evidence for atoms. To know about such tiny and incredibly important objects, we need to make a special effort. We need to investigate. The scientific consensus that everything is made of atoms took decades of experimentation and discussion to establish. Trusting the wolf is analogous to this. The only way to know is to experiment—over and over. There is no substitute for this participation. Spirituality is not a spectator sport.
The story of the Firebird tells us that when we drop what our parents, friends, culture, and inner chatter all tell us we should do, there is something else that emerges to guide us. Outside input may be helpful. But even if we logically weigh the pros and cons for choosing one thing or another, we can never weigh them all. Ultimately, it comes down to each of us and our wolf. Ultimately, some undefinable something speaks to us from the forest of our heart. This is how spirituality helps us meet our moments. It invites us to clear a space, so a wolf can approach. It’s the practice of recognizing wolves and being open to their guidance.[8]
Just as the wolf appears to Ivan when he sits down to rest, so our intuitions, or sense of inner knowing, tend to appear to us when we least expect them—when we take a nap, a walk, or a shower.[9] The wolf isn’t attracted by hard work or struggle or careful planning.[10] She doesn’t care what the horses in town are doing. She follows her own wild logic. But it’s the only kind of logic that can lead us to the Firebird: “You could have ridden your horse forever and never found the Firebird,” she tells Ivan.
We might imagine an angel to be a more fitting image for what we could call the divine guidance of intuition. Angels often do deliver God’s messages in religious stories. And yes, some people do have intuitions about “big” things. They just know, for example, that they want to be an actor, a mother, a teacher, or a vet. Intuitions can also feel angelic when they are more profound than usual. We tend to call these not intuitions but “realizations,” “insights,” or “revelations.” In art, they’re called inspiration. Artists often speak of their creations appearing to them, or coming through them.[11] Mozart seems to have consistently written music this way.
But if we expect our revelations to come streaking from the clouds with trumpet blasts, we are liable to wait a while.[12] The image of the wolf—rather than an angel—reminds us that usually intuition comes to us on padded feet. It guides us in smaller, wolf-like steps that are integrated into our day-to-day living. These steps may lead us to something big, but meanwhile they are what life is made of. I had the urge to cook some sweet potato the other day, for example, and eating it with butter and salt was divine. The image of the wolf keeps us on the earth, following our nose, alert to the delicious details of the moment. The wolf reminds us that, if we pay attention, God speaks to us all the time.[13] We feel drawn, for example, to go to a particular party, even though we don’t usually like parties. A book catches our eye at a flea market. A nap sounds really good. Driving home from work, we suddenly feel like turning down a different road. Intuitions are not necessarily anti-rational. In fact, they tend to be more practical than abstract rational ideas or statistical predictions because they are often concerned with the immediate situation we find ourselves in: they tell us what to do here and now.
Ultimately, though, they are unexplainable. This is one of their hallmarks. Intuitions lift us out of the realm of logic. We simply feel a pull, an urge, a playful thought.[14] Sometimes the small steps lead to hugeness. Maybe, for example, we meet our future spouse at that party. Sometimes they simply lead to satisfaction in the moment, like my sweet potato. Or so we may think. But can we humans know all the hidden connections between the events of our lives? The wolf is at the same time more down-to-earth and also more mysterious than an angel.[15]
Next Up: Testing the Theory
I'd love to hear from you! Subscribe above, or leave a comment below, to be notified of the next in the series.
Footnotes
[1] It’s also different for every organism. The reality experienced by a dog or a salamander is different from ours.
[2] In this same poll, about 20% report seeing an angel, and overall about two-thirds report some kind of paranormal phenomenon. (https://today.yougov.com/society/articles/44143-americans-describe-paranormal-encounters-poll)
[3] Though it is hard to tell where the border is between these two worlds is, if it exists at all. See my essay, “Division Vision,” from Of Geometry & Jesus.
[4] The word intuition has theological origins, going back to the Latin intueri which meant “to look at, consider.” In this way, intuition is linked to revelation. Both are things we simply behold.
[5]You can read various versions of the full story online, including here at https://firebird-yachting.com/blog/2018/8/29/the-tale-of-firebird
[6] It has played an especially huge role in the formulation of modern physics. Einstein has spoken of the central role of imagination, “feel,” and hunches in his ideas. These also led other pioneers in modern physics, such as Louis de Broglie, Erwin Shrodinger, and Max Born.
[7] What’s more, she asks for nothing in return. His horse was the only thing Ivan needed to sacrifice.
[8] This was also the central message of Christ. He simply used images suited to his culture to convey it, as when he told his followers to trust your “Father in Heaven,” and to be open to the “Holy Spirit.” (Sometimes called the Holy Ghost!)
[9] Just as Jesus said he would come “like a thief in the night,” and “when least expected.”
[10] Jesus told his followers not to worry, that his burden was light, that lillies and birds don’t toil and yet God provides for them.
[11] Usually the inspiration that drives a work of art comes bit by bit during the process of creation. Sometimes, though, works of art are delivered whole, as when Paul McCartney dreamed the entire melody of “Yesterday” and woke up and played it on a nearby piano. For weeks, he was sure it was an existing melody he’d heard somewhere.
[12] Or make up some grandiose mission for ourselves.
[13] This is the kind of alertness Zen teachers emphasize. It’s also what Jesus meant when he told his followers to stay alert, to “keep your lamp trimmed and burning, for you know not the hour in which I come.” Jesus likens himself to a “thief in the night.” He must be watched for—or your life will be stolen by waiting for angels.
[14] As a boy, Einstein was mesmerized by a magnet a relative gave him. It was the mysterious invisible force that he found magical.
[15] The image of the wolf also connects us to literal nature: all the animals and plants that make life on Earth possible and beautiful.
Comments