Late last week, I found myself in one of those proverbial dark nights of the soul. You know, those times where you question the existence of God, the meaning of life and even the motives of cute, fluffy kittens. It hit me unexpectedly, as these things always do. Maybe it was the dwindling daylight of the season and the spell of incessant rain here in North Carolina. Maybe my malaise was triggered by leftover frustration from writing my post about infighting within the Neo-Pagan spiritual community. Most likely, my dark night was yet another ripple in the pool of grief I've experienced over the last three years.
I've lost a number of people who were very dear to me, and I was laid off from a job I'd had for nearly 20 years. Yes, there have been lots of changes in my life, and overall, I think I've weathered these changes pretty well. I'm enrolling in seminary and looking forward to the opportunities that will bring, and a friendship has blossomed into romance. And I've managed to hang on to my spirituality despite experiencing a period where I thought it, too, had died. It's in truly difficult life moments like that one that you beg to hear the voice of Spirit and crave for the blessed assurance that faith typically brings.
Last week, I found myself in that all-too-familiar space of questioning the validity of my spiritual beliefs and practices. This felt particularly cruel because only a few weeks earlier I had experienced the spiritual high of attending the Parliament of the World's Religions in Salt Lake City. I left the Parliament confident in my spiritual direction and guidance, and then this past week, I questioned it all -- seminary, my daily practice, the existence of Spirit, everything. Don't worry -- I am feeling much better now. But it got me to thinking about the volatility of feelings and emotions, how we attach spiritual significance to them, and about how our faith in God or Spirit is built on such shaky foundations.
People believe all kinds of stuff. I have friends who claim to regularly talk to helpful spirits, friends who receive spiritual messages from other worlds, friends who hear deities calling them and so on. Don't be too quick to call my friends crazy -- is it really any different to claim you hear Christ when praying or reading the Bible? But regardless of whether you're a Christian or a Pagan or something else, your faith is based on how you feel about something. You must be confident that your prayer is being heard by someone you cannot see or touch. You must be confident that the scriptures you are reading are actually the words of God. You must be confident that the offering you leave in the woods will actually be noticed and appreciated.
I must be a natural skeptic because I question more things than I accept. I always have. And trust me, it can be quite confounding when a skeptic like myself also wants to be a minister. Everyone expects a minister to be confident and sure of everything spiritual, from knowing for a fact prayers will be answered to having a clear picture of what happens when we die. But I have no confidence in any of this. And so I frequently marvel at those friends whose faith is immediate and unshakable. Tell them a crystal will improve their love life, and they believe it. Tell them to memorize a prayer or mantra for guidance, and they can describe how it worked. Tell them to make an offering or conduct a ritual in order to receive a divine blessing, and they'll return with inspirational stories to share.
You might say that they are deluded. Or maybe their faith is simply stronger than mine. Perhaps it's actually somewhere in between -- they desire Spirit so deeply that they feel it's a betrayal to ask too many questions. But dark nights of the soul are heavy with questions. I suppose I think that if I can be more spiritually confident, I'll keep those dark nights at bay. Some people say that dark nights are where we grow the most spiritually, and we have to ask questions in order to have a faith that is founded on something more than fleeting emotions. I've also heard that I'll be a better minister by asking these questions, and they'll prepare me to help others one day. I fear, though, that these dark nights have made me a bit jaded, wary of spiritual highs and more than a little weary of the spiritual lows.
Are you a questioning skeptic or an unwavering believer? How have you navigated your own dark nights of the soul? How does your spirit handle emotional highs and lows?