For some reason that isn’t completely apparent to me – though I suspect that it may have to do with the dualistic mind-set of most western people – it seems that spiritual systems either focus on thought to the virtual exclusion of emotion, or focus on emotion to the virtual exclusion of thought. Charismatic worshipers in Christianity and Bhakti Yoga devotees in Hinduism both stress affect as evidence of spiritual accomplishment. The more devotion I feel to God, or the more emotional I am, the more spiritual I must be.  On the other hand, non-Charismatic Roman Catholics, Lutherans, Anglicans, Unitarian Universalists, New Thought devotees, and a host of others would like to believe they can think their way to God and that emotional response is a self-produced psychological event that is not a reliable indicator of spiritual achievement.  In an odd sort of way, both extremes of spirituality are a reaction to and tend to feed off of what they find objectionable in the other.

In my experience, however, life itself is both intellectual and emotional.  Those who spend too much time in one world or the other are generally seen as needing to achieve some balance in order to become whole, integrated human beings.  Most of us would recognize and readily admit that neither pointy-headed academics nor histrionic drama queens (regardless of gender) make very good employees, co-workers, friends, or life partners. Why, then, do we seek one-dimensional spirituality?

I believe it has everything to do with comfort.  In our spiritual lives we are attracted to the familiar and the comfortable.  There are times when the familiar and the comfortable are just what we need. In times of crisis or loss, we are comforted by the familiar and that is as it should be.  Hopefully, the majority of our lives are spent not in crisis but in the everyday!  In those times of stability, our spirituality should be calling us to grow into integrated human beings.  To do so we will have to reclaim the parts of ourselves we have rejected.  The pointy headed will need to answer what for them is perhaps the most difficult question: “How do you feel?”  The emotional will have to answer their most difficult question: “What do you think about this?”  Don’t be surprised, no matter which camp you fall into, if answering your most difficult question is even harder than you thought it would be!

Spiritual maturity requires that the “frozen chosen” allow themselves to thaw a bit, stop worrying about appearances and what makes sense, and just do what feels good.  Those who are shouting out ecstatic utterances and speaking in tongues need to allow themselves to ask questions – something their tradition has quite often not allowed.  Both hiding in reason and hiding in emotion are attempts to control life, and all such attempts are doomed to fail.  We would do better to actually live life, to move into a space where we are willing to admit that we don’t have all the answers – and that we don’t need all the answers.  We could adopt what the Korean Zen tradition calls “Don’t know mind,” the mind of the perpetual observer and student of reality.  “Only don’t know” acknowledges that, once we believe we have arrived, we stop learning and close both mind and heart.

So let your hair down, I won’t tell anyone.  Ask a question, I won’t reject you for doing so.  Most of all, move from the place where you believe you have found the formula – affective or intellectual – into the journey (not the destination) that is spirituality!