Jonathan Dodd‘s latest column. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
Sometime in the early 90s I had the good fortune to get a job at Customs and Excise in Southend. And while I was there I also had the good fortune to fall amongst a group of Spiritualists.
Southend was at that time almost exclusively populated by women, who had moved out of East London with their boyfriends to the end of the local train line. A few years (or months) later, out goes the boyfriend, et voilà! Road upon road of houses and flats with single women in, some with children and some without, and all complaining that there aren’t any worthwhile men to be had any more.
Interesting religious beliefs
I was renting a room off Shirley, who had a friend called Rudi. They had met at the local Spiritual Development Circle. I, of course, was immediately fascinated, and plied them with endless questions. I love meeting people with interesting religious beliefs. I’m sorry to say that I swamped them a bit with my quick-fire questions, and they suggested that I should meet their leader.
Joe turned out to be a very pleasant man, who looked like he had a bit of a history to him. He was one of those rare things – a believer who knew his stuff and took it all completely seriously, while being confident enough in himself and what he believed to be unfazed by my avalanche of questions. We became fast friends, and he invited me to join his Spiritualist Development Circle. Of course, I jumped at the chance.
It’s nothing like what you think it might be
Every week for the next few months I religiously turned up and sat in the circle with my fellow-travellers, learning many things and witnessing even more. And I did learn a lot, not necessarily what was on the surface, but underlying stuff, all of which has stood me in good stead ever since.
I learned that Spiritualism, like hypnosis, is almost certainly nothing like what you think it might be. I learned that the vast majority of Spiritualists are very ordinary and sincere people, whose earnest desire is to be of service to others. I learned that proper Spiritualists are unimpressed by those who seek fame or fortune from Spiritualism, and are inevitably obsessed by the techniques rather than the spirit of the thing, thereby showing how much they just don’t get it.
Proper spiritualists never judge
If you have to join a religion, you could do much worse. The two things I love about Spiritualists go like this. First, proper spiritualists never judge. You are what you are, they say, you’re going through this life and you’re struggling with things. Sometimes you do well, and sometimes you do badly. Eventually you’ll get it, even if it takes many lives. It’s your destiny. So what you need is tolerance, and the space to work it out.
Secondly, Spiritualists are the only religious group I ever came across who don’t judge those whose relationships fail. They gather round both parties, and help where they can. The idea is that every relationship has a start-point and an end-point, just like each life. You need to pick yourself up, they say, learn the lesson that you’ve been presented with, and get on with the next lesson. It’s nobody’s fault, it’s in your destiny.
Phoning you up all the time with trivial questions
I didn’t join the Spiritualists, but I came closer to it than any other religion I ever explored. Funnily enough, the thing that got to me was going to the services and seeing people turning up each week, waiting and hoping for a conversation with their departed loved ones. I never had any doubt about the messages and the sincerity and professionalism of the visiting mediums, but I always thought that each life should be lived in and of itself, and we should strive to acquire wisdom and understanding, and then we’re gone, until the next time.
I suppose I was brought up to be too polite, and not bother people. I kept thinking that if there are more lives after (and obviously before) this one, then death must be a bit like retiring and moving abroad. You don’t want your old colleagues phoning you up all the time with trivial questions. If we believe that we carry on in one form or another after death we should aim to get on with our lives rather than clinging on to messages from those who have gone before, or passed over, or whatever euphemism we may use for death.
Act as if there is no plan
Of course we miss people, but if we believe that life goes on, then we’ll see them again. And if they want to get in touch with us, they’ll find a way. In the end, the thing I truly learned was this. Whether we believe that there is a plan or not doesn’t matter, because we have no idea what that plan might be, and there is no way of influencing that plan. Even if we believe that we can, it’s just an act of faith, because we can’t travel to that far country and bring back actual proof of its existence. As Gandalf said, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us”.
Since we cannot know what we are supposed to do, we can only act as if there is no plan, and make our decisions and choose our paths with the resources we can gather to ourselves, trusting to our own judgement and hoping to gain enough wisdom to improve our decision-making capacity.
You don’t have to believe anything to use it
I also learned a technique that makes that difficult and agonising decision-making process so much less painful. You don’t have to believe anything to use it, and it fits every situation and question whatever your beliefs. You could try it yourself, if you have a difficult decision to make.
OK. Think of a dilemma or a question. ‘Should I change my job?’ ‘Should I lend this money to that person?’ ‘Who should I trust?’ Make it a practical one if you can. Try to ask the very best question you can, that gets as close to the heart of the thing you’re concerned about. Find a quiet place, and close your eyes, and look straight ahead with your eyes closed. Let your closed eyes look farther and farther out, beyond the horizon, right out there into the great blue yonder. And while you’re focusing on the farthest point in the Universe that you’re capable of, ask that question in your head, and send it out there towards that distant point.
The answer will appear in your head
Then it’s easy. Forget about the whole thing and stop worrying about it, because sooner or later the answer will appear in your head, and you’ll know what to do. Then all you have to do is do it.
How does it work? I have no idea. Does it work? It does for me. Try it.
If you have been, thank you for reading this. Something told me that you would.
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