Thought for the Week: Either/or
Dorothy Searle reflects on achieving balance
I first became acquainted with Quakers over forty years ago. At that time, I realised that there was a feeling – usually expressed by the oldest generation – that spiritual experience was much more closely linked to art than to science. While I can appreciate both, as my mind is more inclined to science than art, I felt like a second-class citizen.
Time has passed and that generation is no longer with us, and that idea seems largely to have faded. Actually, I don’t even see a rigid distinction between science, art and spirit. They all seem, to me, to have fuzzy edges.
However, I’m aware of another frequently stated and current idea which is similar: that ‘Heart’ is much more attuned to ‘Spirit’ than ‘Head’ is, and various well-respected Quakers from the past are often quoted on this topic; to me, that implies that emotion is supposed to be a better route to spiritual experience than intellectual thought can be.
I don’t understand this, as I find that anything can be a starting point for a spiritual experience. I suspect that what’s more likely to get in the way of the spirit is any attempt to control or direct it, rather than whether it’s perceived emotionally or intellectually. A controlling attitude can go with emotion just as easily as with intellect. My experience is that, if I could only manage to do it, I should empty myself of all emotion and thought in order to receive spiritual experience unhindered. But, since my perception doesn’t seem to be the prevailing one and, as I’m more inclined to thought than emotion, once again I’m feeling like a second-class citizen.
Being very much open to visual analogies when considering spiritual matters, I have my own metaphorical picture of what makes a human being. My awareness is of us all consisting of three main elements: body, emotions and intellect. In any one individual, the three will be of different sizes, depending on their importance to that individual, but all will be there.
These three elements each take the form of a flexible sheet with its own colour, irregular shape and variable thickness. The three sheets blend together along their edges to form a bowl – and that’s what contains the spirit. Regardless of the shapes and relative sizes of the sheets, they need to fit together snugly where they meet, so that there are no gaps through which the spirit can be lost. The better the three are balanced, the more stable the bowl and the more level the rim – and the greater the depth of spirit it can hold.
Achieving this ideal fit and balance is, at least, a lifetime’s task. Each of the three must have sufficient room to spread out to its ideal thickness, and none must be squashed out of shape. If one element needs extra room, it mustn’t crowd out another; the bowl must get bigger and change its shape to accommodate it. It’s easy to take an analogy too far, but perhaps the colours of the three elements are those which harmonise best with each other and with the character of the individual they represent.
In my case, the largest element will always be the intellect, but I need to make plenty of room for body and emotions too. The fact that someone else will need different proportions is irrelevant; everyone must allow their own elements to flow into each other in such a way that their bowl is the best it can be for them.
I do wonder why the physical seems to be left out of both the comparisons that bother me. But, apart from that, I just don’t see a rigid division between art and science or between heart and head. I believe that, in each case, both are relevant and need to be in harmony with each other. To me, it’s a case of ‘both, and’, not ‘either, or’.
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