Skeptuality

A Journey of Disbelief (Part 3): Community

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Sat, 06 Nov 2010 19:37:00 +0000

There are a lot of things to which I committed at the beginning of my Skeptual project which I have ceased to uphold: I have not recorded regular self-observations, I ceased to track the number of thoughts when I meditate, etc. I don't regret these particular decisions because, in reality, they didn't facilitate the general goal of the project (ie. to use traditionally spiritual practices as a means towards personal growth). I do, however, regret the general decline in practice. Over the past 4 months, Skeptuality - and thus my own personal growth - has been little more than a second-thought.

While I take full responsibility for the general lack of commitment, I recognize that there are times in my life when that commitment has been easier.

*Scene becomes all wavy. Cue the flashback music.

A New-born Skeptic and a bunch of Sufis
In Fall 2007, I had recently moved to Southern Illinois to begin my MBA, and for the most part, life was smiling at me. I received a fellowship that paid for my education, I was recently reunited with my girlfriend from whom I had been separated for a year, and my studies in organizational behavior held my attention more than I had anticipated.

In my org behavior class, I had a project to compare the structures, motivational systems, and client base of two organizations. Given my attraction for studying religions, I thought it would be an interesting twist to do a field study on two local religious institutions - taking the opportunity to also look at their ideologies through a sociological lens. Luckily, my professor had similar interests and completely supported my goal.

* Sufis: Enter Stage-left.

I heard through the grapevine that a small community of Sufi Muslims lived in the area. In my view, the field study would be a perfect opportunity to look into this unlikely group in southern Illinois and fill in the gaping holes of my knowledge about Islam. What I found - begrudgingly accepting the cliche - is something that changed me deeply.

In the Sufi community, I found a group of people who wholly committed themselves to personal and communal growth. With them, I learned of selfless-service as a spiritual practice, any one of them giving more of him/herself than I had ever seen another person give - volunteering seemingly countless hours per week, investing completely in their relationships with each other, fostering relationships with the external community. Every individual was the picture of transparency, openness, tolerance, and kindness. Each held a sense of awareness and personal responsibility for his/her actions that I would have previously thought unrealistically idealistic. In walking into their micro-cosm, it was as though I had stumbled into a future I hoped could be attained, surprised to find it already existed.

Before meeting the Sufis, I had proffered that the greatest asset of religion was its ability to offer a sense of community to its membership. With the Sufis, I experienced this first-hand. The traditions and practices they shared served the dual-purpose of tying them together and reminding them of their goals towards self-betterment. Through creating metaphors around these practices, they wrote meaning into their lives as individuals and fostered relationships with a group of individuals who could share that meaning.

I spent 2 semesters practicing with, volunteering with and writing papers about the Sufi community. When it came time for me to graduate, I seriously considered remaining with them and becoming a member of their community. "Why," you may ask, "did I not?" "If this scenario was so idyllic why ever would you leave?"

To claim there was only one reason I ultimately chose to leave would be minimalistic. There were a lot of factors and moving parts that, when I took them into consideration, made me lean towards a different path. That being said, there is at least one reason I would like to highlight here.

When I began my study with the Sufis, I was still not completely comfortable with the title of atheist; I still deeply wanted to believe in a higher consciousness or some cosmic force guiding natural events. While my time with the community convinced me that individuals are capable of much more than I would have given them credit, it also convinced me that the explanation for such kindness, love and growth need not lie with some supernatural force. My experience with the sufis, made me a humanist; I learned first-hand that human-kind is enough to create good in the world without supernatural, moral dictate or cosmic guidance.

The fact that I disagreed with the community on the "god question", made me feel different from them. It made me feel as though, despite all of their kindness and acceptance of whoever I chose to be, I would not be able to fully share the meaning that they created between themselves. I wanted to at least give myself a chance to find, or help create, a community who held a more similar view on meaning.

* Through the power of imagination, the reader finds him/herself transported to present day.

... I take full responsibility for my lack of commitment over the past 4 months, but commitment without a group of people sharing in that commitment is difficult.

When I first came to New York, I met so many skeptics, humanists, atheists, and generally secular people, that my hopes were extremely high; it was here that I would find/help create humanist community. I became a volunteer coordinator for the Center for Inquiry, I participated in philosophical discussions, I attended scientific and socio-political events; I was enthralled by all that was available to me. But at the end of each evening, I was an individual. Everyone of us were just individuals attending the same event.

Having a practice, and creating metaphors that connect you to that practice, can be a profound source of personal meaning. Yet, when a group of people share in those practices and that meaning, you are no longer just a lone spec of carbon floating through the cosmos; you are interconnected. Something out there in the universe - if only other specs of carbon - care about your journey. With the Sufis, that interconnection is what drove me to practice, to create meaning and to pursue personal growth. As an individual meditating and doing yoga in my apartment, its really only me who cares. My personal search for community continues.

What to Do?
For now, I would like to make an attempt to recommit to meditation and yoga. For the next two months, I am going back to the basics in order to more firmly establish what I would like out of my practice. We'll see how things have evolved by January to see how year 2 of this Skeptual experiment may look.

*Stage fades to black and the curtain falls. The audience is all like.."I wonder whats on youtube?"

For Reference:

A Journey of Disbelief Part 1

A Journey of Disbelief Part 2

Selfless Service - Skeptic vs the Dishes

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 17:57:00 +0000

Selfless service as a spiritual practice is harder than it sounds. In my service, I'm not simply volunteering time/energy; I'm volunteering time/energy with the goal of maintaining a certain attitude towards those actions.

For example, I generally have two attitudes with which I approach doing the dishes:

Approach A) Whiney, discontented grumbling - In approach A, I pay attention to the small ache in my back from bending over the sink. I recognize the fact that our sink is too small and that we don't have enough counter space for the dish rack. Most of all, I am aware of the things I could otherwise be doing. Awareness of self, surroundings and actions while doing the dishes takes me to a little place I affectionately call the 7th circle of hell. I have an irrational hatred for tableware in soapy water.

Approach B) "Cloud 9" - In approach B, I sing. I turn on the playlist in my brainy brain, warm up my vocal chords (often to the displeasure of wifey), and mentally check-out from the situation. I do my best to forget the aching back, small sink, lack of counter space, and loads of fun to be had elsewhere. Through focusing on singing, I do my best to impede my consciousness of a reality that would have me scrubbing plates, pots and pans.

Approach C
Skeptual selfless service is my attempt to create approach C: contented awareness of any situation. Not only do I have to aim my full attention to the horrible lot that is my life when I am forearm deep in suds, but I have to do so without my usual bitching and moaning. I attempt to force a level of maturity upon myself that no reasonable person wants. I say to myself, "Yes, you're doing something that you don't want to be doing right now ... something that you would probably sell your sister to get out of ... but that's no reason to be a baby about it."

Based upon my description above, you may be wondering, "Why is our favorite spiritual skeptic not contented with approach B." Lucky for you, I've become quite good at foreseeing the wonderings of my imaginary audience and have come prepared with answers.

Simply "checking-out" of a situation reinforces my ability to not deal with those things that I don't like. For each situation in which I can mentally check-out, there are at least 10 in which I cannot. Skeptual selfless service forces me to practice attaining the goal of the serenity prayer:

Grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change;

Courage to change the things I can;

And wisdom to know the difference.

I find the exercise to be a lot like meditation. During meditation, the practitioner observes any discomfort that may come with sitting for a long period of time (numb legs, aching back, etc) and attempts to maintain a modicum of serenity. I attempt the same while doing the dishes, scrubbing the tub, etc. The difference lies in my interaction with those around me.

During meditation, I purposely remove myself from interaction with others so that I may come to a place of calm while alone. During selfless service, my goal is to serve others; so I find myself in the company of the person I'm serving, wanting to throw a tantrum ... or at least make snide comments that communicate that I'm contemplating violence... and must essentially refuse myself the right to do so. I must bring myself to a happy place about all those forks and knives sitting tauntingly at the bottom of the sink.

I may have bitten off a bit more than I can chew with this practice, but I'm certainly going to continue trying. I would just suggest that no one stop by the apartment between 8 and 10pm unless they want to discover just how gloriously I'm failing.

... back to the pots.

Selfless Service - 2 Months Sans Ego

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 16:09:00 +0000

For the next two months, my skeptual practice will be selfless service. "Woah, woah, woah, Skeptomaniac," I hear you say. "What do you mean by self-less service or 2 months 'sans' ego," you ask. Thank you for asking, imaginary audience. Come right in and grab a seat as I pull out my mental suitcase which, for this particular concept, needs unpacking.

From a high-level view, "selfless service" seems pretty straightforward: serving selflessly, serving without concern for self, or simply, putting concern for others before concern for oneself. But why should one not be concerned with himself? Isn't self-concern what spurs an individual to care for his mental and physical well-being? Self-concern not only ensures the livelihood of the individual, but could also be seen to motivate that individual to focus on the well-being of family, friends and community by their mere proximity to that center of self. Perhaps selflessness is overrated; perhaps good old fashioned self-centeredness provides a perspective that advances the well-being of the masses.

If one says that "selflessness" prioritizes the needs, desires or general well-being of others before those of the self, then what is there for an individual to gain in this exercise? According to many spiritual traditions, particularly eastern traditions, the "self" is the source of most if not all suffering. Through fixation on the self - that amalgamation of whims, inclinations and other mental processes - we set up expectations for reality that may or may not be met. When met, these expectations fill us with a sense of joy; when unmet, they fill us with distress. Through breaking that fixation on the self, one may escape the cycle of reward-seeking or punishment evasion. One aligns his perspective of reality with what reality actually is at a given moment in time. Through exercises in selflessness, one practices this alignment of perspective and can purportedly reach a lasting sense of peace, tranquility, or even the much sought after enlightenment.

Now, as readers may have come to expect, I am skeptical about some of these claims. For example, while I can see the benefit of releasing certain expectations, desires or beliefs that do not/cannot meet with reality (ie. hoping to come home to Scarlet Johannson and the wifey, both intent upon cuddling), there are certain occasions where it is advantageous to push through reality's hesitance to meet your expectations (getting that new job, going back for that PhD, etc). It seems to me that there are cases where self-betterment is actually enabled by discomfort or a moderate amount of suffering, for in this, one finds motivation to alter his situation. However, this being said, I feel that these sorts of objections may be a straw-man for a more complex and nuanced philosophical view.

The truth of the matter is, regardless of whether or not selflessness enables a more broad, profound sense of well-being, there are certainly many occasions for myself where "selflessness" has encouraged a deeper sense of momentary well-being. And there are still other occasions in which I first thought of myself rather than a loved one or even complete stranger, and ultimately regretted doing so.

If for these reasons alone, I will engage in selfless service to my friends, loved ones, greater community, and complete strangers over the next 2 months. During month one, I will attempt to volunteer my time at least 2 times a week to a yet to be decided upon goal (perhaps volunteering at my CSA, doing the all the dishes and all the cleaning in the house, giving my wifey inordinate amounts of massages, etc). In the time that I'm volunteering, I will attempt to do so without serious concern for any inconvenience or discontentment that I may be inclined to feel during the process. ... sighs to self ... the wifey is going to enjoy these next 2 months WAY too much.

I'll see you next time readers. Same skeptic time. Same skeptic channel.

Secular Ceremony - A Marriage Story

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Fri, 06 Aug 2010 21:51:00 +0000

Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam... Ok. While I'm no Prince Humperdinck, I was recently married. My marriage and the work my new wifey and I put into it has spurred a lot of thoughts.

At the reception after our marriage, a friend of mine told me a story about his brother. His brother, presumably a secular atheist/agnostic, chose to have his wedding in a Catholic church. When my friend asked his sibling why he had chosen a religious setting for his big day given his non-religious leanings, he answered, "I want my wedding to be a spiritual event and you can't get that in secular weddings."

After I recovered from my mind-gasm from all these Skeptual buzzwords (agnostic, atheist, spiritual, secular...I had shivers), I began to consider this sentiment. I've heard this idea echoed by many and it is not limited to weddings. Births of children, teenage rites of passage, initiations into groups, and of course, weddings are all important moments in our lives. Since these meaningful events are painted with largely religious backdrops, I understand why the average secularly-minded or non-believing Joe may be inclined to exchange a ceremony that has a little more personal meaning for one to which his family, friends and community may relate.

Below, I've listed what I feel to be some of the most pertinent considerations my wifey and I contemplated; then, I list the alternative we chose. Since I, in no way, wish to denigrate how others choose to commemorate important moments in their lives, I've tried simply to draw attention to the aspects of my ceremony that were particularly meaningful to me.

1) "Leave it to the Professionals" - Many of people's most beloved ceremonies happen once in a life time. As the great sage Eminem once said, "you only get one shot." There are a lot of moving parts to a ceremony and one wants to be certain s/he is in good hands. Religious officiants know their job and they perform it well; wouldn't it be better to be safe than sorry on the big day?

Alternative:

To lead our ceremony and help us with its creation, the wifey and I chose a close personal friend. We chose someone who shared our values and vision for the wedding, but who also had a kind-hearted, openness in demeanor that was so important to us for this role. The connection we share with this person made the process so much more meaningful than if we were to have chosen an unknown.

To be an officiant is a tough role and I don't believe just anyone could pull it off. Our friend speaks both french and english (important since my wife and her family are Frenchies). He is well-spoken, relatively comfortable presenting in front of crowds, and was willing to put in months of work into the ceremony with the wifey and me.

2) "Family Resemblance"- While there is a plethora of traditions - and thus ceremonies - one of the things that gives a ceremony meaning is that, to a certain extent, it feels familiar. If all the wedding ceremonies were lined up next to each other, one would notice a family resemblance. This sense of familiarity facilitates the community's emotional connection with the words and actions happening in front of them. Stray too far, and you risk losing the community.

Does Johnny 5 have an illegitimate son?

Alternative:
We were highly sensitive to the diversity of backgrounds present at our wedding. While we wanted a ceremony which represented us and our values, we needed to create something to which the members of our community could relate. We took the basic structure for a ceremony from the book "Promises to Keep" (highly suggested for secular and religious alike) and adapted it to our particular goals. We then spent months creating content with our officiant. Those months of preparation, I believe, were pivotal to how much emotional weight the ceremony held.

Rather than having someone tell us what our ceremony should be, we spent days talking about each paragraph written. "What does the invocation mean to us?" "What will this statement mean to our community?" "How best do we recognize the people and values that are important to us?"

The forethought that went into it created a huge sense of personal buy-in for each of us. This was more than a day we said vows in front of our friends and family; this was a presentation of ourselves, our values, and our months of effort. With brainstorming and reflection, we were able to make a ceremony that - imho - was creative and resonated with people.

3) "Location, Location, Location" - For those who were religious in a past life, hosting a ceremony in a religious space holds a sense of the sacred. Since we want to imbue meaning into our special moments, a religious space - an already sacred and spiritual environment - sometimes seems like the obvious choice.

Alternative:
The space we chose for our wedding, a small village where the wifey's mother lives, is a place where the wifey and I have spent many vacations with friends and family. By sharing the space with a slightly wider audience, it extended in the intimacy we usually share with a smaller group to our extended community. The location added immensely to the importance of the day.

Creating the Sacred Secular

After my friend told me about his non-religious brother's religious wedding, he said that he wished his brother could have witnessed our wedding. "I think he would have changed his opinion. Your wedding was secular but very spiritual; it felt sacred." My new wifey and I felt very much the same way. If I may paraphrase an insight first made by Austin Dacey: the typical sense of the sacred comes from a vertical relationship with a higher power. This, however, is not the only sense of the sacred we may attain. There is also a horizontal sense of the sacred; a sacred, a spiritual, that comes from our relationships with each other.

Throughout much of what I've said above, I've made reference to a person's community. Community, friends and family are as much the purpose of a ceremony as witnesses of it. We gather the people we care about together to ask them to recognize us, to ask them for support, and to communicate to them their importance in our lives. In a marriage, we gather the community of both parties so that they may, at least symbolically, become one. In my wife's and my ceremony, we did as much as we could to facilitate this fusion of community; the fact that our friends are now friends, in many ways reinforces our commitment to each other and instilled the ceremony with a deep sense of sanctity.

The secular sacred, though perhaps elusive, does exist. Whether in a marriage ceremony or a teenage rite of passage, we can commemorate the meaningful moments in our lives in ways that resonate with our personal beliefs and communicate that to our communities considerately and respectfully.

For those who may be interested in parousing through our ceremony, please click on the link. It requires a password, so please simply email me if you are interested.

**I'd like to give a special thanks to those people who were a part of our wedding. You're presence and participation really did make it a life-changing event.

Prayer: Thanks, Goal-setting, and Story-telling

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 22:26:00 +0000

The day behind me has been long. I stand, tired and quiet, looking out toward the Manhattan skyline and embrace the pleasure of a soft breeze. The diverse array of individuals around me have come for the same reasons as I - a little quiet, a perfect view, and to spend time with friends and loved ones - and from the smiles on their faces, I can only assume they share my feelings. This group of strangers, men and women from a spectrum of different ethnic and cultural backgrounds, face a common vision and simply exist in peace. The relaxation of a deep breath washes over me, a sense of contentedness fills me, and I say a short, descriptive prayer: "Thanks".

"Thanks" is often followed by an object: "thank you," thank god," etc. Most of the time, I like this. I don't simply want to describe a state of being, "I am grateful;" I like my gratitude flowing outward from my mental space towards a recipient. However, sometimes there is no a recipient to be found. Who do I thank for a sunset or a cool breeze? Who do I thank for a fortuitous chain of events untouched by human design? When no single entity is responsible for good fortune or positive feelings, I am left with a present, of sorts, and no one to acknowledge for it. This is one benefit believers have that I sometimes miss.

During my practice over the past month and a half, "Thanks" has been one of the three main types of prayers I have offered. When I've been conscious of a state of appreciation, I have stated it out loud. I've enjoyed this simple acknowledgement if for no other reason that it seems to change my short-term perspective. In the few moments following the prayer, I interpret my life through a lens of gratitude. Despite the lack of a direct recipient for that appreciation, the small "nod of my head" to the uncaring cosmos still brightens my day.

Story-telling and Goal-setting
In the morning, while showering, I talk to myself (*writer admits insanity). I tell myself the story of my week or of my day. I confide my fears and concerns for my life, recount my hopes for the days ahead, and try not to linger on either. I ask myself what I would do if I were a more mature, "enlightened" version of me; I talk to myself as though I am that more mature, "enlightened" me, imagining what it feels like to assume the role. I set goals and ask myself to hold me accountable.

I engage in the process out loud, since to leave the words unspoken often transforms the process into daydreaming and introspection. This is, perhaps, the hardest part for me. Holding my concentration on what I'm saying ... I already know the story. I don't know if this process brings me any closer to the "me" I want to be, but it can feel good to talk to someone who understands me (most of the time). :)

All That being said ...
Praying seems to turn my meaning-maker machine on full blast. As I talk to myself in the morning, I search for things that tie together the stray threads of my life. This by itself is not problematic, but because of this, I sometimes find myself granting meaning to insignificant things. If I have a simple disagreement with someone at work, for example, I end up wondering "what that disagreement will mean in the greater context of our professional relationship." That simple question posed to myself during morning prayer, and ultimately left unanswered, becomes a gray hue to the background of my day. I often find myself lending undue weight to the minutia of life where I could have expended my mental energy elsewhere.

On the other side of the scale, prayer also leaves me attempting to interpret, "the bigger meaning of life", which as Julia Galef recently pointed out, has some inherent false assumptions. Life doesn't always have meaning. Sometimes, piles of metaphorical feces happen, and we adjust. While I strongly believe in weaving meaning into my life and making choices that fit into that pattern, I am unsure whether a daily self-discussion on the global meaning of life is fruitful toward attaining overall goals...

I want my attempts to create daily meaning through prayer to neither cause me to fret over the small things nor impede my own action by waiting to puzzle out the big things. In this cosmic drive through, I'd like one order of the Buddhist middle path without the side of superstition... go heavy on the mustard.

July:
As noted in my first articles, I will not be adding new practices during the month of July. As this is the case, I will most likely not be writing during that time either. If all goes as I hope, readers should receive a new slew of articles in August.

Talking to Mysel ... Praying

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Wed, 12 May 2010 16:53:00 +0000

Disclaimer: I will be approaching this article a bit differently from those I've done so far. Typically, when I begin an article, I have at least some sense of where I am going with it; if I have not yet drawn some conclusion, I think more or talk to more people. This time, I don't know my destination. In this article, you will journey with me towards my conclusion ... if there is one to be reached. Please fasten your safety belts and put your seats and tray tables in their upright and locked positions as we prepare for takeoff.

What does it mean to pray?
Almost everyone I've asked this question to has zeroed in on a similar definition in under a minute. "Talking to God." No one talks about ideation on personal behaviors and attributes of the divinity as Maimonides or Aquinas might propose; even when pushed in this direction, most respond, "You can ideate on stuff if you want, but thats not what normal people do when they pray." Apparently, everyone just wants to have their thoughts heard by the bloke presumably responsible for life, the universe and everything. So this leaves me in a sticky position. I can either ...

A. Talk to God as though he's there.
However, if I asked almost anyone alive today to pray to Zeus, s/he could not do so without feeling disingenuous. An a-zeusist does not pray to Zeus because s/he does not think Zeus is there to hear; it would seem ridiculous. What I have found it extremely difficult to make "believers" understand is that I am not running from God or rebelling against God. I simply see no evidence of his existence. That being said, perhaps I just need to suck it up and pretend.

B. Reinterpret what God is in a naturalist light.
I could repaint God as nature or love or perfection, personify those ideas, and have a conversation with my anthropomorphic metaphor. While I resonate more this line of thinking for its ability to stay within the bounds of naturalism, most people with whom I speak seem off-put by my use of metaphor. "Well, if you don't think its real, it kind of loses meaning doesn't it?" Perhaps.

C. Think of prayer as introspection, and bugger the rest of you.
While theologically speaking, I would be well within the bounds of what believers SHOULD be practicing theologically speaking, the heady approach seems disconnected from what people actually do. Since the purpose of Skeptuality is to take actual spiritual practices and consider them in a secular, skeptical perspective, I'm not sure I would not be serving my stated goal in ignoring what most people do.

So, let's put this question on hold to consider another question.

What do most people pray about?
Friends and family have been kind enough to talk to me at length on this topic. For the most part, it seems simple enough. People pray for strength and patience if they are having a rough day, as a form of gratitude for something pleasant in their lives, for themselves or others as a response to sickness or unfortunate, undesired happenings, or just to talk about their day to a loving listening ear. I can't say that I don't envy this.

Who wouldn't love to have a non-judging, loving ear for every worry or woe. The idea of someone to share all of your happiness at a moments notice or better yet, some benevolent benefactor who has gifted you with every happiness you possess, is a lovely idea. I can see why people like it...

I'm truly not sure what I will decide upon. At the moment, I've tried all of the following.

Telling the story of my day as if to an audience of 1 or more people...but in my head. I talk about where I could have done better and the things of which I am proud.
Picturing personages, fictional and non, I admire and asking their advice - the "What Would Jesus Do" approach transformed into "What would Sagan Do?" or "What would Albus Dumbeldore Do?" ... While I feel like a crazy person, I like talking to Carl and Albus :)
Talking to my "heart". This is an idea put forth in the Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo and even as a non-religious person, I love the metaphor. Continuing in conversation with a part of me more in touch with my deep desires and well-being than my conscious mind.

Yet, all of these feel a bit forced. I'm not sure what to do. Perhaps the feeling will change with time...We shall see.

I don't believe I will come to a final conclusion without further consideration. In the meantime, I have put a poll in the right hand column. Please take time to vote ... I will do my best to listen to the reader feedback.

Until next time prayer fans!

Empathy, Evolution, and Evidence: A Response to Kami

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Mon, 10 May 2010 06:14:00 +0000

In response to a recent post, a new reader posted a lengthy comment with some thoughtful questions and observations. Rather than responding to her in the comments, I figured I'd share our discussion with all readers.

Hi Kami,

I truly appreciate your well thought out response, especially given your finals.

With my Top 5 Strategies article, I was feeling a bit playful and perhaps came off a bit too harsh...the dog analogy was most likely a poor choice in hindsight. That being said, tactice #2, listed below for reference, is one I use often.

Despite resistance, sometimes Bobby the boss just thinks it's REALLY important to communicate how Obama is a muslim loving, socialist, Ant-Christ or, worse yet, an atheist. In this case, I go all Socrates on his ass! I'm like, "Really? That's interesting. Why do you think that Obama wasn't born in the USA? Do you feel like Glen Beck is a reliable source given his open aggression against the current Commander and Chief? What would it take to convince you that Barack-o-rak isn't a 'commy-lovin' dictator trying to sell us to Red China'?"

This, I believe, connects with what you reference when you made a call for empathy. I couldn't agree more with you that empathy will be our "saving grace" in this pluralistic society. However, sometimes, because our assumptions are so different, we have to first ask a lot of questions in order to understand (intellectually) the POV of the other so that we may understand the person (emotionally). Socrates, essentially the inventor of this method and of philosophy, has been one of my heroes for a long time.

You state:

"Although there are definitions in which I think searching and the definition itself are not mutually exclusive properties... atheism is not one of them. You cannot claim that no God exists while simultaneously searching for the possibility that one MAY. It is not fallsifiable. )"

So, I haven't really written about, to my recollection, my full stance on atheism, agnosticism, etc. I am both an atheist and an agnostic (not contradictory I assure you). As you point out, the "God" claim is not falsifiable. So, epistemologically, I am an agnostic: I cannot know. However, the question then has to be posed: how does one act with a lack of knowledge.

The traditionally religious choose faith (ie. belief not based on evidence). As an atheist (a - theos = without god or godless), I choose disbelief. I make this choice based upon probability. The more precise one gets in his/her God claims, the more strongly atheistic I become because those claims gravitate towards the falsifiable and inevitably the falsified. The more fuzzy one is with God claims, the less falsifiable and the less I have to say ... generally.

To your questions:

1)What are our origins? If you believe evolution is the answer...what are the flaws in that argument?

I do believe in evolution. While I was not properly educated in Evolution throughout my schooling (being raised in a small Christian town in the south, not a lot of opportunity), I have since read much on the matter which seems supremely reasonable.

However, I am not a scientist. If the science community were to turn around tomorrow and say, "We got it wrong guys. Evolution is not how it all happen." I'd say, "Ok, Great! One more false theory out the window." I put my trust in the scientific process because it is self-correcting. What the experts tell me after having fought it out between themselves I will take as truth (with a small 't') until more information comes to light.

2) If religion IS the opiate of the masses.... (and it might be)....instead of turning a nose towards those who are in the midst of the seemingly cult-like behavior.... ask yourself WHY DOES IT INNATELY FEEL GOOD AS A HUMAN TO PARTICIPATE IN SUCH ACTS?

It does feel good to engage in Cult like behavior. We spent most of our evolutionary history in small tribes competing for resources. The ancestors which best succeeded were most likely those that had a clearly defined in-group/out-group behavior. But just as our intellectual pursuits have given us technology to overcome physical limitations (glasses, wheelchairs, hearing aids, etc) so do they give us philosophy to overcome our psychological and social limitations (prejudice, intolerance, etc).

3)Where is the empirical evidence that God does NOT exist?

One cannot have evidence of non-existence. All one can proffer is non-evidence or falsified "evidence". If we look back through history, we are left with nothing but falsified claims and unfalsifiable, subjective claims. As I mentioned earlier, in lack of evidence, I choose not to believe.

4) If mankind is imperfect and fallible, why can you not hold the bible, torah and other religious books on the same level that you hold books of empirical science?

All these religious texts individually claim to be inerrant work of a perfect being. Thus, only ONE of them could potentially be right given their disagreements. Furthermore, all of them are fraught with internal inconsistencies and historical inaccuracies...ie. not perfect.

Science is sometimes inaccurate and often steps back from its initial claims only to postulate another claim. This is not a fault; its a feature. Science makes not claims at perfection..just at an ever advancing search for truth (again, little "t"). It is for these reasons...plus lots of cool stuff its given us...that I trust science and not religious texts.

You are obviously a well studied, intelligent person and I am honored to have you as a reader and questioner. I encourage you to challenge me where you may find identify fuzzy, unclear thinking and I will do my best to either clarify my beliefs or alter them where needed. Looking forward to your comments.

Ps. I have begun reading your article called the "Atheist Manifesto and the Empirical Evidence that Proved I was wrong". When I finish, you'll most likely find me in your comments :)

A Note to all my readers: I have begun prayer...however strange and difficult it feels for me. I am, however, still working on the context under which I will be praying moving forward. Please feel free to leave your feedback for how I should pray, when I should pray, what I should pray about, and even who I should pray to (although this latter one by necessity will come with restrictions).

The Skeptual Om - A Skeptic Chants

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 17:09:00 +0000

A breath fills my lungs. As the exhale begins, a vibration spreads throughout my throat, chest, and face as a tone in the lower registers fills my audio space. The breath exhausts itself, the vibration ends, and I begin again. With each repetition, my consciousness holds both the sound and sensation more completely, allowing the other mental objects of my day to fall away. For the past two months, I have explored the practice of chanting and ruminated on its utility and implications in a broader skeptual practice.

Physical Experience
The physical experience described above feels similar in purpose to my yogic practice. In chanting, I engage in a physical activity as a means to gain focus and control over my mental process. I begin with a low "om" - not for its religious significance, but because the open "o" causes a deeper vibration in my chest and the "m", a vibration in my lips and throat. These physical sensations provide a focal point for my awareness and push out the noise in my mind. However, unlike in yoga, chanting not only focuses my attention but can also bring me into a trance-like state (def. 2 and 3 in the link).

After I have gained a bit of focus, I begin to chant various mantras (*discussed more below). The repetition of the mantras usually fall into a rhythm to which I start to sway, and the consistent intake of large breaths makes me a just bit dizzy. This rocking motion partnered with the slight disequilibrium is enough to detach my awareness from my physical surroundings. I end in a sense of calm.

The physical experience of chanting is interesting enough for it to be a goal within itself, but I like it for other reasons as well. Blurring the usually well-defined sense of "self" transitions well into my meditation practice. When I begin meditation without chanting, the first 5 to 10 minutes are a struggle to quiet my own process and clear my mind. When I chant before mediation, I sweep my mental space of all its noise. The room literally feels quieter than when I entered it and my meditation feels more focused.

Mantras and Meaning:
In order to kick start my chanting, I defaulted to two matras I had experienced in yogic and sufi practices:

"Om" or "Aum"- typically taken as a symbol for God in Yogic/Hindu practices
"la ilaha illa allah" - "There is no God, but God" or "There is no Reality, but Reality"

As described above, "Om" is something I still use for practical purposes. I enjoyed the mantra "La ilaha illa allah" physically (the focus on the hard "h's" and the open, almost guttural "a"), but could not comfortably continue despite its more moderate second definition listed above. In order to remain consistent, I needed a more secular recitatation. I began contemplating what my goals were for chanting and which mantras lent themselves well to those goals.

The word mantra means "instrument of thought." For me, repetitive recitation of a mantra is a tool allowing me to explore a concept not only intellectually, but emotionally. It familiarizes me with how that concepts "feels" with the goal of putting that into practice or using it as a backdrop for my actions. For example, if I were to chant a mantra about empathy or love, I would not only think about what those concepts mean rationally, I would also fill my mind with those feelings.

I chose to search for mantras in latin and greek for practical and ideological purposes. Practically, reciting a mantra in another language permits a slight disconnect from the concrete association with a precise meaning one might have in his own language. This disassociation facilitates contemplating the mantra in a larger, perhaps more creative context. Ideologically, latin and greek are the languages of the enlightenment and western philosophy. If secularism and skepticism have a lineage, it is traced back through these languages and cultures. Choosing these languages pays homage to my intellectual forefathers and reminds me of the rich tradition from which I come.

While I have not yet settled upon a set of mantras, I have recently begun chanting two that I quite like: "Carpe Diem" and "E Pluribus Unum". At first, I felt a bit silly chanting something I might find on coinage or in a Robin Williams movie. However, the implications of what these phrases mean and the perspective they allow feel consistent with my goals for skeptual practice. "Seize the day" calls for a sense of urgency to living and an attentiveness to every moment. "Out of many, one" acts as a reminder of my place in the cosmos as a single part of a larger, more complex system of communities, cultures, societies, and ecosystems, itself a part of a yet larger planetary and galactic system. Both mantras underline the need for clear intent and perspective in daily actions.

Perspective on Skeptual Practice
In the paragraphs above, I've made statements about what chanting should be helping me do: "a tool to allow me to explore a concept intellectually and emotionally," "facilitation of putting certain concepts into action," etc. As a skeptic, I should be asking myself whether the practice is serving its goal. This is a difficult question. For one, I doubt that chanting about "seizing the day" for a little less than a month will transform my daily perspective enough to actually do so. However, would chanting this or other mantras for a year or more bring me any closer to that goal? I imagine, alone, they could not.

This questioning brings me to a thought that has been developing in the back of my mind throughout these past four months. Engaging in a practice as a means to reach a subjectively measured goal is perhaps a slightly flawed perspective. I do not mean to say that people who engage in spiritual/skeptual practices will not see significant results. What I do mean to say is, it is the person that makes the practice, not the practice that makes the person. Two people engaging in the same practice might receive entirely different results, not because any flaw in the practice, but because how each person connects with the practice and the perspective they take on it.

Imagine I begin chanting and meditating every night for the next year in the goal of gaining a greater ability to concentrate, a greater sense of moment-to-moment awareness, and a more compassionate approach to my fellow creatures. At first, I might see improvement because, in the novelty of the practice, my thoughts are constantly on my goals; the practice changes my perspective throughout the rest of the day by acting as a reminder of my aspirations. Then, after becoming accustomed to the practice, it becomes just one of the many things I do: I eat, I go to work, I chat with friends, I meditate, I chant. If I do not actively attempt to hold my desired perspective, then no amount of meditation or chanting will be effective. I will be failing the practice, not the other way around.

In thinking of these practices in causal terms - "if I chant, then I will be a better human being" - I take the focus off of my responsibility in the endeavor. I pop my skeptual pill and my condition should get better. If on the other hand, I think of these practices as a mneumonic device, a tool to remember my goal, the focus remains on my responsibility to act on a daily basis and use that tool in the most effective way.

Top 5 Strategies to Talk About Beliefs

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 19:29:00 +0000

I recently received this question from a reader:

"How [do] you deal with the sheer uncomfortableness of expressing your views around people who don't agree with you, and look down upon you for it?"

Since I haven't posted for the past couple of weeks, I figured this would be a good chance for me to kick myself back into blogging. First let me say, it is never easy to deal with someone who condescends to you in a way that doesn't involve the raising of strategic fingers. This problem is amplified several times over when that condescension has basis in a system of ideas that you find blatantly wrong/ridiculous AND which is also protected by social taboo. To a certain extent, it simply takes realizing that the discomfort is unavoidable and brushing it off as much as possible. It does get easier over time

Top 5 Strategies to Talk About Beliefs
Discourse about belief systems is like a tricky, multi-headed canine; to tame the drooling brute often takes a situationally dependent, several pronged strategy:

1) Throwing a stick and sneaking away while fido frolics after it.

While I never enjoy avoiding a good discussion, there are a small handful of cases where I think it is necessary to throw a metaphorical smoke bomb and ninja myself out of the convo. For example, I don't talk religion or politics with supervisors/anyone responsible for evaluating my work performance. Its simply not a good strat for getting that bonus or keeping one's job; the benefits don't outweigh the risks. Whenever possible throw a shiny object and hope that they're distracted while you make your escape.

2) Scratching Fido behind the Ears

Despite resistance, sometimes Bobby the boss just thinks it's REALLY important to communicate how Obama is a muslim loving, socialist, Ant-Christ or, worse yet, an atheist. In this case, I go all Socrates on his ass! I'm like, "Really? That's interesting. Why do you think that Obama wasn't born in the USA? Do you feel like Glen Beck is a reliable source given his open aggression against the current Commander and Chief? What would it take to convince you that Barack-o-rak isn't a 'commy-lovin' dictator trying to sell us to Red China'?"

Showing genuine interest in a person's ideas tends to work for a number of reasons: it's flattering to have someone show interest in you; it keeps the focus on them and off of you; and it makes them think about their basic assumptions. With any luck, you might get the wheels turning enough for them to reconsider their position. In the worse case scenario, you'll have some more silly ideas to add to your ever-growing list and a good story to share with friends over drinks

3) Learn to speak Canine

Co-worker Carrol may simply take it for granted that everyone is a 3rd generation 1934 RCUS Presbyterian. Her beliefs system permeates her language and statements like "praise the Lord", "God will watch over us", and "Dear 8 pounds 6 ounces... new born infant jesus," flow out like holy water from the Pope's kitchen sink. This may even be a harder situation than Boss Bobby because Carrol doesn't realize she's putting forth ideas worth challenging.

When this happens to me, my brainy-brain turns on the ole religious translation tool (RTT). When she say's "I'm praying for you," RTT says, "I'm concerned for and will be thinking about you." When Carrol say's "God will help you through this," the RTT works its magic and I hear "Hopefully things will work out for you." I simply respond to the translations. "Thanks, Co-worker Carrol. I appreciate the sentiment. You're an OK gal!"

4) Bad Dog! No Treat!

It may feel uncomfortable to stare down the large fanged, snarling canine that is open discourse about bad ideas, but sometimes you just have to roll up the newspaper and slap doggy on the nose. "No, Vaccines do not cause autism!" "No, Homeopathy has absolutely no evidence behind it." "Absolutely NOT! We should not 'Teach the Controversy' between Intelligent Design and Evolution because within the scientific community, there is no controversy." I full-heartedly believe there are times when it is simply unethical to let a bad idea go unchallenged. Progress is stymied, lives are ruined, and people are hurt when open discourse cannot weed out nonsense due to social stigma; sometimes the frontal assault is the best method to tear down the taboo.

5) Poking Doggy with a Stick

There comes a time when you have to flip the game on ole fido and show him whose holding the doggy biscuits. If someone continues to confront me on my beliefs, I may begin a series of preemptive strikes as a counter attack. I will bring up belief discussion myself, explaining what I view to be the weaker/sillier aspects of his/her ideas. This is definitely not the best strategy since it can strain relationships and lead to unproductive arguments, but sometimes putting someone on the defense is enough to make him/her realize that his/her ideas are not unchallengeable. At the very least, it may make the person think twice before speaking to you about the topic again.

A Journey of Disbelief (Part 2): Standards of Truth

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 17:08:00 +0000

A person's religion gives her/him more than just a set of beliefs in a sacred text. What that “more” is, however, was not readily apparent to me when I first found the freedom to doubt. It took being out of religion to recognize that I longed for something within it. My journey of disbelief has been, at least in part, a search for that “more”.

The first time I said, “I’m not a Christian”, my thoughts were not, “what am I losing?” but “look what I’ve gained!” With my disbelief, I gained the freedom to question anything and accept any answer from any source. I was liberated from the fear of eternal punishment for not accepting something I didn’t believe to be true. I gained the freedom to choose the code on which I based my actions, the complete responsibility of those actions, and perhaps the most thrilling acquisition, the ability to redefine that code if I realized it didn’t bring a desired outcome. I could act freely allowing my own sense of reason, unbridled by the traditions and conventions of my social microcosm, to determine what was right and wrong. Disbelief freed me.

Not far into my freedom, however, I recognized the first “more” religion had given me that I now had to provide for myself: a standard by which I could determine Truth.

The Standard of Truth:

Recognizing that one does not believe in "x" and knowing what to believe in place of "x" are very different things. From about age seventeen, I knew I didn't believe in the bible as the inerrant work of God. But, what did I believe? I didn’t accept the idea of “no god”. The Universe seemed to have too much order to lack an intelligent designer. I began pondering what type of god I could relate to.

My literature classes had exposed me to the transcendental, pantheistic God of Thoreau, Emerson, and Whitman and I quite liked the guy. For one, he was a large improvement on the God to whom I had been exposed all my life. The God who condoned oppression of women and issued eternal punishment for finite crimes was a grouchy, prejudiced father with whom I was ashamed to be seen at the supermarket. God as nature, interconnection, peace and love was a life-living, marrow-drinking woodsman that I wanted to be when I grew up. I liked this God, so I accepted him; it was a simple as that. In place of unquestionable dogma, I allowed unchecked speculation to determine my beliefs. "I like this therefore it is" became my unspoken creed.

In hind-sight, it seems blatantly obvious to me that one cannot base a truth claim (ie. "The Universe has an intelligent designer and it has x, y, z attributes) upon speculation or how favorable one finds the idea. For years, however, I accepted this as an epistemological methodology, or a way by which I could determine what was true. For example, I used to consider a close, personal connection I had with my best friend reason to believe there was something more at work in the universe than the laws of nature. My friend and I would finish each others' sentences, have the same pre-sentiments about various circumstances, and often find ourselves in the same serendipitous situations. "We're at the same place at the same time and we didn't even plan it; that can't just be coincidence." But that, by definition, is what coincidence is.

Enter Michael Shermer. In my last year of college, a fellow non-Christian (a game-changing self-identifier in Mississippi) lent me a book called "How We Believe." In this book, author Michael Shermer discusses a pattern-seeking feature inherent in all humans he calls "patternicity". Patternicity, or the tendency to find meaningful patterns in meaningless noise, causes one to jump to false conclusions if s/he neglects to implement a high standard of evidence. Shermer shows why it is not enough that one postulate about the nature of the universe without providing demonstrable support for his/her claims.

With Shermer's basic introduction to epistemology, it suddenly became clear to me that the standard for truth I had been seeking, is evidence. I had this wonderful "Duh" moment where I realized I could not force my desire for reality upon reality. I had to go out and look at what reality was telling me about itself or look to a qualified set of individuals who had done the looking for me.

I began reading popular science publications to answer questions I had been posing myself all along. If I wanted to understand interconnection, I would read sociology, psychology, and neuroscience. If I wanted to understand the story of our origins, I would read cosmology, evolutionary biology, and anthropology. In each of these branches of study, I would find not only answers, but clear, transparent descriptions of the methodology researchers used to come to those answers and an honest account of the questions they could not answer. This last part - owning up to what one doesn't know - is what struck me most in all my reading. Scientists, a group of people who were supposed to have the answers, seemed to revel most in the mysteries they could not explain and refused to provide an answer for those mysteries where they had none.

I slowly began to realize I could no longer, in an intellectually honest way, evoke "God" to explain order in the universe, the connection between individuals, love, serendipity, or any other such concepts. I realized that no matter how much I enjoyed the idea of an interconnected consciousness present in all of nature, there was nothing to support the idea.

I began trying on the identifier "atheist" to see how it fit. I could , for the first time, see myself giving up the idea of God for a set of much richer ideas: intellectual honesty, personal responsibility, and awe before a mysterious, perhaps largely unknowable universe. Nonetheless, the robe of atheism was still uncomfortable, not because it didn't fit me well, it fit perfectly, but because its colors made me stand out even more than I already did.

My aversion to taking on the title that best described me lasted for approximately one year. The story of that one year, and of my search for Community, will be the subject of an upcoming article.

3 Part Post: February Recap, Charity, and Chanting

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 04:00:00 +0000

If this project teaches me anything, it will be a deep respect for the devotion that some people have to spiritual and religious practices. Being able to pray five times a day, fast for a month or even go to church every Sunday, takes a sense of commitment that the storks apparently did not endow me with very much of at the baby factory. While I view Skeptuality to be one of my highest priorities, getting my act together enough to practice regularly and write out my thoughts has proven difficult at best. But I'll be derned if I don't go down without a mild, pathetic struggle. This post will come in three parts: 1) A recap of my experience during the month of February, 2) a discussion about the organization to which I will make my "charitable donation", 3) and my initial thoughts on my new practice, chanting.

Part 1: February Recap

Every person likes to think s/he is the definition of emotional depth and maturity; I am no different. I would, of course, like to think that I take life's lemons and turn them into beef stew. That, however, does not seem to be the case.

While looking through my observations for February, many of them communicated how simple it is for me to be in a bad, or at best neutral, mood. A few sincere concerns at work and an annoying head cold were enough to make me obsessively contemplate the pointlessness of existence. To top that off, the objective observation of my emotions that meditation had been teaching me only served to confirm my sense of "blah". "Well, existentially speaking, the universe is indifferent to your existence," I would say to myself in a disconnected way. Thanks, Meditation.

February brought to the forefront of my mind's playground a question that I would like to toss around a bit more during the month of March. Is developing the skill of disconnected observation of thoughts/emotions enough to help me foster happiness? TBD.

February Observations

Mood

Total # of Observations

Percentages of Total

Bad

27

32%

Neutral

21

25%

Good

37

43%

Total:

85

100%

Part 2: Giving and Receiving

The thing about making charitable donations is, it often requires money. Since benjamins - or washingtons for that matter - are not something I have in rampant supply, I needed to find an organization for which a small amount could still be meaningful. Enter shameless plug for my favorite organization, the Center for Inquiry | New York.

The Center for Inquiry (CFI) is a national outreach and advocacy group whose mission is "to foster a secular society based on science, reason, freedom of inquiry, and humanist values." Here in New York, the CFI provides educational lectures and social events to foster awareness about the Center's mission and to create secular community out of the hodge podge of atheists, agnostics, skeptics, and free-thinkers. Over the duration of this past year, the CFI has seen a continuous improvement in event attendance, joined a coalition called Reasonable New York, had a flurry of media attention, and begun to create a solid social infrastructure in which to welcome new-comers. Its a good season to be a secularist.

For the month of February, I will be donating a $20 student membership to my good friend and fellow volunteer Stephanie Leroy. Becoming a Friend of the Center will put Stephanie's name among the list of CFI supporters in all of our lobbying efforts, get her a discount to some cool conferences, and even get her a cool CFI lapel pin (someone's gonna be the envy of all the kids at school). If you would like to become a Friend of the Center or would like to donate a student membership, please contact me here.

Part 3: Chanting
For the month of March, I plan to chant at least 3 times per week before my daily meditation. I have to admit, I don't have a specific plan going into this. I have researched this practice far less than Yoga and Meditation, so I would really love feedback from anyone who has experience chanting. If you have experience chanting, when do you chant? What do you chant? What is your goal? What do you get out of the experience?

To begin, I will simply use a series of chants I've used during spiritual practices in the past. Over time, I hope to hone these to reflect ideas and ideals that are more meaningful to me as a secularist. I will write more on this practice once I've gone a bit further into it.
_________________________________________________________

On the Next Episode of Skeptuality: A Journey of Unbelief (Part 2) - Even more unbeliev-ier

A Journey of Unbelief (Part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 23:04:00 +0000

To begin, I would like to offer a brief disclaimer: I have no regrets about my past. I have a loving family who has always supported me despite our differences of opinion and my fears associated with their reactions to my unbelief. This article is not meant to offend or belittle, but rather to bridge gaps of understanding.

It is ironic to me that the story leading to the question of discussion - "Why am I a non-believer?" - began with the diametrically opposed question - "Why do I believe?" In the culture where I was raised, God's existence is as obvious as Christianity's monopoly on morality. In this setting, the subject of unbelief is seldom broached. To even begin questioning, one has to realistically entertain the possibility of ostracization from family, friends, and wider social circles; one has to imagine what his girlfriend will say, how his mother will cry, and the disappointment/dismay on his father's face. That I may so openly speak of my journey now brings into stark clarity the miles so far traveled.

Raised in a devout Christian family, I passionately explored my natural inclination towards philosophy through the lens of my beliefs. "Why is there suffering? What is the standard by which one determines what is good? What is truth and how can we know it?" I can remember discussing these questions - though not as clearly defined - at the age of 12 and 13 with my best childhood friend. During these discussions, we would use Christian terminology and biblical references to flesh out our arguments. Yet, I always found myself checking that the arguments were self-consistent and cohered to what I viewed to be obvious principles. From the beginning, my rational intuitions always seemed to me more pertinent than answers I could find in a book.

For example, my friend and I constantly debated equal rights. My friend would explain what he hoped would be the relationship between himself and his future wife. The consistent undertones of male dominance in his descriptions bothered me. I would ask on what basis he would be "the head of the family", and his simple response would be, "the Bible." This, of course, was the ultimate trump card. In a fundamentalist culture, one may ask what the bible means by a certain passage or even why God may have designed the world to be this way; however, one cannot truly question the authority of the bible. This demonstrated what I believe to be a very simple and detrimental message sent to every Christian child:

If you want to be a good boy/girl, the bible must take precedence over rational, ethical intuitions. "It's what the bible says," must be the final conclusion to any discussion.

The first time I asked "Why am I a Christian?" I must have been about 16. The question itself, merely a passing point in an evening conversation, fell like a seed to fertile soil - unnoticed at first, but slowly rooting itself deeper in my consciousness. As the months progressed, I would casually bring up the question to friends despite the moderate level of discomfort for both myself and those involved.

"If you were born in India or Pakistan, do you think you'd be a christian?" I'd begin. "If you were not, and a Christian were to come to try convince you that his religion was correct, why would you believe him? If you were not inclined to believe him merely because you had been raised in a different faith, would you go to hell?" I could never get past these last two questions. Through a simple comparison of religions, the grounds on which my faith was rooted began to shift. I realized I was only a Christian by an accident of birth. Why would someone with the same amount of evidence for his belief as I do for mine, accept my assertions of Christianity's validity? If I could not think of one good reason why someone of another faith would believe me - why did I believe?

These questions held both a sense of fear and importance for me. On one hand, I desperately wanted to know the truth, but on the other, I recognized warnings I had received all my life:

"Satan enters like a thief in the night seeking to kill, steal and destroy."

"The fool says in his heart, "There is no God." They are corrupt, their deeds are vile."

"Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

"Therefore having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."

There is a high value placed on believing without understanding, on simply saying "God works in mysterious ways" when something trips up or offends one's sense of logic. I knew that in asking to understand, I was not trusting in God as I was told to. Yet, how could I know that what I had been taught was true? How could I know that my religion and not some other religion was correct? And if the biases of my family and culture taught me that Christianity was the one true religion, and all other religions taught essentially the same thing, why would I believe that any of them were the one true religion? I was afraid to ask these questions and even more afraid of what the answers to these questions might mean.

One evening, I sat alone in my room repeating the same questions in my head I had been repeating for months. I had recently studied the concept of the "tabula rasa" - blank slate - and it had a particularly strong impact on me. That evening, I decided to try something new. I sat on my floor, took a deep breath, and said to myself:

Ok, imagine that you are starting off with a blank slate. Your plate is clear. You have nothing but the desire for truth."

(after another deep breath) "Ok."

Can you say that you believe in God?

... Yeah, I think so. I can look at the world and see that its pretty amazing. It seems plausible that something has guided it.

Ok. Fair enough. Can you say that you're a Christian?"

I sat there quietly with my slate more-or-less blank, and I could not think of a single, honest reason to fill it. I could not think of a single, honest reason why the religion of my culture and my family was truer than anyone else's or why Jesus held more validity than Mohammad. I could not think of a single, honest reason why a genuinely good person like Gandhi would go to a place of eternal torment merely because he was born in a country that practices the Hindu tradition. Despite my earnest desire to do so, I could not think of a single reason to fill my slate with anything resembling Christianity. So, I didn't. Instead, I sat there with a tabula rasa and began to ponder the vast possibilities with which I could fill it.

I was not yet a Skeptic nor an Atheist. Questions of how to think and what to believe took time to develop. At this point, I simply could no longer claim to be a Christian and feel honest with myself. I have, since, looked for reasons to justify Christian beliefs or simply tried to accept the claims of Christianity without question (ie. "faith"). But reasons have never been sufficient and faith is nothing more than believing something to be true because one wants it to be. This, however, will be the topic of another day. For now, I leave my readers with some sincere questions:

If you are a believer in any particular religion, and you believe that your religion is correct and others are wrong, why do you hold this position? Can you offer any reasons for your belief that do not come from the book you are trying to support? I look forward to any answers either in the comments or through private message.

Weekly Check-in: Feb 15-21

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 05:57:00 +0000

As I mentioned in "A Walk with Walt", I will be doing weekly check-ins through the rest of the year. These will be short and sweet (much like my wifey) so as not to take away from the time I have for a longer article each week.

Observations:
I'm kind of going through a quarter-life crisis: dislike my job, concerned about the potential PhD program, feeling a bit disconnected, etc. This, partnered with a really busy week in terms of events, volunteering, and miscellaneous wedding planning, amounts to a lot of entries that you'd probably want a hefty-helping of Prozac to read. I'll spare you the emo-details:
- 19 observations (8 bad, 7 neutral, 4 good)
- Intensity of observations: 2 - 6

Meditation:
Staying awake during meditation this week was rough. As I mentioned above, things have been busy and by the time I sit down in the evening, I'm only able to stay awake for another 10 to 15 minutes for meditation.
- 5 meditations
- 1.2 Thoughts Per Minute (TPM) Average

Yoga:
30 minutes of yoga doesn't seem to be enough to hit the post-yoga euphoria I love so much, but I honestly don't know when I'd fit an hour of downward facing dogs and tree poses into my week. I plan to get some type of instructional video to give my practice a bit of structure. Any suggestions from the blogosphere?
- 2 sessions (between 20 and 30 minutes each)

Feedback needed: What do you think of the above format? Any suggestions for spicing it up? Would you prefer for it to be shorter and even more to the point or is it an ok length? Critiques are welcome.

Things to Come: A Walk With Walt

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:22:00 +0000

Walt Whitman was known for his unbridled, unabashed love of life. He found nature itself miraculous and beseeched us to do the same through his poetry. The works of Whitman were among the first I ever read indicating to me that nature is enough - and we need not diminish it by trying to add to it that which is not there. His sense of awe for every moment of every day is one that I hope to foster during this project.

As I go further into the year, my concept of skeptuality continues to evolve. As it does, I will expand the perspective and style of "Skeptuality", the blog, in an effort to make what I write reflect my thoughts of the practice. In this article, my friend, Walt, will help me present a list of upcoming changes.

1) Weekly Check-ins

"All faults may be forgiven of him who has perfect candor."

The first two weeks of February, I have seen my commitment to daily practices go down - not because I am less interested, but because life happens. I have not been as regular for meditation, I did not meet my twice a week commitment to yoga during week one and two, etc. If Walt is right, however, my faults may be forgiven.

Since I don't want my slacking to continue, I am implementing a new check-in rule. At the end of each week, I'll be obliged to write a short article resuming how many times I've meditated, how many times I've done Yoga, and the results of each. This will continue throughout the year as I add each new practice. My goal is to keep these practices high on my priority list through good ole' guilt and peer pressure....a sort of secular confessional. Be sure to chastise and shun me for my failures :)

2) Personal Story of Disbelief

"I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content.
One world is aware, and by the far the largest to me, and that is myself,
And whether I come to my own today or in ten thousand or ten million years,
I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness, I can wait."

I have often failed to heed the wise words of Mr. Whitman, and rather than simply "existing as I am", have felt the need to justify myself for being a non-believer. This has been particularly strong with my family who, for the most part, are all practicing Christians. While I have had the good fortune of having a caring, supporting family, I have never quite felt they understood my transition from a young preacher's son to an "End of Faith" totin', miracle denyin', atheistic, skeptic. In a series of articles, I plan to tell my personal story of disbelief. I do so in an effort to "sit content".

3) Discussion of Philosophy

- "A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books."

Throughout my first few articles, I've alluded to my world-view as secular, skeptical and naturalistic. However, I have not yet fully addressed:

- Why Naturalism?
- Why Secularism?
- Why Skepticism?

I will not attempt to fully defend these intellectual stances because to do so would be, I believe, beyond the scope of this blog ... and because those who have done it before me have made the arguments so well. However, since a large part of Skeptuality is about determining my interactions with the world, I will discuss philosophy, and more specifically ethics, in future articles. Since most of my personal philosophy is founded on the precepts listed above, my first discussions of philosophy will present the most cogent arguments for these positions.

4) Debate

- "Have you learned the lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you? Have you not learned great lessons from those who braced themselves against you, and disputed passage with you?"

Every pivotal personal issue I have ever tackled has begun by or been facilitated by debate. The capacity to lay one's ideas bare to rational scrutiny and to take away from that experience only that which survives, is the root of intellectual honesty and personal growth. For these reasons, the blog will explore various skeptually related issues through open debate on the blog with friends and readers. However, this should not take away from the principal mission of Skeptuality - to chronicle personal, ritual practices from a skeptical position.

Other stuff may be changing too, but I'll keep those changes a surprise. It'll be like an episode of Lost; you'll all be like, "WOH, did not expect that sex change'!" But I've already said too much. I leave you, now, with one of my favorite verses, from one of my favorite poems, and submit that we should all beckon to Mr. Whitman's call.

Allons! to that which is endless, as it was beginningless,
To undergo much, tramps of days, rests of nights,
To merge all in the travel they tend to, and the days and nights they tend to,
Again to merge them in the start of superior journeys;
To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it,
To conceive no time, however distant, but what you may reach it and pass it,
To look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you—however long, but it stretches and waits for you;
To see no being, not God’s or any, but you also go thither,
To see no possession but you may possess it—enjoying all without labor or purchase—abstracting the feast, yet not abstracting one particle of it;
To take the best of the farmer’s farm and the rich man’s elegant villa, and the chaste blessings of the well-married couple, and the fruits of orchards and flowers of gardens,
To take to your use out of the compact cities as you pass through,
To carry buildings and streets with you afterward wherever you go,
To gather the minds of men out of their brains as you encounter them—to gather the love out of their hearts,
To take your lovers on the road with you, for all that you leave them behind you,
To know the universe itself as a road—as many roads—as roads for traveling souls.
- Walt Whitman ("Song of the Open Road" excerpt)

A Practical Guide to Meditation

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 23:24:00 +0000

Sitting. Breathing. Listening to the noises inside my own mind and doing my best not to be taken by them. This is the final 20 minutes of my day before I let my consciousness slip away to its own devices for the night. In this article, I'd like to discuss the practical aspects of my meditation practice and seek feedback from readers as to other potential methods.

I've now read three books on meditation, one of which I have found truly helpful: "Mediter au quotidien: Une pratique simple du bouddhisme" by Henepola Gunaratana. I believe the title in English is "Mindfulness in Plain English" but I have not been able to verify this; if it is not the same book, it is at least by the same author. Most of my techniques in meditation have come from Mr. Gunaratana and thus for a more thorough version of what I am about to convey, I suggest his book.

My Practice
Sitting: I sit on a cushion, itself on a relatively padded surface, in order to minimize any discomfort that may arise after an extended period of sitting. I take a half-lotus position because I am relatively comfortable doing so, but everything I've read indicates that any version of the lotus or simply sitting on one's knees is fine provided one can hold the position during the entire allotted time.

I avoid any type of back support because I find it makes me lazy and my mind seems to wander more. By engaging my back with my shoulders back and relaxed, I find my mind remains more awake. One thing Mr. Gunaratana mentions is to engage the back but not the abdomen, allowing the belly to relax. I have tried both and cannot see a significant difference for the meditation itself, but relaxing the abdomen does make the position slightly more comfortable to me.

Breathing: I begin by taking three deep breaths through the nose. My attention throughout the mediation remains on my nostrils, so these three deep breaths allow me to hone in on my focal point. Once focused on the sensation of the deeper breaths entering and exiting, I begin to breathe normally, keeping my concentration on the sensation.

There are 4 distinct sensations one feels on the nostrils that Gunaratana suggests one pay attention to: 1) inhalation, 2) the release between inhalation and exhalation, 3) exhalation, and 4) the slight retraction between exhalation and inhalation. Searching for these subtle sensations ultimately keeps my mind actively concentrated upon my nostrils, which otherwise are kind of boring. Not that my nostrils suddenly become Johnny-interesting - they're still just flaps of skin and cartilage, after all - but actively trying to sense something that one's mind usually ignores gives the mind a simple challenge.

Dealing with Distraction:
In attempting to concentrate on something that is about as intellectually stimulating as Paris Hilton's twitter feed, one readily finds things to distract; the question becomes, "how does one deal with distraction?" As I have already mentioned in a previous post, trying to avoid a thought only makes that thought harder, faster, stronger. There are ways to think about distractions to make them easier to detach from:

1) "That's interesting, but I'll think about that later. Right now, those nostrils are lookin' pretty dern intriguing." Allowing oneself to recognize a thought, acknowledge it, and refocus on breathing works about 50 to 60% of the time in my limited experience.

2)"3-2-1, 1-2-3, What the Heck is bothering me?" Like an unruly bar-hopper who just doesn't know how to take no for an answer, sometimes certain thoughts need to be bounced. Though counting may not have lowered Carl's blood-pressure, it does help to force out those unwanted thoughts. Mentally counting up to three during an inhale and down from three during the exhale, while still focusing on the sensation of breathing, eventually calms the mind enough for one to stop counting and return to just breathing. And returning to focusing on breathing is the main goal for the newbie.

3) "Where am I? How did I get here?" Far from being just something we say after a particularly fun night on the town, sometimes a thought/story will hijack one's consciousness and then leave it without so much as a paid ride home in a taxi. It is difficult to push out distraction if one does not even realize s/he is being distracted. However, rather than becoming frustrated after such a situation, it helps to simply note what one has been thinking, approximate how long one has been thinking it, and return to breathing. Associating distraction with failure ends up doing more harm than good.

All of these techniques (focusing on breathing, counting, analyzing distraction, etc) are tools to help rid oneself of distraction; they are merely training wheels. Simple, calm awareness, free from distraction, is the bicycle I'm trying to ride. While I believe that I'm advancing as a practitioner, let's just say I'm not yet ready for a BMX tournament.

In one of my upcoming articles, I'll be discussing the scientific studies looking at meditation and speculating as to the personal benefits I have seen. In the meantime, I do have a few questions: have any of the readers tried meditation? Do you focus on something other than breathing? I'm thinking about beginning to focus on a flame. Has anyone tried that or have experience with other points of focus? How do you deal with distraction? Any and all feedback is welcome.

Post-article note: I would like to formally apologize to my breathing. After actually having looked at Paris Hilton's twitter account, I can firmly assert that you are FAR more intellectually stimulating.

Findings: January Progress Report

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 16:12:00 +0000

Disclaimer: This blog has been known to use words like "spiritual" and "skeptic" within the same sentence..(case and point). Those who cannot entertain seemingly contradictory vernacular without brain-explosions should back away from the computer slowly. You won't want goo on your technology.

So, the month of January was a blast! We laughed, we cried, we did yoga. What more could a man ask for ... besides world peace, no more poverty or unnecessary suffering, or even a health-care system that the rest of the world doesn't mock us for ...(sigh)... now that I've sufficiently depressed myself, lets start the show.

At the end of every month, I will recap my "findings", briefly go over some of the observations and share how I'm thinking about them. This should be useful not only to give me some perspective on how I'm progressing, but also to show all 5 of my readers that I'm actually doing stuff, not just pretending.

In the following two tables, I've taken the 98 observations made about my mood over the past month, categorized them as good, bad or neutral, and placed them respectively in the morning or evening. In doing so, I've tried to determine if there is any tendency towards, for example, grouchiness in the AM or giddiness late at night. In the first table, I've listed the actual number of observations in each category, and in the second, I've listed the morning and evening observations as a percentage of the total bad/neutral/good.

Observations

Mood	Morning Observations	Evening Observations	Total # of Observations
Bad	8	12	20
Neutral	2	9	11
Good	25	42	67
Total:	35	63	98

Percentages

Mood	Morning Observations	Evening Observations	Total # of Observations
Bad	40%	60%	20
Neutral	18%	82%	11
Good	37%	63%	67
Total:	36%	64%	98

So the good news is that I'm in a pretty positive mood about 65% of the time. As shown above, there does not seem to be any tendency towards good or bad moods in any particular part of the day; the good/bad split is proportional to the number of observations in that given time frame. In the 11 observations of a relatively neutral mood, they are disproportionately in the evening. I'm not sure why. However, with only 11 observations, it'd be a bit too early to take this seriously enough to attempt an explanation for it.

Bad Moods and Losses of Control:

One of the primary interests of this project is to recognize what puts me in a bad mood or causes me to lose control. In meditation, for example, one practices being aware of thoughts in order to place them properly in a larger context. The assumption here is that when we are in a bad mood or negatively lose control, we have fixated on an idea and could release ourself of this fixation if we'd only take a step back. In analyzing my observations, I have tried to categorize the things that bring me to an undesirable mental space so that I can ground myself when those situations arise. Otherwise said, I want to know myself a bit better so I can stop acting like an A-hole.

During the entire month of January, I only noted 4 losses of control (LOC). Now, I suspect that I lost control slightly more often than this, but I only made 4 written observations. The LOCs were either losses of temper or an inability to turn off obsessive negative thinking. Each of these happened in the late evening; like many people, I seem to be more of a grouch when I'm tired. Only one of the LOC's lasted more than an hour, in which case I obsessed over a negative thought for about 2 1/2 hours ... the entire time I thought, "Geez, Scott, get over it! You'r screwin' up your data!" I obviously have not yet mastered applied meditation.

My bad moods are fairly easy to categorize. I was either anxious about a situation (7 observations) or simply rejecting the situation because ... well ... because I'm a whiny baby (13 observations). 15 of the observations had to deal with negativity around relationships (professional, personal, etc) and 5 of them were circumstantial. My keywords for bad moods seem to be "frustrated", "anxious", and "stressed". Full-out anger or sadness do not seem to be significant issues for me.

The thing about making mood observations is that one quickly realizes how trivial "bad moods" are. "She asked me to do the dishes when I didn't want to do the dishes and I was doin' stuff that I wanted to do and she's a big meany-head who believes in equal distribution of domestic responsibility and WAH WAH WAH!" I look back and think, "did I really get into an argument over that? What am I, five?"

Good Moods:
The trivial nature of my good moods also strikes me: listening to Carl Sagan or Neil de Grasse Tyson speeches, singing along to good music, or thinking about writing. All these things are apparently enough to put me in a total state of elation. I'm like a puppy who rolls over with his tongue out every time someone scratches him on the belly. A part of me thinks, "I'd like to be deeper than that; I want to require fine dining or independent cinema in order to feel truly fulfilled." But the other part of me says, "Hey! A good mood is a good mood. Give me my milk-bone and let me roll in the dirt."

My life, of course, has more meaning than what I can write down in two sentences during any given observation, but I suppose there is something to be said for the little pleasures. For quite some time, I closed any personal emails with the following phrase:

"Don't forget the little smiles...they have the potential to become bigger."

This is still true for me. The little smiles - those that cost almost nothing and come into existence without a second thought - are those that sustain us. Listening to "Pale Blue Dot" or "They Might Be Giants" might not amount to anything significant in the grand scheme of my personal story, but such smiles will be the fuel that push me onward toward the bigger smiles.

I wish all my readers an abundance of big - and little - smiles. This puppy is now going to go chew on the sofa.

Yoga and the Skeptic: A Romance

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 13:21:00 +0000

Yoga and I have a mixed history that started about 7 years ago. It's like any other love story really - boy meets spiritual practice, practice meets boy. We started hanging out in college; we'd see each other twice a week or more; the relationship really felt like it was growing. Then, as often happens, it started to change. I would forget to show up when I was supposed to, I'd lose interest, or little things would start to bug me. For example, in this most recent Yoga-fling of many, little statements have been made like, "this twist will really clear out the 'toxins' and open your heart energy." There I am in reverse-warrior like, "Really, Yoga? Do we really have to talk about 'toxins' and 'heart-energy'? Would you care to define your terms for me?" My desire for unambiguous communication inevitably gets the better of me.

Progressing past the limits of poor personification, there is an almost direct correlation between how imprecise and fuzzy the language of an instructor, and how soon I will leave the class. It's not that I have a problem with imagery. Imagining a ball of energy sliding from the base of my neck down my spine in downward-facing dog does, in fact, help me to focus on the posture without whining about aching, shaking muscles. The key here, however, is that the energy-ball is imaginary. There are no chakras or subtle bodies accessed through these movements, as far as scientific evidence can purport. If one chooses to make claims about "energy" based upon speculation and imagination, s/he immediately puts the veracity of every other statement into question. I begin to doubt simpler, more plausible claims such as, "these series of movements will help with blood circulation."

Yet, despite my slightly dogged attachment to clarity of language, I am always drawn back in to Yoga as though not quite capable of hitting escape velocity. Deliberately linking breath to movement, the focus of yoga, has this wonderfully meditative affect which forces me to concentrate on the immediate present without being taken by obsessive thoughts, flighty emotions, memories or projections of the future. When I practice Yoga, I have this sense that "I" exist here and now. Where classic meditation sometimes fails to hold my attention due to inaction or boredom, Yoga demands consistent focus. I leave the Yoga class with a sense of peace and a positive outlook that lasts a minimum of two to three hours.

Practitioners of any path tend to use certain metaphors in their practice which they then apply to everyday experience; those used in Yoga are simple enough to connect with a wide variety of backgrounds and ideologies. Working through the tension in my body and experiencing it without judgment pours over into a general view towards tension or difficulties in life. Attempting to maintain balance by seeking proper grounding becomes applicable to both physical and emotional phenomenon. Dedicating a day's practice to someone or something calls on the practitioner to fill his mind with gratitude and acts as a reminder to do so when he steps off the yoga mat.

These metaphors are, of course, subjective and may not connect with the process of every practitioner; each person is ultimately responsible for the story he tells himself. Nonetheless, one of the principal interests of a spiritual practice is to integrate how one thinks about that practice into a broader perspective. Ritual activities should, if nothing else, act as daily reminders of their stated goals; in the case of yoga: balance, openness, a calm, non-judgmental approach, etc. Spiritual, and in my case skeptual, practices weave meaning into the tapestry of life through a network of ideas, patterns, and perspectives. Yoga does that for me in a way that I have not often found elsewhere.

Yoga Method:
For the month of January, I have practiced Yoga at a minimum of once per week. I thought of doing more, but my body firmly disagreed when I attempted. During the month of February, I will:

Escalate my Yoga practice to two times per week at least 30 minutes each
Summarize after each practice as I do for meditation
Attempt to measure the approximate length of time the post-yoga euphoria lasts (otherwise said, how long it takes me to start giving people nasty looks ;)

Do any of the readers have experiences with Yoga? If so, do you see a difference between an hour of Yoga and an hour of just regular stretching? What are those differences, if any?

FAQ: Well Founded Objections

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 22:55:00 +0000

After my third post, I had some friends and readers who expressed concerns with my methodology and choice of words. I think that their critiques are well-founded and I hope to correct/clarify a thing or three before moving forward.

- Are you trying to start a Secular Religion?
Well, though I enjoy being worshiped as much as the next guy ... no, I am not starting a secular religion. I am simply exploring traditionally religious concepts and practices, and seeing if I can find any secular meaning or benefit to them. If my personal process expands the perspective of other secularly minded individuals, great! If not, then this blog will have simply been a means for me to engage in my own personal story on a different level.

- How is Skeptuality "an evidence-based process"?

Well, in one way it should be informed by the evidence of various sciences (psychology, biology, neuroscience, etc). However, the statement alone may be misleading. I do not, in any way, intend to provide "conclusive evidence" that my life has been improved by various rituals and practices. As I have stated before, this is a "lay-experiment". The best that I can do is attempt to look at my own life as objectively as any individual can and come to a personal conclusion for how I will grow.

- Is the Skeptuality Project a true Science Experiment?

No. Absolutely not. It is not even a Scientific study (for the difference, see a basic answer and the more in-depth wiki-answer). There is no control group. Even with a control, one person is not nearly enough to extrapolate anything meaningful scientifically to the population at large. And it is definitely not objective by scientific standards. Ultimately, I'm just a guy trying to pay more attention to his thoughts and behaviors and explore spiritual concepts in a secularly meaningful way.

In my introductory post, I say "... I will explore spirituality from a naturalistic, skeptical perspective by committing myself to a series of spiritual practices and observing any changes in my own life as objectively as possible." When I say "objective" here, I meant to infer methodically (regular observations, reporting particularly strong emotional states, etc.); I do not mean objective by scientific terms ... I should have known that my fellow skeptics would be ... well, skeptical. That's why I love them!

Why don't you have a control? And why do you combine practices throughout the year?
If this were proper study, I would need a control of some sort - such as observation without any practice before diving into meditation, yoga, etc. In this way, I could compare between "something" and "nothing" to see the difference. If I wanted to demonstrate the efficacy of certain practices, I would need to partake in one practice, and one alone, during an allotted period to compare it to observations during another practice. So ya'll are thinking, "WTF, mate?"

Well, to answer this question, allow me to take you through my personal process and the questions I have posed myself.
1) What is the most I can confidently claim about "spiritual" practices considering the nature of my project?
The most I could ever say, given the aforementioned limitations of self-observation and analysis, is that I have felt growth and enrichment through this process and that my daily observations seem to reflect that.

2) Ok. Considering these limitations, what are your goals for this process?
As I wrote in my third post, I would simply like to see an overall "decrease in 1) frequency 2) intensity and/or 3) duration of negative moods" and an "increase [in] my awareness of my mental states and behaviors." I am less interested in the efficacy of any given practice and I am not looking to attribute the "results" of this project to any particular practice. If, in December 2010, I see a curve that slopes downwards for negative moods and another curve sloping downwards for my "thoughts per minute" during meditation, then I will consider the project a success.

3) Should I isolate each practice in order to determine the effects of each?
This would limit the scope and depth of this experience in several ways. If, for example, I were to meditate for 2 months, then switch to yoga for another two, I would not have enough time to become truly familiar with either practice. In order to "master" each practice, I would need a considerably longer period. If I limit myself to a year, I could either only engage in one practice - in which case you'd be hearing a lot about me sitting and breathing - or I could engage in several practices, adding one on top of the other progressively. Since it is impossible for me to claim anything meaningful scientifically about the effects of each practice, I'd rather not pretend as though I could. By engaging in practices in this way, I can explore them in a conceptually meaningful way while still staying true to my goal of tracking overall self-improvement.

4) Should I have a control of some sort?
Ok. So I'll admit, after hearing some of the objections to not having a control, I felt a bit like I had announced myself to the world and forgotten to put my pants on before doing so. It could have been interesting to administer a control by simply noting my moods for a month before actually engaging in any traditional practices. However, it ultimately would not have told me that much. The interest of such a control would be to note differences between "practice with observation" and "just observation" over the same length of time. Since I will be "practicing" for a year and would have been "just observing" for a month, I would have been comparing apples to fighter jets...or something like that.

I hope that this has helped to answer any objections readers may have. If not, I am sure I'll hear about it anyway ;)

We may now return you to your regularly scheduled programming. Expect my first impressions of Yoga in the next few days.

First Impressions: Skeptic Begins Meditation

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 05:18:00 +0000

Meditation, for me, feels akin to the classic white bear experiment. Tell someone to sit alone in a room and make his/her only task to NOT think of a white bear; every time s/he thinks of the white bear, the person needs to ring a deskbell. Before long, you'll have a line of concierges knocking at your door asking how they may serve you with an air of disdain in their voices.

Most beginner meditation books (and by "most" I mean the 3 that I've read so far) state that one is supposed to sit quietly and focus on just breathing, or just a flame, or just X. The undertone here, of course, is don't think of the white bear (ie. everything else). In any other situation, I feel like I can maintain a relatively solid level of concentration and attention. Ask me to sit quietly and concentrate on factor X, however, and I turn into a 2 year old with ADHD and a brand new crack-coated pacifier. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but not much.

Everything I've read thus far states that I should not reject any of my thoughts; I should simply greet them as old friends and then let them pass out of my mind. But the problem with old friends is that you always have SO MUCH catching up to do. I want them to stay a while, grab a cup of coffee, discuss existence with me. When a new thought crosses my span of attention, I run to it like it has a piece of candy and hang on its sleeve in case it has more.

Yet, despite my lack of concentration and my attachment to thought, I already see the enjoyment and the potential benefits of this practice. After meditating for only 15 to 20 minutes, I feel calmer and slightly less like my brain is running a marathon. This alone is a relief. I have begun to look forward to the period of time at the end of each day where I may literally just sit and breathe.

Meditation Method:
Starting from January 15th (first day of official data collection) I will regulate my practice a bit more than I have currently. I will:
1) Sit for 20 minutes per evening before preparing for bed.
2) Attempt to focus only upon my breath and my posture.
3) Click a tally counter every time that I have a thought enter my mind.

I will use a functional measure for "thought" that a friend of mine used in a similar lay meditation-experiment. When I asked him how he measured what a thought actually was, he responded, "I would click the clicker [tally counter] as soon as I noticed that I was no longer meditating for any period more than a split second. For example, if I was wrapped up in a memory, or heard my internal voice, or saw a sustained image and then noticed it, i would click the clicker. On the other hand, an instantaneous image that went immediately away I would not click for." From this method, my friend derived his rough thoughts per minute (TPM).

The two immediate short-comings of this method will be any potential distraction from the clicking process and the inability to properly measure how long one may have been caught up in a memory/story. However, since it is the best method I've heard proposed for measuring frequency and control of thought during meditation, it'll have to do. If any readers have alternative suggestions, let me know.

In coming posts, I'll further explore meditation, what it is and isn't according to my readings, and how it may be applicable to Skeptual experience. In a day or two, I'll be posting a response to some objections I've heard to my overall methodology. Stay tuned.

Hypothesis, Methodology, and Practices

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 22:57:00 +0000

Disclaimer: This article is WAY ACTION-PACKED. Those prone to nausea due to whirl-winds of fun and adventure should proceed with caution [inspiration credited to Asparagus...a friend, not the vegetable]."

Now that our terms are defined and we know what we're talkin' about, I plan to succinctly explain my goals, state my hypothesis, delineate the practices in which I will participate and the methodology for tracking my success (so little to do, so much time ... strike that, reverse it).

After this third foundation article, we will be able to move forward with a discussion of how my first two practices are advancing...(I'm doing stuff...I promise...its awesome).

Skeptual Goals:
As previously stated in the definition of Skeptuality, my personal goal is to increase my awareness of (and thereby improve) my mental states, behavior, and relationships. I simply want to clarify that the "relationships" in this definition are not limited to human relationships. I extend this term to other sentient animals, the environment, and the universe at large (in the infinitesimally small chance that I run into E.T. or Alf).

Hypothesis:
While I plan to hypothesize for each practice separately, my hypothesis for the entire project has 3 distinct parts. Through specific daily practices and rituals, I should see a decrease in 1) frequency, 2) intensity, and/or 3) duration of negative moods and emotional responses.

Methodology:
1) In order to track my overall moods, I will take stock of my feelings every 2 hours starting at 9am and ending at 9pm. The summaries will begin with a 2 to 3 word description of my emotional state, continue with a statement of degree (1-10), and end with a short statement about the situation or context in which I find myself. At the end of each month, I'll publish the overall findings.

2) In order to track my negative response to particular circumstances, I will have to report myself for strong negative emotional responses: anger, frustration, pouting, temper tantrums, kicking and screaming, lying down and refusing to move if I don't get my way, etc. I will have to make an approximate estimate of the time the initial stimulus takes place and do my best to note how long it takes me to transition from the initial response to a more stable emotional state.

3) With the help of a few friends and coworkers, I will receive a daily report (when possible) of my overall mood. My goal here is to assess my self-assessment and keep me honest.

These methods will, of course, have their weaknesses and I am open to adjusting them between now and January 15; if you have thoughts, please share! From January 15, the official data collection will begin and then my methods will need to remain constant, for better or worse.

Practices
Now, the moment you've all been waiting for. The moment where I unveil the practices that I will engage in for the rest of 2010 (*drum-roll begins, lights dim, the guy rudely snoring in the front row gets nudged by his wife who assures him its almost over).

Month 1 - Meditation and Yoga
Month 2 - Monthly Charitable Donation
Month 3 and 4 - Chanting
Month 5 and 6 - Prayer
Month 7 - No new practices (My wedding month - out of the country)
Month 8 and 9 - Selfless Service
Month 10 - Fasting
Month 11 and 12 - Reader's Choice

*NOTE: I will add each subsequent practice to my currently existing practices as each month passes. Those practices that I have enjoyed or which have marked me in some way, I will continue for the duration of the experiment. Those that do not seem coherent with my goals or that I simply do not connect with, I will no longer participate in after the allotted 1 to 2 month period. Thus, I will potentially practice yoga and meditation for 12 months in total, charitable donation for 11 months, chanting for 10, etc.

Now that my foundations for the experiment are established, I will be able to move forward with a more specific discussion of my practices.

Tune in next article where you'll see me delve into myself and find that I am actually the reincarnated soul of Tony the Fish.

Skeptuality: Conceptual Framework

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 18:06:00 +0000

DISCLAIMER: This post is jam-packed with concepts, definitions and other sorts of nerdy-awesome. Not recommended for small children, earth worms, or those prone to fainting due to over-exposure to brain-thoughts.

In this second post, my goal is to lay the foundations for future articles by clearly defining Skeptuality and a few other terms that I will undoubtedly use throughout my Spiritual Project (to see my first post introducing the project, follow the link). Since I am not one for reinventing the wheel, I will mostly borrow from the great minds who have paved the road before me, using their definitions to discuss my Skeptual project. Let's start with the basics:

Skepticism, according to skeptic.com, "is a provisional approach to claims. It is the application of reason to any and all ideas — no sacred cows allowed. In other words, skepticism is a method, not a position. Ideally, skeptics do not go into an investigation closed to the possibility that a phenomenon might be real or that a claim might be true. When we say we are “skeptical,” we mean that we must see compelling evidence before we believe."

What this means for me concretely is that I need to be cautious. I can't judge these practices too harshly if they don't seem to immediately help me achieve my goals nor can I jump to conclusions about the outcomes of these practices on my life - no reaching nirvana in the next month. I will have to wait for the observations to accumulate and be open to alternative interpretation of my data. Otherwise stated, if I reach nirvana, I have to consider the possibility that my state of transcendence has in fact come from the sweet potato cake I'm eating...and not from my 15 minutes of meditation.

Spiritual experience has undoubtedly been defined in a number of ways and - due to the subjectivity of it - there will likely be little consensus on any precise definition. While I will surely devote entire posts to the exploration of the word spiritual historically and to skeptics specifically, I will offer a preliminary definition from one of my favorite skeptics and authors, Carl Sagan:

"Spirit comes from the Latin word "to breathe". What we breathe is air, which is certainly matter, however thin. Despite usage to the contrary, there is no necessary implication in the word "spiritual" that we are talking of anything other than matter (including the matter of which the brain is made), or anything outside the realm of science... Science is not only compatible with spirituality; it is a profound source of spirituality. When we recognize our place in an immensity of light-years and in the passage of ages, when we grasp the intricacy, beauty, and subtlety of life, then that soaring feeling, that sense of elation and humility combined, is surely spiritual." (The Demon-Haunted World - Science as a Candle in the Dark)

Carl seems to be referring to a state of awe for the natural world. Though it may or may not depict the "transcendence of ego" typically associated with spiritual experience (more below), it does ground spirituality firmly in naturalism and materialism while simultaneously putting us in our place in the "immensity" of space and time. The biggest lacking of this definition, however, is that it neglects the concept of self-improvement which I believe is the ultimate goal of spiritual practices.

Spiritual practice, for the purposes of this blog, will be defined as the engagement in ritual activities as a means to:

1) gain access to a range of transcendent experience
2) improve how one processes his/her interactions with others and with circumstances.

This, of course, still leaves several questions unanswered. What is meant by transcendent experience? What is meant by "improved"; improved in what way and towards what goal?

While I will address the second question in another post, I would like to briefly address the transcendent experience here by developing my own questions in relation to it. How does one differentiate a feeling of "transcendence" from a general feeling of awe (if there is, in fact, a difference)? Let us assume, for now, that transcendence refers to a "transcendence of ego" or "a sense of oneness with the universe". Can one, through practice, intentionally bring upon this sense of oneness with the universe? Is there a mental space where there is little to no differentiation between the "self" and the other? These are the questions I will need to explore through research and through personal experience.

This leaves me with the final definition I would like to take a whack at before galloping off into the blogosphere. What is Skeptuality?

Skeptuality is an evidence-based process informed by science and naturalistic ethics. It examines the potential for ritualized practices to increase our awareness of (and thereby improve) our mental states, behavior, and relationships. Tangentially, it seeks to give its practitioner access to a range of experiences conveying a sense of what is traditionally called transcendence.

*And with that, the mysterious voyager hops on his space moped and putters off into the distance.

Spiritual Project: 2010

noreply@blogger.com (Sincerely Scott) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 18:06:00 +0000

As a skeptic and a secularist, I have always been bothered by the fact that those who believe in a supernatural seem to have a monopoly on the so-called "spiritual" experience. While the word "spiritual" does typically infer other-worldliness, spiritual experience - when stripped of woo and ideology - falls directly in the realm of the natural (what, after-all, does not?). I often have the feeling that there is an entire ocean of experience from which skeptics are precluded based on arbitrary definition and our own fear of fuzzy-thinking. Well, I for one, think its time for a change. This year, I will be putting on my arm-floaties, tightening the string on my swimming trousers and raiding the spiritual beach. This blog will chronicle that journey.

The Plan:
For the duration of 2010, I will explore spirituality from a naturalistic, skeptical perspective by committing myself to a series of spiritual practices and observing any changes in my own life as objectively as possible. I will attempt to become a spiritual skeptic ... or Skeptual.

While I, like many skeptics, love long, thorough articles full of methodology, the wifey has assured me even skeptics would click away after paragraph 2 if they realized there were 35 more following it. I objected, convinced the reader would be enthralled by my wit and general sense of charm, but she insisted that my "wit and charm" - much like the yeti - are lacking any solid evidence of existence. Since I have a very sophisticated heuristic for settling all such disputes - the Skepchick is always right - I conceded to merely whet the reader's appetite with a general outline for the coming posts rather than write a 3000 word essay.

Over the next few posts, you should expect to read about all the features of a good lay-experiment:

A preliminary definition of terms
An Observation and a Hypotheses - the motivations for this experiment and what I'm expecting from it.
Variables to be Tested - A list of spiritual practices to which I will be committing
Methodology - My game-plan for how I will implement, observe, and measure the consequences of those practices

I encourage any and all readers to engage with me during this year-long experiment. Critique my methods, expand my perspective, or create your own skeptual experiment and share your experience. In any case, I look forward to whatever the year may bring.

Mood	Total # of Observations	Percentages of Total
Bad	27	32%
Neutral	21	25%
Good	37	43%
Total:	85	100%