A concession. (a couple in fact)

I keep coming back to spirituality. I don't specially want to, but it's the only thing that seems to be able to capture my heart, and relieve the ache of my uncertainties. I don't know what this should be thought to mean - don't even particularly know what I mean by spirituality - but I do know that my mind goes through times when it's weary to the point of exhaustion with having nothing to rest on, and the only thing that seems to soothe it is... some amorphous kind of thing which I associate with the word 'spiritual'. Something to do with being alive to the beauty in the world, and perhaps a sense of not-alone-ness that one might take to be God. I feel it in art, in nature, in love, in the people around me, in pathos, in all kinds of things. Most infuriatingly, it doesn't answer the questions (what is life and what the heck should I do with it?); but, whatever it is, it keeps me from despair. Did so tonight, for example, when I was pretty close.

Are those sufficient grounds for 'coming back to God'? Can I get back in the game purely on the basis that it periodically gives me the fix I need to keep going? Could I think of trying the whole prayer thing again, simply as a sort of psychotherapeutic exercise, or would it not work if I felt I was trying to fool myself? Fooling oneself is pretty hard.

I'm also finding myself, these days, surprisingly affectionated towards the church. Perhaps it's just because it's the home of my childhood, or because I'm sick of hearing it spoken ill of, or perhaps it's more. In any case, even though going to church services these days tends to be a rather depressing experience for me, I find the thought of separation from it a little frightening. For all its failings, I can't help but acknowledge that if I were to remove myself from that environment - one in which I am constantly challenged to keep my way pure, and to develop my character - I would probably drift into ethical laziness. I can feel that in me. Have even seen it in myself in recent times, as I have been drifting. And when I look into the future, and the various difficulties of life I will inevitably go through, the thought of being connected to a group of people who uphold (however imperfectly) values like compassion and generosity and service seems like a pretty good idea. Ok that sounds really selfish, but you know, it's reciprocal of course. And however circular the logic may be, there's certainly something healing to the soul about treating others that way too. In fact I might add that to the list of things that seem to give life meaning. Aside from the question of whether it's the best way to fix the world's problems, treating people with love seems to have this feeling of elation attached to it that feels like fulfilling one's destiny.

It's possible, I'm sure, that other such mutually caring communities exist. But this is the one that's readily available to me, and it's not so bad on the whole.

I just don't know, though, if I can bear to carry on hovering round the edges of something that inherently requires the devotion of one's whole being. It seems like an all or nothing thing; it seems sort of offensive to those dear earnest people to go among them half-heartedly, like sitting in the corner with my arms folded at a party. Which is unfortunate. Perhaps there are other kinds of churches, somewhere, where people can take part as much as they feel able.