I am reading the classic 1902 book The Varieties of Religious Experience, by psychologist William James. James describes the psychological condition that precedes the making of any dramatic change in one's way of looking at Life – particularly the experience of embracing a faith of a religious nature – as "self surrender." Someone who is desperate to escape from self-loathing for countless perceived sins, or exhausted by the travails of Life such as illness, failure, brokenness or purposelessness may basically give himself up to – he knows not what. The unknown and invisible net that catches him is his subconscious mind, within which there is a subliminal protective power - a constantly available Source of comfort, strength and wisdom. He may call that Source by any name, but what he has found is what we Quakers call "that of God" – the Light, the Holy Spirit – which everyone has within. Upon that thrilling discovery, he often realizes that he is both the steward of that Spirit – and its agent.
I have described in these pages a thought experiment — imagining oneself as one cell among billions in the body of humanity.
Since then, the woes of humanity have mounted. Wars, famine, pandemics of health, hatred and anxiety. Though historically common, these seem to have become more numerous, more intense, and more ghastly in their human consequences — deaths, injuries, hunger and starvation, including countless civilians and children; homes, hospitals, schools and jobs destroyed; forced mass migrations; alienation of neighbors one from another, even in communities far from war or famine, due to toxic political climates.
How does one cope? How does one person, with one voice in the seeming din of shouted harangues, both practice self-care and contribute in a sustained way?
Return with me to the thought experiment. Even for an imaginary, single cell in the body of humanity, Life is a best efforts proposition. Each cell has its familiar set of chosen responsibilities within the body of humanity and fulfills those responsibilities in what it perceives as its best effort under its circumstances.
Imagine that to a cell comes the knowledge that the body is in danger. For reasons other than self-defense (or far beyond it), some cells in the body are killing, maiming or starving their fellow cells and destroying or threatening to destroy organs in the body which are the sources and homes of those other cells. Yet other cells, for power or distraction from the effort to gain power, are trying to get cells to attack each other or to diminish the ability of cells work together, particularly to work together to reverse and deter the degradation of cellular cooperation that is needed for the health of the body.
How does the cell respond to that knowledge? Just by pursuing its previously chosen set of responsibilities, however far from danger that may be, perhaps reasoning, “what difference could one cell make?”
Or does the cell recognize the danger to the body, recognize that its duty of best efforts applies to care for the whole body, and recognize that it could make a real difference, especially by joining with other cells, and resolving to find out what it, that one cell, can do — what it can do beyond what it previously did, beyond what it was previously comfortable doing — to help in a loving and persevering way to protect and heal the body? I believe that the cell that chooses to pursue this resolution, this path of growth and service, will find that choice fulfilling and entirely consistent with self-care and having a life of joy.