In recent years, the number of people embracing practices like zikr therapy – a form of spiritual meditation rooted in Sufism, a mystical facet of Islam – has grown significantly. As someone who has witnessed some of my secular friends embracing spiritual practices, I initially observed this transformation with astonishment. However, I continue to engage in dialogue, particularly because I believe this phenomenon will lead to intriguing outcomes.
In spiritualism, one intriguing aspect is the lack of specific religious affiliations among participants. If you were to ask them whether they identify as Muslim, you're unlikely to receive a straightforward response such as "Alhamdulillah, I am Muslim.”
Instead, they could say: "I don't belong to just one religion; I encompass them all." "Ultimately, they're all the same at their core." or they are likely to say: "I'm spiritual/spiritualist."
Nowadays, the issue is not about being Muslim, Christian, or Buddhist, because they are already seen as different paths to the same truth. This represents a new way of living faith, and thanks to this new category label, individuals don't need to assume the responsibilities of any particular religion. It's a state of selective permeability where practices deemed good by individuals are gathered.
These gatherings typically don't solely consist of practices from one specific religion; fragments from the Yawa Yawa tribe in the Amazon or Hindu mantras might be recited. Some may venture into the forest in a Shamanic ritual, hugging trees or strangers, and sometimes these gatherings start with a natural cacao drinking ceremony, making mandalas, and so on. In summary, the practices have a highly hybrid structure. I'm describing this as someone who has attended such gatherings multiple times and consumed plenty of cacao.
The objects used in these gatherings are not items of worship; they are simply tools that aid in meditation or worship, whatever term you prefer, helping individuals attain a clear state of mind. I want to stress the word "ordinary"; these tools hold no sacred significance for anyone. Personally, I appreciate the vibrations emitted by Tibetan bowls, but there's nothing particularly extraordinary about them. Sound is indeed not mystical; it's a physical phenomenon. Similarly, incense serves a sensory purpose.
The individuals participating in such events are predominantly seemingly completely secular individuals. They may drink alcohol, attend parties, freely engage in their sexual lives, and there is definitely no conservative attitude regarding attire. On the contrary, women are more at peace with their femininity, unafraid to be attractive. They draw inspiration from shamans in the Amazon, viewing the feminine nature as creative, founding, and organizing.
They also often question whether Islam, Christianity, or Eastern beliefs are being practiced correctly. They argue that issues like dress codes, which do not align with a secular lifestyle in singular religions, are societal and politically driven impositions. They believe that these religions fundamentally promote the idea of unity. Numerous practices centered around self-compassion are incorporated, with unity and love being the primary themes.
From my observations, a significant portion of individuals within these circles (though not everyone) lack a solid foundation in metaphysics. While certain aspects of spiritual teachings may have grounding in reality, I remain unconvinced that there exists anything beyond the scope of naturalism. However, this stance hinges on one's interpretation of the concept of 'nature'.
In spiritualism, the nature of existence often revolves around "something felt rather than understood through thought or reason." This perspective categorizes such aspects as mystical within the theory of knowledge. However, I find mysticism as a theory of knowledge to be problematic, but I won't delve into this further. Overall, I believe that for many individuals, the challenge stems from a lack of knowledge about the natural world and a resistance to learning. They simply want to believe, highlighting the psychological aspect of belief that needs addressing.
Many in this demographic, grapple with finding solace and meaning within secular perspectives. The common response of "Why not?!" to questions about the universe and existence fails to provide a compassionate path for those seeking deeper meaning in life.
This aspect intrigues me the most as a philosopher, and it's the area I'm eager to explore further. I believe it presents a strong critique of atheistic philosophy. Yes, let's say God is dead, or never existed. But can we offer a compelling narrative for people to live their lives happily and peacefully? If constructing this narrative isn't the task of atheist philosophers, then whose is it? This emerging trend of spirituality leads me to reflect on my own philosophical work. There are many lessons to be drawn from the widespread adoption of spirituality as a new belief trend. In this context, philosophers become the main target of criticism once again. Life isn't solely about metaphysical theories. Philosophical pursuits should establish an ethics and a philosophy of life grounded in practicality, accessible to all. Otherwise, one must question their purpose.
The secular perspective(non-religious, worldly perspective), often rooted in materialism, rejects the existence of anything beyond the physical realm. It views life as confined to the present world, devoid of sacred or transcendental aspects, and not orchestrated by a divine being with a predetermined purpose.
However, materialism can be harsh. It leaves you struggling with unsettling questions, unable to find comforting answers. Initially, you may view life with disdain, but eventually, you come to terms with its inherent absurdity. It's not about resigning with bitterness; rather, it's about cultivating the mental resilience to affirm and embrace something wholeheartedly. It's akin to finding yourself thrust into a game you never wanted to play, one devoid of purpose, yet resolving to make your mark nonetheless. You must then embark on the journey of crafting your own meaning, becoming the architect of your existence, for beyond this life and this world, there lies no greater purpose.
If not inherited from one's parents, adopting a metaphysically grounded materialist worldview often entails significant internal conflict. Moreover, it doesn't provide immediate solace, requiring individuals to cultivate their own sources of comfort. Hence, embracing such a worldview demands more effort than expected.
The prevalence of the so-called secular segment in society isn't primarily due to individuals consciously choosing a secular worldview after undergoing the mental effort I described. Rather, it often stems from a preference to align with the secular group for cultural or political reasons, or simply because they are born into secular families.
From a philosophical standpoint, the stances adopted on these issues often lack completeness. This is why the emergence of spirituality within secular spheres today, and the potential emergence of other ideologies in the future that offer comfort, should not come as a surprise; they lack a solid philosophical foundation.
At this point, for those who desire belief but find the strict rituals of established religions ill-fitting, and seek narratives that provide meaning and solace, spirituality emerges as a kind of existential remedy.
Imagine knowing you have a special purpose for your existence, that you're already a part of something divine. If something unfortunate happens, you believe it's the universe sending you a message. It's as if the laws of physics can attract positive things and repel negative ones, all while you indulge in fun, love, and the joys of life. Why wouldn't you be happy?
First, you experience a sense of well-being, which then inspires you to create more beauty in your life. Before you realize it, spirituality appears to have worked wonders in your life. However, this isn't miraculous. As Spinoza stated in the 1700s, mental experiences are also subject to causality. Thoughts lead to other thoughts, which ultimately result in actions and outcomes. If you maintain a positive mindset, you're likely to engage in constructive behaviors, thereby increasing the likelihood of encountering positive outcomes. This truth is indeed valid, but it's statistical rather than spiritualistic.
Initially, I found myself in debates with my friends, vehemently arguing, "No, this isn't about spirituality. It's rooted in the materialism. It's merely a self-fulfilling prophecy. It's psychological. Even the Dalai Lama has spoken about consciousness in this context..."
Undoubtedly, the Dalai Lama, spiritual leader of Tibet, has participated in conferences with some of the most ardent materialists in the field of neuroscience, exploring the intricate relationship between consciousness and the brain. He famously remarked, "If Buddhism contradicts science, then Buddhism must be reexamined, even if Buddha himself said it!" However, it proves challenging to instill even a shred of doubt in the minds of the new generation of spiritualists. Why? Because sometimes the issue isn't epistemological; it's psychological. For those unwilling to believe, every piece of evidence remains meaningless.
It's fair to say that many of these individuals are merely seeking meaning and purpose without causing harm to anyone. This holds true for all the spiritualists I know, including my friends, who are deeply cherished. They are earnestly striving to infuse their lives with meaning, to foster self-love and acceptance. This endeavor is invaluable and worthy of recognition.
However, it's clear that there is a significant commercial dimension to spirituality, which can sometimes divert people from reality by emphasizing happiness and profit over genuine introspection. Therefore, it's crucial to remain vigilant about the commercialization of spirituality and to maintain a healthy dose of skepticism regarding its underlying philosophy.
Purchasing a plane ticket and residing in ashrams or Buddhist monasteries can offer valuable insights to anyone. How do I know? Because I've experienced it firsthand. I temporarily set aside my immersion in the Western philosophical tradition and dedicated six full months in 2023 to traveling through India, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Indonesia, Nepal, and Japan, deeply engaging with the teachings of Eastern philosophy. I even underwent the transformative practice of Vipassana meditation.
Journeys like these serve as personal explorations, free from economic exploitation, in search of meaning. Regardless of your beliefs, such experiences open up new horizons for contemplation. At the very least, immersing yourself in different cultures is highly educational. For those interested, I recommend visiting public monasteries that welcome everyone, fostering tolerance for diverse ideas and encouraging theoretical discussions.
Just the other day, a friend jokingly remarked, "Aren't you spending an awful lot of time in temples for an atheist?" It's true; at this rate, I might end up being the materialist who pens the definitive book on the new wave of spirituality…