The Clarity of Spiritual Joy
Optimism and pessimism need not be related to spirituality; hope, however, can ironically lead to depression if what is being hoped for is never realized. Similar to hope, skepticism born in the pessimist can be self-fulfilling: doom-and-gloom prophecy may provide a sense of joy that accompanies an “I told you so.” Both “isms” occur emotionally and are often void of evidence.
For me, spirituality is not akin to anything associated with intuition, mood, aura, or whatever is “felt” hovering in the ether. It’s the knowing, concrete awareness that we naturally look out for one another simply because we are all connected, can relate to one another, and are strongly associated with one another’s genuine welfare, well-being, and success.
As a “Foundational” Black American, I try to examine my ancestor’s determination and sheer will to live peacefully despite all obstacles: displacement, abuse, dehumanizing policies, and unfair, manmade laws and practices. How could a people want to push through such despair? My takeaway is that they knew their heirs’ conditions would be more humane and that opportunities would be theirs because of their hard work and labor. They were not optimistically hoping for the best or pessimistically expecting nothing would change the status quo. I am clear that my ancestors’ spirituality and their choice to be neither pessimistic nor optimistic made them confident. They unselfishly and systematically developed a spiritual system that provided fail-proof positive outcomes for the individual, community, and the children that would come after them. This system would be sustainable, resistant to anything pessimistic, and void of empty promises.
Spirituality is something we all innately have; keeping it full of joy is the assignment. Adopting an attitude of spiritual joy gives us a happy heart that moves us to see clearly and realistically what social and political challenges are before us and to develop an action plan that will work for society’s betterment.
And what would that have looked like? Historians and some experiences during my childhood showed me what “that ole time religion” spirituality looks like in real time. In witnessing my elders’ worship, one might have thought that the shouting, the fainting, and other outward expressions were indications of their hopefulness and prayerful wishes that one day soon their bondage would be broken and they would be free at last: that at last freedom would come. No, it’s just the contrary. As a little girl, I would ask my mother why people at church seemed out of control of their bodies, running up and down the aisle and screaming audible and sometimes not-so-audible phrases. My mother would say, “They are happy.” Happiness was evidence that change is before us all.
As a child, such behavior did not compute with what I considered to be happiness. Happy was the feeling I would get when I received an A in school; or when I arrived home to the aroma of something delightful being cooked by my mom; or when my dad came into the house, and I felt safe, just knowing he was within arm’s reach. The running up and down in a place of public worship yelling and screaming did not match my idea of happiness. It wasn’t until I got older that I began to ponder what would make stoic adults lose control. As a child, I thought “being happy” was the cause. Later, I began to think perhaps it was some form of outlet or release for the sake of mental health. Now, I have come full circle. The little girl in me was given the correct depiction, after all. They were indeed happy! Knowing their spiritual connection, they were assured that being happy and being hopeful were indeed two distinct conditions. Why wouldn’t the witnessing and realization that joy has revealed itself make anyone jump up, shout, and run laps around the church aisles? It takes a lot of courage to demonstrate one’s spirituality outwardly. We are all different in how we convey it: some of us work in communities, knowing we are making a difference; some may practice furtively and secretly; and some shout for joy in the morning!
Okay, how about the spiritual, pragmatic optimist and practical pessimist? There may not be a full-throttle joy for either. A pleasant disposition about the future may be fulfilling and more than enough. The spirit we allow to be with us is partly determined by one’s capacity for joy and happiness; I like to call it your own personal heart-size fuel tank. Continuing with this metaphor, I find that some of us prefer to keep the gas tank more full than not, never getting below halfway; there lies full enjoyment. Some are fine with a quarter tank of the joy-filled spirit; and others pay no attention until that blinking caution light warns that they are running on fumes—do something or else. Perhaps in this scenario, the pragmatic optimist believes there’s a gas station just a block away. And the practical pessimist now worries they will inevitably become stranded and in danger. Spirituality is something we all innately have; keeping it full of joy is the assignment. Adopting an attitude of spiritual joy gives us a happy heart that moves us to see clearly and realistically what social and political challenges are before us and to develop an action plan that will work for society’s betterment.
Spirituality laced with happiness brought not only my family together in worship but also my community. I was fortunate to grow up in a household where my parents did not emphasize one denomination or religion as superior to others. My mother often said, “If you combined and put all the religions in the world into one sentence, they would all say the same thing: just be nice to one another.” As a child, I knew exactly what she meant: don’t get hung up on religious practices and customs; go out into the world, and be nice and kind to everyone you meet. Lead by your “happy” spirit, not by being optimistically hopeful or doubtful. Being emotionally optimistic has nothing to do with it, nor does being expressly pessimistic.
Our Sunday mornings began with a hot breakfast, and all seven kids and parents coordinated how to use one bathroom without anyone being late for church. My dad, who was a Southern Baptist, and my mom, a member of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, would separately go to their places of worship. Sometimes they would visit each other’s place of worship. We, as children, had options, too. My parents never demonstrated disappointment or approval if we decided to attend their church or another’s. My takeaway about praying, hoping for betterment, and being spiritually engaged was I had freedom of choice and would not be judged, and the Spirit is not to be dictated by anyone, any event, nor time.
My spirituality is not optimistic or pessimistic. It simply has degrees of a love of humanity and a love of community. I prefer to welcome my mother’s explanation: being genuinely nice to one another.
Putting the vantage points of spiritual optimism and spiritual pessimism up against each other can connote some competition or, at best, could be seen to suggest an oxymoron. If one accepts spirituality as a worldview or something to get in touch with, then, yes, there could be degrees of spirituality and levels of optimism. Another school of thought might be that spirituality is embedded in the human soul, and without spirituality igniting, the soul may become dormant and reduced to being described as optimistically or pessimistically spiritual.
As a Quaker, clarity brings forth smoothness and reigns supreme. My spirituality is not optimistic or pessimistic. It simply has degrees of a love of humanity and a love of community. I prefer to welcome my mother’s explanation: being genuinely nice to one another. Is it always easy? Nope. My mom gave my siblings and me a lifelong spiritual homework assignment. It would take a commitment of mammoth proportions to dig deep into every opportunity to be friendly and kind, even when others did not reciprocate. My dad would always say to me whenever we parted, “Stay sweet.” As a child, I assumed all I had to do was be myself because my dad saw me as a naturally sweet child. It wasn’t until later that I realized that he, too, was giving me a lifelong spiritual homework assignment: to stay sweet and patient on the inside even when others may not recognize or value a pleasant disposition. In other words, optimistic emotions and pessimistic feelings have nothing to do with one’s soul and need not be welcome inside its hallowed gates. Feeling amicable toward one another is not the same as intentionally continuing to be friendly; after all, it is a spirit-filled happy thing!
Beautiful.