Spiritual Guidance without the Woo-Woo

“How do you tell the difference between ‘the invincible certainty of your heart’ and neurotic self-delusion?”[i]

I think divine guidance is a wonderful idea. The idea that my soul knows what I need and what is needed in the world around me, and is always offering advice, if only I were willing and able to listen. I hear stories of people receiving divine instructions and I’m awed and terrified. What if it’s just that they’re going crazy? What if it’s just my ego when I feel a subtle nudge? What if my soul is trying to tell me all kinds of helpful things but I’m too afraid to listen? What if I were to hear an actual, audible voice?

The other night I woke to a strange vocalization outside my window and I thought, this is it! I’m hallucinating. And it sounds so real. But what if it is some kind of spirit? It turned out to be my dog softly howling at the moon.

Being drawn to and at the same time terrified of mystical experiences is deep-rooted in me.

I grew up with people who heard the Voice of God pretty regularly, and they were quick to cast the demons out of people who fell prey to the wrong voices. These terrifying exorcisms gave me vivid nightmares. I wanted desperately to hear the right voice, not the wrong ones, for proof that I too was saved and protected.

I couldn’t pray in tongues, etc. I was just too uptight to let it roll the way others did. In my early teens, I sat in prayer and strained my spiritual ears until my imagination squeezed out the word “Finland.” Thrilled to finally have a calling, I looked up a student exchange program and got an interview with one of their counselors. She suggested I was too shy. Also, the program was expensive and the money God promised didn’t come through.

Sometime after the embarrassing Finland incident, I started writing questions to God in a notebook. I’d dot the question marks and then my hand kept going. The answers were full of love and encouragement. What I found myself writing gave me confidence and a sense of freedom. I told Grandma about it. Automatic writing! The Devil! So I had to stop. I wonder what would happen if I tried it now. Is all that love and light still in there, or would I find something else instead? Would my ego be able to give up control of the pen now that it’s older and more cunning?

Can I access spiritual guidance without the woo-woo voices and visions?

Cynthia Bourgeault outlines a pretty mundane method for discernment. It’s called The Four Voices. When trying to decide between options, you ask your nafs what it wants, then you ask your soul, spirit, and finally your heart. I interpret my nafs and soul as lower and higher aspects of my ego/personality. The nafs wants to be comfortable and safe, while the soul, moved by beauty and compassion, wants to grow and soar. The way Bourgeault describes the voice of Spirit sounds like an inner critic to me. The part that knows what’s right and doesn’t care about saving face or making rent. To oversimplify Bourgeault’s four-voices process, the heart integrates the first three voices and produces a solution that satisfies all because, as she explains, “failure to [bring all voices to the table] will result in a discernment where the dominant voice pushes its agenda and the others proceed to sabotage it: the usual ‘hung jury’ incapacitating any real action.”[ii]

To put it into practice, my spirit is telling me (not audibly!) to quit coffee. It makes me tense and gives me headaches. It’s needless consumption.

My nafs loves coffee. My morning ritual!

My soul is inspired by the challenge of quitting and suggests that I might become more still and present in my daily life if I weren’t so caffeinated.

My heart listens to all of this and reminds me that if I cut back a little at a time, gradually mixing decaf in with my regular coffee, the withdrawals won’t be so severe. Now is a good time, as I don’t have a lot of demands on my time and I can catch up on rest. And I can always go back if life without coffee proves to be too horrible.

[i] Cynthia Bourgeault, Love is Stronger than Death: The Mystical Union of Two Souls. Monkfish Book Publishing, 2014, Kindle Edition loc. 311.

[ii] Cynthia Bourgeault, “My Missing Bags as Spiritual Teacher,” The Contemplative Society blog post, July 2014.