OK, maybe you are. Most people are, in one way or another. This is a follow-up to my poverty post, which didn’t say all of what I wanted it to. I think it would be possible to come away from that post thinking that I am saying that if you haven’t had some type of intense experience of pain and deprivation, then you couldn’t be a Really Spiritual person. Or, conversely, that if you had that experience, then you are such a person. I don’t actually think that.
There’s a particular myth that occurs all the time among Pagans and others who have experiences with nonordinary reality. It’s the I’m Really Special narrative. There are different versions of the story – “I was born to a long line of seers, it runs in the family all the way from the Old Country” “I got lost in the woods as a child and the spirits came to me and I’ve been able to speak to them ever since” “I’m the seventh son of a seventh son” “I was contacted by angels from the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius.” The point of the I’m Really Special narrative is to make the teller into some sort of Other – someone who is nonordinary, who has been especially selected by the spirits or God or the aliens or whoever in order to communicate with, dominate, or enlighten the poor benighted mundane people of the world. I’ve heard the “I’m Really Special” story many times.
I think people like the idea that there are Chosen Ones in the world. It makes successes more exciting (“I can do this because I’m Special!”) and failures less painful (“well, I’m not one of those Special People, what do you expect?”) It also makes hard work unnecessary – part of the myth of the genius, after all, is that greatness simply falls out of them with no particular effort.
A discussion on RJ Stewart’s mailing list last week about injury and illness as an initiatory experience – whether an injury could also be an initiation. RJ’s response was precise and wise:
“… it is best to be practical and think that most things are just the way of this world, and that most such events are not signs of spirit. However, there are always some exceptions, and these must be judged not by the accident or the illness itself, but by the dedicated spiritual life that a person chooses to lead as a result. Or not.”
Whatever your circumstances, life experience, or temperament, a dedicated spiritual life is available to you if you want it. An initiation is a beginning – it’s whatever sets your foot on the path. Whether you keep following that path is up to you – even if your life has been totally and absolutely ordinary up to that point.
October 21, 2008 at 8:25 am
Relating to your prior poverty post, hard times can often lead to Spirituality, but it is not the hard times that force it upon us.
The catch is defining the term “special” properly.
One such definition, used in your examples is: “Surpassing what is common or usual; exceptional: a special occasion; a special treat.”
Yet others are:
“4.a. Having a limited or specific function, application, or scope.”
“5. Regarded with particular affection and admiration: a special friend.
6. Additional; extra: a special holiday flight.”
In those latter definitions, we are all Special, to our families and loved ones, regardless of the mundane life we may lead otherwise, and in the sense that our jobs are ours, and thus “specific limited functions”.
We are all special, but that doesn’t prevent us from being ordinary also…and Spiritual Truths don’t judge by those types of distinctions. They just Are, when we find them. Equal Opportunity Inspired.
October 21, 2008 at 9:12 am
but I *am* really special… just like everyone else in the world.
I’ve heard the story, too. My conclusion was pretty similar to yours in that it’s a great excuse or motivator. I also think that it’s a way to embrace the rejection of ‘normal’ people that seems to be the entire purpose for formal education. (Bitter much, Wren?) I remember when I was running with the “Strong Womyn” crowd – they called themselves Dykes and their male compatriots Faggots with pride to take the power away from the insult. The “I’m Really Special” story might be a way to embrace the difference that is outlined so vividly by others.
I will agree most wholeheartedly with your last paragraph, and try to add some encouragement of my own for any who care to hear it: I’m incredibly mundane, and I have a rich and wonderful spiritual life. Some of it may be self-delusion, but it appears to be supported by the people who matter to me. I’m a cook, a mom, and the house’s emotional glue – not a grand priestess or seer or even a very good ritualist. When I stopped trying to be special, or something I’m not, I became an even better cook/mom/glue because I recognized that’s where my spirit lies. I can honestly cook mac and cheese for my deity, and mean it.
Be who you are, because it’s already capital-ess Special. Maybe not the way you hope it to be, but it’s not about what you want, really. It’s about who you are.