One reason Donald Trump assumed the Presidency of the United States last year is the support other leaders gave him early in the nomination contest. When Ben Carson endorsed Trump, he provided the following explanation (among others), “I prayed about it a lot and I got a lot of indications – people calling me that I haven’t talked with for a long time, ‘I had this dream about you and Donald Trump’ (laughter) I mean, just these amazing things! But I also, tend to think that the way God speaks to you is by giving you wisdom.”

At the time, I wrote in exasperation, “There you have it, ladies and gentlemen! A revelation from God telling this good doctor it was time to join forces with Trump. Maybe now the rest of us can put away our silly concerns and get on board?”

Exasperation aside, this experience made clear to me some of the dangers of our often naive view of God’s “promptings” and answers to prayers as involving anything we deeply come to feel.  In that case, after all,  how can you question a revelation from God?!

Better “follow that prompting,” right?  That’s sometimes how we speak of guidance from God in our faith community.  Despite the inherent complexities of interpretation + complex individual experience, we sometimes talk in a way that presumes anything we feel deeply or intensely comes from God: aka, “I received a prompting…so I better act on it!”

Period.  End of story.

I’ve raised critical questions recently about those who very publicly claim God has led them to embrace a profoundly new sexual dogma (and progressive version of the gospel), as well as others claiming God had poignantly affirmed that an anti-depressant was His answer to their intense prayers for deliverance from depression.

While each of these personal experiences involved tender feelings and difficult questions, the same pattern still applies.  In all these cases, much less consideration is given to either (a) The contrast between different ways of interpreting a prompting and (b) the possibility of “promptings” from sources that are not divine.

What does this have to do with mindfulness? One of the beautiful benefits of mindfulness is being able to break apart (and “break down”) complex experiences with the lens of our own awareness. Where it used to be “just a mass of depression”…with enough contemplative practice, we’re able to see the crucial surrounding relationship context feeding into the experience, alongside the ruminative thoughts, separate from an assortment of physical sensations, and a complex interplay of emotions that includes intense sorrow (along with moments of hope and love).

This sort of clarity can make a significant difference in (a) knowing what is happening and then (b) sensing what to do next from a place of calm and wisdom.  In the absence of this kind of seeing however, the combined complexity can overwhelm easily.

In a similar way, a prompting (or what we believe in a certain moment to be a prompting) invariably comes amidst diverse circumstances around us and inside us, including a complex backdrop of thoughts, emotions and physical sensations.  Are we aware of what is what, and how these aspects might influence each other?

Rarely.  As a result, things can get pretty foggy and confusing.  If we lurch forward insisting we’ve heard God’s voice, at times I believe we can (potentially) come to uncritically accept something that God might desperately want us to critically analyze a bit more.

And what if we did?

The doctrine of false revelation. The beginning of a (more) critical analysis might need to start with a (broader) understanding of what modern prophets have actually taught about revelation.

One of the beautifully radical parts of the restored gospel of Jesus is the understanding that God not only allows, but actually encourages each of His children to seek out their own personal witness and experience of the truth.

By default, this introduces wide variation into people’s experiences, not only because individual experiences are unique and the world is diverse, but because human interpretation of a complex Mormon theology make for a profoundly interesting spectrum of conclusions.

In addition to the widely-appreciated spectrum of individual personality differences and life experiences, it’s clear in prophetic teaching that there are also differences in the kinds of spirits we interact with in the world.  Connected with guidance given to Joseph Smith at Kirtland, Ohio on May 9, 1831, it was noted that “some of the elders did not understand the manifestations of different spirits abroad in the earth” which prompted a “special inquiry on the matter.”

This preface to Section 50 of the Doctrine and Covenants notes that it was “not uncommon among the members” to claim to have received a vision, revelation or a “so-called spiritual phenomenon.” Joseph Smith went on to write about what God had taught Him about this, including this teaching about “the spirits which have gone abroad in the earth”:  “Behold, verily I say unto you, that there are many spirits which are false spirits, which have gone forth in the earth, deceiving the world” (D&C 50: 1–3, 31–35).

In the Book of Jude, these “false spirits” are defined in the Bible as the spirits of “angels which kept not their first estate” (Jude 1:6).

Latter-day Saint revelation confirms the potential of these rebellious, deceiving spirits to “seduce” (D&C 46:7) and “dwell in” people (Mosiah 3:6).

While this may be subtle, at times, these spirits also have the potential to be very insistent and powerful, “crying with loud voice” (Acts 8:7) and even appearing in physical view as an “an angel of light” (D&C 129:8).

For this reason, different spiritual teachers have cautioned against “giving heed to seducing spirits” (1 Tim. 4:1) or “list[ing] to obey” them (Mosiah 2:37; Alma 3:26). Joseph was himself warned that the master of these spirits (Satan) “hath sought to deceive you, that he might overthrow you” (D&C 50:1–3, 31–35).

It’s easy to see how this might happen, with subtle (or intense) feelings arising seemingly out of the blue, feeling so real, so relevant, so true, and so important. Indeed, this whole situation is complicated by the fact that most the time, most people remain wholly unaware that these spirits even exist.

Our  own family’s experience. On several occasions in our own family, we’ve had experiences where, seemingly out of the blue, a different, strange, heavy feeling came into our home.  In one instance, my wife and I came to feel a renewal of some deep feelings of uncertainty and hurt towards each other that felt so real and so important that we spent several hours in intense conversation about what felt like aching, urgent short-comings in our marriage.

After separating myself from the situation, I prayed and sat with everything happening. With extra insight from this communion, it became clear that these intense feelings we were experiencing were not from God.  I returned to my wife and proposed that we “not allow these feelings to dictate the conversation we ought to be having.”  Instead, we decided to reorient our inquiry toward one question: “What are God’s expectations of our relationship?”

We also prayed that if we had been influenced by something not of God, that he would “chase this darkness from us.”  Within the same night, the foul spirit had passed – and things were back to normal.  The whole experience was so real and strange, and had such a hold over us:  almost psychedelic in its impact!

I shudder to think about what happens to marriages (or individuals) who have similar experiences of dark, heavy, angry spirits “manifesting” – especially if they don’t recognize them as such.  In that case, how easy it could be to follow them out in all their toxic logic and despairing demands.

Understandable confusions.  This is hardly something we talk about publicly, let alone think about ourselves however.  No surprise, then, that many people find themselves confused at how to work with this “manifestation of different spirits.”

Thus, we hear the Lord acknowledging the confusion and misunderstanding of his people on this very point: When Jesus’s apostles encouraged him to do something aggressive, he rebuked them:  “ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of” (Luke 9:55). And in a warning to his latter-day followers, the Lord gave specific counsel about what to do when they encounter “a spirit…that you cannot understand” (D&C 50:31).

Specifically, the Lord goes on to encourage the Saints to ask God regarding the nature of the spirit:  “ye shall ask of the Father in the name of Jesus; and if he give not unto you that spirit, then you may know that it is not of God.”

In a similar way, John once said, “Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try [or “test”] the spirits whether they are of God” (1 John 4:1). Many other prophets have taught (or have been taught) additional ways to “test” or discern a deep spiritual impression we are feeling.

For sake of simplicity, I mention just four below:

• Nephi’s test. Does the impression lead us to greater intimacy and connection with God through our personal communion with Him? “The evil spirit teacheth not a man to pray” (2 Ne. 32:8).
• John’s test. Does the impression testify of Christ (or not)? “Hereby know ye the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God: and every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God” (1 John 4:2).
• Mormon’s test. Does the impression persuade and lead us to do good? “I show unto you the way to judge; for every thing which inviteth to do good, and to persuade to believe in Christ, is sent forth by the power and gift of Christ; wherefore ye may know with a perfect knowledge it is of God. But whatsoever thing persuadeth men to do evil, and believe not in Christ, and deny him, and serve not God, then ye may know with a perfect knowledge it is of the devil; for after this manner doth the devil work, for he persuadeth no man to do good, no, not one; neither do his angels; neither do they who subject themselves unto him” (Moroni 7:16-17).
• Joseph’s test. Does the impression bring our minds more light, and our hearts more joy? “Verily, verily, I say unto you, I will impart unto you of my Spirit, which shall enlighten your mind, which shall fill your soul with joy” (D&C 11:13).

As part of this inquiry, Joseph was also promised “power to overcome this spirit” and “power to overcome all things which are not ordained of him” (D&C 50: 31–35).

Perhaps more important than any specific “test” is continuing to connect ourselves to the spirit of truth, as the Lord told Hyrum once:  “And now, verily, verily, I say unto thee, put your trust in that Spirit which leadeth to do good—yea, to do justly, to walk humbly, to judge righteously; and this is my Spirit” (D&C 11:12).

All the foregoing, of course, will be irrelevant or overlooked if our conversation largely presumes that any intense feeling or emotion is a “prompting that I must follow.”

From a Latter-day Saint vantage point, it’s clearly not!  So let’s do more to talk (really talk) and think (carefully) about how we can know whether it is or not. In the absence of that kind of conversation, we may embrace something as “of God” that, in actual fact, leads us in a direction of greater heartache and pain.

Jacob Z. Hess, Ph.D.

Between 2005 and 2009, I conducted a dissertation study exploring contrasting narratives of people on antidepressants after years of treatment. During my defense before the committee, a professor asked me, “So why are so many people in Utah on antidepressants?”[1]

Most people have heard one especially fashionable explanation, which attributes this pattern largely or entirely to the LDS Church itself, especially to high standards and expectations intrinsic to Mormonism (and arguably to Christian discipleship generally).[2] Without denying these as real issues worth exploring, it’s difficult to claim that these cultural elements drive rates of depression among Mormons – especially when Mormons experience depression at comparable rates to the rest of the population[3] and depression continues to prove itself as a universal epidemic spanning all boundaries.

So in that moment, I raised another possible answer for my dissertation committee: “Well, conservative people trust authority, you know! And compared to my liberal friends who pepper doctors with all sorts of questions, when a physician informs my neighbors in Utah that this medication is going to take care of your problem….well, most of the time they pretty much believe it. I’ve seen many instances of neighbors who feel uncomfortable at what their doctor is saying, but ultimately go ahead and follow (obey) the prescribed order!”

Compliance & intuition. In many times of life, of course, this “willingness to obey” is a good and even crucial thing – including, perhaps in relation to a doctor’s prescription.

And, indeed, studies show that a certain percentage of people on antidepressants can and do experience some kind of short-term relief (varied figures depending on the study, the sample and the severity of depression),[4] with another group sometimes finding relief in a second or third or fourth attempt. For someone in a desperate place, this bit of relief can mean a lot – and might even be life-saving.

As most people are, I am absolutely supportive of people following their intuition and personal sense of what is best in getting the help they need. That, however, is sometimes where our public conversation stops – with lots of collective attention focused on helping people move from a place of fear or stigma, to an openness to “getting help.”  But what happens next?

That’s been the focus of my research.  We’ve all heard vivid stories detailing heartening shifts some people experience after starting something like an antidepressant.

So what happens next  – after the miracle moment?

Looking long-term. In 2009, after losing a friend to suicide, one of my colleagues Bob Whitaker started exploring the same question. He gathered together every single medical study exploring long-term outcomes of psychiatric medications, including antidepressants. And what he found surprised him.

As expected, antidepressants showed short-term improvements for patients (which is why the FDA approved them for public use). But looking long-term, these same medications show more counter-intuitive effects. Similar to other drugs (antianxiety, antipsychotics, and pain-killers), longer-term results are consistently underwhelming, and even alarming. In particular, the following pattern kept emerging:  People on antidepressants long-term, compared to comparison groups, were more depressed than those not (see pages 164 -169, in particular).

This pattern showed up again and again, with several different research indicators pointing in the same direction (see also pages 157-163).  Generally speaking, people taking antidepressants long-term don’t fare so well. That’s the simple truth.

Fear of tapering. If that’s true, then why do people stay on them long-term? Because they have become convinced they cannot live without them – and the withdrawal effects they experience in attempting to taper seem to only confirm that.  

In my own study, for instance, I found that when people tried to taper off an antidepressant, they were often encouraged to taper so quickly (“cut your dosage in half”) that withdrawal effects overwhelmed them. Rather than see this turbulence as reflecting withdrawal effects, however, most people interpreted them as the “return of depression.” That, in turn, became evidence of how much “I really need this” – even though, by this point, many people seemed to experience little to no real therapeutic effect. After many years, in other words, many people end up essentially deciding to stay on the drug to avoid the bad effects that sometimes arise when they taper (which they interpret as a “return of the depression”).[5]

One woman told me, “I’m grateful that I was born in this day and age where I could get the medication that I need so that I wouldn’t be locked up in the attic somewhere, or indisposed all the time (laughs).” Another person added, “I’d really like to be off the meds, but the person off the meds is scary” (p. 90).

As reflected here, many people learn at some point that they cannot be okay without the antidepressants. What may have been a helpful message to prompt people to get help in the first place, seems ironically to contribute to a longer-term dependency on the medication. And indeed, many professionals now just assume that depression has a natural long-term course – without questioning why so many people seem to be finding that to be true now, compared to previous eras.[6]

Another way forward. But it doesn’t have to be this way! The medical research confirms literally hundreds of potential contributors to depression, alongside hundreds of things people can do to begin moving in a direction of long-term healing.[7]

To be very clear: If an antidepressant has helped you move towards healing, wonderful!! All I’m pointing out here is that antidepressants were never intended (or tested or proven) to be a long-term remedy. So appreciate whatever help they have offer you now, but be sure to leverage that time to create an infrastructure for longer-term healing.[8] And you may or may not like to hear this: but as part of that plan, consider the possibility of tapering off antidepressants as a part of your sustainable healing package.

When that time is right (and you and your loved ones are the best ones to know that, ideally in consultation with a doctor),[9] you can begin the task of tapering off antidepressants. For people who have been taking antidepressants for years, this will not (and typically cannot) be a quick process, with a need for careful medical management and support. The time and way of doing that needs to be carefully considered – and once again, hopefully with the supervision of a doctor.[10]

Am I telling you to get off a medication?  

No, I do not have that authority. I am raising a question that others can consider for themselves.  Although I have received a doctorate with a focus on this area of research, I cannot say whether or when it’s right for any given individual to consider the possibility of tapering off antidepressants. That depends on many factors only known to you. In other words, the information contained here does not constitute medical advice and should not be relied on as such. Furthermore, these are my own thoughts and do not represent any institution or person with whom I have collaborated. 

I acknowledge (and expect) that some will see this as a dangerous possibility to raise – especially those convinced that patients have an inherent need for the medication.[11] Clearly it’s not time for everyone to taper off Prozac – since for some, it may be contributing to their well-being for now. I acknowledge that possibility here.

To not acknowledge the other possibility however – that tapering may be beneficial for people’s healing at some point (and that there are possible detriments for not doing so) – is I believe unethical. In a moment when one in 10 Americans (and one in four middle-aged women) is on an antidepressant AND STILL the burden of chronic mental illness appears to be accelerating,[12] the last thing we want to do is foreclose fresh possibilities. Indeed, the possibility I raise here could be phenomenally good news for people who have experienced depression for years. Instead of looking forward to yet-another-year simply “managing or coping with their depression,” this invites space to at least consider higher levels of well-being available.[13] And indeed, the good news is that it’s not only possible, but that long-term, people can start to feel more themselves again after getting off antidepressants.

For those interested in hearing more about this broader approach to working with mental/emotional distress, check out this free online course available here – Mindweather 101: Creative ways to work with intense thoughts and emotions – a class drawing on insights from many professionals and researchers.

Invitation to those with questions. For those who remain skeptical at any of this and see it as falling somewhere on the spectrum from silly to dangerous, I leave two challenges:

• Read this chapter summarizing the historical and scientific case behind my question and concern.
• Watch this 6 minute video on Learned Hopelessness.

After doing both, ask yourself the following:  “Is it dangerous to let people know of the possible benefit of deep, long-term healing available (and not exclusively dependent on medication) or is it dangerous NOT to inform them of this?

In order to expand my own understanding, I’m gathering stories of people’s long-term experiences with depression (whether on or off antidepressants, whether doing well now or not so well).  If you have a story you’d be willing to share, contact me at Jacob@alloflife.org. I would like to better understand more of people’s long-term experience – especially those who have interest or experience pursuing tapering after many years.

I welcome any and all questions and inquiries.

Notes:

[1] The evidence for this contention comes from a single 2002 study that has been widely cited and more often than not taken to be definitive causal proof that Mormonism is causing people to be depressed.

[2] These high standards and expectations are referred to almost universally as a pejorative within general public discourse – e.g., “perfectionism, shame, busyness.”  And yet, for Christians who worship a Risen Lord who asks followers to “take up your cross” and “seek not to save your life, but to lose it” – for people who earnestly believe that God is asking for their hearts, minds, lives, loves – and even their bodies as “living sacrifices” – for these people they are aware these requests will never be understood by the natural man as anything but “foolishness.”  Thus, while there are legitimate ways to improve how Mormons talk about expectations (indeed, this is a big purpose of my blog), most active members – myself included – see the public attacks on shame, standards etc. as significantly hyper-exaggerated within an American cultural context that has come to see any boundary, distinction or expectation that might invoke some kind of personal discomfort to be a major problem.

[3] While some have insisted Mormons are more depressed than everyone else (pointing, for instance, to one study suggesting higher rates of anti-depressants), a broader review of evidence  confirms a more nuanced picture:  namely, Mormons often reflect a similar depression rate to the national average, with some evidence suggesting active members are less depressed than the national average.

[4] For instance, this conclusion from one 2010 meta-analysis: “The magnitude of benefit of antidepressant medication compared with placebo increases with severity of depression symptoms and may be minimal or nonexistent, on average, in patients with mild or moderate symptoms. For patients with very severe depression, the benefit of medications over placebo is substantial.”

What exactly it means for a treatment to be “successful” or “effective” is another point of sharp disagreement, however, as Jeff Lacasse and I explore here:  “What Does It Mean for an Intervention to ‘Work’? Making Sense of Conflicting Treatment Outcomes for Youth Facing Emotional Problems”

[5] Physicians often make the same interpretation – “You see?! That just shows why you need to say on this medication.”  Dr. Joseph Glenmullen, associated with Harvard University, was one of the first doctors to suggest another interpretation – namely, that withdrawal effects were at play in these negative effects arising after people begun tapering (and that these were often being misinterpreted as a simple return of depression.”

[6] In previous eras, depression was taken for granted to be time-limited  – with early reports consistently suggesting high rates of people finding recovery (See Bob Whitaker’s summary of the history)

[7] Our own review of the medical literature has pointed towards numerous factors contributing to serious depression – each suggesting a possible point of intervention and adjustment.

If true, of course, this would be a possibility for anyone on antidepressants, Latter-day Saint or not (with the latter the primary audience of my blog).

So what does this have to do with mindfulness anyway?  Mindfulness is about increasing our awareness – of body, mind, heart and the world around us. I raise this as an area of exploration with vastly insufficient awareness currently – hoping that greater awareness will be helpful to individuals and families who are struggling.

[8] And don’t be surprised if the medication doesn’t offer you relief.  For some people, they will never respond positively to an antidepressant.

If you are interested in learning more about this approach to healing, check out Mindweather 101 – a free online class prepared over several years and drawing on 35 professionals.

[9] But what if you cannot find a doctor willing to supervise you? This is especially common given how many doctors have been fully convinced of the long-term chronicity of depression. Despite that, there are doctors willing to work with people interested in tapering, and who will support individuals following their sense of what is best.  It is ideal when professionals support individuals in families in following their intuition of what is right, rather than overriding that by strong counsel.

[10] Read all you can about the process to get informed.  I will only provide this guideline written by a doctor I trust at Harvard Medical School, since I want to stay far from the line of any specific recommendations. But with enough searching online, you can find various additional recommendations for a thoughtful wise, gradual, stepped, withdrawal plan.

[11] There are very different views of the physiological basis of mental/emotional problems. Depending on the view taken, it leads to very different conclusions about treatment. For an academic length treatment of this question, see this peer-reviewed paper published with several academics across the country: “Narrating the Brain Investigating Contrasting Portrayals of the Embodiment of Mental Disorder”

[12] This comes from an analysis by Elizabeth Kantor at Harvard University of a survey of nearly 40,000 adults, from 1999 to 2012. She found that the percentage of Americans on antidepressants had doubled over this period.

[13] There are, of course, very different views about recovery from depression and serious mental/emotional challenges:  What exactly does it mean? What is realistic to expect, either short- or long-term? In collaboration with a set of diverse (and disagreeing) collaborators, we explored these questions in this peer-reviewed article here: “’Is There a Getting Better From This, or Not?’ Examining the Meaning and Possibility of Recovery from Mental Disorder.”

Monique and I have been enjoying the writing of an Asian-American pastor out of San Francisco, Francis Chan. 

We’ve been touched by the simplicity, honesty and power of this man’s words. (Relishing truth wherever it exists are, of course, central to our own Mormon faith – as something Joseph Smith and Brigham Young both taught).

I’ve recently appreciated Francis’ teaching about what happens when we come into personal conflict or disagreement with God. From the introduction to his latest book, he reflects on the larger conversations happening around Christianity (starting here at 2:58):

Maybe the thing I’m most concerned about is this arrogance – look, in Isaiah 55 God says “Your thoughts are not like my thoughts and your ways are not as my ways.” He says, “as high as the heavens are above than the earth, that’s how much higher my ways are than your ways – and that’s how higher my thoughts are than your thoughts.”

So when we begin an argument with, “well, I wouldn’t believe in a God who would….who would what?  Do something you wouldn’t do?  Or think in a way that’s different from the way that you think?

Do you ever consider the possibility that maybe the Creator’s sense of justice is actually more developed than yours?  And that maybe his love and his mercy are perfect – and that you could be the one that is flawed?

See, when we make statements like “well, God wouldn’t do this would he?” Do you understand, in that moment you’re actually putting God’s actions in submission to your reasoning. You’re in essence saying, ‘well God wouldn’t think that way or act that way because I wouldn’t act that way or think that way. And yet if – when I read the scriptures, man all through this book, I’m like, ‘God – there are things you say that I wouldn’t think to say.  There are things you do that I wouldn’t think to do.

Chan then repeats a number of examples in scripture of instances completely at odds with how he thinks. Then he continues:

Look, there are a lot of things in this book that I go, ‘wow, God – you did that.  You thought that.  I wouldn’t think that.  And I wouldn’t have done that. But when I come to those passages – and when you come to those passages, does it even enter your mind that maybe he knows something that you don’t?  Or is it always – ‘I have this ability to reason. And I have this level of morality…and so something in him must be off or I won’t believe in him.’

I know there are things that I want desperately to be true.  And I also know that there’s a part of me that thinks God ought to do things a certain way – and I don’t want to put him under me.  I want to be honest and say ‘look, here’s all that God has written. I don’t want to draw any conclusion that aren’t there. I don’t want to read into it too much.  I just want to present this fairly – and I don’t want to misrepresent him.

He concludes, “It’s good that you discuss these things – but do it with humility. Confess. Pray. Fast. And study diligently on this one – because we can’t afford to be wrong.”

When Francis was recently asked about sexuality questions, he reiterates:  “So before we get to what this book actually says, I have to say, ‘would you surrender?  I mean, if you disagree with God on an issue – would you submit to him?  I really believe that’s the core issue here. I really think we jump to [discussion of sexuality] too quickly, rather than saying – at the core of your being, do you believe in a Creator?  And if He is your Creator, would you surrender to whatever He would ask you to do?”

He continues, “And then, if so – and that’s the kind of person I want to be as well – let’s look at this book [the Bible] together.  Because a lot of following Jesus is to deny yourself, picking up your cross and following me…it’s about not doing very much some of the things you very much want to do.  That’s a major part of following Jesus.”

And he concludes,  “Maybe I’m wrong about some of this – I’m just a human being, I’m going to be off on things. If your interpretation is different than that, help me see that – in scripture.  Let’s study this book together – and you tell me, what does it say?” (Watch the full clip here)

These teachings, of course, could be applied in a way that challenges the confidence of Church leaders or orthodox members in their interpretation of scripture. I don’t have a problem with that interpretation – and appreciate truth that acts as an “equal opportunity challenger.”

Imagine a conversation where we both acknowledged the potential of being wrong – of the need to keep searching. To keep listening…and to stay open to the wild possibility that there is more for both of us to learn.

If we believe in God, I’m not sure how we can talk in any other way.

Over a decade ago when first starting to research mental health narratives, I was struck by one pattern that kept coming up in my faith community – seemingly everywhere I turned. Individuals newly diagnosed with mental illness would recollect a previous time in life when they held the notion that praying or reading scriptures might be a central or powerful engine for alleviating their problem. From their new vantage point in understanding the “truth about mental illness,” however, that idea was now seen as naïve – compared to their newfound appreciation of the reality that mental illness doesn’t easily ‘go away’ in response to this kind of direct spiritual effort.

And of course, for the most part, they’re right. When was the last time you tried begging God to make something go away in your life – or make something happen…or make something right?

Awhile back, my two toddler boys started demanding certain things from Daddy and Mommy with loud, dramatic, insistent voices – “I want that NOW…No, NOW!…I really, really want it!”  Daddy and Mommy’s responses went something like, “Ummm, guess what.  It’s really hard to listen to you when you talk that way…”

I can’t imagine that God almighty is eager to hear similar desperate begging from us, despite a popular interpretation of the Parable of the Importunate Widow (Luke 18) that advances  the effectiveness of precisely that kind of entreaty.[1]

Apart from the occasional story of dramatic and miraculous intervention, I’ve rarely seen the practice of singularly desperate and urgent worship to be that ‘effective’ in making anything change. This is epitomized, once again, by the commonly heard disappointment after people facing mental illness pray and plead for God to “take this away” or “heal me”!

When that kind of a plea doesn’t ‘work,’ well then, it’s time to move on to something else, right? Many people thus push away from this ‘pray it away’ option into what is often assumed to be the only ‘other option’:  just accept that your mental illness is what you have to face, that your body and brain are just this way…and that your life is going to be like this for good.

Once that sort of acceptance happens, other things follow – including a willingness to identify with a particular diagnostic category and its likely prognosis, and a willingness to accept whatever treatment is prescribed in an attempt to remedy the illness. Acceptance thus seemingly floods across the whole experience – embracing the experience, the mental illness, the prognosis and the prescribed treatment, etc.

Isn’t this mindfulness at its best? Accepting things exactly as they are?

Well, sort of…

Another kind of acceptance.  In our Mindfulness-based Stress Reduction classes, we DO invite participants throughout various meditations – starting with the body scan – to “accept whatever they are experiencing in that moment” – with this one caveat: “without trying to force or fix or control or make things change in any way.”

Compared to the acceptance of mental illness described above, this mindfulness approach aspires for a deeper allowance of whatever feelings, thoughts and physical sensations  exist to be exactly as you find them…without trying to make them change.

Wow!! How would that ever make sense with serious mental or emotional distress? After all, if someone starts to have hallucinations or delusions, we need to do something to make them go away, right? And if someone’s moods are fluctuating up and down, we better get them something to make sure they level out, right? And if someone’s sorrow is too great or anxiety to big, we need to ensure that those symptoms come down, right?

That is not only commonly the unquestioned assumption; it is often the urgent demand made upon people. One man told me in an interview of his mother’s response when he was started getting symptoms of depression: “We’ve just GOT to do something…”

This urgency is understandable given the intense pain people face – and the dark outcomes that can ensue. Indeed, that same man also spoke of his own urgency to make something change: “Things had gotten so bad for me that I said, ―I‘ll do anything . . . I will do anything if you tell me that it will make me feel better… If you told me the problem lived in my finger and I had to cut it off…I would have done anything to make that go away.”

On one hand, this kind of urgent concern is, once again, understandable in the face of the intensity of serious mental or emotional problems. On the other hand, infusing an intense situation with additional fear, worry, panic and often even some aggression, might actually make things worse (See Fighting Against What Hurts Part I & II). Indeed, it all starts to feel like quite the opposite of acceptance.

What would it mean to bring a different level of gentle acceptance to a painful experience like depression or anxiety? That’s essentially the question that researchers have been asking about mindfulness-based interventions for two decades. And the answer has surprised pretty much everyone:  It helps…like a lot!

Most immediately, a gentle, mindfulness-based approach appears to offer some immediate relief for depression and anxiety, with 8-week groups showing significant improvements compared with control groups (see here and here for depression and here for anxiety). This is true for both adults and youth. In collaboration with colleagues at Florida State and the University of Utah, I recently conducted a randomized-controlled trial (RCT) of a teenage adaptation of Mindfulness-based Stress Reduction developed by the University of Massachusetts. Over the course of 8 weeks, we saw depression, anxiety and attention all moving in the right direction for teens in the mindfulness group, compared to a wait-list control (results forthcoming).

The Madness of Mindfulness. Despite these results, this kind of a mindfulness-based approach is by no means a ‘no-brainer’ for everyone.  Especially when compared to efforts that promise a decrease in immediate symptoms of emotional distress, it can be hard to understand why you would want to pursue mindfulness-based approaches that, in fact, involve an increase in awareness of distress initially. This happens as individuals are invited to turn towards symptoms with careful, gentle attention to what is going on (see Witnessing the Storm).[2]

It’s worth asking why anyone want to feel or experience their distress more – especially if there are so many ways to apparently avoid it?

The answer to that question only really becomes clear over the long-term, where empirical studies confirm that mindfulness-based and conventional approaches lead to very different places over time. On the one hand, attempts to control symptoms and make the distress go away initially have been shown in long-term studies to lead (generally and statistically speaking) to an aggravation of those same symptoms over long-periods of time; this is especially true when those treatment attempts are used continuously over a long period. By comparison, more gentle mindfulness-based efforts (which invite people to work immediately with initial symptoms in creative ways), have been shown in long-term studies to lead (generally and statistically speaking) to an alleviation of symptoms over the long-term – e.g., including a decrease in relapse of recurrent depression.

So there you have it…another way to approach ‘acceptance’ distinct from the popular way of ‘accepting mental illness (and its treatment).’  We might even think of this as a discussion comparing ‘Two Kinds of Acceptance’ in working with mental illness.

All this begs the question of what prayer and scriptures would or could mean for mental or emotional distress – IF, rather than employed in an instrumental, means-end attempt to MAKE THE DISTRESS GO AWAY, they were practiced out of this same sense of gentleness, mindfulness and deeper acceptance. For instance:

• Praying not to make something go away, but to commune, to seek intimacy, understand and insight in God’s presence (seeking His agenda – not ours).
• Reading sacred text not to garner divine favor in hopes of making something go away, but instead to deepen our understanding, insight and especially our intimacy with the Divine (that being the desired outcome).

From a place of mindfulness, my experience has been that personal worship becomes a very different, richer and more relational experience. Rather than a daily entreaty for God to do what I want Him to do…it becomes something else.  Something intimate…and soothing.  A dialogue.  An exploration.  Not a mean’s to my end – but a mean to His end.  And our relationship together.

For anyone – including those facing distressing thoughts and feelings – I hope a mindfulness-based approach to worship and intense emotion itself could offer some significant relief. I’m curious to hear others experiences and thoughts?

Notes:  

[1] When my brother Sam was facing cancer, we were taught that a proper interpretation of that parable in the New Testament meant if we wearied God with our prayers, He would probably listen…(IF we plead long enough and hard enough)!! This interpretation turned out to be as disappointing as it was a mismatch of our experience of God and His will.  After Sam died, it became clear that our focus in prayer should have been more on Him, than on the outcome that we wanted ourselves.

[2] Apart from this initial discomfort of paying closer attention to the pain and surfacing discomfort already there in the body or mind, there are no other significant ‘side-effects’ associated with mindfulness-based interventions – and certainly none that endure.

It’s popular these days to hearing something along the lines of:  “always remember, you are loved just as you are!”

To paraphrase one author, ‘You are loved, worthy and beautiful. You are enough – just as you are. And nothing, and no one can ever change that.’

It’s a lovely sentiment – and something we really do love to believe…about ourselves and about God.

Most often, this message includes an emphasis on “being who you really are” and “accepting who you really are” as central to health and happiness – and therefore, something surely pleasing to God.

“You are who you are,” people are told, “you just need to accept it.”  After all, you need to be “whoever God made you to be.”

This is often characterized as a kind of enlightenment and discovery regarding “true love” – typically set in contrast to others’ teaching on love. Compared to other views of love, for instance, this view aims to affirm the “perfection” of people…just as they are – with other teachings about love, by default, seen as (inherently) hateful, judgmental, and “un-Christlike.”

Does that include Jesus?

On one level, any who know Christ are acutely aware of how much His love meets us in this very (present) moment:  that generosity, grace, compassion…Any who have approached the Almighty seeking repentance have experienced this welcoming embrace first-hand. And it’s something all prophets have taught.

But the prophets don’t stop there. Especially those who have encountered Jesus personally say something more:

“And the Lord said unto me: Marvel not that all mankind, yea, men and women, all nations, kindreds, tongues and people, must be born again; yea, born of God, changed from their carnal and fallen state, to a state of righteousness, being redeemed of God, becoming his sons and daughters; And thus they become new creatures; and unless they do this, they can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God” (Mosiah 27:25-26).

Once the Lord meets us in his uniquely gracious way, what does He say next?

“And again I say unto you, ye must repent, and become as a little child, and be baptized in my name, or ye can in nowise receive these things. And again I say unto you, ye must repent, and be baptized in my name, and become as a little child, or ye can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God” (3 Nephi 11: 37-38).

It’s worth pointing out:  MUST is a word Americans NEVER use – so forceful as to be almost pejorative in our modern culture. But Jesus used it – including in this, His message to the traumatized people of Nephi soon after they met personally. Despite their fragile state, Jesus made it very clear what He intended to do for (and within) anyone willing to follow Him. He intended to change them. Elsewhere, Alma describes this as the “mighty change” that God Himself can work in us.

Returning again, to the question:  Is God’s love so “unconditional” that He doesn’t care about anything but ‘who we are’?

My own experience is that after connecting with us enough to confirm His love, Jesus invites us to give Him our hearts – to surrender, to yield and to let Him change us.

“And now, my beloved brethren, I would that ye should come unto Christ, who is the Holy One of Israel, and partake of his salvation, and the power of his redemption. Yea, come unto him, and offer your whole souls as an offering unto him, and continue in fasting and praying, and endure to the end; and as the Lord liveth ye will be saved” (Omni 1:26).

“I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God” (Romans 12:1).

Rather than you and I being ‘enough’ to God (just as we are), the teaching of scripture seems to point toward a very different message.

On one level, it’s true that there is fundamental wholeness and goodness in each of our spirits and core ‘selves’ that reflects divine DNA.  On another level, however, it’s also true that those spirits (and selves) can be – and are – hijacked by all sorts of things as we come into world…things that are not reflective of who we really are.

Buddhists speak of this as a “delusion” we are all born into.  Christians call it “the fallen world” – both of which can presumably blind us to things as they really are and socialize us away from our “true self.”

Although the scope and limits of this fallen impact are debated, most Christians would agree that the body, mind, heart and spirit itself can be weighed down, deformed and held in bondage in various ways and degree. As for the Buddhists, they similarly insist that we are all “born into delusion” (not just the “schizophrenics”).

If that’s true, then it makes sense that some kind of redemption and deliverance (or awakening and enlightenment) is also needed. From a place of personal, emotional and even biological captivity, we might even expect this process of deliverance and waking up to be, at times, outright excruciating…Maybe that’s why the prophets say things like this, in reference to God’s people:

“And they that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts” (translated elsewhere as crucifying certain “passions and desires”) (Galatians 5:24)

“For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin; Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin” (Romans 6:6)

If I am reading our theology right, aspects of ‘who we are right now’ may need to be literally destroyed – in order for God to create something else. That’s certainly been painfully true of my own experience.

As is often the case, C.S. Lewis puts it best:

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” (Mere Christianity)

If Lewis and Alma are right, our God intends this life as a process of becoming…one that radically changes us.

Rather than ‘good’ or ‘perfect’ or ‘whole’ as we naturally are, the gospel message is that we become fully whole, perfect and good through Him (and only through Him).  As described in modern scripture, “just” individuals are “made perfect through Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, who wrought out this perfect atonement through the shedding of his own blood” (D&C 76:69).

Instead of insisting we are ‘enough,’ then, the gospel message is that Jesus is enough:  “My grace is sufficient” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Rather than some self-help project of reducing our errors by our own hard work, this is about becoming whole or “perfected” in Christ (Moroni 10:32). Whatever work is needed to arrive at this point, He is the one who does it – not simply us, for as Paul says ,“I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus” (Phillipians 1:6).

While popular voices in society will continue saying, “this is who you are, this is how life is going to be.” The Lord so often says something else, “NO – this is not who you are and how your life has to be. There is such a mighty change of heart.  And you are a child of God!”

To be very clear:  it’s true our Father God loves us right now …whatever is happening. This doesn’t mean, however, that He loves ‘who we are’ without conditions…Instead, because He loves us, His work is to radically change and shape that ‘who we are’ in a pattern where we become something far, far more glorious than we currently believe ourselves to be.

If that’s true, then maybe it’s time to stop mistaking being loved where we are for being loved ‘just as we are.’

From a mindfulness writer that Elder Christofferson quoted in his most recent address, “As the heavens are higher than the earth, God’s work in your life is bigger than the story you’d like that life to tell. His life is bigger than your plans, goals, or fears. To save your life, you’ll have to lay down your stories and, minute by minute, day by day, give your life back to him” (Adam S. Miller, Letters to a Young Mormon, 2014, 17–18).

This fall, Mark and I have been laying out some of our ideas and experiences over what we’re calling the Third Space – asking ourselves, Can Current & Former Mormons Have Vibrant and Beautiful Relationships?  And if so, what would that look like?

We’ve been exploring this in phone calls for well over a year now.  This Thanksgiving, he and Elizabeth were in town for the holiday – giving us a chance to meet in person. Over camomile tea and coffee in a Brigham City cafe,  we spent three hours talking everything from eternity to this moment.

It wasn’t easy – but it wasn’t hard either.  Given our connection, we felt comfortable asking each other direct questions (“so if we died today, what do you think God would think about me?”) and being transparent about our answers…steeping in the messy contrast, like two tea bags.

I left the conversation with all sorts of questions and feelings – and with an appreciation and affection for Mark that had grown.

So why do we avoid these conversations?  Isn’t it because we hardly see a way for them to be anything but ugly?  In a previous post, I threw out five possible conditions for a productive conversation:  (1) Come as you are, (2) Stand where you are, (3) Understanding as top priority, (4) Conviction is welcome, (5) Uncertainty and struggle are welcome too.

Here are a few more ideas – based on my experience with Mark and a few others:

6. Holding out for Real Relationships.  So with all the potential challenges, why would people want to wander into the Third Space?

From the perspective of your friend or family member across the divide, consider this question:  Do you want me in your life – more than an awkward, superficial, pretend-relationship?  Do you want me in your life in a heart-felt way?

Then why not experiment with leaving the ridiculousness behind – and finding a way to do this – working at it to see what is possible?

More than simply a back and forth intellectual exchange, what we’re going for here is actual community.  The kind where you worry about each others’ families – and try to walk in each others’ shoes a bit.

I’ve already mentioned Doc Foster on the phone with me at 10:30 giving advice and reassurance when our 2 year old had a scary illness. I’ve felt his concern in other ways – and found myself worrying about his job in transition myself. It’s sharing sorrows and hopes and challenges with each other – and just enjoying small talk every once in awhile (just once in awhile, though…there’s too many other BIG stuff to explore!)

Above all, it’s trying to deepen our felt sense of empathy for each other:  what it’s been like for Mark.  What it’s like for me. Do I (Jacob) really understand where Mark is coming from?

Compared to when we’ve started, I can say that I better grasp today his goodness and the integrity he’s sought to follow and honor.  I appreciated, for instance, Mark’s latest post Meet the ExMos – and encourage people to read it.

7. Insisting on Non-aggression.  This is a tricky one – and one that we’re both sensitive to and agreed in our conviction. One thing that can happen in the First Space and Second Space many of us occupy in these conversations is that we “preach to the choir” and “rally the base” – sharing things with an intensity and energy that we’re well aware may not be accessible for others.

Mormons, for instance, can sometimes paint a picture of eternity that might leave someone who disagrees with them trembling. Invocations of divine authority on earth can sometimes feel like a cudgel to get people in line.  And mentions of “Satan” and words such as “Anti-Christ” can carry an extra-ordinary rhetorical power as well – and one that can feel anything but welcoming.

On the other hand, former Mormons can likewise paint a picture of Joseph Smith and Church history that might leave someone who disagrees with them trembling. Invocations of scientific authority can sometimes feel like another kind of cudgel – sprinkled with words like “rational” or “blind faith” or “sheep” that can leave Mormons feeling anything but welcoming.

No one is suggesting that people be unable to say what they really think about divine authority or church history. Wouldn’t it be nice, however, to create a space where people in both camps could come together to explore (minus the trembling)?  This isn’t just a matter of language choice – and not an attempt at some kind of language policing.  On the contrary, any and all of these words and concepts can still be explored, as long as it’s in a spirit of mutual exploration – and not of getting people in line (read:  aggression).

In other words, we don’t call anyone an “Anti-Christ” or “apostate” in the Third Space.  Nor do we call them a “sheep” or “delusional.”  We don’t use the “Satan card” – nor do we pretend that all Science is on our side.  Any and all of these concepts is up for discussion – no question.  But in line with making space for people to stand where they stand, the intention together is to preserve a productive, welcoming space for exploration together. 

8. Welcoming differences. Implicit in everything above is the idea that thoughtful, good-hearted people can disagree deeply about Mormonism and its history. I believe that. And if not able to feel the same yourself – maybe you could just stay open to the possibility.

To both sides, I would say the same thing:  If you’re asking for others to understand your full experience(s), then can you respect the space needed for theirs?  That may include things you don’t like – such as anger or sorrow – or deep disagreements about the deepest of beliefs.  Are you okay with that?

My experience has been that often the disagreements we thought we had aren’t always the disagreements we have at the end. One effect of entrenchment is to warp our view of the other side – and so it’s common to see differences in a kind of fun house mirror. That’s why so many breakthroughs can happen where you go “oh, that’s where we really disagree – not there.”  David Blankenhorn calls this “achieving disagreement.”

On one level, then, the task before us becomes making MUCH MORE space for beloved neighbors, family members and friends to have VERY different experiences of religion (and of sexuality, of politics), etc. Rather than resist that, fight against it, and resent it, this is about beginning to flirt with the possibility of bringing some generosity and tenderness to these divides – and even a bit of curiosity?

We might find that even historical details like Joseph Smith’s plural marriages have been interpreted in fundamentally different ways by thoughtful, good-hearted people (including me and Mark – who have an ongoing disagreement with me about how much legitimate diversity of interpretation exists within science and history).

Maybe the one thing we can ALL agree on is that “Follow the Prophet” is, indeed, a creepy primary song (Repeated chorus in a minor tone? Really?)  Speaking of common ground…

9. Excavating common ground. Building on all this foundation, comes one of the most enjoyable aspects of Third Space: discovering areas of sharp agreement.

Mark wrote a note to one of his family members who expressed concern with his leaving the Church, in which he proposed real conversations together.  In that note, he said, “I think we’d actually have a lot to talk about in an atmosphere of mutual respect. Seriously! We wouldn’t agree on a lot of specific things, I’m sure, but we would agree on most general things: the importance of honesty, compassion, courage, accountability, family values, healthy living. I don’t think you’d find me threatening at all.”

I agree!  And I mourn the loss of intimacy between current and former members…a loss that may not be as necessary and unavoidable as many assume.

10. Having some fun together. Within this place, I can assure you of one thing: It’s not all hard.  I’ve personally found it quite exhilarating – as kind of an adventure.

One of the magic moments happens where a level of confidence emerges together where you can really press each other – like Mark and I did in Brigham City.

This is where it really gets fun!…Where you can drop the worries and the fears – and really get honest and explore things together.

Looking Ahead.  Some people believe that deep community is dependent on shared ideology. I don’t believe that – sensing a higher (or deeper) understanding that might just subsume competing ideologies.  Something like – we’re all human beings. Needing love.  Seeking understanding.  Relishing respect and appreciation.  Can we rest in that place together for a moment?

Some may wonder if this is even okay or somehow contrary to religious teachings.  Elder Holland was once asked about what he would do if a child left the church, and he said this:  “If I had a son, this very day given the office that I have…If I had a son or daughter who left the church or was alienated or had a problem, I can tell you I would not cut that child out of family life” (6:45 – 7:03 BBC interview)

More than ‘not cutting that child out’ – what if you could re-discover a real, vibrant relationship with him or her?

I believe WE CAN DO THIS. We can hear out each other more deeply across even vociferous difference, we can sit with our discomfort – and we can stop questioning the hearts and motives of someone simply because his/her actions don’t conform to our own narratives.

If we end up feeling some anger or defensiveness or heart-ache in the meanwhile, let’s make space for that as well! Because as evident above, those emotions are so very real, and also deserve space as part of this conversation too.

Compared to stewing in our resentments or homogenizing into tribalized factions, let’s give this a shot. Who knows, we might even start having some fun together?!

So there you have it:  Give us feedback.  And then go and give this a try.  Let us know what your experiences are – and we’ll share them in future blogs. After we get more feedback, we will be formalizing some Third Space Agreements – something that we feel we need a lot more input. We don’t have plans of trying to launch a formal organization.  After all, this space isn’t an actual cabin after all.  It is the space between us – not my space, and not yours…a third space.

When religious folks hear about mindfulness for the first time, their initial response is often to big stereotypes…“hmmm, live in the moment?  I’ve heard that before.”

In opposition to the Christian life is a world that calls on people to ‘do what you want’…’have as much fun as you can’…’give yourself what you need’…’obey your thirst’…’stop worrying so much about future consequences’…and otherwise ‘enjoy the moment’ and ‘live in the moment!’

Isn’t that the same thing the contemplative tradition and mindfulness community are inviting us to consider?  Hardly.

In response to the ‘obey your thirst’ message, Siddartha Guatama and Jesus Christ would have seen themselves as strong allies, at the very least.  While the Christians are often the ones portrayed as carrying around a heavy cross of commands, the Buddha was no push-over. Among the Four Noble Truths the Buddha taught his whole life about Right Action.  Right Language.  Right Livelihood.  Right Speech.  Right Thought.

“Whosoever looketh on a women to lust after her hath committed adultery in his heart,” Jesus says.  Buddha likewise teaches “craving is one of the central causes of suffering.”

Both Buddhists and Christians, then, strongly hold to there being a right and wrong way to ‘be in the moment.’  To attempt to collapse these ways – or pretend that “living in the moment” means the same thing everywhere would be to ignore fundamental and interesting differences.

For the sake of clarifying this point, I’ve had some fun laying out two fundamentally different ways of being in the moment – broken down by 4 different questions:

Living in the Moment:  Key Issues Around which Divergence Happens. 

1. How Broad is the Inner Presence? On the most basic level, the precise scope of attention brought to the presence differs in significant ways. On one hand, people are mostly present to the impulses of the physical body, as well as to  personal emotional needs: Hungry? Thirsty?  Bored?  Sleepy?  Horny?  In this first kind of ‘living in the moment’ – these inner impulses reign supreme in influencing and guiding action.

In comparison, people may approach the moment largely present not only to inner physical and emotional impulses – but also to other aspects of self:  inner senses, awareness, intuition, spirit, etc.  In this second kind of ‘living in the moment,’ there is a dialogue between inner impulses and the other aspects of self.  While importance is still given to the body and emotion, they are not supreme rulers – and can be checked in a balance of powers with other aspects of self.

 2. How Does Action Arise? Dramatic differences also exist as far as where the power and control mostly resides. On one hand, there is a sense of drivenness to the moment’s absorption – a controlling level of reactivity to  various surrounding forces and inner impulses.

In comparison, the moment’s absorption involves an inherent increase in internal power and control – and a lessening of drivenness and reactivity.

3. What about the Future or the Past? While being in the moment typically means de-emphasizing both past and future, how exactly to do that varies widely. On one hand, the enjoyable part of ‘living in the present’ is cutting oneself off from both undesirable memories of the past and worrisome consequences in the future. In other words, the tendency in this approach is to only focus on the NOW.

In comparison, the present moment can be understood to be intimately and seamlessly connected to both past and presence in a way that is important to remember and consider.  The focus on the NOW, from this vantage point, is not exclusive or blinding to the wisdom of the past or the considerations of the future.

4. How is the ‘Outside’ World Seen? As a final difference, these contrasting approaches to ‘living in the moment’ relate to the outside world in a very different way. On one hand, we are hardly present to anything external. When attention is given to these outside entities, they are most commonly framed as an object for our own use.  If push comes to shove, and you need to sacrifice something – you more likely to opt out. Life ‘in the moment,’ in this sense is primarily focused on pursing the well-being of self.

On the other hand, we are very much present to external needs – with a strong interest in the needs and well-being of something outside oneself.  To the point that the ‘outside’ world is not actually outside in the sense of separable.  Life ‘in the moment,’ in this sense, is primarily focused on primarily pursuing the well-being of others.

The first set of answers correspond to what is most commonly seen as “living in the moment:  Driven, prioritizing physical/emotional aspects of self, as well as one’s own well-being and hardly present to anything external, let alone the future or the past. For those who adopt this approach, the entire focus goes towards the experience of pleasure – my pleasure – in this moment occupies the whole of attention.  “I want to feel good!!”

The second set of answers correspond to what Buddhist and Christian thinkers would see as “living in the moment”:  In charge, fully present to all aspects of self and equally attentive to the well-being of others and external obligations – not to mention the  as well as to contingencies of past and future.  For those who adopt this approach, the entire focus goes on the entirety of the moment – whatever it is – not limiting oneself to only the body or emotions, only oneself, or only this moment.

Obviously, these approaches are seen and evaluated in dramatically different ways.  As many point out and even more have to discover for themselves, there is a narrowness to the first approach, not often acknowledged in its slick marketing campaigns.  Indeed, the first approach to ‘living in the moment’ is touted in its highly superior marketing budget as the uniform key to happiness, joy and peace:  Want to enjoy life?  Do whatever you want, whenever you want it – no matter what others say or what might go wrong:  Live in the moment!  Live the Vida Loca!  From this perspective, even the driven aspect of life is welcomed and romanticized as exciting and ‘sexy.’

The second approach is celebrated in sacred text – and the life of believers – as a pathway to happiness.  For me, at least, this same contrast is reflected in the scriptural duel between being “carnally-minded” and “spiritually-minded” (Romans 8:6; 2 Nephi 9:39) – both present and engaged…but in very different ways, with very different pathways ahead.

The purpose here is simply to point out that there are two very different kinds of “being in the moment”- acknowledging these differences – so a choice between them is more distinct.