THIS IS A CONTINUATION of the previous post—if you want to understand everything in it, I suggest you start at the beginning.
That post ended with a question:
Do I have a right to my own beliefs?
I'm not so sure I do.
When I say to myself, "I have a right to my own beliefs," I hear myself saying that I have a sort of sovereign entitlement to believe whatever I want to—in spite of any evidence, or reason, or common sense.
If I want to believe in unicorns or fairies or ghosts, in Thor or Zeus or the coming of the great handkerchief, I have a perfect right—a sort of property right.
They're my beliefs.
I can do with them as I please.
And I don't think that's true.
I think I have a responsibility to behave rationally, and that includes a responsibility to believe rationally.
This isn't, by the way, a reverse swipe at my friend B's beliefs.
Oddly enough, I do think B has a right to B's own beliefs.
And this is where the grammar of spirituality comes in.
The meaning, the intent, and the emotional content of any sentence depends upon who is uttering it.
Consider the following two sentences:
"You have a right to your own beliefs." (Spoken by B, about me.)
"I have a right to my own beliefs." (Spoken by me, about myself.)
Both sentences should say the same thing.
The only difference between the two sentences is the difference in the pronouns: The difference between you and I.
Aha.
And since the words are said by different people, they refer to the same person—me, in both sentences.
But the meaning is entirely different.
Because when someone says "You have a right to your own beliefs," they are saying that it is not up to them to tell you what you have to believe.
A noble sentiment.
But when someone says, "I have a right to my own beliefs," they are saying that they don't need to take responsibility for their own beliefs, that they have a "right" to believe anything they want.
B's statement to me was a noble and enlightened gesture.
But when I changed the pronoun to say it about myself, it became an abdication of responsibility.
And this doesn't just apply to sentences about beliefs, or even to sentences that actually contain the pronouns "you" and "I".
The same thing happens in many contexts when we turn a phrase around to apply to ourselves instead of others.
"It's a free country."
Imagine yourself saying that to someone else.
What do you mean? What emotions go with it?
Generosity, right?
"Hey, I'm not going to try to get in your way. Do whatever you need to do. Feel free."
Now imagine you're saying it about yourself.
What's the meaning, the emotions?
Defiance. Anger.
"You'd better not get in my way. I have a right to do whatever I want no matter how much it upsets or effects you. I don't have to give a shit."
This happens all the time.
And, as the examples above show, it's most likely to happen with catch phrases—which we take to be truisms.
It's a kind of spiritual trap, and one we should be aware of.
At least, that's what I think today.
