What’s the Point of Anything, or, Everything?

In some ways, I was your typical depressed teenager. While I certainly had exciting and goofy times with my friends, I would also spend hours brooding. My tendency to look inward might have come from my family. It might also have been a symptom of my brain pruning its neural connections–a biological reality that occurs during everyone’s adolescence. Whatever its reason, my melancholy invited me to consider the big questions. What really is the meaning of it all?

Now, several decades, several careers, and several faith communities later, these questions haven’t abandoned me. But perhaps age, numerous heartbreaks, many joys, and a deliberate effort to transform myself have changed how I engage them.

Gone are the days of naïve idealism! Gone are the decades of blissful unawareness! Gone are the incessant strivings for impossible perfection! Gone are the persistent heapings of shame and self-recrimination when I perceive myself a failure!

If only life were so simple.

True, I have experienced some deep and lasting change. But I have also had to put the work in. And, if I have learned anything, the work continues. It will always continue. It will continue to the day of my physical death. It might continue beyond, depending on your perspective.

It seems the Work is the one constant in life. Change may be another. But if I want the change in myself to be ongoing, I’ve got to put the work in. So what’s the point of it all, if anything?

The Work is the one constant in life.

Here’s what I believe:

The purpose of grappling with the meaning of life is to consciously explore and manifest the cosmotheandric principle.

What does that mean!?

The word cosmotheandric was invented by Roman Catholic philosopher Raimon Panikkar. It combines three Greek words: cosmos, theos, and anthropos.

According to Panikkar, the cosmos is the domain of matter. It is the physical universe that surrrounds us and supports us.

Theos, in contrast, is the domain of the Divine, the Great Mystery. Sometimes this can be called “God”. But from Panikkar’s perspective, the word “God” is too limiting. Ideas like “the Divine” or “the Great Mystery” are more inclusive, and therefore present more possibilities.

Finally, anthropos is the human domain. It includes both the physical aspects of our existence, as well as our immaterial experience, like our emotions, thoughts, imaginings, and consciousness. The human integrates the physical and non-physical into a coherent whole.

“Cosmotheandric” thus indicates the deep interdependence of the physical, the Divine, and the human.

The cosmotheandric is the deep interdependence of the physical, Divine, and human.

Here’s one example of what this can look like:

Now that I’m in early middle age, I’m very aware of my habits. These are habits of thinking, of behaving, and of interacting. Some of my habits are healthy; some, not so much.

As I’ve understood how my body and brain interact, my habits not only appear in my body, but are primarily manifestations of structures in my brain. These structures were produced by my prior experiences, behaviours, attitudes, and choices. While I have some control over my habits, there are also a number of factors that helped them form of which I am largely unaware. These include my genetics, my temperament, my family of origin, and my responses to trauma, among others.

If I have a spiritual practice like meditation, for example, this allows me to become aware of my habits and to observe them. In effect, my practice teaches me to step outside myself and observe myself relatively objectively.

Yet when I step outside myself, I am also moving into a larger domain that includes all of what I am — physical and non-physical. But this larger domain is also characterized by an infinite vastness I can never contain completely within myself.

This infinite vastness might be what Panikkar calls the Divine — theos. My body is the physical — cosmos. My thoughts, emotions, and experiences, as mediated by my body, are the human — anthropos. I am therefore beginning to experience the cosmotheandric within myself.

I can experience the cosmotheandric within myself.

As my practice takes deeper root, my habits begin to change. By observing my habits, I can now choose whether to engage them or not.

In introducing the element of choice, my body also begins to change. Because I am observing my habits, my brain is not automatically travelling the neural pathways that make my habits habits. I am essentially re-wiring my brain, simply by taking the time to observe what is going on inside me.

By actively engaging the theos within me, then, the expression of cosmos in my body changes. I, as an anthropos, am engaging an activity that changes my experience of my humanness in relation to the Divine and the cosmic. As the horizon of my engagement widens, my embrace of the cosmotheandric fundamentally transforms my way of being in the world.

My embrace of the cosmotheandric fundamentally transforms my way of being in the world.

Now I am choosing which of my habits to engage and which to abandon, people start to notice some differences in me.

I am not as angry with my frustrating coworker as before. Instead of snacking on junk food as usual, I am going for walks with friends. Instead of brooding on perceived slights, I am openly discussing relational tensions with the other people involved.

My inner theos thus restructures my anthropos, and my cosmic body responds.

My body is not carrying stress the way it once was: I can lose weight; I feel more energetic; my mood is more consistently positive; I am treating myself as an integrated and integrating whole.

The cosmotheandric helps me see myself as part of a larger whole–everything, absolutely everything, is interrelated and interconnected.

In the cosmotheandric everything, absolutely everything, is interrelated and interconnected.

Too often in the western world we see ourselves as separate from everything else. Some say we are too individualistic. There is some truth to this. Yet I suspect the situation is more complicated.

More likely, we have fragmented the cosmotheandric, focusing on only parts of it to the detriment of others.

When we focus only on the physical cosmos we likely become attached to material objects. We desire to accumulate wealth and possessions while ignoring the human and the Divine.

When we focus only on the Divine theos we likely become caught up in defining and defending orthodoxies. This can result in human oppression and the neglect of the physical universe in the name of following “god’s truth”.

When we focus only the human anthropos we likely get bound up in self-indulgence. Stating our own truth and meeting our own desires prevents us from seeing the Divine in all things. We therefore only appreciate other people and the physical universe when they help us meet our goals for ourselves.

When we embody the cosmotheandric, in contrast, it helps us hold all aspects of reality in balance. Yes, at times we will emphasize the cosmic, theic, or anthropic. But we do this to maintain the balance of the overall whole.

The cosmotheandric holds all aspects of reality in balance.

If taken seriously, then, grappling with the cosmotheandric can be a vehicle for deep transformation–personal, collective, and cosmic.

Yet the cosmotheandric is only one version of ultimate meaning. There are others. I offer it here as one way to understand the meaning of it all. My depressed teenager self would likely not have grasped it, nor endorsed its path toward transformation.

Whether accepted or not, the cosmotheandric still presents one compelling picture of reality’s true nature and how we as humans fit into it.

Ultimately, all of us have to choose from among many multiple realities which realities we call our own. The cosmotheandric is but one among these possibilities.

May your choice of reality be blessed. Writing this summary has blessed me. I pray you will be blessed similarly by reading it.

References

Cozolino, L.J. (2017). The Neuroscience of Psychotherapy: Healing the Social Brain, 3rd edition. New York, NY: Norton.

Lasair, S. (in press). HAVE-H: Five Attitudes for a Narratively Grounded and Embodied Spirituality. Journal of Pastoral Care & Counseling.

Panikkar, R. (2010). The Rhythm of Being: The Unbroken Trinity. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Press.

Disclaimer: The advice and suggestions offered on this site are not substitutes for consultation with qualified mental or spiritual health professionals. The perspectives offered here are those of the author, not of those professionals with whom readers might have relationships as clients or patients. In crisis situations, readers are encouraged to contact these professionals for appropriate support and treatment if needed.