This pair of related essays does a good job at times capturing an idea that I've been mulling around for awhile: how secularists pick and choose aspects of religion that are mostly aimed at becoming more effective managers of their time and emotions, so they can grab small snippets of quiet in between the extended bouts of productivity and consumerism that dominate their lives. When compared to the collective nature of historical religious traditions, this individualistic effort leaves people alone and isolated in their spiritual journey, and usually lacking the peace they seek.
"This plundering reflex — where the secular raids the spiritual for booty — has been noted before. In Susan Sontag’s essay Piety without Content,
the great critic derides the tendency of intellectuals to vaguely pick
and choose spiritual and religious ideas without actually committing to
any of them:
This is piety without content, a
religiosity without either faith or observance….for the modern post
religious man the religious museum..is without walls; he can pick and
choose as he likes, and be committed to nothing except his own reverent
spectatorship.
- Susan Sontag
Still, living in the largely non-religious west, I have sympathy for
those who will take sources of meaning and belonging wherever they can
get them. There are riches in religious traditions that can be
life-giving elsewhere, and striving to be healthy and productive are
laudable goals. But Sam Byers’ book made me realise that at worst the
use of ‘spirituality-lite’ in service of this goal is a kind of cultural
appropriation which severs fruits from roots and leaves you with an
armful of dead flowers.
Spirituality which just equips us to be better foot soldiers in a
market society characterised by desperate consumption and expressive
individualism is not spirituality at all."
https://unherd.com/thepost/wellness-is-no-replacement-for-religion/
"To see at work the contradictory impulses and
injunctions we’re daily expected to reconcile, you might begin by
immersing yourself, as Maya does, in our collective online existence.
Here, through a kaleidoscope of inspirational Instagram quotes,
revolutionary praxis, artfully prepared food and effortless-seeming yoga
poses, profound contradictions are reconfigured as a series of
seductive adjacencies. The language of rebellion and anarchy merges
seamlessly with the language of self-help. We are encouraged to
challenge power, punch up, resist. And yet at the same time we are
exhorted to grow and glow, strive, achieve, become. The result
is an excruciating double bind. Only through a more robust sense of
self, we believe, can we muster the rebellious energy by which the
unjust world around us might be changed. And yet, deep down, we know the
truth: that our unjust world depends for its survival on the very
project of selfhood in which we’re all so desperately over-invested.
Many
of these tensions collide most spectacularly in the world of wellness,
where disciplines such as yoga and meditation, which once took as their
goal the dissolution of the self, are pressed into the service of a
bolstered ego and enhanced productivity. In this telling, freedom, like
the equally mythologised idea of “happiness”, is no longer a collective
goal but a small and fiercely defended box of personal space, accessed
through a crushing regimen of self-improvement, in which we are free to
be our best imaginable selves"
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2021/mar/29/we-will-have-to-choose-our-apocalypse-the-cost-of-freedom-after-the-pandemic