Leaving the Religion of Science
Ten months ago, I moved my mom into our house for health reasons.
One month ago, in the wee hours of the night, we called an ambulance to drive her to the ER because she couldn’t stand up, sit up, or even roll over because her leg hurt too much.
There have been a few key moments in my life where I’ve “known” something. It’s not exactly predicting the future - sometimes it’s just an inkling that something awful is coming, sometimes it’s more specific.
In high school, I knew where I was going to for college. I was so certain, I only applied to one school (and a week before I was accepted, I had a total panic attack - “omfg, what have I done?! If I don’t get in I’m screwed!” etc.).
A few years ago, I told Matt to be careful on his commute - something was horribly off that day and I wanted him to be extra careful. Later that afternoon, he called to say the company was doing a staff reduction and he was no longer employed.
Or during the pandemic, I didn’t think you could pick out a pet online, especially not with how quickly they were being adopted. Then I clicked on a listing and said out loud, “oh, that’s my dog.” Violet’s been here now for 3 years.
I could go on, I have many more of these.
There’s smaller moments, too. Like when I sat still at a blind intersection after the light turned green, not moving, no clue why. And then a car that I couldn’t see or hear came flying through the intersection, well after their light had turned red. I said “whoa,” and moved on about my day unscathed.
Or all the unknowable - but accurate - details that come up in readings for others. (I’m not offering these currently, so don’t worry, this isn’t about to become a sales pitch.) I cannot ignore the hundreds of times that something came up that made no sense to me, but was perfectly clear to someone else … ranging from something as simple as blueberries to massive life changes.
Or how I would feel something change in my body in the same area that someone else was hurting, without being told of their pain.
I have a (very) hard time believing in these moments, because I grew up in the religion of science.
Science and spirituality, I have been learning in recent years, don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Proving “how” something works through science, doesn’t necessarily explain “why” something happens (which spirituality can begin to touch on, though it’ll never fully explain it, either). Science regularly conflates “how” with “why,” and unlearning that is something I’m still working on.
When you’re in the religion of science, there’s no room for other explanations. It’s either science or it doesn’t exist.
So I didn’t believe in these moments of knowing at first. It was fluke. Coincidence.
But I’m learning otherwise. I’m believing otherwise.
And when my mom drove away in the ambulance, I had a knowing moment.
“Wow. so … that’s over.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what was over. Was she dying? Was the dementia going to make my “real mom” too hard to engage with going forward?
What I knew for certain was that the era of my mom living with us was over.
My brain didn’t know it yet. I wrestled for the first week with how we might support her at home going forward. But as her time in the hospital progressed we recognized that it was time to move her to a new level of care.
I have a lot of topics that I can write about as a result of these 9 months, like …
Unexpected change.
The total mindfrrk of living with (someone else’s) dementia, and how that screwed with our lives in ways no one expected.
Or why I believe life is about embracing limits and experiencing feelings … and not running away from both.
There’s enough that when I sat down to write this piece, I didn’t know what it was going to be about.
I only knew the first two lines. Ten months ago … One month ago.
My mom has since moved into an adult care home. We got very lucky … for now. The cost is prohibitive (y’all, elderly care runs between $6k-$12k monthly…?!) so I don’t quite know what this future holds.
But I have a feeling it will work out, or more specifically, I have a feeling that cost won’t be a pressing issue long-term.
So if there’s any point in this post today, it’s that there is something more than science - there is a connection we have to a different realm that let’s us intuit things we can’t know otherwise.
And of critical importance: science doesn’t need to be thrown out to believe in that realm, either. I can take antibiotics when I need them, get stuck with that needle every fall, and also know that there’s times where I have access to … something else.
And I’m learning to believe.