Are you losing your religion?

(load this up to play in a separate tab, then read the article: https://youtu.be/FQ2yXWi0ppw?si=cVcov0_pQBPZFP1P)

"That's me in the corner, that's me in the spotlight, losing my religion..."

The haunting lyrics of R.E.M.'s "Losing My Religion" seem to voice an existential crisis, a moment where everything once-taken for granted is suddenly shrouded in doubt.

For many, these lyrics have been a melancholic anthem for periods of questioning and disconnection. The song seems to underscore the pain of feeling untethered—being in the "corner" or in the "spotlight," yet feeling profoundly isolated.

Yet, what if we flipped the narrative? What if "losing your religion" was not a crisis but an awakening—an invitation to scrutinise the very threads that tie us to beliefs, communities, and even our own self-image?

What if, in the unmooring, we find the freedom to sail towards a more genuine harbour?

In the unravelling of old certainties, you may find that the 'religion' you thought you were losing was never the core of your connection to the divine, to others, or to life's mysteries. Instead, you might discover that the essence of these connections is far more elemental and far-reaching than you ever imagined.

Unbinding from old beliefs or relationships doesn't have to mean isolation or aimlessness. It can be a journey towards re-binding with something even more authentic. In other words, losing your religion might be the first step in finding out what you're genuinely connected to.

The word 'religion' often conjures up images of pews, holy texts, and ritualistic practices.

But if we strip it down to its Latin roots, "religare" or "re-ligio", it simply means "to bind" or "to connect."

So, let's rephrase the question: What are you connected to?

"Life is bigger, bigger than you..."

The song captures a universal feeling—of being overwhelmed, of questioning. But within those questions, the song also invites us to see that life is 'bigger.' There's a larger tapestry made of connections that we're a part of—family, community, nature, values and ideals. These are the ligaments that hold us together.

"I thought that I heard you laughing, I thought that I heard you sing, I think I thought I saw you try..."

Our connections don't always have to be grandiose. They can be as simple as a shared laugh, a song, or even an attempt to reach out. These little threads, when woven together, form the web of our existence.

Don't corner yourself into believing that connection only means human interaction. It transcends that. It includes our interaction with nature, the work we do, the art we create, and even the solitude we sometimes seek. These 'spiritual ligaments' bind us to a reality much grander than our individual lives.

"Every whisper, every waking hour, I'm choosing my confessions..."

In an era of isolation—both digital and physical—the urgency of examining what binds us together has never been greater. Our social media feeds may show hundreds, even thousands of 'connections,' but how many of these are enriching?

How many nourish the soul, inspire growth, or offer comfort in times of distress?

We've reached a point where it's possible to be surrounded by people—both virtually and in reality—yet feel profoundly disconnected. In this complex web of interactions, it's crucial to choose wisely what binds us, what serves as our 'religion' in the broadest sense.

Whether we realise it or not, our daily choices—scrolling through social media, engaging in work, or even the simple act of taking a walk—these are all acts of 'choosing our religion,' of deciding what we want to be connected to. These choices serve as our compass, steering us through a sea of information, relationships, and opportunities.

But not all that glitters is gold. Some connections drain our energy, fill us with anxiety, or simply clutter our lives with noise. This makes it all the more critical to nurture and invest in the connections that truly enrich us—whether it's a deep conversation with a friend, a meaningful project at work, or a moment of stillness in nature.

"Consider this, consider this, the hint of the century..."

Maybe the song's title "Losing My Religion" isn't about loss at all but about reconsideration. As we go through life's twists and turns, it's worth considering and re-considering what we're genuinely connected to. It's a process of building, breaking and rebuilding.

And maybe in doing so, we find a new kind of 'religion,' one that sustains and enriches our lives.

Sometimes, losing your religion is the first step to finding your 'ligaments'—those precious connections that keep you whole.