Psychological capacity is a forward proxy to spiritual capacity.

Starting off strong with the technical terms: what's a forward proxy anyways? In the world of software, a forward proxy is a server (aka, a computer) that sits between your computer and the internet. It receives and processes incoming requests from your browser.

Examples: You know how you try to watch a show on Netflix, but the app blocks it because the show isn’t available in your country? You can use a VPN (a type of forward proxy) to mask your IP address and trick Netflix into thinking you’re somewhere else. The VPN acts as an intermediary, swapping your real IP address (which reveals your location) with a different one. It tricks Netflix into thinking you're somewhere else.

Damn, enough with the nerdy stuff already. What's the metaphor?

Our psychological reality sits between us and our spiritual reality. While they are distinct parts of the architecture of self-knowledge and interconnectedness, psychology and spirituality influence each other intimately. Information flows from our psychological reality to our spiritual reality, and the parameters of the former often determine what we can receive from the latter.

Fancy words, nice ideas, but what does that mean?

Here’s how I see it in my own life: my psychological limits and strengths have a direct correlation to my spiritual limits and strengths. I love the Bahá'í Faith, but my capacity for devotion to it is limited. The Faith was weaponized against me growing up.

Without delving too deep, here’s a small example: whenever I disagreed with my mother, she would send me emails quoting the Bahá'í Writings about respecting parents. It was her way of proxying greater authority (God, the Bahá'í Faith) to prove how wrong I was. She enjoyed being right and used God as her backup.

I’ve also seen loved ones derail their lives in the name of devotion to the Faith. Whether it was giving away life savings or sacrificing careers for the Bahá'í community, these were frightening examples. Ironically, I don’t think the Faith ever intended for people to lose themselves in such extremes. It seemed like they were bargaining for a piece of heaven, but at what cost?

I may not be a dog (or maybe I am in some sense, not the worst thing), but I’ve been Pavlov’d: being attacked under the guise of the Bahá'í Faith created a negative association. Using divine authority to tell someone they’re wrong isn’t exactly a recipe for cultivating spiritual love. Seeing others wreck their financial and social stability in devotion didn’t help either.

So, while I love the Bahá'í Faith in my own way, I have limits. I have psychological associations. A younger version of me might have wanted to devote more of my life to the Faith, but I simply can’t anymore.

My psychological reality shapes my spiritual reality, or at least my capacity to cultivate spirituality through the Bahá'í Faith. I know I can’t follow every law or teaching to the letter.

And I’m okay with that. I’ve accepted it.

I don’t know what judgment awaits me at the pearly gates, but I do know this: I’m doing my best.

So, even if my Abhá spirit points are fewer in the next life compared to someone else fully devoted to service, I trust that I’ll still net positive spiritually. I believe that capacity is weighted heavily when it comes to our judgment.

Maybe you have a spiritual practice or something greater you strive for. Maybe, like me, you’re human and have been hard on yourself for not doing more. Consider your capacity in the equation. Be gentle with yourself. Knowing your limits is admirable. Acceptance isn’t just the first forward step on the journey—it’s the key to growth.

Learn to work with your forward proxy, and you’ll find greater access to the world beyond it.