This post mentions details from Severance seasons one and two. Watch first to avoid spoilers! It is part 2 of yesterday’s post “Tensions with our Premortal “Outies:” Thoughts in Dialogue with Severance”

Another application of Severance to spiritual development in addition to yesterday’s post is relationships with our past selves who were “all in,” and not so perplexed by religious life.

In Severance, Lumon is not just a company; it is also a secular religious institution founded in 1865 by a man named Kier Eagan. It’s really very odd–the religion seems to be very secretive and esoteric. The “outies” don’t even seem to know the religious aspect exists, yet it is imposed on them as severed employees. Old company handbooks are treated like scripture. Wax figures of past CEOs are reminiscent of deities at a temple, and company events are glorified in paintings displayed around the office building. Kier religion is authoritarian and top-down. Severed workers are beholden to the teachings, objectives, and policies Kier established like teens at boarding school under a strict headmaster whether they like it or not. The purpose of this aspect of the story is in part to explore and critique something called “corporate Gnosticism,” a term for when select leaders within an organization act as if they possess special, secret knowledge that is essential to administer it.

Some severed workers are enthusiastic about Kier religion. Others are not, but all of the members of the “Macro-data Refinement” team the show focuses on have become subdued by the authority, punishments, and incentives of the company such that the religion controls their behavior and their lives at the beginning of season one.

Each team member, except Helly R., whose narrative arc as the rebellious, depressed newbie is different, undergoes a transformation comparable to a faith transition. Each takes on more of a more independent, differentiated status by exploring outside their office space and team, subverting supervisors’ authority, and finding an ingenious way to exit the Lumon building to experience life outside. 

Mark starts out as a submissive employee. Trips to the punitive “break-room” have conditioned him to be this way. He only seems to live for friendship, but his best friend at Lumon (Petie) has left the company in mysterious way. The unexpected appearance of a self-help book at the office leads Mark to develop an urge to to reframe everything about what it means to have a job and to start to rebel against his employers.

Dylan starts out very satiated by childish work prizes, such as erasers and Chinese finger traps. One day, the company awakens his innie self at home using a technique he didn’t know about. Just a few seconds receiving a hug from his outie’s young son leads him to become determined to know more about his life outside and to fight his employers for more rights.  

Irving is the most orthodox person on the team. He quotes passages of the company handbook regularly as a wisdom text and treats Lumon’s museum space, the “Perpetuity Wing” like a shrine. Irving falls in love with another severed employee and spends time with him against Lumon’s wishes. Supervisor Milchik punishes Irving by forcing his lover Burt into early retirement, essentially a death for a severed innie. Irving’s once zealous trust in the company suddenly dies.

These characters’ experiences are relevant to the question of how we relate to our past selves when we undergo shifts in our religious lives. I’m not saying the Church is an evil corporation, but I am suggesting that like Lumon, the Church tends to try to control adults as if they are in need of authoritative parenting. And like Lumon, it has tendencies to use fear tactics and questionable rewards to motivate and deter behaviors. When we watch these characters, many us of can relate to their experience of waking up to the fact that they don’t want a life that is dictated by others. And watching how Kier and the tradition he established are glorified and treated like a supreme paternal authority might remind us of our experiences in Mormonism–whether this amuses us, disturbs us, or both! Both were established by one young man in 1800s America after all. But honestly, it reminds me of how many religions glorify their founding stories and mythologies. In some ways, what is depicted more closely resembles approaches in Islam or Baha’i faith. Their founders inhabit a significantly higher spiritual space than we place Joseph Smith in.

I’m also not saying that the proper outcome of spiritual growth or a faith transition is necessarily leaving the church or fighting it as an institution, but I am suggesting spiritual growth requires seeking to learn about things as they really are, maturing emotionally, claiming the personal moral autonomy that is healthy for adults, and dealing with a whole lot of discomfort. If we want to grow, we can’t avoid these experiences, both pleasant and unpleasant. The growth experience I’m referring to here is about aligning with and tapping into our higher, fully developed adult selves whether we’re religious or not, participating in Church or not, not about achieving one kind of “right” outcome.

If you’re like me, you’ve faced moments of self-loathing or shame in relation to both your past and present selves after transitions in your faith and spirituality. We might feel embarrassed about how we used to be. Or have harsh feelings toward our current selves. Two iterations of ourselves wrestle together–one that on some level still identifies as a loyal “innie,” and one that is determined to grow despite risks.

How do the characters on Severance respond to their transitions? In a nutshell, they continue to grow, love and relationships become more important to them, and the possibility of living more fully opens to them. For the first time, Mark doesn’t just tolerate work but feels excited about it. Being awakened to his personal desires and agency makes what he already valued– friendship–even better than what it was before. While before as a boss, he literally read off the Lumon script, now he creates his own plans and becomes a true leader. Moving into season two, his confidence, courage, and closeness to others continues to grow. He explores even deeper into Lumon’s labyrinthian halls, pursues his own goals (such as finding Ms. Casey) rather than Lumon’s mandates, and even pursues personal joy through romance and intimacy with Helly.

Dylan becomes a more mature and courageous person. Once sheepish and fearful of any rules being broken, now he physical attacks Milchick in response to his abuses and endures great physical pains and personal risk to enable his teammates to experience the world outside by activating the “overtime contingency” function. In season two, things become conflicted for Dylan because Lumon hatches an scheme to control him through promising time with his outie’s family as rewards. They accept Dylan can’t be motivated by lame prizes anymore. This manipulation disrupts his collaboration with his team and his newfound confidence. He won’t help Irving search for a door to the outside, and meeting his wife isn’t all good. He learns from her that her husband has always struggled to hold down a job. Disappointed and surprised, Dylan makes a comment about his outie being a screw-up. Time will tell how Dylan continues to develop and whether he’ll continue to be partly controlled by Lumon!

Irving might have the most reason to be embarrassed of the past or to cling to it, but he doesn’t indulge this. Instead, in season one, he embraces his new-found independence and expanded range of emotions, dropping the things he doesn’t value anymore, and taking the things he does (his love of Burt, especially). Once the most conned by Lumon, Irving goes on to become the most discerning and daring of the characters, which we see develop more in season two. His shift of worldview has allowed him to really tap into his intelligence. Irving discovers that an exports hall with some kind of exit to the outside world exists somewhere close in Lumon’s halls based on paintings he saw in his outie’s house. It is Irving who sniffs out that Helena has deceitfully replaced Helly through noticing subtle changes in her personality and details that don’t line up in her false story about the outside world. He has the courage to immediately remedy this violating situation. He has become a sort of detective. Irving’s growth and learning also bring sorrow and despair. Losing Burt and learning that he appears to be happily coupled in the outside world lead him to poor mental health; love and romance are what his innie seems to desire most.

Watching these characters as they grow and face challenges reminds me to move onward in my spiritual life without longing for the past, clinging to orthodoxy or the safety of submission, or showing contempt for my past self. I want to be more like these characters in their moments of courage and growth than I have been in real life. They remind me that when we undergo major shifts and periods of growth, we need to exercise intentional self-compassion toward both our past “innie” selves and our current evolving selves. We need to leave the past behind and refrain from beating ourselves up.

When we “taste” the fruits of personal growth, we know that it’s is good for us and what we need; it is much like ideas suggested in the Adam and Eve story or Alma 32. The fruit is good and delicious or it’s not; we can know with confidence that we are growing and that this is good for our souls.

Becoming more knowledgeable, wiser, stronger, more loving, more mature people is exactly what we need. It can bring sorrow, greater vulnerability, and obstacles. But it can also bring incredible expansion, freedom, and joy. Our personal growth and learning to love are in my mind the most important reasons we’re here on earth. Watching Mark’s team reminds me to keep moving forward with confidence that I am indeed on the right path whenever I choose learning and personal growth over comfort, excessive security, or stagnation. There is no need to look back with longing or regret.

Severance also reminds me that one of the best things about personal emotional and spiritual growth is that it consistently enables us to connect more deeply with others and to collaborate with them more in our journeys. It is only after their transitions that the Macro-data Refinement team are able to become emotionally close and to really collaborate with one another about things they care about. At times, they create incredible synergy as they share with each other and brainstorm plans.

It’s really not fun or comfortable being a liminal member of the Church, but I wouldn’t trade the increased closeness I feel with others in my life or learning and growing together with others–esp. my siblings, and Mormon friends both in and out of the Church–for anything. Overall, the spiritual growth I’m experiencing is a healing and joyful path shared with others that feels like exactly what God intended for me all along. 

Sometimes I notice friends doubting their role and influence on others. Friends of mine often suffer from a sinking feeling of guilt, for example, if a friend or family member we’re close to or have supported becomes inactive, joins a different faith group, or leaves the Church. But we need not feel any guilt if we’ve been our honest selves, have shared good resources, and have respectfully supported others in making their own choices. Let go of the fears you are ruining things for others or affecting their lives for bad. We’re all in this together on a path of development and becoming strong and wiser people, making the choices that are best for ourselves. God knows it is complicated. And sometimes people really need to use their agency to differentiate religiously in order to keep growing in the ways that are right for them.

A couple final Thoughts about integrating the self

Ultimately, we don’t have two selves, each of us is one progressing whole who is worthy of love and compassion however we evolve as we gain experience. It’s okay that I embraced some black and white thinking in my teens and twenties and sometimes cared about pleasing authority figures. That was developmentally normal and understandable at the time. And it’s okay that I think and feel very differently today. I feel joy that I have progressed. There are things I loved about myself then, and there are things I love about myself now, and many of them are the same. 

I’m seeking to internalize the fact that my identity and spirituality as a human transcends and extends beyond my Mormon identity and upbringing in the Church. I had an experience recently when I saw myself as someone else who loves me would see me from the outside. I saw my spiritual strengths and gifts, I saw my openness toward and love for others, I saw the wisdom and skills I have gained. And I perceived distinctly that Mormonism didn’t “make” me and cannot be given full credit for who and what I am or what I am capable of, including spiritually (much as I do affirm that I feel I have benefitted from having it as a spiritual community, framework, and anchor to ground my life in). I felt so much peace about who I am in that moment, and I felt confident that however I will need to grow and evolve spiritually in the future, I am an undivided, whole self. I can trust my own discernment and intuitions about what is right for me, rather than feel scared that I will betray past or future iterations of myself. 

I’m very curious to see what kinds of experience characters in Severance season two may have as they may attempt to reintegrate themselves into one mind and one life. Marks’s arc suggests love will be the motivating factor of the risk of total integration. I really hope this will be a healing and incredible thing for them if it happens.