At one of my meditation classes, a student asked me if I could tell her how to develop a spiritual life. I told her I couldn’t. Im not a Priest, Rabbi, Imam, or Prayer Leader.
I’m not Thomas Merton.
I don’t presume to know what other people should do, only what I did and am doing and felt I should do. I’m happy to share that. Different people have also asked. It’s good for me to think about it.
I am not, for all my pondering, a conventionally religious person.
I love the idea of God but don’t believe he exists in the way we are told he exists, if he exists at all as a single supernatural entity. Choosing to developed a spiritual life does not make me or anyone else religious; if the work is successful, it can make people like me more spiritual.
And perhaps better.
Every organized religion makes me uneasy sooner or later. I’m allergic to dogma.
Unlike most major religions, Spirituality does not offer a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
There is no pot, no gold there is no heaven, and there is no rainbow waiting for me.
The reward is temporal. The spirituality of my kind has brought more honesty, authenticity (they are different things), peace of mind, hope, and a strong sense of doing some good in the world and leaving it in a better place. When I die, I want the people who knew me to say I made things better when I could.
As the Buddhist writer Thich Nhat Hanh wrote, Spirituality is essential wisdom for getting through the storm. Life is a storm, I needed help.
The first step was thinking about who and what I wanted to be. I wanted to live gently on the Earth and be gentler to the earth.
I wanted a balance of time, work, love, creativity, and nature. I wanted them all to come together in a beautiful circle around me for as long as I lived.
I wanted to live close to nature, make room for silence and reflection, and do some good in the world daily. I believe nature is a key ingredient of my spirituality. Maria and I share this kind of spirituality.
I wanted to be a faithful and supportive husband, a kind and affirming father, an advocate for the animals in my charge, and a thoughtful writer who offered color, warmth, and thought.
I have always understood there is nowhere to go but inside as I age and live many struggles behind.
And that’s what the spiritual life is about – going in, going deep, and understanding what made me fearful, angry, or confused.
Thomas Merton told me what the first step was. It was finding a quiet place, free from the distractions and interruptions of our often chaotic and greedy world.
A place that was mine, a place to think, a place I could trust and was safe. A place to visit every day. It could be in an attic, a basement, a corner of the dining room, or a backyard porch.
It only had to be my quiet place.
The second step was to do the work.
Anything worth doing takes work, hard work, conviction, and discipline.
Distraction fueled by anxiety was always my poison. I wanted my spiritual life to change that. I needed my mind to learn how to be still and just think.
I went inside myself every day for as long as I could find the time. I came to see myself honestly. I liked some of what I saw, but I wouldn’t say I wanted some of what I saw. But I was ready for the truth. And I came to accept myself, flaws and all.
To have a spiritual lie, I decided it was time for a new kind of personal development, one of the few remaining opportunities I have at this point in life to improve.
I also saw it was a time to plan my days and months spiritually rather than have them slide by in anxiety, envy, or resentment.
I credit Donald Trump for my launch into a more profound spirituality.
There was so much anger and rage swirling around him like a storm cloud that I knew I wanted a softer, gentler life.
Politics is not a part of my spiritual development; it will never take up that much space in my head.
For me, our politics is a dangerous threat to any meaningful spiritual life. I am careful about what goes into my head.
It reminds me of eating spoiled food.
Most of what we call the news is not compatible with spiritual life.
Neither is greed or a lust for power.
A young writer contacted me recently and asked for my help establishing herself as a successful writer. What were your goals,” I asked?
“I want to sell a million books,” she said with great enthusiasm, “and change the world.” OK, I replied, but no one can give you a magic wand to do that. What work will you do to get there?”
She seemed stunned and disappointed and said she would call me back. She wanted to get off the phone.
She never did call me back. Like any success, Spirituality calls us to do the work first.
We can’t order up glory; it has to come by itself.
My spiritual goals were simple; I’m no St. Augustine.
I wanted to be happy doing my work, feeding the animals on the farm, taking pictures, talking to Maria, cooking, and shopping, and especially, to get in touch with my spiritual self, which was waiting patiently deep inside me to be freed.
This is my idea of balance, the core of spirituality.
I want to live a life free of self-pity, complaint, and grievance.
I’ve come to see Spirituality as a kind of surgery of the self. A way to love my imperfect soul and heal it simultaneously. A way to accept the truth about me.
I wanted to do nothing but good, a challenging goal. I’m not there yet, but I am doing more good than I ever imagined.
In my world, happiness is the only test of the good life.
I want to be happy, and the work is learning what that means and what I can do to achieve it. For me, it’s about accepting life as it is, not as we wish it were.
None of us can escape dying.
I believe in the natural order, and I respect it. My spiritual work has taught me that.
Day after day, no days off. I know I will never fully be there. I also know now that I am getting closer than ever before.
My medication practice – the window to the true self – has evolved and deepened. I go inside quickly and painlessly now.
I’m not yet the person I want to be, but I finally know what kind of person I am.
That has transformed me and helped me see how to live in peace with myself and others.
Everyone has a different idea of spirituality, I am sure. The only thing I am fairly certain about is that one needs the ability to be alone for periods of time, to be able to be one with your own mind without influence from anyone or any situation. It’s hard in the world we live in.
Many churches have Spiritual Advisors, often pastor seminarians or therapists in training, and will appoint one to help discuss and guide your journey if you ask.
Thanks Maurice, but I also think it’s important for people to know they don’t need advisers or seminarians to pursue a spiritual life…anyone can do it at any time..
Beautifully put.
thank you for this/jon/maria
Jon, you have already made my world better. I start every day by reading your blog, it is the first of my spiritual practices of my day.
Thanks Penny, that is very kind..
Whatever our religious beliefs, might be,
our goal should be:
“I MADE THINGS BETTER WHEN I COULD.”
Like Jon, that’s within our reach.
That’s what we all CAN and SHOULD do
everyday.
That’s living and doing “little acts of kindness”.
(Sometimes it’s toward yourself too, like taking care of yourself as you should. Often, I need to remember this.)
May we all do the best we are able to do.