It still seems strange that Thomas Merton, a devout Catholic author and Trappist Monk, could have so strongly influenced my life. On the surface, we had nothing in common. It felt like Merton was giving me a language for my life, as if we were restless brothers.
When Henri Nouwen writes about the false life, he describes it as being “clothed” in the bandages of the false self, like the Invisible Man being wrapped, mummy-like, in long, winding strips of clothes.” That’s what it felt like.
This idea struck the most profound chord in me, as I felt I was suffocating inside of those coffins of lies. I wanted to discover my true self; I never wanted to be someone else.
I took all his books, retreated to a cabin on a mountaintop, and wrote about him. My year on the mountain made me think in solitude and silence about who I am.
The book I wrote about that year was called Running To The Mountain, and the stars were Thomas Merton and two Yellow Labs, Julius and Stanley. The book was not a best seller, and my publisher didn’t like it very much and didn’t support it.
The three of us were alone for half a year; it was almost a monastic life, and no better guide exists than Merton. I read his books and journals every day.
After the year of isolation, I sold the cabin and bought a farm. My life changed, piece by piece, until I had left the familiar behind. I am beginning to recognize myself.
Merton’s book “No Man Is An Island” also made a deep impression on me, along with his other writing, and I still think of this passage, the one that changed my life the most:
“Why do we have to spend our lives striving to be something we would never want to be if we only knew what we wanted? Why do we waste our time doing things opposite of what we were made for if we only stop to think about them?”
I had no answers, just questions. I knew I was leading a false life and needed to find the real one, for better or worse. That process is still underway and will almost certainly last for the rest of my life.
In his book “New Seeds Of Contemplation,” Merton wrote:
“Thus, I use my life in the desire for pleasures and the thirst for experiences, power, honor, knowledge, and love, to clothe this false self and construct its nothingness into something objectively real. And I wind experiences around myself and cover myself with pleasures and glory, like bandages, to make myself perceptible to myself and the world as if I were an invisible body that could only become visible when something visible covered its surface.”
Like Merton, I feel that I was clothed in the false. I was a best-selling author with a dying heart.
I needed to discover who I was and become my true self, not the false one I was paid handsomely to be.
The life I had been living was not the one I ever imagined, sought, or examined. That person was nothing more than a mask that I wore. My curse was that I was so good at it.
And I saw that and knew it right away. Since then, for almost 20 years, I have been working to be the person I am, not the person I had somehow allowed myself to be. It is hard, fruitful, and exhilarating work. It is the most rewarding work I’ve ever done.
I’m not quite there yet and may never fully arrive at that truth. But I’m getting closer and getting better. My spiritual work has helped me see and face the reality.
When I consider myself now, I feel different. I think I am gradually moving towards becoming my authentic true self and away from the false one. I feel lighter, stronger, happier, and much more honest.
Before becoming my true self, I had to confront the false one that many of us spend a lifetime constructing, nourishing, and hiding from.
Merton got me started. Maria helped me along. So did my farm and the animals in my life. But only one can cast aside a false self and live in pride with the real one.
Jon, my son recommended your book “Running to The Mountain” to me back in 2000 after we moved to Vermont from Texas. I had retired 10 years earlier from a bank in Texas. Hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993 and my wife waited for me in Vermont. Once I completed the Trail we came back to her rented condo in Ludlow. We stayed in VT for a couple of months for me to recover and then returned for 6 more summers before we made the decision to move. I’ve attended a couple of your book readings and even invited you to have lunch with me once. We have a lot in common and I’d still like to spend some time with you.
I just turned 73 and am the happiest I’ve ever been. Not much $, but meaningful work, a peaceful home. A young dog to keep me moving, a good community. Every day, I work on becoming a better person: more compassionate, less judgemental. And every day, more loving people come into my life.
Running to the Mountain was the first of your books that I read…have followed you through your books and now
your blog ever since…the mountain, I think was one of the first of your spiritual teachers and I enjoyed that book
so much.
Thanks for sharing about the book and how living that life helped you because the person you are today. It explains why your blog is so important to so many. Keep on with your work. Thanks! Mary
Your writing about Merton and Neuwen has made me want to reread their books. It’s been many years since I have and I’m now in a position where I want to dip into their wisdom once again.
Another blog reader here who loved “Running to the Mountain”. I think I’ve thanked you before for that wonderful book-but thanks again.
Jon, I read “Running to the Mountain” years ago, and loved it, in spite of your publisher’s beliefs. Your writing echoed my own existential crisis – the longing to break free, the feeling that if I didn’t I was going to die, the need to be authentic and someone other than whom others expected me to be. I wanted to live without the titles – not just female, mom, wife, daughter, neighbor, friend, sister – just human, person. I’ve lived my own internal version of running to the mountain for the last 20 years. It’s been the best/worst journey! Best meaning actually feeling comfortable in my own chosen skin, worst meaning the near constant struggle to let go of old dug-in beliefs and dogma and creating new ones that fit. Quitting drinking and drugs was easier, for God’s sake, than this journey! And I can’t go backwards. Many thanks to you sharing your journey, for I have guides that I can consult when I feel like I don’t want to do this any more.
I read your Running To The Mountain book after you wrote about it on your blog. I thoroughly enjoyed it and it gave me a better sense of who you were then VS who you’ve become. I read your blog and support it when I can. I’ve heeded your call to help the Bishop Gibbons sewing program a few years ago, when I sent a big box of patterns along with a few years worth of Burda magazines with trace off patterns. I also sent a roll of tracing “fabric” and a small box of old jewelry. I’m sure they enjoyed them.
Reading your blog, especially lately has given me a great deal of perspective. I enjoy the evolution.
Watching Maria’s creativity, I’m blown away by her use of color in her pot holders and quilts. The photos you both post have often made me gasp in awe.
Your ‘Running to the Mountain’ has been sitting in my ‘to read someday’ pile, but I’m moving it closer to the top as of today. I’m reading ‘Heaven and Earth Grocery Store’ right now, and loving it…and I think that was one of your many great book recommendations.
Running To The Mountain cemented my love for your books. Somehow you were another real person going through a spiritual cleansing and awakening and the bonus was the rural setting and the dogs. Exactly what I was looking for in that moment.