I follow a spiritual path.  Some people call it a spiritual journey.  Either way, there is an implication of motion.  I am not standing still.  I am traveling.  On my journey I meet other travelers.  We exchange experiences and impressions.  We encourage one another in our growth.  We may walk together for brief intervals, but mostly we travel alone. 

Just as in a literal journey, some of us carry heavy baggage.  Others pack light.  Sometimes we pack our suitcase with souvenirs, only to arrive home with some of them broken.  Our heaviest bags are usually the preconceived ideas and judgments we carry with us.  As I progress, I am dropping a lot of this excess poundage. 

When I started down this road, my heaviest bag was Christianity.  For most of my life, I had considered myself a Christian.  I needed to adhere to a defined belief system.  As I grow, I no longer need a clearly defined structure for my beliefs.  In fact, my spirituality could be called nebulous. 

The word nebulous can take on a negative connotation, as in “unclear” or “weak.”  Nebulous means cloud-like; misty; hazy; lacking a definite form.  I think the formless is beautiful.  I like to go that formless part of my mind where new ideas emerge.  I love the romantic image of mist covering the mountains. A crystal clear sky is not always the most beautiful.  Mist and clouds reflect and refract light creating beautiful sunsets. 

I need to let go of the concepts and doctrines of Christianity.  I cannot claim to know what will happen after my death.  I know nothing about an afterlife.  I do not know where mind or consciousness goes after death and I believe that the body succumbs to physical decay.  I do not believe in “the resurrection of the body,” as Christians do.  There is very little concrete definition to my spiritual beliefs, and I see that as progress.  I feel unburdened by shedding my “Christianity.” 

I still read and wish to follow the teachings of Jesus.  I still pray.  But now, I don’t have any predetermined agenda.  I can respect Christianity as a tradition and want my children to learn about it, but I don’t want us to be hindered by notions of Heaven or Hell, the judgment to come, the life everlasting, original sin or any other Christian precepts or concepts.  For example, I will never tell my sons, as I was told as a child, “If you have premarital sex God will not bless your marriage,” or “Satan is always lurking nearby to defeat you.” 

Jesus said, “You will know them by their fruit,” and the fruit that distinguishes Christians from other faiths is not charity.  Jews, Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus and Taoists are also charitable, as are atheists.  Christians are not the only ones giving aid to the sick and poor.  Christians are also not distinguished by their message of hope.  In fact, many preach about the end of the world and the great destruction to come.  The main distinguishing feature of Christianity that I can see is its evangelism.  Christians have traditionally worked hard to convert others to their faith. 

In disclaiming my Christianity, I am not singling out the Christian faith as worse than the other alternatives.  In general, religious doctrine is a burden to people.  I simply prefer spiritual development to religious indoctrination.  This has been my viewpoint for a long time, but I have persisted in calling myself a Christian when asked about my faith.  Usually, it comes out as, “I am a Christian, but…” If I need to qualify my Christianity, then it is probably not serving me well as a belief system.  Other Christians will undoubtedly agree with me.  We all have the right to claim our beliefs with joy and confidence. 

I joyfully claim my nebulous spirituality.  I embrace my own values.  The cultivation and pursuit of the following values form my spiritual practice: 1) Love, 2) Awareness, 3) Compassion and 4) Equanimity.  There are certainly aspects of the Christian faith that are at odds with these values, for example: an emphasis on sin and the need for redemption; the concept of salvation; a focus on the afterlife rather than the here and now.  There are many more opposing concepts, but those three alone are enough motivation for me to disengage from Christian faith. 

How will I practice going forward?  I will continue to pray.  I will continue to meditate.  I will continue to read the Bible along with religious texts from other faiths.  I will practice yoga.  I will acquaint myself more and more with presence. 

Am I still a cultural Christian?  Of course.  I will still put up a Christmas tree.  I will attend religious services with other family members who request that I do so.  I will educate my sons in the tradition of their ancestors and culture.  But instead of teaching them that “Jesus is the Reason for the Season,” I will tell them how Christmas was conceived.  They will learn about the pagan traditions that influenced Christian holidays and the development of the Gregorian calendar.  They will also learn about the unique and life changing teachings of Jesus Christ, whether or not they choose to adopt Christianity as a belief system.  After all, they will be free to choose their own values as they grow.  Although I cannot know this now, perhaps one day our individual paths will dissect.

I have been interviewing a lot of advisors lately.  I write a local column about spirituality, Spirit Beat. The column features a different spiritual perspective or practice each week.  To write Spirit Beat, I have to connect with people who are on a spiritual path.  Most of these people are in the business of helping others, so they have theories and advice to share.  I truly enjoy listening to and writing about all of them.  This process is helping me to connect with my community and to define my own spirituality. 

While I love gathering various theosophical perspectives, I have to be careful to remain detached from the work.  On a personal level, I have to exercise discernment.  Discernment is defined as “keenness of insight and judgment.”  I believe that discernment is personal to each one of us.  Only we know what is going to work for us and what is not.  Only I know what perspectives are enriching to me and will help me to make sense of my life and relationships. 

As children, we are constantly bombarded by messages from authority figures.  Everyone tells us how to be and what to do: our parents, school principals, teachers, counselors, aunts and uncles.  As adults, we don’t necessarily think about being guided by authority figures, but we are.  Many people relate to doctors as authority figures.  “She wrote me a prescription for this medication, so I have to take it.”  Accountants are financial authority figures.  Lawyers, psychologists and real estate agents advise us.  We may not think of following professional advice as an act of obedience, but any time we surrender control of our own will to comply with someone else’s opinion, we are giving our power away.  Of course, we willingly cede to the advice of others when it benefits us and when we need help.  This is obviously the right thing to do, for our own self-preservation. 

In following the advice of other people, whether hired professionals or trusted friends, it is a good idea to check in with our inner guidance.  If my doctor tells me to take a medication that I think I do not need, I am going to research it and decide for myself.  I have done this in the past and found out later that I was improperly diagnosed.  By contrast, on an interpersonal level, I find myself listening not only to the people I interview for my column, but to almost anyone who has an opinion to share with me.  I really want to know what people think and more often than not, I will give a lot of thought to what they say.  I internally give other people the same credence that I give myself.  This tendency of mine can be a real handicap.  I care too much about the opinions of others, to the point that I second guess my own choices.  I know I am not alone in this predicament.  So what is the solution? 

When reacting to external information from any source, we need to become empowered internally.  We need to access the authority figure within us.  We can listen to the words.  We can genuinely like the person who is talking.  In most instances, if someone is advising you they are well-meaning.  That’s why we don’t shoot Jehovah’s Witnesses.  Even if we don’t like the missionary, we can respect the mission.  That doesn’t mean that we have to comply with the advice or even take it seriously.  This is where discernment comes in.  Am I able to separate what someone is telling me from what I personally believe to be true?  Can I hold their advice up to the light of my own truth?  I am finding out that I can.  I can respect you and me, and follow my own path all the same. 

How am I applying this with respect to Spirit Beat?  I listen to what people say.  I generally admire the individual expertise of each person.  When I am able to sort out the information I have gathered, I give myself some mental space.  This space allows me the room to change my own mind if I want to.  That way I can incorporate new things I learn.  In this space, I can also interview myself.  “How do you feel about this?  How does this compare to what you believe?”  It is a moment where I simultaneously open up and create a boundary.  I don’t want to be closed, but my mind needs shelter.  Within the structure of my internal wisdom, there is always room for an outside perspective. 

We can call on our powers of discernment in every informational exchange.  It is an ability we tend to forget we possess.  We live in a culture where people read headlines and run for cover.  We don’t have to be those people.  You are at the center of your school, and you are your own guidance counselor.  If you are confused about a class, knock on the counselor’s door and talk it out.  You’ll be glad you did.

When my father asked me why I chose to baptize my children, I began to articulate my individual beliefs.  I do not belong to a church and my spiritual practices are in no way institutionalized.  This is true for the majority of Americans and applies particularly to my generation.  Nonetheless, most parents I know have held some sort of religious ceremony for their infants or young children.  In March, I attended a bris for the first time.  My twin nephews were recently baptized.  Following these events, I thought more seriously about planning a baptism for my own sons. 

My father is adamantly opposed to organized religion.  I have many friends and acquaintances who agree with him.  Religion can be divisive and exclusionary.  Fundamentalist religious practices have caused great harm to humanity by spreading fear, hatred and violence.  Christianity in particular is associated with intolerance, war and genocide.  My Dad wanted to know how it was possible for me to baptize my children into a church that continues to ostracize homosexuals and includes teachings about Hell in its liturgy.  Since I had already given it some thought, my answers to his questions came easily. 

Institutions are created by and for humans.  Human behavior does not follow simple patterns.  No person is all good or all bad.  Pitting good vs. evil is convenient, but simplistic.  I find it impossible to separate institutions from the people that created them.  I have yet to see one political, religious or social movement that does no harm.  I made a common argument to my father; Christian institutions have acted both beneficially and destructively over history.  He replied that I might say the same thing about the Nazis.  For obvious reasons, I disagree.  I continue to believe that our relationships with institutions are much like our relationships with individuals: we take what good we can from them, attempt to exist peacefully with them and support or oppose them according to our conscience.  One iron-clad approach does not fit all.  I do not fully condone or contest any person or any group. 

I do not oppose any religion.  I understand the energy of opposition.  Formerly I worked in the law and will likely re-enter the practice in the future.  I know how to entrench myself in a cause.  Lawyers argue one side of an issue irrespective of their personal beliefs.  In litigation and transactional practice, the law requires adherence to one side.  Many people who are not lawyers live life in that way, supporting Y and opposing X, an approach that I find myopic.  Resistance requires force and the outcome often disappoints.  Hence, I try to spend less time resisting and more time cooperating. 

Religious rites are acts of tribal affiliation.  This is particularly evident in marriage and baptism rituals.  Humans find comfort in belonging.  We commemorate our belonging to a larger group through adherence to cultural rites.  Our spiritual inclinations are organized into religious systems.  When we affiliate with a religion, we affirm our belonging to a tribe.  Christianity historically united a large number of tribes under one banner.  Human tribes go to war with one another; they also create favorable alliances.  If we evolve in another direction and tribal loyalties become obsolete, religion may one day disappear.  The importance of religion in modern Western society is diminishing, but in many parts of the world religion continues to dominate thought and behavior.  Even in our part of the world, most every person interacts with a religious institution on some level.  It takes effort to avoid all weddings, funerals, and any other events with a presiding religious official.  Religion has an impact on our lives, irrespective of what we believe. 

Choosing to baptize a child is a clear and direct action in support of Christianity.  When I chose to have my sons baptized in the same church and by the pastor who baptized me, I affirmed my ancestry.  I affirmed my cultural heritage.  I affirmed a church community.  I also affirmed a part of who I am and what I believe.  While I do not endorse every belief and practice of the Lutheran church, I cannot dismiss it as the initial source of my religious education.  I am very grateful for the education I received and for the love and support that was shown to me as a child in the church where I was confirmed and had my first communion.  I will not dismiss the value of affiliation in the nurturance of a child.  It is important to belong; this is an undeniable human need.  Religious rituals for children are intended to be sweet and memorable occasions, and for our family, this intent was preserved. 

In preparation for my sons’ baptism, I promised the two presiding pastors that I would educate my sons in the Christian tradition.  Indeed, I intend for my children to learn about the Old and New Testaments of the Bible.  In addition to the Hebrew and Christian Bibles, I intend for them to study the texts of all spiritual traditions.  As they get older, I would like to be able to talk about the Bhagavad Gita, the Koran, the Tao Teh Ching, the Yoga Sutras, the Vedas, the Upanishads and any other texts that we can discover together.  I will teach them not to hate, exclude or discriminate.  I will attempt to raise them in an open and affirming tradition.  As a family, we will honor the divine within ourselves through respecting these outward expressions of divinity.  At the same time, my sons will benefit from the context of a particular familial and cultural tradition.

Studying the Tao Teh Ching broadens my view of spirit.  Upon hearing or reading the chapters, echoes of Christian teachings resurface in my mind.  There is clarity where there was once imprecision.  Chapter Twenty is dense with concepts that are basic, yet perpetually misunderstood: In high truth, is there any difference between yes and no?  Between good and evil, is there any absolute distinction?  Must one fear what everyone fears? It is still too early for the subtle truth to dawn on those who are so self-assertive.

A major stumbling block for followers of Western spiritual traditions is the insistence upon duality.  In Chapter Twenty of the Tao Teh Ching, duality of thought is contrasted with the subtle truth.  For a wise man, it is foolish to hold on to certainty.  Christianity is a Western tradition unfailingly positing good against evil.  My way out of this quagmire is to refine my understanding of what is meant by evil, freeing the concept from traditional cultural trappings.  Letting go of the common definition of evil, the following New Testament passage reflects the truth of the Tao:  Again, you have heard that the ancients were told, ‘YOU SHALL NOT MAKE FALSE VOWS, BUT SHALL FULFILL YOUR VOWS TO THE LORD.’ But I say to you, make no oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is the footstool of His feet, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King.  Nor shall you make an oath by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black.  But let your statement be, ‘Yes, yes’ or ‘No, no’ and anything beyond these is of evil. MATTHEW 5:33-37. In this passage, I understand “evil” to mean harmful.  Jesus taught that rigidity of thought and certainty of opinion are foolish, the message of these verses.  We become trapped in our insistence upon black and white, thereby doing harm to ourselves and others.  This attitude separates us from the subtle truth.  Therein lies the congruence between Lao Tzu and Jesus on the assertion of absolute truth.

Intellectual wisdom and worldly knowledge were equally shunned by Jesus and Lao Tzu.  The concepts of subtle wisdom and the innate knowledge of the soul are elusive and unfamiliar to most.  Nonetheless, we are asked to abandon our intellects for our hearts as we progress on a spiritual journey.  The isolation inherent in such a process is described in Chapter Twenty of the Tao Teh Ching: The people of the world have more than enough.  I alone appear to have nothing.  The people of the world appear shrewd and wise.  I alone look foolish.  I like to be forgotten by the world and left alone. Jesus was also known for his practice of withdrawing from other people to meditate.  His demeanor and behavior were at odds with the masses.  Now when Jesus saw a crowd around him, he gave orders to depart to the other side.  And a certain scribe came and said to him, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.”  And Jesus said to him, “The foxes of the air have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” The solitary path of the subtle truth is lonely and unpopular.  Again echoing this sentiment, Lao Tzu wrote in Chapter Twenty, Everyone seems so clever and self-assured.  I alone appear unlearned and original, insistent upon a different direction than other people pursue.  I alone value taking my sustenance from the Mother. Speaking of truth and wisdom, Jesus prayed thus, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, thank you for hiding these things from those who think themselves wise and clever, and for revealing them to the childlike. MATTHEW 11: 25.

The practice of comparing these texts is intellectual, yet it leads me to a place in the heart.  It is of great comfort to me to draw parallels between diverse traditions.  I am reminded that in spite of external conflicts, there is a middle place where the cultures of the world can meet in spirit; it is “Love,” it is “Tao,” it is Yoga (union).  Whatever we choose to call it or which vehicle we use to reach it, it is there.

Everyone who drinks of this water shall thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life. –JOHN 4: 13-14

One who embraces the subtle essence dies yet does not perish and enjoys true immortality. -TAO TEH CHING, CHAPTER 33

This is the bread which came down out of heaven; not as the fathers ate, and died, he who eats this bread shall live forever. […] It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh profits nothing; the words that I have spoken to you are spirit and are life. -JOHN 6: 58, 63

Christianity emphasizes the concept of eternal life; the true believer is promised a life everlasting.  Along with Islam, Christianity is criticized for its insistence upon an afterlife and the belief that our existence on Earth is a mere preparation for eternity in the Kingdom of God.  What is meant by “eternal life?”

I was surprised to find references to eternal life in the Tao Teh Ching.  Here was an opportunity to approach this concept from a different cultural perspective.

In placing these Taoist and Christian verses side by side, we see that the “bread of life” and “living water” are metaphors for the subtle essence of the universe.  They are a resource available to us, an ever present truth that is simple, yet impossible to grasp.  You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. -JOHN 8:32.  Grasp it, but it is beyond your reach. […] There is nothing that can make this subtle essence of the universe distinct. -TAO TEH CHING, CHAPTER 14. The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit. –JOHN 3:8.

Our culture wants to make all things literal.  We strive to rationalize and simplify.  We have heard people say, “Every word of the Bible is true,” and other such meaningless statements.  Because the reported words of Jesus have been filtered through the lens of interpretation for over two thousand years, the truth in Jesus’ words is veiled in deeper layers of mystery.  This is why comparative study with other spiritual texts is so illuminating.

Those of us with strong faith believe that spiritual truth is universal.  We know it is omnipresent.  It has existed in all places from time immemorial.  Seeing it expressed by other writers, from other traditions, in fresh permutations can unlock new doors in our hearts and minds.

So what does it mean to have eternal life?  Which is the part of us that lives on? How may we drink living water and embrace the subtle essence of the universe?  According to Jesus, we must be born again, of the spirit.  Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. […] unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. -JOHN 3: 3,5. According to Lao Tzu, we must renew ourselves.  Renewal and rebirth are parallel concepts. Yet, they all must return to the root again, each to its simple source.  Knowing to return to the root is to be refreshed.  This is called subtle revitalization. To know constant renewal is to have achieved clarity. -TAO TEH CHING, CHAPTER 16.

Spirit is not evident to us.  The subtle essence of the universe is not apparent.  Jesus taught the “way”, indeed, he said that he is the way, the truth and the life.  The Tao Teh Ching teaches the subtle way of the universe.  Jesus was crucified by men.  Lao Tzu wrote, The subtle Way of the universe appears to lack strength, yet its power is inexhaustible. TAO TEH CHING, CHAPTER 4.

I was driving my family home yesterday when we were in a four car pileup on I-78 in New Jersey.  A light rain was falling, and I had been thinking to myself, “These are perfect conditions for hydroplaning.”  There was a lot of sluggish traffic in three lanes, not managing to move past the speed limit.  Impatient drivers were passing on the right and tailgating, so in an effort to remain safe I did not react when two cars cut me off by passing me on the right and then tailgating each other.  Unfortunately, one of those cars hit the other one not long after they passed me.  So immediately I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that the car behind me was not going to be able to stop.  I was braking and figuring out if there was any way out of what looked like a very dangerous predicament.  Nope.  No way out.  So I said, “Brace yourself!”  Somehow I went into body consciousness mode and prepared for an impact.  I still don’t know exactly how I did it or how I managed not to hit the car in front of me even though the car that crashed into the back of us was totaled.  I felt my head fly back and hit the headrest but nothing hurt.  My son Alec woke up but did not cry and Rhys, my youngest, only cried after we had stopped and he realized what had happened.  Out of the four cars full of passengers, only two people had very minor injuries.  I was extremely relieved and not at all mad at the drivers who had been so careless and aggressive. 

This happened in the same week that I had flipped off the driver of an Escalade through the sunroof while driving on the Saw Mill River Parkway.  The Escalade was driving 90 mph and got right up on my bumper when I was behind another car in the left lane.  Of course I could not move over and the car in front of me was not able to get over.  I also had the kids in the car with me then.  I waited to flip the guy off after the car in front of me got over, and then I got over and he sped past.  I was disappointed in myself for flipping someone off but I thought in that moment that if there were a way to murder him and not get caught, I totally would have.  A lot of people have issues with angry driving, and honestly, this only happens to me when people are being that recklessly indifferent to the lives of others.  Yesterday, in the rain, there was no way I was going to get angry at other drivers on a summer weekend with loads of traffic.  How pointless. 

Today, I’m a little peeved that I now have to pay a $500 deductible to fix my destroyed exhaust system and bumper because some college students were in a big hurry to the detriment everyone else on I-78.  I was the only person not at fault in the accident.  Had I been less focused or more emotional, there definitely would have been more injuries.  What makes it even sadder is that the woman driving behind me was clearly very poor and her car was totaled.  I don’t think she has insurance and she had three kids with her.  She couldn’t get her car to stop because it had old tires and brakes.  So her life is going to be dramatically more affected than ours or especially the female college students that were in front of us.  The only reaction these girls had to the event was to mock the police officer when he wasn’t looking by imitating his walk. Their cars were not nearly as badly damaged because they didn’t hit each other very hard, but their reaction was to stop really quickly, in the left lane! 

The best thing to come out of the accident was the feeling of extreme gratitude for my family’s safety and the lack of serious injuries for everyone else involved.  I tried to make the driver who was in front of us feel better by high fiving her when we got out of our cars.  I think that really took her by surprise!  I said, “Hey, I managed not to hit you, high five!”  Maybe she felt bad when she saw five children emerging from the cars behind her. 

This experience made me think about the Buddhist practice of mindful driving.  Practicing mindfulness while driving is obviously not traditional meditation where you close your eyes and tune out.  It is more like mindful walking, where your increased focus and awareness make you more careful and alert. 

Since I have had issues with losing my temper in the car in the past, I try to be mindful when I am behind the wheel.  I don’t shut off the music or send metta (lovingkindness) to all drivers who pass me.  I would like to get to that point, but I don’t see it happening soon.  I do try to empty my head of chatter and relax my body.  I do focus on the act of driving and I allow that focus to bring peace and calm.  I become absorbed in the act of driving and I try to stay present with it, rather than thinking of it as a means to an end.  That can be challenging.  After all, the point of driving on the highway is usually to reach a destination.  This is why it is so difficult for most people to remain present while driving.  It’s the “are we there yet?” mentality.  There is also the tendency of the ego to assert itself by remaining in the left lane and passing every other driver. 

After yesterday’s crash, my approach to mindful driving has improved.  I now realize that it is not just about controlling reactions or turning driving into a more peaceful experience.  Mindful driving saves lives.  As difficult as it may seem, I do intend to send loving thoughts to drivers who cut me off or crawl up my rear end.  Even if I can’t feel loving in that situation, I will say the words out loud in the hope that I can eventually reprogram myself.  Less impatience on the road means fewer injuries and fatalities.  I am letting it start with me.

June 10, 2010

Heaven is everlasting and Earth is perpetual.

Why so? Because they live

without holding onto any consciousness of self.

Therefore, they can endure forever.

One who does not separate his being

from the nature of universal wholeness

lives with the universal virtue of wholeness.

He, too, dissolves all consciousness of self

and lives as the universe.

By putting himself behind others,

he finds himself foremost.

By not considering his own personal ends,

his personal life is accomplished.

He finds himself safe, secure and preserved.

Because he does not hold a narrow concept of self,

his true nature can fully merge

with the one universal life.

-TAO TE CHING, CHAPTER 7.

For we know that if the earthly tent which is our house is torn down, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. –II CORINTHIANS 5:1

For thine is the Kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. –MATTHEW 6:8

But many who are first will be last: and the last, first. –MATTHEW 19:30

But the greatest among you shall be your servant.  And whoever exalts himself shall be humbled: and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted. –MATTHEW 23:11-12

Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself. –PHILIPPINANS 2:3

In Chapter Seven of the Tao The Ching we first encounter the theme of the eternal nature of Spirit.  Our bodies die, but we perceive the Universe as everlasting.  This common thread unites diverse traditions.

How can we access the eternal within ourselves?  Where does our identity merge with the Universal identity?  How are we One and how do we access the One? The way to do this according to Lao Tzu is to “live without holding onto any consciousness of self.”  What does this mean?  Put others before yourself.  Seek to attain the quality of humility.  Jesus taught the same principle of selfless service.

In a culture of self-consciousness, we are often at odds with these teachings.   We are preoccupied with our appearance and outward success.  Looking in the mirror, we see only ourselves.

Can we be self-aware without being self-conscious?  If so, is this self-love? Jesus taught, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself—there is no greater commandment.” –MARK 12:31

When our awareness shifts from ego to love, we touch our eternal nature and become one with the Universe.  This is our challenge.

The scriptural passages above are from The Complete Works of Lao Tzu, Translation and Elucidation by Hua-Ching Ni, and The New American Standard Bible.

Why are you a teacher? What made you decide to study physics? Why do you travel for your job? Why stay home with children? Why did you get married? I like to ask these “why” questions, but I normally reserve them for just the right person or occasion. I can always ask myself why I am doing something without fear of offense or intrusion; so I do.

If we know the why behind the what, then we are lucky. If we don’t like the what, the why can can be our jail key. If we do like the what, the why is a nice bonus. We each have different gifts…and also different needs.

In elementary school, my friend resolved to become a doctor when she was diagnosed with childhood diabetes. Thirty years later, she is indeed a doctor.

A law school friend told me that she chose her field to advocate for others because she felt oppressed throughout her childhood. When she had needed a real advocate no one was there to fill that void. Now she advocates for others, accepting that her own life experiences revealed her calling.

A clinical psychologist once told me that part of her journey to heal from childhood sexual abuse and religious dysfunction was learning and practicing psychotherapy. In the process, she was able to guide the healing of others.

Certain professions have an obvious motivation–others less so. Some professionals have an entirely different motivation than that which appears on the surface.

Some people claim that life decisions are more the product of circumstance than of intention. In the short term, this is believable. What happens when the circumstances change and intention can guide daily pursuits? What happens when we discover our intentions?

For the very first time, I am open to the possibility that circumstances are perceived rather than imposed. I am willing to act based on authentic intention. Authentic intention is the marriage of purpose and desire. So often there is a purpose without desire or a desire unguided by purpose. I am allowing my authentic intention to unfold. This is a new kind of freedom precluding statements of certainty. I would rather be prohibited by freedom than propelled by false intention.

When the Why precedes the What, there is no dead end. The path is wide open.

I feel like the more divorce we see as kids, and the more enmeshed we are with our parents and their struggles, the more we shut down in certain areas in marriage. I know this because I used to be married to someone who had divorced parents as well. Then I married someone from a happy, conventional family. In my first marriage, there were all sorts of pieces missing. There was an unquestioned status quo that finally gave out with very little drama. It was like, “OK, so this is useless. Good luck!” This time there is much more emphasis on communication, consistency and keeping things above board.

For me, the biggest challenge is feeling comfortable with real stability
and security. I visited this issue in my 20’s and then managed to forget about it. The second biggest challenge is finding contentment in monogamy, in the emotional and physical sense. I didn’t even like having long term boyfriends when I was younger. This may very well stem from abandonment fears. Beyond the initial thrill of new intimacy, there is a period of committment that feels very good. Beyond that initial period there is a routine. The routine sometimes feels good and other times produces zero feeling or an anxious feeling. This is what I have discovered. It makes sense that I don’t feel comfortable being consistently loved by someone over a long period of time, because it is a new experience for me. In my formative experiences I was loved for a while and then the person would leave, act abusive or both. There were very good periods always followed by bad periods and no way to tell what
was around the corner. I felt comfortable that way and even euphoric when changes would occur. This lasted into college.

Jumping from a lifetime of chaos to a lifetime of supposed domestic
stability is quite difficult. When I was in my 20’s and did not have
children, it didn’t matter that it was difficult. Now, until recently, I
have not consciously realized that it is difficult. I have had anxiety
that has manifested physically. The actual anxiety was never examined.

When I was engaged the second time I began thinking about other men. I completely passed it off as normal. I was then immediately pregnant upon marrying so that took up my focus for quite some time. Then I had a new baby and was pregnant again very soon thereafter. Now that I have some distance from child bearing, I am looking at the monogamy issue again. Why does this feel unnatural to me? I do not want it to feel unnatural.

I am learning to allow myself to be loved and enjoy it. It is almost like
relaxing into a new or challenging yoga pose. If I am loved for very long by someone, I generally start to get uncomfortable in that situation and look for ways to sabotage it. I can convince myself that I am truly happy in my marriage, yet I am thinking about things or people that would harm it. This conflict creates anxiety and tension. If I go back to the place I was when I started the thoughts of sabotage, I can ask myself what was happening then. What was happening? I was in a loving, consistent relationship. How did I feel? Somewhat absent and anxious. Then I can let go of any feeling and start anew. I can let go and wait. If I wait and something else comes into my mind that is distracting, I can learn to let that thing go and stay mindful. If I can be mindful in the midst of my good life, then I can learn to love it and feel comfortable with it.
That is the goal.

With children, there is much less of an issue. It is easier to feel
comfortable loving my children and being in the parent role. I attribute this to a lack of fear. Even though I am not consciously aware of my abandonment fears with my husband, it makes sense that the fears would exist. Even when I start to see negative patterns surfacing with my kids, it is much easier to step back. I can look at where I want to be and get there quickly. Also, my relationship with my kids feels forever new, challenging and exciting. I continue to get to know them because they continue to change and they fascinate me.

Adults also change continually, but the communication mechanisms in
marriage can turn lackluster if they are not constantly upgraded. It is
difficult to remain aware of a partner’s continual growth and renewal. We take for granted that they are the same. Even they want us to think that they are the same because it takes more work to revolutionize the dynamic. Why not keep the dynamic the same… if it isn’t broken don’t fix it. The problem with this mentality is that people won’t know the dynamic is broken until it’s too late.

Marriage is challenging even for people who come from traditional families. For those of us from families with one or more divorces, long-term love can be daunting. It is easy to underestimate this difficulty, and to overcompensate by masking it entirely. Once the challenge is masked by the lies we tell ourselves to feel competent and worthy, it takes concerted effort to get unmired. I am learning how to do that work. Ironically, the main tasks are relaxing into love and letting it in. Effort that quickly turns into good feelings is more than worthwhile!

Many spiritual teachers and alternative healers tell us that we create the conditions in our body with our thoughts. Do you agree with this, and if so, to what extent?

I recently watched a recorded speech given by Eckhart Tolle. He spoke about the death of human bodies. He said “bodies dissolve.” He did not limit talk of death to the elderly, but he did mention that as we get older we start to look around and notice more and more bodies dissolving. I liked the terms he used to speak of illness and death. I listen to Eckhart because he is accepting of the human condition and he radiates compassion.

I like my body. I accept it. I take care of it by eating well, avoiding most toxins and exercising regularly.

I do not consciously fear death. In the past I was afraid of illness. My attitude with respect to illness has changed dramatically in recent years. I was fortunate enough to be extremely healthy for 34 years. To this day, I consider myself healthy.

At the age of 35, I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. My diagnosis came months after I contracted Lyme. Initially I experienced a painful nerve injury which paralyzed the left side of my face. I partially recovered from this injury. I also experienced back and neck pain, insomnia, fatigue, mental fog and a heart arrhythmia with a partial block. After a month of treatment with antibiotics, most of those symptoms subsided. I forgot about Lyme for the most part.

In recent weeks I am experiencing some of my initial symptoms again. I am looking into Lyme disease recurrence or what some people call “chronic Lyme.” I am not sure if it applies to me or if my symptoms can be explained by something else. I am amazed once again by how great I felt before the Lyme and also after receiving the antibiotic treatment. I don’t even feel all that bad now. I doubt that the Lyme and the ensuing symptoms are the result of my thoughts. I am not saying this is impossible. I simply doubt the theory.

Illness can be psychosomatic. Illnesses are often brought on by stress. Negative thinking patterns are certainly unhealthy. At the same time, all of us experience illness. We show love to ourselves and others by responding to illness with compassion. As we progress spiritually, we learn to accept phenomena rather than resisting. I love acceptance and what it can do for me. I feel better when I accept temporary and even permanent discomfort rather than resisting with my will, my feelings and my thoughts. I don’t like the dualistic view that puts illness and death at odds with wellness and life.

Most likely you have heard of or read Louise Hay. She is a revolutionary healer, teacher and writer. Metaphysicians, alternative healers and holistic minded people everywhere respect her work. She has authored multiple best sellers. In her books, You Can Heal Your Body and You Can Heal Your Life, she has a fairly comprehensive List of physical ailments followed by their probable mental causes and recommended affirmations for overcoming the ailments. Like many alternative healers, she refers to illness as “dis-ease,” a condition that disrupts the natural state of ease. She does not have a cause listed for Lyme dis-ease, but she does address malaria, a related illness. The probable cause of malaria in Hay’s List is, “Out of balance with nature and with life.” On an unrelated note, her listed probable cause for fistula is, “Fear. A blockage in the letting-go process.” If you have not heard of fistula, you may want to google it. I donate to a wonderful charity for this dis-ease: http://www.fightfistula.org/

The term “dis-ease” calls to mind the Four Noble Truths of Dukkha in Buddhist teachings. The philosophical meaning of dukkha is analogous to “disquietude,” as in the condition of being disturbed. The term is usually translated as suffering. Here is a definition from Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta: Setting the Wheel of Dharma in Motion: “Now this, monks, is the Noble Truth of dukkha: Birth is dukkha, aging is dukkha, death is dukkha; sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, & despair are dukkha; association with the unbeloved is dukkha; separation from the loved is dukkha; not getting what is wanted is dukkha. In short, the five clinging-aggregates are dukkha.”

My approach to overcoming disquietude of any form is to accept it and find peace through meditation, prayer, yoga and other spiritual practices. I also try to pinpoint any thoughts that may contribute to disquietude, but I don’t have a set of affirmations or a plan to combat bodily discomfort through changing my thoughts. I accept some of my negative thoughts and feelings. I don’t particularly like dualism so I try not to spend too much time parsing out the good and bad in my mind. I feel that this could lead to obsessive thoughts and behaviors. I like the idea of letting go of thoughts, even if I am rarely able to do so.

I accept dis-ease as part of life. I am grateful for the opportunity that illness provides to care for myself and my loved ones with more love and diligence.