Be Careful What You Ask For

Years ago a friend and mentor told me that every day he said a kind of prayer to know God's will for him. He said it with full earnestness, and then one day he was smacked right in the face with a challenge that was way bigger than he had ever imagined. It became his job but he told me, "Be careful what you ask for - you just might get it."

I have been asking for a way to learn how to stay vulnerable while doing the work for which I trained throughout my adult life. It turns out that there isn't really a way to learn it - like there is no step one then step two. Nor is there a way to just put one's big toe into the pool of vulnerability to test the water temperature. It appears to me that vulnerability, as a state of being, either is something you are
or you aren't. It's kind of like being pregnant - there is no such thing as somewhat pregnant. And my lesson of late is that it is the same with vulnerability. You either are or you are not.

So it has come to the point where I must jump into the deep end of the pool and decide to live this way. There is no other choice - I cannot turn back and and stay defended and closed any longer. It is no longer a choice I will make. And what has opened up the deep end to me is that I had to let go of the fear of "what will people think?" The answer came pretty clearly to me over the last few days of training in which I have been participating: They will think I am being vulnerable. And overall that is not such a bad thing.

Brene Brown says that vulnerability without boundaries is not vulnerability. It's stupidity! So it's not like choosing to be vulnerable and live life from a more transparent stand means walking around naked all day or through a tough neighborhood alone at night. It means creating safe places and conditions for vulnerability to live and pull us all together. And with that it means knowing that home and among friends are some of those places. At least it is where I am starting. And the more I practice that with the ones I love and trust, the more I am able to know how to bring it to life in the public world. Wish me luck!

The Dawning Light

Over the past few posts I have been writing about what feels a lot like a transformative path. As a part of that process I have been becoming aware of my senses - especially my emotions - in a whole way. It's not that I didn't have emotions; I just did not experience them this way before. 

We all have emotions – they are part of our basic programming for survival. However as with all other things, the emerging ego seizes them for it’s own purpose. Thus the three survival instincts, survival/security, affection/esteem, and power/control, become self-referential in service to the ego. That is, instead of emotions that give us information about safety or security, they become emotions that protect the “well-being” of the ego and turn narcissistic. Emotions like love and affection, which are part of our DNA as relational beings, become schemes for the ego to gain praise and further aggrandizement. No wonder why we don't trust our emotions!

Psychologists tell us that by the age of five we have learned 90% of our total vocabulary. But while we were learning those concepts about the world, most of our world was bigger, faster, and smarter than we were as little children. Therefore, as the ego is forming, it begins working on how to protect itself and how to get what it wants for its self-perception, all of which are based on what Alfred Adler called our perception of “inferiority” as little ones. By the age of four or five, when the ego differentiation is completed, and most of our beliefs about the world (and our place in that world) have been formed, the ego has seized control of our emotional tools and turned them into self-referential and self-centered gimmicks. Innately, we know that this is wrong and for the bulk of us who have not done the inner work of clearing out that narcissistic tendency, we begin distrusting our full set of emotions. We have emotions but they are off-kilter. Oh, granted there are those among our species who don't suffer this malady, and they are truly blessed. But I have not been one of them; in fact, it took a long time to get here!

But here’s the clincher: when the ego is finally killed off – whether through the dark night of the soul or through some deep wound to its self-constructed idolatry – we break through that superficial level of emotional responses back into the real true level of emotion. In this deeper, pure level of emotionality, unencumbered by the need for praise, or coddling, or ego-stroking, emotions are true barometers of the world and directional indicators for effective living. What’s more, we no longer have to “obey” the emotional information (as the tyrannical ego demanded) but can take it in as part of what we need to be listening to as we make our way through the present moment.

That is the part I have been trying to find words for: that breakthrough to a deeper level. And as an added benefit, with the death of the ego, intellect is freed from it’s demand to show up as the smartest kid in the room and can be in service to others.  Freed from ego's tyranny, my emotions and my intellect can be used as they are meant to be. My inner witness just needs to keep ego out of the room and both intellect and emotion can inform my whole self in right action, right work, … It may be the beginning of what the Buddha called "the eightfold path."

Rising Strong

Recently I have been reading Brene Brown's new book Rising Strong, and I love every page of it - take that as highly recommended reading! But I would like to offer a slightly different take on the comeback from adversity.

Modern cultures, and predominantly the cultures descended from white, Anglo-Saxon, alpha types, have adopted the mindset that obstacles are to be overcome. We are programmed to set goals and pursue them with abandon. I even have a t-shirt with the motto, "I don't stop for obstacles; I destroy them!" and another with a Gandhi quote about power being derived from "indomitable will." But the wisdom of mystics from all traditions tells us that there is another way. According to mystical wisdom, the goal is not to knock down every hurdle and barrier so that we remain unchanging, but rather to allow ourselves to be bent and shaped by nature so that we emerge as re-formed and wholly new creations of that encounter.

Listen to how Rilke describes it in his poem The Man Watching: "If only we would allow ourselves to be dominated, as things do by some immense storm, we would become strong too, and not need names." And the modern mystic poet, David Whyte puts it this way in Working Together: "We shape ourselves to fit this world and by the world are shaped again. The visible and the invisible working together, in common cause to produce the miraculous.
I am thinking of the way the intangible air passed at speed round a shaped wing easily holds out weight. So may we, in this life, trust to those elements we have yet to see or imagine, and look for the true shape of our own self, by forming it well to the great intangibles about us."

This journey of transformation has been one of learning to trust those great forces, and to listen to the creaks and moans of my branches and bones in the immense storm. It is allowing the forces in so that I might become one with nature, and in doing so, take my place as one with all humanity.  Like so many of us, I have spent my life amassing knowledge without understanding, chalking up credentials like so many bullet points on a resume. But in the words of Pope Francis, "Our goal is not to amass information or to satisfy curiosity, but rather to become painfully aware, to dare to turn what is happening to the world into our own personal suffering and thus to discover what each of us can do about it."

Rilke ends The Man Watching by saying, "Whoever was beaten by this Angel went away proud and strengthened and great from that harsh hand, that kneaded him as if to change his shape. Winning does not tempt that man. This is how he grows: by being defeated, decisively, by constantly greater things."

I have been awakened. I am feeling deeply (because I finally can). And while I may walk with a limp, like the Biblical wrestler of the angel, I have been resurrected as a stronger, and more fully alive human.

Fragile Power

With apologies for continuing the metaphor...

As I emerge from this transformation, just as the butterfly begins to open its wings, there is an sense of unknowing that lives just above the level of abject terror that arises from within. There is nothing in my memory as a caterpillar that has anything to do with wings, let alone flying. This new body seems far less rugged, in fact it feels frail, thin and vulnerable. And I have lost that voracious appetite for any and all things.

Yes - it is kind of like that. Only I can't seem to connect with the DNA that would instruct my wings to work yet and I've yet to experience a gentle wind that would lift me off this branch I seem to be so desperately clinging to. Perhaps I am not suited for butterfly life. Worm life was simple: eat, shed, grow, repeat, eat, shed, grow. This life seems not only fragile but finite. Something in me knows that there is not a next step after this form. And most certainly there is no way back.

But there must be some power in these wings. If only I can figure out how to use them I might begin to see what this branch is attached to and where it is in the bigger picture. With the power of wings I can see well more than the ground or leaves I walked on. I think that might be a great new perspective. But this fragile new power is very much an oxymoron. I have no clue what Paul meant by, "When I am weak, I am strong." Though I think it is dawning on me that "I have died and something else is living in me."

How Wings Are Formed

At this point, I am pretty certain, though I have absolutely no hard evidence to support this certitude, that there is absolutely no intentionality on the part of the caterpillar when it comes to forming wings. Most certainly though it is in the DNA of the caterpillar-turned-chrysalis that when guts are cooked for enough time inside the protective layer of the cocoon. But that operative word there is cooked.

This business of being transformed is not easily done nor is it without any associated discomfort. In fact I feel like it is as violent a process as the actual formation of the chrysalis in the first place. I was meditating last Sunday when the image of the crucifixion came into my mind, and instead of letting the intruding thought image float away down stream as I normally do with other intruders, I looked at it, and took it in.

I had always seen this image as one of death and pain - an execution of an innocent man - as well I should because that is what was happening. But this time I saw it differently. It is a very powerful image indeed, but not as an image of the scapegoat upon whom we placed our collective transgressions so that we could be cleansed. Nor was it significant as an icon of the "savior" conquering death so that we mere mortals now could have a free ticket to some beautiful vacation land called heaven. Not in the least!

It was an image of a man with his arms wide open - the posture we take when we see a long-lost friend - ready to embrace the beloved - welcoming whatever stories and hurts they brought back with them. Only this man, this one on the cross had no alternative, as his arms were nailed wide open. It suddenly occurred as THE message of the crucifixion - the "follow me" message. What if my arms were nailed wide open; what if I had no other choice than to welcome and accept whatever life threw at me with open arms?

Rumi's poem "Desire" starts with the line, "A lover knows only humility, he has no choice." While it is often taken as a purely love poem, ecstatic Sufism speaks of the Divine One as the Beloved and brings it down to the visceral corporeal level. I might paraphrase Rumi to say, the crucified knows only humility, he has no choice. The chrysalis knows only humility, he has no choice. Wings are forming and I must receive whatever this life offers - in full humility - I have no choice.

Greetings from Inside the Chrysalis

The really remarkable thing about my brother's photography (See my previous post on "You Thought It Was Easy?") is the process he used called "Focus Stacking" which provides an image so rich in detail that it can be blown up a hundred fold and still not pixelate. As the caterpillar turned to just worm-guts and then hardened its outer surface in the creation of the chrysalis, it was clear that there was no element of butterfly inside that package. And yet over the next few day's pictures, as the outer layer of that jade cocoon thinned you could see something happening. New lines and dark shapes could ever-so-faintly be seen through the surface. Change - real transformative change - was happening.

This creature just did what it was programmed in its DNA to do. But we humans, and this one in particular, far too often are wed to the past understanding of who we think we are.  Our memories of past successes and failures are blended and baked into a story that becomes our map for moving forward.  Constructivism (a field of psychology) says that we can only perceive new events within the context and framework for which we have a vocabulary and a basis of antecedent experiences with which to make sense of them. Actual "new: learning or behaviors are difficult to produce because we simply do not have the tools to produce them and we are too attached to the story already and always running in our mind. But what if that story (and that is what it is, the story we made up about what some event meant - not at all the actual event itself) is fictional? Mark Twain once quipped, "the older I get, the more vividly I can remember things that never happened!"

But inside the chrysalis, nothing of caterpillar, except for some of the worm guts, remain. Caterpillar is lost - not just forgotten - but totally gone forever. And that is what is called for in transformation: I must lose the story. All of it. I must lose the one about how I can do it by myself. Lose the story of how I am alone in this quest. Lose the story of "if you want something done right, do it yourself (thanks dad and Abe Lincoln for that one)." Lose the story that I am somehow better or stronger or more creative on my own than with any others as a pair, trio or group (Yes I know how arrogant that sounds - and inside here, that arrogance must die as well).

I am baffled as I peer through the enlarged picture of the cocoon and see what look like lines of a patterned wing are beginning to form. How is that possible? How can a black, yellow and white striped multi-legged worm lose all its defining characteristics and, as we will see in a few days, emerge as a skinny, six-legged insect with vibrantly colored orange and black wings. Transformation makes no logical sense.

You Thought It Was Easy?

For some years now I have been claiming that I am committed to helping others with their transformation all the while seemingly ignoring the implication that it also meant that I must be involved in my own transformation. So finally the lie has been exposed and I am called to account for my duplicity. I am, I must admit, now deeply involved in a transformative passage. And the truth is, I have no clue what I am doing! I guess no one in the throes of transformation does, but that wasn't obvious to me before.

My brother - an incredibly gifted amateur photographer - caught the chrysalis formation process of a monarch caterpillar on film earlier this summer. But what he showed was, as he said, nothing like was described in high school biology class. It was in actuality an incredibly violent and seemingly difficult process (thought neither of us asked the butterfly). As the caterpillar shed its last skin and started forming the cocoon, it convulsed and shook as if in severe pain.

Yeah, that would be what transformation is.  Not the cute caterpillar spinning an outer shell to hide and quietly morph into the beautiful monarch, but an earth-shattering, paradigm-shifting revolution that rips one inside out and causes one to convulse and writhe in sheer pain - if not fear - from what is coming and yet unknown. A full change in form - trans (from one to another) formation (creation).

Okay, I get it - conceptually - now can someone stop the merry-go-round, 'cause I want to get off! The only problem with transformation is it's a one-way ticket and the ride does not stop until it is done. I somehow think women learn this lesson in childbirth - that there are certain transformative processes in which we humans are not in control. But we masculine types never get that lesson. And just personally speaking, it sucks, thank you very much!

So the next few entries most likely will be from within the chrysalis. Wish me luck.

Only Moment by Moment

I am reminded each day that I am called to take this day, this set of 24 hours, this next hour and in fact  this next breath, moment by moment. While I sit here trying to set my intention for the day, my focus must be in the moment. How am I feeling this moment? Am I feeling alive and awake or sad and despairing?

This moment is the origin of the whole day and is, truthfully what sets my sails for the day and the journey ahead. By choosing to be joyfully awake and aware in this moment I am able to chart a course of productivity and usefulness.  By choosing to succumb to the sadness (thoughts and feelings that are driven mostly by wishing that I were somewhere else or that my current circumstances were not as they are) I am rendered a victim of those thoughts - most importantly because I am not present in this moment. If and when I am not present in this moment I am not capable of operating in this moment, which thus deprive me of any opportunity of acting.

Mindfulness is an awareness practice that puts us on the path by placing our feet squarely on the beginning of the path. Our (excuse me, my) human tendency is to want to look down the path and somehow be "down there" without having had to step onto the path at the beginning - where I am NOW.

Sometime next week my nephew will climb to the top of Mt. Kathadin, completing the end to end hike of the full Appalachian Trail having. He said, when we met up with him at the VT/NH border, that when he went in to a town to resupply, he always made sure to go back to the place he stepped off the trail - even if he knew there was an access point on the other side of that town.  He wanted to be mindful of completing every step of the actual trail.

There are no short-cuts in mindfulness.

On "Losing it All"

The graduation address at ANTS this year was drawn from the book "The Things They Carried" that (among other themes) described the characters of the story by the objects they had with them in combat - from canteens to pictures and bibles. We tend so often to define ourselves and our lives through the things we have, the things we own or, perhaps more accurately the things that begin to own us. At least I do - that is until a few weeks ago when became apparent that all of those things were about to become dust, ashes, memories, and lost.

I just lost a very big gamble - a company for which we had borrowed a lot of money to launch. In failing, all of that investment was lost, flushed right down the proverbial toilet, and lost. Well not entirely lost inasmuch as I still remain accountable to repay the vast amount of money borrowed in the first place.  But what went down with that company was a set of dreams, hopes, vacations, and a whole lifestyle we had hoped on in our retirement. Gone. Poof! In a matter of just a few weeks all of that was no longer something that I had - and now is something that has me.

In my meditations I am looking for the release - looking for the sense of nothingness and freedom that having nothing and owing a lot carries with it. And I find that I am still carrying pictures of that lost dream tucked into the band of my helmet. I am still carrying stories of what I would do if... in my duffel bag. I am still carrying all those things with me into battle. I want desperately to let go and to step into the humility of this new naked life that has been thrust on me pretty much against my will. And to tell the truth, I am not there yet.

Yesterday I laid on the floor in a crucifix position, praying for God to take my ego away.  "Go ahead - rip it out of my chest," I shouted out to the air that might be listening. And the only response I heard was a whisper that seemed to say, "When you are ready, you'll let go of it. It is the only thing standing between you and me."  Damn it, God, why do you have to be so right! Why don't you just let me wrestle you like your boy Israel instead of messing with my mind? Beat me fair and square instead of making it my job to surrender!

Then again, maybe that is what this losing it all is about. Being beaten at my own game.

Trust Fall

I am currently reading The Ascent of Mount Carmel by John of the Cross; the book in which he outlines the steps and process of the dark night of the soul.  John's description of the way in which one "prepares" for this journey toward god is huge - and risky!  Think of the preparation this way: you cannot be intimate (you know sexually intimate) by yourself - it takes two to do that tango!  But what you can do it prepare yourself for intimacy.  You can adopt the "position" of intimacy - open, vulnerable, hungry and waiting.  And to increase the sensuousness of it all you could even close your eyes and let your lover "surprise" your senses.  Love is a giant game of "Trust Fall."  Close your eyes, fold your arms over your chest, tuck your chin, lean back over the cliff, and let yourself fall into the arms of your lover.

John is saying somewhat the same thing about achieving intimacy with god.  You cannot do this willfully on your own.  But you need to adopt the position of readiness. That position, he says, is that you need to starve your senses, and get to a place of total not-knowing, because any thought that you might have about god or the experience of god is in the way of actually experiencing god this time and the next time, and so on.  Any sensation you have a longing for and any "knowing of what that connection may have felt like before, if still present inside you, will be looking to stuff this next encounter into that same wonderful place.

And god refuses admission to any of those boxes.  God cannot be described, containerized or labeled by any human classification system.  So all our thoughts and feelings have to be stripped away (and they do not go quietly) so that however and whatever is next in the smorgasbord of god-encounters can manifest however and whenever it manifests.

Now here is the thing we need to get: god is already and always there/here inside and with us.  And it is really all of our thoughts, emotions, feelings and memories (including the very moment we have one) of our encounter, our touching, that awareness that get in the way of having that awareness. Close your eyes and lean back!

In Whose Eyes

I have been observing the function of focus lately in an attempt to see how focusing on certain things altered the experience of them – in particular how focusing on the divine altered the experience of life.   The great news is that doing that, like focusing on beauty or seeing love in others, has a marvelous effect.  Suddenly the entire world looks sacred and holy.

In addition it was my intent to actively choose this focus – to see if I could constantly focus on the Divine.  Now, while all of us have that part of the brain that concentrates our focus on foreground, relegating all else to background (a function of the RAS or reticular activating system), actively choosing to focus on this or that more intensely engages the RAS and its focusing function.  When suddenly, in the middle of my mental conversation, it hit me how arrogant and ego-centric it was to assume that my choosing made the sacred appear!  It was not my choosing at all but the fact that God, had already chosen me – all of us – and that was what had made it sacred in the first place. 

I cannot pretend for a moment that I am choosing God – God has already, always chosen me.  And there is nothing in my choosing that can alter that, except that I forget and turn away from time to time.  But each time I turn back, there is God waiting, accepting, and welcoming me back, just as I am.  So while I do have a choice (whether to look away or toward God’s light) it is not my choosing that makes it so.  It is that God has – long before you or I ever had this thought – chosen us, in the very act of giving us this life to live. And in God’s “eyes” we are enough; holy and sacred; all we need to be; God’s very creation in 3D.

The thought suddenly relaxed me – like my shoulders dropped about six inches from their tensed up position – as if it was all a huge effort I had to do.  It isn’t.  It is quite easy. Just shut up and accept the gift (I am not good at receiving gifts – I’m much better at giving, I think).  Oh, I am certain I will forget this lesson and turn away, but as it always has been, all I have to do is turn back and remember, effortlessly, and there it is.  I think this is what others have called surrender.

Using the Bible

For far too long, I have been reading things on line (news reports, elected officials' quotations and FaceBook opinions) that refer in one way or another to some scriptural reference. And I thing it is time I took a stand. It seems to me that this is a gross misuse of the scripture - well, perhaps better stated, it is a gross misunderstanding of the scripture. Contrary to the 623 laws found in the Old Testament, among which are the Ten Commandments, the bible is not a book of laws, nor a code of ethics to which we should refer when troubled with a question of what to do or how to handle this and that.

To me the bible is a training ground filled with thought provoking and at (many) times conflicting and puzzling predicaments in the guise of either mythical stories or recollected chronicles of something that happened often a long time before ever being written down.  Taken as a whole it is a collection of stories designed to push one's beliefs, thoughts and values by trying to understand the real meaning and intent.  Reading the bible should cause one to reflect, puzzle over and be perplexed by the content.  But as a result of that, there exist sentences here and there - and sometimes even juxtaposed right after each other - which when lifted out of the whole could be used to justify or support any side of just about any argument. And that, unfortunately is too often what too many people have tried to do.

However, it is my belief that the bible is meant to be a tool for spiritual development, designed to disturb and push at your belief structures until you can move to a deeper understanding. But it takes a great deal of personal inner work to be able to read the bible and allow it to disturb you the way it should. Oh sure, we all say we know what the beatitudes say and mean, but do you really?  They are paradoxical at best and when one considers to whom they were spoken - the poor and oppressed of the time - they must have sounded like nonsense. Much of the master's teachings were like that. But Jesus was not the only purveyor of paradox. It is all through the entire bible - it's just how good Rabbis taught.

And that is perhaps the point of this opinion: people who have not done the inner work of the faith journey, who have not confronted and done battle with their ego will always be tempted to read passages to support their ego's opinion and justify their own actions. Like Job's defensive discourses, we are seeking to vindicate ourselves and prove we are right. But, like the beautiful myth of Job concludes, it is only when we approach sacred literature from not knowing, listening to what is there in the entire story, and then letting its contradictions and nuances sink in and knock another part of our knowing loose, that we really hear and begin to understand.

Ending the Madness

"No one's religious anymore. Not anyone with any sense. Religion incites hatred, starts wars, and vilifies anyone who challenges its narrow-minded views." So starts an article in the Huffington Post UK version (by Felicity Morse). But where Ms Morse ended up with her article is not where I would go. So with thanks to her lead, let me turn a different way.

You're right, Felicity, and I hate it! I am sick of the divisiveness created by religions and religious sects. I am embarrassed when someone calls me a Christian and they mean that type of a person who thinks others are soiled, unclean or despicable because they don't say the right words.  Or when the mean some sort of narrow-minded bible-thumping "religious" fanatic that uses verses to their own defense and to the exclusion of others.

I can no longer find a religion that I can claim and yet I love God, and I do my best to follow the teachings of Jesus.  It's just that I do my best to also follow the teachings of the Buddha, Lao Tzu, Zoroaster, and just about every other wise sage that ever graced this planet. And I do not believe that I am special if I believe in the resurrection of Jeshua, the Nazarene, or that I am damned to eternity in hell if I don't.

That type of dualistic thinking is the root of the disease that we now call religions. But that was never the message - not the message of the Nazarene, not the message of the Buddha, not the message of Hillel, not the message anyone who has ever listened for God has ever heard. In fact the message of all sacred texts is one of acceptance and inclusion - not hatred and out-grouping; one of forgiveness and compassion - not revenge and hatred; one of care-taking and respect - not one of dominion and dominance. Where we went wrong and got off that path, I don't know. But I do know that our very survival depends on getting back to it.

It is time for ministers and preachers and spiritual people everywhere to speak out that we are one.  It is time that we link arms and stand squarely in the path of those who would divide and vilify others. It is time we all band together and shout "Enough! No more! No mas muerta!" It is time to work for healing and bridge-building and forgiving. My heart is breaking - we cannot continue the way we are going.

Please - if you read this, pass it on! That's how we can turn this around. It's like Marge Piercy wrote in her wonderful poem, The Low Road:

It goes on one at a time,

it starts when you care

to act, it starts when you do

it again and they said no,

it starts when you say We

and know you who you mean, and each

day you mean one more.

Says Who?

I confess to having avoided the nauseating rhetoric provided by the two exclusive political clubs that run our government and exclude all other points of view.  I am certain to be enlightened by their opinions on what "we" should believe, and of just who might be included or excluded in that "we."  My eldest offspring is an ordained minister and an articulate advocate of justice. Lately she has been receiving a lot of attention for her stand on full inclusion not simply as a right or an option but as a must and necessary element of being a church. Exclusion, she writes, begins when we even start naming those "other" groups we intend to include by their categorical names. You know the deal: "This organization does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, creed..." The very act of naming "them" sets "them" apart from "us." Inclusion has no labels.

But when we include all of us humans within the circle of human experience, something becomes apparent: none of us has the same experience. And what is particularly enlightening about that is that we can begin to learn from others who are not like us in anything other dimension than their humanity. When we focus on the differences and out-group others, this lesson is not available. But when we are all one, our sisters and brothers can teach us from their point of view. They can tell us what it has been like to be inspected and suspected for their entire lives. They can tell us how they had to deeply search their souls and come to their own truths about their sexuality, their spirituality and their burning need to be recognized for the persons that they really are.

In particular, I am taling about people who are labeled as gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, transgender and a whole host of other terms. I am talking about my very normal and dear friends, some of my neighbors, several of my clients and perhaps even family members. All of them are human and normal and living and vital and they are us. But we mus not be so hasty to "include" them as "us" lest we step over their gift as part of the human condition. That is the same kind of racism that wants to make African Americans act like "white people." Inclusion does not mean being the same. Rather it means embracing the differences within the whole of humanity. And here is where we need to shut up and listen. People whose sexuality is gay or lesbian or whatever have had to do something that every minority strand of humanity has had to do. They have had to wake up every morning and ask "if I am not what the majority says is the way to be, then what am I and who am I?"

As a white male member of the domination and dominant class of my society, I never questioned those values. I never doubted what I was. The texts were written by and for others like me. But the howling error that lives in that is that those same texts carried the implicit belief that this should be true for ALL of humanity - men and women, white and black and brown and yellow and tan skinned people - everyone must be like this. And I never had to question that. But anyone who is not part of that dominant culture has and does. These sisters and brothers have a level of introspection I have never attempted. And they lead the way to a deeper more profound understanding of self. I aspire to that level of deep self understanding. It is thoroughly unfair that these brothers and sisters have been forced to "justify" their beingness. No one should have to justify their existence. You are human - that's the ticket to get on board this train. But because society has forced it upon them, they have done what perhaps we all should be forced to do.

So here is a quick list of questions to ponder each morning as you prepare for your day: Are you certain about your sexuality? How do you know? Have you ever tried anything else? If you told your (a) boss, (b) school, (c) church how you really feel as a sexual being would you feel safe there? Would you be accepted? Have you tried finding a church that really accepts you at your deepest level of who you are? When was the first time you felt sexual desires? Was it confusing? What if you were not permitted to marry the person of your choice by you family, your state or your religion, would you move? How would you cope? If you were told that your very being was a sin, how would you justify how and who you are? Lastly, you have no authorization to ask "them" how they answered. They have done the work and they are okay with their answers. Theirs is a level of maturity that you can only hope to achieve. They are the brave leaders we need to hold up as our heroes and heroines and examples. LGBT is not the new cool or in thing to root for! But what I get from my brothers and sisters who are is  a level of awareness of justice matters most of us can only read about.  But to be certain, I am sick to death of all of the positioning around the issue of humanity and human rights.

Emotional Processing

My personal trek into the unknown is beginning to reshape my understanding of human emotions and how we precess emotional matter.  In fact that last sentence is the problem most of us (myself included) seem to have about emotions.  We think we can process or understand our emotions - that they are messengers for what we are to do.   You know; see a bear charging us, run away; see an attractive person, move toward, etc. And while that may work to some extent, what I am learning is that we have gotten it backwards.  We do not process our emotions (or at least we should not try to process them), emotions process us.

I am not talking here about the pretense of indecision reflected in a person's saying, "I don't know how I feel about suchandso," or "Let me see how I feel about it." Those "emotions" are more often than not the result of cognitive processes; of the "I think therefore I feel" type of thinking.  What I am talking about, on the other hand, is the occurrence of a deeply felt emotion that comes upon us.  Take for example the experience of love or grief or the welling up of whatever moves us to tears in the presence of the indefinable.

We need to learn how to resist the urge to analyze what those mean and begin to let them do their work on us. To say that emotions move us may be more accurate that we first think.  What happens when we allow an emotion to work its magic on us is that it begins to transform our very being from the inside out. And our "normal" reaction to that transformation is to quickly avoid it, run away from it or do something about it.  Transformation is never pleasant - it is often more like pulling yourself inside out through your belly button!  But when we allow an emotion to work us, that is exactly what is possible.

Lovers may feel the love but may too often move to capture the object of their love instead of letting it grow them in new and unthought of ways. The former is an act of narcissism (not love) where the latter is transformative. Similarly suffering causes a knee-jerk reaction of doing whatever will stifle the suffering. And yet nothing will reinvent us like suffering. This is not to be confused with victimhood. There are times when suffering must be ended for the safety of the victim.  But when our ego takes charge (a bad habit it engages in for most of our waking hours), and it is our ego need that wants to end the suffering or claim the reward at having loved so well, then we are denying our emotions the power that is uniquely theirs. Ego is the enemy of transformation.

Most of the time allowing emotions the opportunity of doing the inner work feels like sitting in a pool of muck - all damp and smelly and dirty. What's worse is that emotions do not work on us in any linear fashion (step 1, 2, 3) as our logical egos would have it.  It is sporadic, coming and going in waves of differing times and intervals.  And it is not over until it is over.  As if that is not enough bad news for your ego, get this: once you start this work, there is no way out except through it. And a nasty corollary to that is that any part that you skip will come back to kick you in the butt when you least expect it.

But there is good news. On the other end, there is a rainbow of new opportunities and insights that were never visible through your ego-controlled lenses. New worlds and new ways of being wait for those willing to let themselves be sucked through the vortex of emotion-driven transformation. Be patient with yourself and gentle with your emotions. It is hard work, but the rewards are worth it.

Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

As I sit here and contemplate what course or courses I wish to take in seminary as I return (yet again) in the fall, I am faced with a huge dilemma: to what end? I have often contended I study religion for sport! I love it and literally nothing fascinates me more than the question of what people (myself included) believe in. They are among the strongest held and most polarizing beliefs we have. And yet it feels like I need to have a reason. Actually - truth be told - I want to have a reason.

I am now 63 and officially retired from full-time consulting - my livelihood of the past three decades - and yet I am still hungry. I continually ask myself if I have done what I was sent here to do. And I do not know the answer.  I know (because I have been told) that I am among the best psychometrists in the business. I love cracking the code of a diagnostic test and seeing it come to life for my client. It is my gift and I have used it well over the years.

But men of my age are not supposed to be asking "is that all?"  We are told to be content with life and what we have accomplished by now. And I am - - sort of.  But there is this nagging voice in my head and churning in the pit of my stomach that continually point me toward spirituality and some form of ministry - not church-based ministry, but the kind of ministry that assists, guides and helps others struggling with their spirituality as I continually do.

Struggling with spirituality is not the best term but I have no other.  I do not mean by that phrase the kind of struggles that search for a belief or an understanding of god or experiences of the sacred and divine. Struggling with deep spirituality comes from a deep and profound connection with the divine that walks and talks with that power (sometimes figuratively but often literally) yet has no clue of what to do with and because of that connection.

Carolyn Myss says that I might have to be content living at the end of my little cul-de-sac in life bringing my light to that street.  She says that maybe that is all that is required of ones spiritual connection - just to be a light in the world. Period. Nothing else. No other reason. End of story. And it is my ego that wants to make something significant out of what I feel. Maybe.

But as I head back to the hill this fall, I will be looking for a way to shine in other corners, on other streets, in other ways. And I still have not a single clue. God wants us on god's terms, in god's service, not ours, not mine. So again I have to surrender will. Again I have to seek understanding. Again I have to see if there are others who feel like this - because I know there is no denomination I have yet explored that describes the truth I feel and experience.

How can I feel so connected and yet so lost?

Vive La Difference

Who are we as humans? What is it that makes us hate others who are not just like us? I remember in my undergraduate years taking a course from the famous social psychologist, Carolyn Sharif. She and her husband Musafer Sharif (forgive me if I have spelled it incorrectly) conducted this great study of teenage boys called the Robber's Cave Study that I think was the foundation for some of the scenes in The Lord of The Flies. The net of the study was that is was regular behavior to define one's own group by the "out-grouping" of another. In other words, we are who we are because we are not "them." And so social scientists since the 50's and the Robber's Cave study had a way of describing what we do to each other. Read that as in "it is normal and regular to do that." Hey that is no news. Humans have killed off the "other" for as long as we have had tribes. But does it make it right or normal? I think not and in fact I am getting sick and tired of reading justifications of outgroupings whether they are based in biblical mistranslations or out of context quotations or hocus pocus bullshit made up by some egocentric narcissist too terrified of his own shadow to step into the light on his own. Well I am tired of it. What is straight or gay or whatever anyway? Who decided that mattered in determining your humanness? When I was a junior in college (that is a loooong time ago) I had a room mate who was gay (still is). And how he explained it to me was asking me if I decided to be 6'3". I said of course not, I just grew that way. Well, he said, I never decided to be gay, I just grew that way. (Thanks Peter, I still love you for all you taught me.) States and churches are falling into sides around same-sex marriages as if it is their right to legislate how tall a person should be to be considered a person. Cut me a break. It is not our decision! It is up to each individual to act on and become all he or she is meant to be irrespective of the local norms and mores of the dominant group. Despite what the Sharifs observed, it is neither right or normal to place a moral judgment on another because he or she is not like you and your group. That kind of clique behavior is as distasteful in adulthood as it was in junior high school, only the adults in question should have outgrown it! It is time we grow up as a society and face the fact that the human experience is not a unified or singular experience. Being human has about six billion different ways of manifesting and each one is as great and beautiful as the next. Thank god you are unique, and that the person next to you is unique and that I am not you. We need to stop bonding about how we are the same and rejoice in and bond around our array of differences. The human experience is a wide rainbow of colors and the boundaries are indistinguishable yet ubiquitous. I don't want to be you and you should not want to be me. So why do people think that someone else should have the same preferences as you and I do. I really don't know when it was that I knew I liked girls, but I do remember that it was after I had my boy experiences. We boys loved each other. We were inseparable and we learned about sex from each other, told tales to each other, gaped at our dad's Playboys together, and we were tighter than anything. Then one day, I noticed that girls smelled different, sounded different and I was uncontrollably attracted. I did not choose that. I just was. My room mate did not choose to stay with his boys, he just did. There is nothing more to it than that. Two of us manifesting two of the six billion ways to be a human. Praise god for that! And for god's sake, cut the crap about making differences wrong. It is what is right about being human - we are all uniquely different. Amen, amen, let it be so.