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.

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.

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.

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!

Substitutionary Atonement!

In seminary we learn a whole lot of fun terminology that only theologians use! One of my personal favorites is “substitutionary atonement.” It basically boils down to the concept that because Jesus died for our sins we have been saved that horrible punishment – that we are rescued. But on this resurrection day, I would like to push back on that concept a bit.

It is not so much that I am contending that Jesus did not die for us, but rather the belief that it saved us from death or was the source of our forgiveness. Now before you brand me a heretic, let me explain. We are already and have always been forgiven.  God – who is love – has caused that from the beginning.  It was one of Jesus’ main messages; he was continually saying that we are forgiven. In healing an illness or human error, no matter how egregious, his proclamation was, “you are forgiven; go and sin no more.” That is the given condition with God – you are forgiven; you are loved and accepted, just the way you are.  It did not take the crucifixion to get that grace. Furthermore, since we have come from God and will return to God in our passing, we have that as a given from the very beginning of time – we are already, always God’s creation and inextricably bound up in the Divine from the beginning until the end of all time. We may not know what it looks like, but it is a given. It didn’t take the crucifixion to gain that.

So I don’t celebrate Jesus life and death because of substitutionary atonement.  In fact, I don’t really call it a celebration, personally, because it scares me to no end.  You see, the other message Jesus was always preaching (along with love and forgiveness) was that we were to “follow” him. What? To the cross?

Yes. All the way there and beyond. The crucifixion of Jesus is a total game-changer. In all my studies (I am a life-long student still in college in my 60’s) I have found that there are only two things that have to power to transform human beings: unconditional love and extreme suffering.  Loving unconditionally (that is, because you choose to love not because of the other person’s “worthiness” of love) we are turned inside-out. It is perhaps the hardest thing in life to do – to BE love.  And that other thing – the suffering thing – well we all know that it changes everything; if and when we survive it!  And in one fell swoop, Jesus, this man who said “follow me,” did both of those things: He loved (not just us, or his friends and family, but even those who were in the process of killing him) completely and unconditionally, so much so that he was willing to suffer the ultimate suffering to make that point. 

But he did not do that so that we did not have to.  He did it as he did everything, so that we would know the path to transformation.  And this new way of being – on the other side of the death of substitutionary atonement – is what we might call true Christianity; loving in a way that heals the hurts, in a way that bridges the gaps, and in a way that pulls everyone into the fold, irrespective of their human condition, skin color, religion, sexuality or politic.  It is why I cry every Good Friday – not because Jesus died, but because I am called to go down that same path, and there is no escape clause!

The Dark Night of the Soul

The time for writing my Master's thesis at my seminary is rapidly approaching and the topic I have chosen is the transformative effects of the dark night of the soul. Now there are two problems associated with this:  One is that unless someone has been up against that wall or had their psyche squished through that pinhole, it is an academic discussion that makes little sense on anything other than a hypothetical level. The second is that many of the processes within that transformation are nonlinear and happen to you as opposed to something you do or even participate in.

Dark nights, generically speaking, are those times when the current level of understanding and experience one has no longer work and must die off in order to make way for a new and deeper connectivity.  Most people speak of the dark night as the place where prayer and connection dry up - they lose that feeling that somehow they are connected to god.  But that is just the signpost along the road! It's kind of like that signpost in the Wizard of Oz that says "certain death ahead" and "I wouldn't go further." And then you step forward.

The transformative effects of these dark nights are hard to describe, though I have attempted to find a language for them.  I keep running into the limits of consensual definitions. As I continue to scan through the literature both in print and on line, I find two camps of dark night literature that I recently tried describing to my son as those that get it and those that don't.

It is really amazing to read the words of those who have been through this continual and de-layering process.  They almost look forward to the next wave of nausea - knowing that it is certainly coming. They breathe differently and there is an acceptance in their speaking that is open and relaxed and all-encompassing.  Finding an academic way to present this "process" and producing attributions and descriptions of that difference will be challenging at the very least. But the thing I worry most about is writing in a way that even slightly suggests a smugness of knowing.  If anything, the dark nights have taught me that I do not know a thing.

Mystical Moments

When we talk about true mystical experience, it seems as though the general thought is that anyone who has a genuine connection with the divine floats about in some kind of mystical state 24/7. However none of the mystics ever seem to report it that way. What is more the case is that they (and we) have scattered mystical moments; small glimpses of what that connection looks and feels like. It is here one moment and slips away as soon as we try to latch on to it and hold it as our own.

Actually the term mysticism and mystical were not even part of our language until the 15th century, so the early "mystics" did not even refer to themselves or their experiences as mystical. They were simply trying to be present in the moment.  But as the church tried more and more to make god and spirituality more other-worldly, they pushed the experience of the divine into the realm of the non-human - and we have been trying to get it back ever since.

Truth is: mystical moments happen all the time but because we tend to be looking elsewhere for the big kahuna "aha" experience, we don't recognize them. You know what they are: a baby's smile, catching another person eye-to-eye, sunsets and sunrises, a rose blooming or a crocus poking its way through the last snow, and so many more. In fact every instant there is another moment that is mystical and transcendant. and when you start to see them, life itself becomes more beautiful and precious.

The trick in the whole mystical experience is to be awake and aware enough to notice what is happening in the now. And each time we forget that life is filled with these mystical moments, we slide back into our routines of worrying about the future or wishing away the past. Dan Millman wrote a book once called No Ordinary Moments which really captures this understanding.  But we don't need near death experiences to wake us up - we need only to wake up. Then you'll see why the so called "mystics" lived quite ordinary lives - but were filled by the abundance of mystical moments they allowed themselves to experience in every moment. So coming back to the beginning of this thought stream, if we are actually capable of being present I suppose we could enjoy a mystical life.  The problem, as Ram Dass said, is to Be Here Now!

Spiritual Practices

Today I had a great conversation with a spiritual companion for my class on spiritual practices.  Our basic question was what constitutes a spiritual practice? We each use a different one; she using labyrinth walking and I practice lectio divina. We were noticing that when not followed with regularity neither held nearly the power as when engaged in on a regular (daily) basis. It's like conditioning, I said, if I don't exercise on a daily basis, the fitness factor is reduced and the pain quotient is immensely higher.

So the question to ponder is, can any discipline be a spiritual practice? We considered the following: herbalism, wildcrafting herbs, sweat lodge (building and using), and then drifted into hunting - like deer hunting, tending animals, talking to wild animals, well a lot of different ideas.  And the bottom line was it was more the way in which one engages in the discipline more than the actual discipline.

So what actually makes for a spiritual practice we concluded was:
1. It must be done with consistency and regularity
2.  It must be entered into prayerfully, meaning taking the time to center your mind and being and becoming open to the lesson or awareness to be presented.
3.  It must be an activity that requires or calls up mindfulness (weight lifting or walking or doing the dishes can all be done with a high degree of mindfulness whereas sleeping can't).
4.  The activity and the associated mindfulness must be reflected on to look for the lesson of the day/moment.
5.  One must then capture, write about or reflect on that lesson.
6.  Finally, the lesson needs to be brought into the world whether by living that lesson or by engaging with another person on the lesson and its meaning.

I recently watched the new Jackie Chan version of The Karate Kid where Jackie tells a young Jadaen Smith that "Kung fu is in everything." Well in much the same way, spiritual practice is in everything. Try it out with anything you do and let me know if it works.

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.

Theist or Atheist

One of my very best friends is an atheist. He is a doctor and a scientist and prides himself in his use of logic when dealing with questions of life and meaning. Last week when our families got together for dinner we got into a discussion of beliefs – one might be tempted to call it a theological discussion. It started with a compliment on something I had written in this blog – it had made him think. And so the conversation was on.
Most of my friend’s questions about religion are wrapped up in an understanding of religion that smacks of pre-Vatican II Catholicism mixed with fundamentalist Sunday school platitudes – and, no, I do not believe in all of that. But if I don’t believe in a robed grandfatherly Michelangelo god, he asked, then who or what is god? Well, I start talking about Tillich’s concept of the ground of being and the in-dwelling force of life which is what I call god. But I cannot point to it I say. So I try to make an analogy: I ask, “Where is the life in one of your patients? Can you point to a place in the body?” How is it that at one moment the patient is alive and the next moment, still and lifeless? What happened? Was it the stress of the operation? Had he touched some life line that flipped the switch? No. Of course not. There is no place that holds life more than the other (though I suppose you could argue for the heart or the brain – but he got my point).
And that is when he pops the real question; “Are you afraid of dying? Because I am terrified of the nothingness.” Behind the question was the whole eschatological orchestration of heaven and hell and afterlife and redemption, and my friend just could not get his logic to go there. I told him that I really did not know if there was anything after death. Perhaps it just ends there for our bodies. But this life force that beats within our hearts, I believed, did continue. No, I did not believe in the resurrection of our bodily physical form – because then I would have to ask which form – my 21 year old or my 36 year old or this failing 62 year old body. My ego might want the youthful one but, I told him that it was my belief that most of the afterlife stories were the fantasies of too many men’s egos desire for special treatment. And I don’t believe in that kind of god – a god that grants favors.
I told him I felt that god was the source of life and that that force ran through all things – but that is was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You cannot point to god any more than he could point to life. And when our physical bodies die, that life force simply rejoins with the mass of universal energy that is god. He told me I sounded like an atheist (in terms of the actual definition of the word) and I told him he sounded like a believer who was missing words to describe his fears and concerns. I don’t really know, but I do know that we aren’t that far apart, that such discussions don’t scare me, and that each time we have these talks, we both feel closer as friends.

Divine Intervention

In one week my son will become a bar mitzvah – quite an important and unique occurrance in an interfaith marriage and I was not quite sure how I was to prepare myself to be fully present at this special event. But for the past three days I have been providing testing and career counseling to a small segment of the third generation members of a very large orthodox Jewish family business. I met with young adults with names like Shmuel, and Sorah, Reuven and Rivka; Chaim and Chana; young people who were on their way to a year in Israel or having recently completed their first, second or even fourth year studying and learning there. To a person they were bright and clear-eyed and filled with a profound spirituality. It was truly impressive – and I was deeply moved by not only the spirituality of their religious life, but by the open and effusive love they afforded each other.

We spoke openly about having been called to religious life by G-d (in respect to their tradition of not naming the Almighty) and how to integrate that into their desire to serve through a career – whether in the family business or elsewhere. While the success of the family business made nearly anything a possibility (including choosing a life dedicated to the study of Torah), all of them voiced a strong sense of responsibility to be a contribution to their family, to the family businesses, and to society.


What once appeared to me as perhaps odd or on the fringes of life, transformed before me into a rich and wonderful world. My attitudes toward the customs of orthodoxy shifted from thinking of them as almost neurotic to a kind of respect and wonder. There are deep roots to each of the actions and, like all ritual practices, each added to the richness of the individual’s experience as he prayed or studied. Because I got a chance to become intimate with these young people (psychological testing is like looking into the core of a person’s being and is about as intimate as it gets), I became immersed in their world for the time I was there. And, as is my habit, I fell in love with a whole new segment of humanity.

Yea, love. Love has this accepting, unquestioning, and unconditional quality to it that changes the lover probably more than the person who is loved. And that is really how it feels. I came here to offer my skills and services, but I was the one who was changed, opened up and moved. Oh perhaps I did my job well and helped them out on their path, but in the process, I was the one who really moved. Isn’t that always the way the Divine works?

Safely Behind Bars

I had a dream last night that resulted in seeing an analogy I was becoming aware of. I guess it all started because I had watched a trailer for a Disney film on African Cats – I have always loved and been fascinated by the big cats. I love their power and speed and what looks like the ruthlessness of their rule on the savannah. But that wasn’t really the point of my dream.

You see I do a lot of psychological testing of corporate leaders and executives and I tend to notice certain things about the aggregate scores over time. Leadership is missing a certain vitality. Though certainly on a one-at-a-time level some leaders have a little of one part and others have a little of another, but as a whole, there are some core essentials missing from our leadership. Worse yet, most tests aren’t even set up to measure them. But I am coming to believe that they are essentials.


I am talking about passion, love and faith – words that are not even spoken much in corporate realms. The closest we tend to come to that is looking at committed action (perhaps a version of passion). These are the big cats of human experience! We are attracted to them and will stare endlessly at movies about them in cinematic portrayal, somewhat akin to spending hours ooh-ing and aw-ing at a National Geographic special on the big cats of the savannah.

But we don’t dare get too close to these wild things. They are dangerous and unpredictable. Take passion, for example. Passion has gotten a bad rap of late; perhaps attributable to the many CSI/police dramas on TV that portray passion as the source of murder – crimes of passion, they are called. The motive: passion run amok. But passion is actually defined as a state of heightened emotionality driven by some external force – almost alien to our nature or common behavior. Passion overpowers us and takes control, we think. But can this wild beast be brought inside? Can we truly “live with passion,” as Tony Robbins so often exhorts us to do? How many of those who I test and coach would I claim have some degree of passion running through their leadership? I’ll tell you: very, very few. Passion scares employees – passion scares most of us. Nice to watch, but that cat could rip you apart!

Then there is love. What a magnificent word; the source of so many songs; the foundation of philosophical stands; the mandate of every great teacher or sage. All you need is love. Yet it is curiously missing from our management and nowhere to be seen in testing. “Does this manager exhibit signs of love; does he or she truly love employees?” Can you imagine the reaction to execs coming across that item on an evaluation? No, love, too has gotten a bad name. It is too strong a word to be allowed into the realms of corporate leadership.

Ken Blanchard recently wrote a book with Southwest Airlines’ Colleen Barrett called Lead with LUV (using Southwest’s ticker symbol LUV instead of the word love it stands for). Southwest Airlines is one of the few companies we can all point to that actually talks about love as a leadership principle. And while there are probably many more smaller and far less known companies who actually dare to use that word, the scales are balanced pretty heavily in the other direction. What is so fearful about using love as our foundation of leadership? I’ll tell you: love is vulnerable and brings out the vulnerability in the other. In today’s litigious society, that threat could place someone at risk – why that could be construed as a hostile work environment! Really! Hostile? People fear love! That’s why it is the second of the big cats..

But the stealthy killer of the pack is faith. Faith, unfortunately at a conceptual level, has been stolen and distorted by fear mongers and evangelical ne’er-do-well’s to mean buying into some pre-packaged pseudo-religious dogma that has no basis in truth or spirit. So right out of the starting blocks this killer is marked. But even without that, faith stands in defiance of rationality. Faith is holding onto some truth when there is absolutely no evidence for it. On the positive side, it is the essence of The Secret, but against that is any business or scientific “fact-based” logic. You can’t build a business on faith – no bank would fund that proposal!

Yet people of faith (real faith) can and have moved mountains. They seem to have uncanny luck and “get all the breaks.” They have “the eye of the tiger.” In actuality perhaps they just see what their more logic-bound sisters and brothers can’t see, but their success and their faith scares us. We fear that we have to buy into some Jesus stuff or God language, and then what would people think. Yet despite that, there are many examples of faith-based companies that, strangely or not, are still quite successful.

Yea, those are the wild cats – the big guys we love to look at on NatGeo, but would not necessarily want in our house as pets. So what do we do with them? Well, just like the real African cats, we put them safely behind bars. And that’s what I saw in my dream: passion, love and faith safely locked away for visitors to come and visit on Sunday or holidays. Good Pastors and Rabbis get to use these words and play them out as harmless abstracts for us to consider. Harmless – and behind bars.

Passion: the King of the beasts – a thousand pounds of pure power! Yeah, harmless!
Love: that can overtake you with the speed of the cheetah, and you don’t have a place to hide! Not exactly what I’d call safe and harmless!
And Faith: with all of the stealth of a leopard, just waiting on the branch overhead to spring on you! I don’t think so!

So we cage them and keep them safe and out of harm’s way. And they don’t appear on any test or in any boardroom, and certainly not walking around among us – they are just too dangerous! Indeed!

Whose Prayer?

Here’s another one of those thoughts that I have that may not be terribly popular. It has to do with how we pray and with the essence of prayer. And sorry - this is a bit longer than usual.

The great teacher Jeshua of Nazareth almost never answered a question directly (Another sorry, about the Josh thing. Folks tend to get flaky about his popular name if you do anything less than take him literally. So, because I am going to say something quite possibly viewed as blasphemy, I won’t use it). In fact, I read somewhere that of the nearly 200 questions put to him, he directly answered only three! Furthermore, when teaching a lesson, he invariably taught – as in he never varied from this pattern – through paradox, metaphors and parables; stories that were intentionally puzzling to the listener. Yet against this backdrop, nearly every person I know views the “Lord’s Prayer” as a discrete formula to be taken literally at face value, or at least to be memorized precisely.

Why? Why would his pattern be different for this one lesson? Remember, this is the same man who actually ridiculed formal prayer as either empty or something tantamount to show-boating. Always the consummate Rabbi, what if Joshua was staying true to form? If we suspend our literalist thinking for a moment and examine this instruction – his answer to the request, “Master, teach us to pray,” – through the lens of the other 99% of his teaching style, we just might see something else. Let’s start from the top.

“Our Father in heaven.” As he continually taught, the kingdom of god is now, here, and most importantly within you and me. Why then a reference to a heaven (elsewhere)? Might this instead be a reference to the kingdom among us and within us and not to a divided world of heaven and earth or heaven and hell? Jeshua was fervently interested in having his followers see the kingdom in the here and now. Furthermore, I am told (though I have never read the original text) that his word used for father was the child-familiar equivalent of “daddy” again suggesting that such a “heaven,” if not inside us already, may be closer and more accessible than the priests wanted us to believe. Then, almost as a wake up call he adds, “Thy kingdom come.” Might this perhaps be a declarative or even stated as a done deal? But wait, there’s more.

“Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” follows in the same vein. This is spoken into a time, not too unlike our own time, when whatever might be “god’s will” is clearly NOT being done. The truth is that human willfulness was the rule of the day (and still is). Thus this phrase and its later partner, “forgive our sins as we forgive others,” seem most surely to be a Jeshuan trap. It is more like a double trap, actually. First of all, attaching our forgiveness to our own praxis of forgiving is quite simply ludicrous. Our egos have very little ability or capacity for true forgiveness – they are too concerned with being right and better-than. But secondly, and more importantly, following a literal path we are trapped into hoping that god’s forgiveness could or should be earned by anything we do. The teacher never said either of those – in fact he always said exactly the opposite, in nearly every story, parable or teaching. You are already forgiven; you can't do anything to improve your chances; the kingdom is with(in) you.

So what could possibly be going on with this “how to” manual for prayer? There are two killer requests that need to be addressed before we answer that. “Give us our daily bread” and “Don’t put us to the test.” One of the greatest failed test stories in the bible is the manna in the desert. Our daily bread most likely refers to the daily allotment while in the desert during their flight from Egypt. The tribes were instructed to trust god and to take only enough for one day. Any more than “enough” would rot and turn poisonous, which of course, owing to our human scarcity model, was exactly what happened. Test failed!

Dare we even pray not to be put to the test – the test of our trust in god? C’mon, our very lives are an antithesis of that 24/7! How often do we free fall into our trust in the divine? I don’t know about you but I regularly trust and rely on me (and my effort, intelligence and perseverance) more than I remember to trust and rely on god.

But knowing this, our great teacher must have been lining up a litany of human errors to show us how praying should not be concerned with our human worries. What’s more, our prayer should not – cannot – be about our trying to get it right! We have not gotten it right, ever. It is almost – from this perspective – a mockery of our neediness for rules and boundaries of right and wrong (“Master, teach us the right way to pray – the only way to pray, the way that if we do it correctly, we will be assured of being better than everyone else.”) So he just stacked up a short list of our most stupid and non-spirit-filled errors, for fun! “Look guys, don’t even go there, no one can teach you how to pray, not even my cousin John. Prayer is about getting to human nothingness in order to let in the divine. Empty yourselves and you will be closer to real praying.”

Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult to teach the simplest things. It is the conundrum faced by all the great spiritual teachers (who, by the way, all used koan, metaphor and parables to confuse and get their students out of their heads). The instruction which I can most likely envision from Jeshua – to sit down, shut up and listen –would not have made good press for whomever was writing the story. So we got this… this, “Lord’s Prayer” concoction. I am beginning to seriously doubt that it was OUR lord’s prayer – ever – it is so out of context with the rest of his teaching. Unless, of course, he was following his standard formula of confusing the logic out of us. You will have to decide that one for yourself. Meanwhile, you’ll have to excuse me – I think I need to go empty my cup once more – it is too full to receive anything else!

Another One Bites the Dust

For years I have been trying to get it right (whatever "it" is). It was a journey to perfection that I thought would refine my being. If I could only get this right or that perfect, then... Then what? I would be perfect, or right, or whole? I don't think I really thought much about the "then what" part.
But lately I have begun seeing that perfection is a false idol. It is idolatrous to pursue getting it "right" in the first place. God never tells us we have to get it right or perfect - not ever. Oh from time to time in the Bible there are human references to living the pure and chaste life. But those are man-made rules, not god-rules. God's rules are simple: "If and when you screw up, you get another chance - I am the reset button, just come to me and I will reset you."
What the quest for perfection creates, in reality, is separation. It creates a state of better than and worse than - a caste system of being and doing, if you will. Seeking perfection is seeking to rise above the masses, to get better and better and to reach a level of god-like-ness. It is trying to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Perfection.
But there is an alternative path that has been coming into view. When I let go of the drive for perfection,I begin to seek union, oneness and joining of the shredded and torn-apart life we live. Unity is embracing the "bad" with the good. It is the making whole from all of those parts I want to divorce from myself and pretend don't belong to me. Unity is god's commandment - but not just out there, in here as well. Unity demands that I embrace all of me, and do away with the distinctions of good and bad altogether.
And overarching all of this, the search for perfection is a search for certainty - the quest to know completely that this is it, the best, the fullest! In such a place there can be no doubt, and without doubt, there is no need for faith. And then where would I be. When I arrived at that thought - the thought that I would have no faith if I continued my quest for perfection, the wall came crashing down. And then the wall of divisiveness, came down, and then the insistence on good and bad, and me and other, each in turn fell. And one after another, as Freddie said, "Another one bites the dust, and another one gone, and another one down - another one bites the dust." Oh happy holy day!

Non-Dual Living

Father Richard Rohr drives a great (albeit a phenomenally universal) concept of non-dual living. The basis of non-duality (oneness, in Eastern thought) is that there is no this-and-that, no right-and-wrong, no good-and-bad. We are called to live in completeness of embracing our whole selves and our whole being. It is the step after the AA Seventh Step Prayer where one says "I am now prepared to give you all of me - good and bad." It is that "all of me" thing that throws us humans.
We think that goodness is somehow apart from badness and that we can strive for being just all good.
But that is not the message of the masters. Yin and yang are inextricable from each other. Good and bad are part of the same beingness. What that means is that in striving to walk the straight and narrow, in striving to do the bidding of god, I need to recognize my dark side. Any less, and I am deceiving myself (because certainly I am not deceiving the all-knowing eye!). Then that being the case, the question becomes how do I actually embrace my less-than-sacred self, my profane self?
And that is where we actually discover compassion. Not in the feeling sorry for the less fortunates of the world. No. Compassion is what is found when we actually look inwardly at our own wanting, and lust, and selfishness, and willfulness and, seeing them all for the beautifully human characteristics that they are, we gently reach out and embrace them - and hold them, and comfort them and tell them that they are okay and forgiven.
In truth, we cannot know compassion without knowing our own fallibility. Compassion levels the playing field. In non-dual living, we come at last to full acceptance - of others and, finally, of ourselves!

Net Intimacy

There is - I think - a deep human longing for intimacy. However, given today's fractured society where everyone bustles along with ear buds plugged in or cell phones lodged between ear and shoulder, it seems we are even less connected than ever. I noted the look on a passenger in a car the other day as her driver chatted away to someone else while toodling along the highway - it was sad! Families are scattered from Michigan to Maine and Boston to Boca and often neighbors don't even know each others' names.

So we turn to Facebook! I have noted with growing alarm the number of intimate details that have been revealed on people's FB page - arguments with lovers and spouses, pain and grief over life situations and all nature of political, moral and ethical views. Not that it is inappropriate to express one's views, au contraire! I am happy people can express views and have a language for their feelings. What concerns me is that those same people (or me too) might not have an intimate friend to sit beside, or whose shoulder they might weep upon, or with whom they secretly confide a new, budding love. Have we lost that?

There are times the all three of us will be in the home office all working away on our respective computers - and not saying a word to each other! OOOO! The family that 'nets together, gets together! When I notice it (not always because I am focused on work, or my son on his homework), I try to interrupt the separation and bring us all into conversation. But I worry about others, about the strange mixture of aloneness and the loss of boundaries that exposes one's innermost self to the passing public. I fear that my 11 year-old son might grow up thinking that he is having a relationship with someone because they txt each other and that he is expressing himself because he has an array of emoticons! And I wonder if the Amish might not be so strange afer all! Reports show that suicide rates, though quadrupling in our society are lowest and staying put among the Amish and among cultures with lower technology.

And of course, as I write this, I think I had better call a close friend and talk about it!

On Becoming an Elder

Well, it's official: I am now 60 years of age. It doesn't feel any different - really. Oh there are things like I can't life a refrigerator anymore and a solid day of construction makes me ache all over, but other than a few aches and pains, my mind still thinks I am something like 48, to pick an arbitrarily stupid figure.

But this number comes with some titles and labels, the main one of which that I would like to adopt is "elder." Now being or becoming an elder carries some trappings with it. For example, it is precisely twice the age we swore never to trust anyone older than, back in the 60's. It probably looks a tad silly for an elder to be rocking out to AC/DC, so my view of myself as a rocker may need some alterations. But most formally, an elder ought to be a mentor, not to anyone specifically, but to society and people in general.

So what is it that I have to give? On what do I offer my mentoring? All I really have to claim solely as my own are these scars - wounds from various battles - and lessons taken from really screwing up royally. But, you see, that is the wisdom of aging. We don't really learn much from our successes. We simply note it and say something like, "Cool, that worked!" But our failures - wow - we ponder them; we slice and dice and analyze them until we figure out where we went wrong and use the pain of the failure to make certain that the lesson sinks in so that we don't repeat the same mistake.

Several years ago I wrote an op-ed piece on what I called the "Shadow Resume" - the compilation, not of all our good accomplishments, but of our lessons taken from the crash-and-burn failures. That is what I have to offer today - I survived all of those tough, painful, don't-want-to-do-that again stuff. Perhaps it is all any of us really can lay claim to.