The Unseen Order

   Life's Ultimate Mystery

Over the last few years I have been wrestling with various questions about the context
within which our lives unfold. Perhaps these thoughts will turn into a book, but until then,
they are presented here for your reflection and comment.

    Introduction (Revised - February, 2008)

1. The Golden Mean (Revised - February, 2008)

2. The Unseen Order (Revised - February, 2008)

3. The Role of Art (Revised - February, 2008)

4. The Message in Art (Revised - February, 2008)

5. If It Exists, Why Is It Unseen (Revised - February, 2008)

6. What Is Reality (Revised - February, 2008)

7. Fingers Pointing at the Moon  (Revised - February, 2008)

8. Worldviews - Path or Prison *(New - March, 2008)

9. From Whim to Culture  **(New - May, 2008)

10. The Fundamentalist Turn  **(New - May, 2008)

11. Are You Rational  **(New - May, 2008)

12. Is Reason Logical  **(New - May, 2008)

13. The Place of Intuition *(New - March, 2008)

14. Seeking the Source of Wisdom *(New - March, 2008)

15. Dealing with God

16. A Short History of Materialism

17. The Best and the Brightest

A Favorite Quote
     All human beings should try to learn before they die what they are running from, and to,  and why.   James Thurber

Short Reflections Below

Wrestling with Time

I sit on my porch looking out on a mountain, a mountain that in spring is lush, radiant—a vibrant sea of green.  Although it's very close, sometimes it drapes itself so fully in a cloak of clouds that I cannot see the faintest hint of its outline.  Yet, I believe it is still there.

What other realities are out there, hidden behind clouds in the mind, which I cannot see?

As I sit on my porch, I ask myself "what shall I do today?"  And, as I ask, I realize once again that this is not an easy question. In my younger days, I was filled with ambition—for power, for fame, for wealth—for experiences, for knowledge, for passion.  I felt a burning desire to save the world from confusion, from pain, from suffering.

I have ambition still.

But I‘ve also had enough achievements in the world to know that one more success—or a dozen more—of the same variety will not quench my thirst.  If there is a really thirst-quenching drink to be found, it must be mixed with a different set of ingredients.

I can say this with some conviction, for all my past accomplishments have not brought me peace, or happiness, or fulfillment.  Oh, there have been momentary flashes—the exhilarating flush of victory.  But such moments are amazingly short-lived.  And when they are over, there is usually a crash—followed by the growing urge for another rush, another shot of the adrenaline of challenge and success.   

And, the moments of elation following victory seem to shorten as the years beside my name begin to mount.

There is another problem. Each time I have set out to accomplish something, several failures have come along for the ride. It happens like this: I energetically (and often naively) set off in pursuit of some goal.  And I immediately experience a series of failures in my attempt to achieve a quick and easy victory—failures at least in relation to my expectations.  If, however, I persevere; if I give increasing amounts of time and energy to the task; if I learn from my mistakes; if I modify the goals as I proceed; then, often, there comes a moment of success.

But by this time—the weeks, the months, the years have gone by. Who I am now is different from who I was when I began.  Sometimes the "me" that committed to the goal has "gone fishing" when the modified goal is achieved.  Is this victory?

Perhaps if I could say: "I want this!" and it could be instantly fulfilled, I would experience the pleasure anticipated with the thought.  But if time must flow between the wish and the fulfillment, who knows what the result will be?  I might no longer want that particular fruit.  Or the "me" that is present for the eating might even be repelled by the taste.        

This is one of the most insidious problems of life—this problem of Time.  Even if I know clearly, certainly, that I want this particular thing right now, how do I know I will want the same thing if I succeed sometime in the future?  Further, because of time—because nothing seems to happen instantaneously, because of the inevitable pause between the wish and the fulfillment—any moments of my life spent getting "this" cannot be spend getting "that."  Yet how do I know, when the moment of fulfillment comes, that I wouldn't have prefered "that" to "this?"       

Well, maybe I'll get both.  If I work hard enough. 

Perhaps that's true for you.  But my images and desires do not seem to be limited to two—or three—or ten.  I seem to have an unlimited number.  All of which will take time to achieve—if they can be achieved at all.  Usually a great deal more time than I anticipate at the beginning.  And many will not provide the fulfillment I imagined when I began.  Yet, I passed up the pursuit of "that" in order to achieve "this." Oh No!

In a sense, our lives can be compared to a gambler in the casino of life.  In this casino, the "chips" are the minutes of our lives.  And the prizes are wealth, power, relationships, fame, wisdom, inner peace, love, joy.  We each have a bag of chips, but we are forbidden to look to see just how many we have left.  We walk around the casino, observing each game in progress, trying to decide where to place our bets.  Shall I enter this game?  Will it last ten minutes—or ten years?  What if I have a great hand, I'm close to a victory—but someone raises the ante, I reach in my bag, and I'm out of chips! 

Perhaps I should play several small games at once—trying to accumulate a number of small victories.  But what if something crucial happens in one game while I'm concentrating on another?  

And I seem to notice that my bag of chips gets a little lighter with each passing minute—whether I enter a game or not.   Is this the game of life?

Quote for Reflection
It takes so much to be a full human being that there are very few who have the enlightenment or the courage to pay the price.... One has to abandon altogether the search for security and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to embrace the world like a lover. One has to accept pain as a condition of existence. One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing. One needs a will stubborn in conflict, but apt always to total acceptance of every consequence of living and dying. – Morris West

What Shall I Do Today

Outside the large bay window in our dining room, a bird feeder patiently and silently calls together a community of birds to attend it—perhaps as a spring, or a grove of trees, or a rich meadow called together a community of our ancestors.  Once, as I sat writing, a brilliant, shimmering-red cardinal attacked the glass in the window.  It was pecking madly, as if engaged in the fight of its life.  Perhaps it was. 

Carl Jung described how each of us spends enormous amounts of life energy fighting with the projections of our own minds.  Like a home movie projector, our minds are constantly throwing images onto the people and situations we meet.  Our inner film superimposes on the world images of our wounds, our fears, our unmet needs.  No wonder we encounter the same problems over and over as we move through our lives.  Often what we are fighting is but the image projected by our minds.  Like the cardinal at the window—attacking its reflection, engaged in the fight of its life. 

So I sit on my porch in the mountains and ask, What shall I do today? 

There is no "necessity" for me to rise from my porch to hunt for food, to seek shelter, to protect myself or my loved ones from prey. (Except for the occasional developer—though I can’t be too critical here, since I’ve been one myself.)

Good fortune has smiled on me in many ways. I live in a time and a place where it is not necessary to fortify my home with guns or moats or barricades to protect my family. Most of the necessities of life are available just down the road—at a price within my means. There is no civil war, nor insurrection,n or faminen, or plague to disrupt my days. And there is no ambition within me with a drive so strong as to disturb an even pace of life.

Don't get me wrong.  I still have a number of strong urges.  For instance, I find in myself a significant desire for power, for wealth, for recognition, for fame.  But not too much.  Or perhaps not enough.  For although I feel such urges, they are not strong enough to propel me off the porch into the thick of the battle with the numerous gladiators already signed up for the next tournament. Having signed up many times in the past myself, today the prizes don't seem quite so alluring.  And other prizes—some that might be incompatible with these games—seem equally important.  Or more so.

"Such As?" someone defiantly asks. Well, perhaps friendship, love, wisdom, joy, inner peace, wholeness, salvation, enlightenment.  A connection to the source of things. An experience of the ground of being. 

Not easily deterred, my inquisitor persists, "Well, perhaps wealth, and power, and fame will bring you all these other goods—will bring them along in their wake." 

Perhaps. Perhaps not. This is part of the wager we are each forced to make.  But the report of many of those who seemed to embody joy, wisdom, love, and inner peace was more often than not that wealth, power, and fame were likely to be hindrances in achieving these other aims. 

"Who said that?"  Well, Jesus, and Socrates, and Moses, and Henry David Thoreau.  Gandhi, and Buddha, and Hillel, and Ramakrishna, and Rumi, and Hildegard. Lao Tzu, and Dogen, and Immanuel Kant, and Shankara, and Francis of Assisi, and Theresa of Avila, and Tolstoy—and many, many more—but you get the point.  Now, I don't necessarily have to take their word for it.  But their instruction does give me pause in rushing to a quick and easy decision about how to spend my days.  

Quote for Reflection
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point,
      there the dance is.

Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance,
     and there is only the dance.

Time past and time future
Allow but a little consciousness.
To be conscious is not to be in time….

Men's curiosity searches past and future
And clings to that dimension. But to apprehend
The point of intersection of the timeless
With time, is an occupation for the saint….     – T.S. Eliot

The Role of Philosophy

As I sit on my porch and look out at the mountains, a ruby-throated hummingbird—psychedelic neck glistening in the sun—perches on our feeder.  Those who study such things say that in the fall, hummingbirds fly to the Yucatan Peninsula, crossing the Gulf of Mexico in one non-stop flight.  I tend to believe them.  I have a great deal of respect for hummingbirds.

Further, it is written in all the best scientific books.  Yet I have never seen a hummingbird do such a thing. I guess I take it on faith.  However, as I read the history of science, I discover that there were many things accepted as fact in the past that seem fairly ridiculous today. 

So is this the first age in the eons of human history that has gotten the facts right?  Or, perhaps there are scientific facts accepted today that will seem ridiculous to those who come after us.  If history teaches that this is the most likely outcome, which facts will be the bedrock of my reality?  On which facts shall I rely, as I decide how to spend the remaining "chips," the remaining minutes of my days?

Since I've been sitting on this porch for a long time, and there's a chill in the air, perhaps I'll go inside and write my thoughts about the destination of this journey on which we are embarked—drawing a map of the terrain as I see it.  Yet realizing that this map may someday be as much out of date as old maps found in musty shops that depict America as connected to China, or as a turtle. Perhaps this doesn't matter.  Perhaps, as T.S. Eliot says, "For us there is only the trying.  The rest is not our business."

For me, to begin this map is to begin with philosophy.  One could of course start with theology, or psychology, or mythology.  Or art, or sociology, or economics.  You see,  "What will I do today" is finally a question about life.  What it is.  What it's about.  And the living of a life cannot be broken down into categories.  In the living, the categories run together and overlap endlessly as they weave the tapestry of a single life. 

For you see, this individual "me" can only experience life as an interconnected web of thoughts, of feelings, of beliefs that intertwine, intermesh, interact with each other to form one seamless bolt of cloth.  And this whole cloth of "me" is not separable into individual threads.  If the cloth were unwound into its threads, there would be no "me."  I am that intertwined, interwoven cloth.  When I try to look outside, at whatever reality really is, at whatever is "out there" separate from "me," it can only be dealt with, thought about, experienced, from this nexus of me. 

From this "magnet" that I am, all the metal filings of my reality align themselves into patterns flowing out from this point—patterns which then become "my" experience.  The assumptions of my mind form an energy field that rushes out continuously in streams to shape the patterns of my experience.   

So I will begin with philosophy.  Not the philosophy of most classrooms today, but with the living, breathing stuff written and spoken by those who grappled with these questions before me.  In fact, in some past cultures, the name given to those who wrestled with life's most important questions was—Philosopher.    Philos - Loving     Sophia – Wisdom           Philosophy – Loving Wisdom

So I will begin with Philosophy, which I define as the quest for meaning, for wisdom, for truth—the human search to answer the fundamental question: What will I do with my life, with the remaining moments of my days?

Are philosophers the only ones who deal with these questions?  Well, let’s turn this around and simply define anyone who wrestles with these questions as a philosopher—whether they call themselves by that name or not.

Quote for Reflection

No culture has yet solved the dilemma each has faced with the growth of a conscious mind: how to live a moral and compassionate existence when one is fully aware of the blood, the horror inherent in all life, when one finds darkness not only in one's own culture but within oneself. If there is a stage at which an individual life becomes truly adult, it must be when one grasps the irony in its unfolding and accepts responsibility for a life lived in the midst of such paradox. One must live in the middle of contradiction because if all contradiction were eliminated at once life would collapse. There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light. - Barry Lopez

Thoughts On Being a Philosopher

Being a philosopher is to immerse oneself in the wisdom of others—all those who have gone before to show the way. 

It is to realize that what is to be discovered is not new, but forever present, waiting to shine forth from each life that will recognize the pattern—and then undertake the difficult work of incorporating what has been glimpsed into the moment by moment living of daily life.

Being a philosopher is to focus on the whole—not just the parts. It is the attempt to live a whole, complete, integrated life—with an inner harmony twixt and between all the different facets of oneself.

It is to find the harmony within the chaos of human relationships, of the human community, to find a way to live in harmony with the earth, with nature, with others—with life itself.

Being a philosopher is to discover, in the words of T.S. Eliot (following Julian of Norwich), that “all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well, through the purification of the motive, in the ground of our beseeching.”

Which is to say that you become so clear about who you are, your deepest motives—what is truly important—that when you move, or speak, or act, all of you says and does and means the same thing—all the different currents in your are integrated, unified, and clear—so that what you believe, what you say, and what you do, are one.

Being a philosopher is to learn to surrender, so that the harmony of life can move through your very being, for somewhere inside I sense that there is a harmony with which we can learn to blend our song, a current so deep that it becomes the flow of life itself—and in which we can finally learn to live and move and have our being.

So, as during the warm-up to a concert, the many instruments of an orchestra begin to align themselves with each other—gradually blending into a unified whole—in just this way, the multitudinous currents within us begin to align themselves with each other, and then, finally, to align with the great symphony of life itself.

Quote for Reflection
I don't know Who—or what—put the question. I don't know when it was put. I don't even remember answering. But at some moment I did answer Yes to Someone—or Something—and from that hour I was certain that existence is meaningful and that, therefore, my life, in self-surrender, had a goal.   – Dag Hammarskjöld

Creating Your World – The Power of Attention

At any given moment, there are thousands, perhaps millions of things your mind could be focusing on. You could be thinking about any one of the moments of your past: good moments, bad moments, successes, failures, losses, joys, movies you have seen, songs you liked, world events that affected you, personal events that shaped and molded you, and on and on.You could be thinking about the future: planning a trip, envisioning a date, imagining a romance, worrying about money, fretting about a relationship, organizing a project, thinking about your work—and on and on.You could also be focusing in your thoughts on any one of the many people you have known in your life—and on any one of the countless moments, good or bad, you experienced with them.

Or you could be focused on a thousand sensory inputs available to you at this very moment—sights, sounds, smells, tastes, or tactile sensations of every kind. So how do you decide, amongst all these possibilities, where your attention will be at any given moment?

To a great extent, most of us, most of the time, simply feel that where our attention is just Happens To Us—it is not something over which we have control. And yet, if you think about this, isn’t it possible to choose, at least part of the time, where you will place your attention?

Just for a moment, pick an object in your environment. Do it right now, and place your full attention on that object—and keep it there for a few seconds. Try, as best you can, to let all other thoughts go, and just focus on that one thing.

If you do this exercise for just a few seconds, (and many of you have had significant experience with this already) you will see the tendency of the mind to jump here and there, from one thought to another—one thought triggering another—or a smell or a sound setting the mind off in yet another direction. So keeping your mind where you “intend” it to be can be very difficult.

And yet, where we put our minds moment to moment literally creates the world we see. For most of us, this process happens almost mechanically—we habitually follow old habits of mind that were conditioned into us when we were young. It’s almost as if the patterns of those we grew up around seeped into us little by little, by osmosis. Or we developed unconscious patterns – sometimes reacting against these early influences, against how these significant others were treating us.

So now, just for a moment, stop and think about someone you know well. Let that person fill your thoughts as fully as you can. Concentrate on them as fully and completely as possible. Having paused with that person in your thoughts for a moment, consider the fact that by picking that particular person, versus hundreds of others you might have chosen, you greatly affected the experience you had for that moment. Did you pick someone who made you feel good, or someone who made you feel bad? Do you see how in the choosing, you significantly affected your experience?

Now notice the particular aspect of that person you focused on. Is that all there is to them? What happened to the other 50,000 facts you know about that person? How did you choose what to focus on? Or did it just “happen” to you? Usually these things do seem to just happen, but it need not be so. For just a moment, think about someone you know, but consciously choose to think about them with respect and tenderness. Can you see how you have the power to make such a choice, at least sometimes, about who you will think about, and how you will think abut them?

And this is true about all areas of our lives. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegard once said something to the effect that a genius is someone who can focus on just one thing. If you wish to create something in the world, to affect the world in some way, one of the primary aspects of doing so is to be able to hold your attention intently to the task at hand, while excluding other things.        

A Zen story:

A student asked a great Zen teacher:  What is the essence of Buddhism?

The teacher replied:  Attention

The student said: But I have practiced that.  What else is there?

The teacher paused, and said:  Attention! Attention!

The student, a bit exasperated, replied: But how do I do that?

The teacher said with great emphasis:  Attention!  Attention!  Attention!

Henry David Thoreau wrote: “By a conscious effort of the mind we can stand aloof from actions and their consequences;  and all things, good or bad, go by us like a torrent. I may be either the driftwood in the stream, or Indra in the sky looking down on it.  I may be greatly affected by a theatrical exhibition; on the other hand, I may not be affected by an actual event, which appears to concern me much more.”

Where we place out attention does seem in some way to literally create the world which we experience. Although this placing of attention often happens to us mechanically, unconsciously, if we can begin to grasp its importance, we can begin to more consciously participate in this process, and thus participate much more actively in the creation of our world. As Thoreau also said: “The universe constantly and obediently answers to our conceptions.  Let us spend our lives in conceiving our universe, then.”

Not an easy process, this. It takes a great deal of practice to be able to begin to place your mind where you choose, rather than being led willy-nilly by its habits and whims. And yet, is there anything you could do that would have a greater impact on your experience of life?

Quote for Reflection
I have always thought that feeling empty and losing touch with the meaning of life are in essence only a challenge to seek new things to fill one's life, a new meaning for one's existence.  Isn't it the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties? Perhaps hopelessness is the very soil that nourishes human hope; perhaps one could never find sense in life - without first experiencing its absurdity. – Vaclav Havel

Being vs. Doing

An old friend, Jim Haslam, who has had a very busy and active life, wrote, “I have been doing all my life. How will I change from doing into being, and how will I know when I have done it?”

Being versus Doing – an old debate, that. Do I have anything to offer the debate? A few thoughts:

Often the proponents of each side of this debate seem to be saying that their side is right, and, by inference at least, that the other side is somehow “wrong.”  The folks who argue for “doing” explain that life is about making the most of life, using one’s talents, contributing to the human drama, serving the good of others—of the planet, of life. Their criticism of the “being” state suggests that it is wasting one’s life, that anyone spending their time this way is just “gazing at their navel,” or that they are simply creating an excuse to shirk their duties and responsibilities.

This is a way of thought that comes down to us from ancient times. The pre-Socratic Greeks seemed to view life on earth as our one chance at fame, fortune, accomplishment, fulfillment—and the influence of this current is still powerful in the western world today. Various thinkers have carried this theme through the centuries, including Nietzsche, who brought it forward with a vengeance in the late 1800s, greatly influencing the modern era.

The Judaic tradition also carries a strong current supporting the importance of action and of service in this world, and its influence is strong in the modern world. And several strains of both Catholic and Protestant thought emphasize the action aspect of human life, sometimes overlapping the debate between faith vs. works.

Those who argue for “being” seem to be saying that there is a sweet spot where, if you know who you are and what is truly important, then those things that are important will rise to the surface of your life, and you will spend your time mostly on those things—rather than wasting your time on things that are trivial and unimportant.  They content that life is about something more than busyness for busyness’s sake, and that too many people go through life acting feverishly toward goals that are meaningless, or downright harmful to themselves and others.

This point of view would hold that much of our human activity is motivated by a desire to “be somebody” and have others recognize us, rather than a desire to do what is truly right and good. And that much of the frantic pace of the modern world is motivated by fear and anxiety—people staying very busy in order to avoid their deep fears and anxieties, to distract themselves from their underlying unhappiness. This current also has deep historical roots. Consider Jesus’ sayings as recorded in Luke 12 concerning the lilies of the field, how they neither toil nor spin, and yet everything they need is provided for them. He goes on to say, “seek not ye what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink” for these are the things which the nations of the world seek. Rather, “seek ye the kingdom of God” and all the other things of life will be taken care of. (You will not necessarily get everything you thought you wanted, but you will get everything that is truly important.)

This theme is put forward by many other traditions. In the Tao Te Ching of ancient China it is said that the true Master is one who “does” nothing, and yet “nothing is left undone.” There it is asked, “Do you have the patience to wait till the mud settles and the water is clear? Can you remain unmoving till the right action arises by itself?” Over and over the Tao Te Ching counsels that if we can let go of our personal fears, anxieties, and desires, then the right action will spring forth spontaneously into life.

Buddhism often carries this theme also—of waiting, meditating, being still until clarity dawns. And of course Emerson, Thoreau and the Transcendentalists brought this point of view forcefully into modern American thought.

Considering the two sides of this argument leads me to the conclusion that there is nothing “wrong” with either being or doing—that both have their place in our lives. Much that has been accomplished and created in human history has arisen from people who were motivated to “do” for very human, ego-centered reasons. I would certainly not want to erase many of these developments of human culture and creativity.

The problem with organizing too far over on the “doing” side, however, is that one can get caught up in doing for doing’s sake, and can spend all one’s time in an endless stream of busyness without ever touching what is really important. This can lead to a frantic pace that wastes the time of our lives, and even causes us at times to do things that would be best left undone. This kind of doing can easily lead to great conflict between individuals and peoples, to the point of murder, cruelty, thievery, and war.

The problem on the “being” side is that it can become an excuse to cop out of life, to avoid living life fully—because one fears making mistakes or failing, or because one has a deep fear of not being good enough, of being criticized, or of doing the wrong thing. And there is a false “being” state which is nothing more an attempt to escape Kant’s injunction that life is about doing our duty, as we somehow deep inside know it to be.

For me, it has become very necessary to allow for periods of time where the “mud can settle,” so that the next phase of my life can unfold naturally. So in my life, there have been times of great activity and periods of relative quiet. And what I have gradually been discovering is that the “being” and “doing” states start to merge as one alternates between times of activity and times of quiet. It becomes more and more clear to me that one can be very “active” while in a “being” state. And one can be “doing” the most important work of all while in a very quiet phase of life.

To say this another way, one can be doing all kinds of things while in a “being” state. Being is not determined by how active you are, but by your motivations and your internal state. Thus arises the image of a martial arts master encountering foes while resting in an internal state of calm and inner quiet. Or a great violinist so fully becoming the music that he or she is not “doing” anything, but the music is simply arising of itself from all that led up to that moment. Or again, the image of Mother Teresa lifting the dying from the streets of Calcutta without a sense so much of “doing” something, but simply being with the Beloved in all his guises; “insofar as you have done it unto the least of these, my children, you have done it unto me.” Or Gandhi leading a revolution while maintaining his calm and equanimity—and even goodwill toward his enemies.

So to change from doing to being is to change one’s internal state from ambition and accomplishing and accumulating to selfless service and patient presence and acting from a harmony that is larger than oneself.

And how do you know when you are in this state? The words that many of the wisest teachers have used to describe it are a deep sense of serenity, of inner peace—and often a sense of clarity about oneself and one’s life. Ultimately, the most used words to describe such a state are love and compassion. If, deep in your heart, you are filled with love and compassion toward those near, those far, toward yourself, toward all beings everywhere, then you are moving into that state that so many great souls and teachers have advised us to seek—a place which we have been told, if we seek faithfully enough, we will find.

So if you feel these things inside, you are probably in a state of “being,” no matter how active or inactive you are. You might be praying and meditating many hours a day, or you might be actively engaged with life. But if so, you are “in the world,” but not “of it.” Many things might be happening around you, but “you” are not“doing” them. “You” have become merely an instrument through which the music is being played.

Quote for Reflection
Having awakened to Being, that person lives from true nature, as a self poised between past and future, in an everlasting now.
    
So what does this look like in practice? Movement as natural and flowing as the flight of a bird winging effortlessly higher. Action rapid and precise: essentials only—nothing else! Fetch water when there's a fire, and do that only. Eat when you're hungry, and do that only. Sleep when you sleep, and do that only. Write when you write, and do that only. Everything conscious, alive, and direct, with never a breath between thinking and doing. No holding back, just letting life flow from the center—as free and light as a wingbeat, as true as an arrow flying to its mark, as weightless as a dance step, as liberating as the breath of spring, yet always suffused with love.

Stillness in the very heart of tumult. Every moment as fresh as dew, and as deep as a well reflecting the stars and all eternity with them. Sharing all the world's sufferings and never questioning the role we have to play in it.

And always the strong serenity that a kind of dying has taught us, the clarity and cheerfulness that come of sensing a meaning that embraces unmeaning, and the happiness that comes of feeling safe, whatever the world may inflict on us.   – Karl Gottfried Durkheim

A New Venture

Today begins a new venture in my life, this web site, this blog. For a dozen years I have been giving workshops under the broad title “The Quest for Meaning.” In these workshops, we have used poetry, literature, fairy tales, wisdom stories, the guidance of the greatest philosophers, insights from the best psychologists, and wisdom from spiritual exemplars to help us consider how we might best live our own lives.

During these years, through stimulating and powerful interactions with the participants in the workshops, and through the study and reflection process which arose in me to prepare for them, many thoughts and feelings have emerged concerning ways to think about—and feel into—the broad and grand topic of “A Meaningful Life.”

As this process has deepened for me, finding a way to share the resulting thoughts and reflections with those who might be interested has emerged as the next step on my journey. Which brings us to this moment. Today this web site begins, and at the very beginning I want to especially thank all those who have participated in the workshops through the years. Your contributions to my life are many. I am especially grateful for the wisdom you have shared with me, for the courage you have shown in your own journeys, for the sometimes-brilliant insights, for the humor, and most of all, for your friendship.

         So to each and all, as you travel your own special pathways,

                               Fare forward, voyagers!

Some Things I Believe

There is “something more”

I believe that life is about something more than just taking care of our basic needs. Every human culture throughout human history, in every part of the earth, has come to this conclusion. Cultures have differed dramatically on what this “something more” might be—how to define it, how to think about it, how to be in the right relationship to it. But every human culture, and the vast majority of human beings who have ever lived, have come to the conclusion that there is “something more.”

Finding the Right Relationship to it is not easy

But finding the right relationship to this “something more” is not easy. There are many competing views about what it is, how one should go about the search—as well as much competition about which belief system is the “right one” versus which are simply “wrong.”

Spending time on this search takes time away from achieving and accomplishing things in the world

But there is a dilemma here, for if I spend time and energy on this search, I am taking time and energy away from achieving things in my daily life, accomplishing things in the everyday world—which my culture has said is very important. In fact, many of the messages I received while growing up were that accomplishing things in the world was what life was supposed to be about.

Yet finding this “right relationship” is crucial to inner peace, well-being, true fulfillment

I have come to believe that this search for something larger than myself to be about is an indispensable part of any life that leads to inner peace, well-being, true fulfillment. I do not know what the “right” definition of this “something more” is, but I do believe there is something crucially important to be considered here, and I believe I must devote a certain amount of my time and energy in an attempt to find the right relationship to this “transcendent” dimension.

Some people say this is the only important thing

Many people throughout history have concluded that this Transcendent Dimension is the only important thing in life, and they have given themselves over completely to the quest for God, for Enlightenment, for Transcendence, for the Divine. But the call to completely organize my life around Transcendence has not yet taken me, nor has the path that I might take for such a complete surrender appeared. Or my resistance is still so strong that I have not been able to see the path clearly.

Thus for me, a middle way seems necessary. But this middle way is very difficult, for there is a basic conflict between my many desires—to be comfortable, to pursue every whim that seems to offer pleasure, to win in everything I do, to accumulate lots of money and power and prestige, to convince others that I am right all the time, to get the world to organize the way I think it should—there is a conflict between these desires, and finding a full and right relationship with that which transcends these everyday things.

The Unconscious

Further, I have unconscious fears, anxieties, desires, ambitions, and expectations that must be dealt with—or they will undermine any real relationship I might develop with the Transcendent Dimension (a problem which, as best I can tell, I share with almost everyone).

Thus the necessity to engage in some form of deep psychological and/or spiritual work

To overcome this problem, each person on this path must engage in some form of deep psychological and/or spiritual work—in order to discover and come to terms with these unconscious currents. This definitely applies to me.

Practices, Disciplines, and Moral Values

Thus for me, various practices, disciplines, and moral values are necessary to provide guidance in this search, and help overcome the difficulties mentioned above. For me, these practices include:

1. Spending time and energy focusing on and serving other people. This is one of the best ways I know to transcend for a moment my ego’s demand that it always be the center of attention.

2. Study and reflection on the wisdom that many different people throughout human history have handed down to us about what they have come to understand and experience.

3. Spending time and energy sharing what I am learning with others.

4. Setting aside time for exploring my inner life—through meditation, prayer, spiritual travel, meditative thinking, and even meditative hiking.

5. It involves several daily intentions, including the effort to be kind and considerate to others, as well as letting go of my righteousness, fear, anger, irritations, and too quick judgments about people and situations.

6. It involves trying to let go of always wanting to be right.

7. It includes trying not to give so much weight and importance to what other people might be thinking about me.

8. It involves trying to release all these currents, gradually replacing them with an energy of love, compassion, and good-will. Can I transform myself within, gradually living into this higher possibility of myself? Can I release my pettiness and smallness, and gradually replace these self-centered currents with an out-flowing of love, peace and joy toward each person I meet?

9. This path also involves being compassionate toward myself—not being so judgmental about how poorly I sometimes feel I am doing on the journey. Can I encourage myself lovingly toward the highest possible image, yet make peace with all my imperfections along the way.

Companions and Guides

Also in this process, most of us need the help of a guide or a teacher—or a spiritual friend—in order to avoid the tricks the ego will play - to convince us to follow its many whims and urges. As someone once remarked, the ego is a great tool, but a lousy master.

Respecting the Paths of Others    

This is my path, but I believe there are many different ways a person can go about this quest. I do not have the hubris, the pride, the arrogance to believe that I know the “one right way.” And it is quite possible there are so many different paths to the Transcendent Dimension because people are very different, and that different paths are necessary for different natures— and even different stages on the journey.

I also believe that this road can be long and difficult—that there is probably no short cut, no easy path to fulfillment, meaning, and happiness. But even though it can be difficult, undertaking this search—however best one can—is the only way to lasting peace, fulfillment, and joy.

God and the Mystery

For me, whatever is truly Transcendent to us does not fit neatly into our human attempts to define it. Thus the word Mystery is valuable. Yet just because it is a mystery does not make it unreal or unattainable. If it is to be attained, however, it will be through a direct experience—an experience that can never be pinned down in words or concepts. This Mystery is somehow beyond our human constructs, and thus can never be captured by them. Yet it can be experienced, it can be lived.

Although this Mystery is ineffable, there are a few words that often seem to be associated with it, such as:

Love
Peace
Compassion
Wisdom
Truth
Freedom, and
Joy

These words give us hints about what might be possible, and I believe we humans have the capacity to live into an experience of what these words imply. And I believe that the quest to do so is an essential element in a whole and meaningful life.

I do not know how far along this path I will progress during my life, but judging progress is not my task, and probably not very helpful. When I can focus my attention on the effort, my commitment to open to the Mystery, this simple act gives direction and meaning to my life.

Quote for Reflection
If I were to take a brain scan of somebody who is looking at a piece of apple pie, I can tell you what their brain is doing when they have the experience of seeing that apple pie. But I can’t tell you whether or not that piece of apple pie exists in reality based on the scan. Likewise, if I take a brain scan of a Franciscan nun who has the experience of being in the presence of God, I can tell you what her brain is doing during the experience but I can’t tell you whether or not God was really there, whether the experience represented a true reality. Neuroscience can’t answer that epistemological question. - Andrew Newberg

Quote for Reflection
Live your questions now, and perhaps even without knowing it, you will live along some distant day into your answers . – Rainer Maria Rilke