_     Some 10 years ago I happened upon what was then a new periodical: What Is Enlightenment? (since retitled Enlightenment Next). I found the title intriguing but the content uncompelling, as it suggested that a new phase in the evolution of humankind would bring about a new form of evolutionary spirituality (as one reviewer describes the most recent publication, Evolutionary Enlightenment: A New Path to Spiritual Awakening , by the founder of that same periodical, as well). Since then I have periodically recalled that seemingly innocuous event, prompted on occasion by what seems to be an ever-increasing tendency of spiritual teachers to sell their spiritual wares in "new and improved" form.
    Of course, selling the old in "new and improved" form is a common sales practice – witness the packaging strategies of the many toothpaste and soda manufacturers in this country! Indeed, a spiritual teacher for whom I have the utmost respect is even given to this practice, selling us a "new earth," made new by a "new emerging consciousness" of humankind. Already I risk overplaying my hand at being the curmudgeonly critic, so I'll limit my examples to these. However, anyone who peruses the spirituality section of the Internet or bookstores (remember those?) is well aware of the trend of which I speak.
    In a nutshell, here's the problem I have with this tendency to sell spirituality in "new and improved" forms. It plays to an egoic expectation that what comes next is better, more advanced… closer to perfection. It sends the implicit message that spirituality as experienced and taught by history’s great spiritual teachers was incomplete and must be transcended. But the fact of the matter, I believe, is that while many things in this world do evolve into new forms (let’s leave aside the question of “improved” for now), spirituality does not change. Let's use the Buddha as our example…
    The Buddha was so named because he experienced the awakening of buddhi.  Buddhi is the higher aspect of human consciousness (as opposed to the lower aspect, namely manas, by which we think through and negotiate our daily lives) by which a direct perception of one’s true nature and reality in toto (what is called “nirvana”) is possible. Once awakened, a profound personal transformation occurs within one, which this short synopsis of a Buddha story illustrates:

    When the Buddha started to wander around India, shortly after his enlightenment, he encountered several people who recognized him to be a very extraordinary being. They asked him: "Are you a god?" "No," he replied. "Are you a reincarnation of god?" "No," he replied. "Are you a wizard, then?" "No," he replied. "Well, are you a man?" "No," he replied. "So what are you?" they asked, being very perplexed. The Buddha simply replied: "I am awake."

    It remains the task of all serious Buddhist practitioners to realize this experience themselves, thus realizing their own "Buddha nature" and the true nature of reality.
    Every tradition has a version of self-realization and direct perception of reality.  Another example would be Jesus’ realization of his own true nature (what the Christian tradition refers to as “Christ consciousness”) and his consequent perception of the sacred dimension of all existence (what the Christian tradition refers to as the “kingdom of heaven”).
    Thinking about spirituality in these terms, there is no spiritual evolution either necessary or possible, despite what today’s spiritual teachers tell us. The task remains the same as ever; to seek to awaken the higher dimension of human consciousness within us and to realize the sacred dimension of all existence. Subsequent to this experience, we will achieve personal transformation, the summum bonum of the spiritual life. Until we get this far down the path, let us not speak of “new and improved” forms of spirituality. Managing the ego is work enough as it is, eh, without feeding it this hubris…

Namaste!

Alex

_     How many times have you heard the phrase, “I am spiritual but not religious”?  Probably about as many times as you’ve heard the phrase, “If I had a dime for every time… x.”  Well, if I had a dime for every time I’ve heard the phrase, “I am spiritual but not religious”… you get the point.
    I’ve always struggled with this deprecation of religion in the name of spirituality, for a variety of reasons. For instance, I believe that many of the people who use the term "spiritual" are conflating egoic experiences into spiritual ones and in so doing fail to understand the experience to which the term "spiritual" actually points (see my previous posts). I also believe that people who claim to be spiritual but not religious fail to understand that you can't have spirituality without religion: since the beginning of religious history, "religion" has been the container for the "spiritual" and as much as this may chagrin people today, it still holds true. (This is perhaps another post for another time, but whether we speak of Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, or Hinduism… these religious traditions have developed as an attempt to preserve spiritual experiences had by the likes of figures such as Jesus, Mohammed, Siddhartha Gautama, and the ancient Hindu yogis… The world’s religious traditions are the containers for the spiritual.)
    I would hasten to add that I do understand why people claim to be spiritual but not religious. The forms that religion takes in the modern era are often troubling. One can look at the instances of pedophilia in the Catholic Church and feel compelled to reject religion on account of it. But that doesn't change the fact that if it weren't for the Catholic Church we would not have the mystical stream that flows through the likes of John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila. One can look at the current penchant of radical Islam and its war against the great Satan of the West (which includes most of my readers) and feel compelled to reject religion on account of it.  But that doesn't change the fact that the great mystical Sufi order is what it is today because of its encounter with Mohammed and the centuries long relationship that has had with Islam. Examples abound, but again, you get the point.
    “Well,” you may ask, “aren't there nevertheless enough troubling aspects about religion that it would be best to do away with it altogether while trying to maintain a sense of the spiritual?” That's a valid question and one worth exploring. But before one goes too far down that road, I want to suggest something that it might behoove us to consider first, something in defense of religion. Namely, I want to suggest that religion isn't the problem most people think it is, at least not religion per se. My belief is that the shapes religions take reflect fundamental human psychology. That being the case, religion isn't really the problem. We are! As old Pogo once said, "We have met the enemy and he is us."

_    Indeed, the troubling aspects of religion do not lie in religion but in the fundamental human psychology that expresses itself through religion (e.g., cultural taboos and personal idiosyncrasies). The same is true of politics, economics, and even popular culture. There is nothing inherently evil in politics, save the way the human psyche expresses itself through it. There is nothing inherently evil in economics, save the way the human psyche expresses itself through it. There is nothing inherently evil in popular culture, save the way the human psyche expresses itself through it.
    Even further, I suggest that we would find, if we were to jettison religion in favor of spirituality alone, that spirituality would soon become wrought with the same kind of difficulties that cause us now to cast aspersion upon religion. Put otherwise, we would come to discover an important role religion plays that goes unrecognized by most people today. Despite all its troubles, religion, which contains centuries to millennia of experience and wisdom, helps to keep in check the radical subjectivity and ludicrous claims to which spirituality, completely unbridled, leads.
    As troubling as religion may be, you can't have spirituality without religion, nor do I think we would want such a thing. Perhaps we should turn our attention from deprecating religion to addressing the deeper issue of the human psyche that expresses itself through religion… and politics… and economics… and popular culture…  Ironically, religion can be a principal means for doing just that!

Namaste,

Alex

_     Going it alone on the spiritual path rarely lends itself to long term success.  Indeed, it takes more than personal fortitude to keep on the “straight and narrow.”  It takes: an awareness of a tradition’s deeper teachings, proficiency at the spiritual methodologies a tradition has developed, a commitment to ethical standards (to avoid the psychological and emotional morass that attends ethical violations), and a community of fellow aspirants to support one on one’s journey.
    While all the aforementioned are critical to sustaining a long term spiritual life, this list is not exhaustive.  And though much could be written about each of these components, in this post I will briefly touch upon the importance of participating in a community of fellow aspirants as a support system for those times when our temptations and failings confront us.
    A common term for a community of fellow aspirants is the Sanskrit term “sangha,” a term quite familiar to Buddhist practitioners in particular (“Sangha” is one of the “three jewels” of the Buddhist tradition, reflected in the prayer: “I take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha, until I attain Enlightenment.”).  Other terms one might encounter are “ashram” (common in the Hindu tradition) or “monastery” (common in the Christian tradition).  The point is, across all religious traditions spiritual aspirants have recognized the need to gather in community to support one another on the spiritual path, because they have realized that the spiritual path is very difficult to walk alone, like walking across “a razor’s edge,” to steal a Hindu metaphor.
    One way to think about spiritual community is to apply Jesus’ parable of the sower (although this was not its original intent, it is still a very helpful metaphor in this context).

"Behold, the sower went out to sow.  As he sowed some seeds fell beside the road and the birds came and ate them up.  Others fell on rocky places, where they did not have much soil.  They immediately sprang up, because they had no depth of soil.   But when the sun rose they were scorched, and having no root they withered away.  Others fell among the thorns and the thorns came up and choked them out.  Still others fell on good soil and they yielded a crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty."

    We may think of spiritual community as the good soil in which the necessary conditions are found for the spiritual life to bear fruit.  Spiritual community provides tradition and wisdom to feed our desire for spiritual growth.  It supports us externally through mutual caretaking.   And, it prepares us internally for the personal transformation that inevitably takes place on the path.
    If your spiritual life has not born the fruit it promises, consider that it is finally time to deepen your commitment and join a spiritual community.  The aim of this post is as simple as that - to motivate you to take this next step.  Along those lines I invite you to watch closely the “Upcoming Events” page of this site, as the introduction to mysticism class, Return to the Mystic I (which is required in order to join our spiritual practice classes – Return to the Mystic III), will soon be announced.  In the meantime, I invite you to read a wonderful short story about spiritual community, entitled, "The Rabbi’s Gift."

Namaste,

Alex

_   In a previous post I said I would address why it is that so many people who commit themselves to spiritual practice abandon it in short order.  This is especially odd given that the promise of the spiritual fruits available to one in spiritual practice are so rewarding: the lessening of personal suffering, a sense of connection to something greater than oneself, and an infusion of Divine qualities such as love, patience, and compassion which, if integrated  into one’s life, brings ultimate fulfillment.  These are but a few of the fruits of spiritual practice, ready for the picking.  Why then do those who commit to spiritual practice abandon it?
    I have heard many guesses as to the cause of this, from psychological attributions that people don’t really want a spiritual life as much as they want to want one, to outright accusations that most people are simply too lazy to “stick to it.”  I believe the real reason has nothing to do with people’s personal failures as much as the fact that what is required for ongoing, disciplined spiritual practice runs very much against the grain of a certain tendency inherent within us all.
    What is that tendency?  It is the tendency to repeat patterns of behavior that bring reward while shunning patterns of behavior that do not bring reward.  (This is one of the fundamental tenants of Behaviorist psychology, for more on which see the work of the B. F. Skinner).  In fact, the more immediate the reward the more motivated one will be to repeat a behavior.  Simple reflection will bear this out for most anyone, seen in everything from human mating rituals to participation in economic systems.
    But how does this tendency cause one to abandon one’s spiritual practice, especially if the fruits of that practice are so rewarding?
    The problem lies in the time required to realize the rewards of spiritual practice.  If a behavior does not bring about reward within a reasonable time frame, motivation to the repeat that behavior quickly dissipates.  Thus we have the perfect set up for frustration in spiritual practice, as spiritual practices generally require significant amounts of time to bear fruit.  This is the primary impediment to long term commitment to spiritual practice and why people abandon their practices.

_     Fidelity to spiritual practice then requires counter-intuitive behavior on the part of the practitioner.  It requires the willingness to repeat a behavior despite the lack of immediate or short term reward.  Very few people have the personal fortitude to do this, however.  For this reason success in spiritual practice often requires something additional - just what that “something additional” is I will address in my next post.

Namaste!

Alex

_    In a comment made in response to my previous post, Ben asked, “…how will we feel when the spirit is finally revealed to us?” This is an excellent question.  So, before doing my promised post on the subject of why so many people commit themselves to  spiritual practice only to abandon it in short order, I first want to address Ben’s question.
    The answer to Ben’s question has the potential to be very long.  So, what I will do here is briefly touch upon what the experience of spirit is not, then point to some references where one can discover what it actually is.  In other words, a complete answer will require a little additional research on your part :-)

What Spirit Is Not…

    In a previous post I suggested that there is a tendency in the modern world to conflate mental, emotional, and physical experiences into an understanding of spirituality. I then went on to explain that these categories comprise what in psychological terms is referred to as the "egoic" construct. As such, they do not comprise what traditional religious systems mean by "spirit." Thus, we can say that a spiritual experience is not something that is mental, emotional, or physical.
    Yet time and again as I listen to people describe their spiritual experiences I am most often presented with fantastic accounts of mental, emotional, and/or physical experiences.  This is not to say that such experiences are without value. But it is to say that no matter how satisfying mental, emotional, or physical experiences might be, they should not be mistaken for “spirit.” In other words, Do not confuse egoic satisfaction with spiritual experience. It is this very tendency that is the “fool’s gold” of the modern spiritual landscape.

What Spirit Is…

    If you are like most people you may be feeling a bit defensive right now.  “This guy thinks he can tell everyone else what a truly spiritual experience is and what it is not!” Here is where I invoke tradition, that spiritual baby we threw out with the religious bathwater many moons ago.  If we read the accounts of the mystics across the world’s great religious traditions, particularly what they said about spiritual experience, we will notice that their accounts of spiritual experience are not accounts of mental, emotional, and/or physical experience. Rather, the mystics struggle to put into words experiences that happen at an altogether different level of consciousness - a level of consciousness that does not involve the egoic.
    To know when spirit is finally revealed to us, then, we need to return to the accounts of the mystics. We need to begin to read again the likes of the Upanishads, the Yoga Sutras, the Dhammapada, the Tao te Ching, the Desert Fathers, Hildegard of Bingen, John of the Cross, and Teresa of Avila. In other words, we need to redevelop a reference point that helps us to discern what is a genuine spiritual experience and what is not.
    Though a bit redundant, I leave you again with this simply imagery from the Upanishads, which points in the direction to which I am speaking:

    Two birds of beautiful plumage, comrades inseparable, live on the selfsame tree.  One bird eats the fruit of pleasure and pain.  The other looks on without eating. - Shvetashvatara Upanishad

Namaste,

Alex

    A beggar had been sitting by the side of the road for over 30 years. One day a stranger walked by.
    "Spare some change?" mumbled the beggar, mechanically holding out his cap.
    "I have nothing to give you," said the stranger. Then he asked, "What's that you're sitting on?"
    "Nothing," replied the beggar.  "Just an old box.  I’ve been sitting on it for as long as I can remember."
    "Ever looked inside?" asked the stranger.
    "No," said the beggar.  "What's the point? There's nothing in there."
    "Have a look inside," insisted the stranger.
    The beggar managed to pry open the lid. With astonishment, disbelief, and elation, he saw that the box was filled with gold… - Eckhart Tolle

    In my previous post I said that I would next address what tools one might use to detect "spirit." After all, if I am going to ask people to reconsider whether there might be a "ghost in the machine" (see my previous two posts), I ought to provide the means by which people can verify this for themselves - or not. In other words, if we’re going to look inside the box, we need a way to pry open the lid.
    Before doing this it is important to make one fundamental point. For this I draw on the work of a modern day Sufi teacher, Kabir Helminski. Regarding spirit, Helminski says that it…

"is such a fine and subtle energy that it can be obscured by coarser energies of our existence, the energies of thought, desire, instinct, and sensation. These are the veils over the essential Self..." ("Living Presence")

    In other words, the egoic self that we use to engage the world in our everyday lives is so course and energetic that it obscures the awareness of our true nature. If we are going to discover our true nature then, that is, if we are going to find the gold inside the box, we need a means to get beneath the egoic self.  Only in this way will we discover the fine and subtle energy that is our true nature; "spirit." It can be done. Mystics across every tradition have been doing it for thousands of years. In Kabir's words, we can find a "channel" to spirit. "This channel is created through the presence of finer energies in us, and these energies are the result of a certain work." The "certain work" of which Kabir speaks is the application of the tools that are available to us to help us detect spirit. What are these tools? These tools are certain spiritual practices that mystics have developed through millennia of effort: various forms of meditation, prayer and yoga, etc. 
    Through these practices we can find a channel to the spirit within us. In specific terms, these and other spiritual practices are designed to help one manage one's egoic structure; to bring its course energy under control and greatly reduce, if not even eliminate it. For it is by means of the reduction of the course energy of the egoic structure that the presence of spirit arises into one's awareness.
    Think of it this way. Imagine that you are in a room with a loud fan, but, as often happens, you have become acclimated to the sound of the fan and don't really notice the "white noise" it creates. That is, you don't notice it until someone turns it off. Suddenly, you realize that unbeknownst to you it had captivated your attention the entire time. We've all had this experience… But not only do you notice this, you also notice other sounds that were in the room with you, but which had been drowned out by the white noise of the fan. Once that white noise ceases, these other sounds arise into your awareness. Perhaps you notice the faint sound of children playing in the neighbor’s yard next door, or music wafting through the house from the radio you left playing softly in another room. Or, sometimes the silence that is revealed becomes quite palpable itself! The point is that there are realities at work of which we remain unaware until certain internal dynamics shift. This is the effect that the spiritual practices developed by mystics over the millennia have upon us. They allow certain realities at work within us to arise into our awareness as these practices shift our internal dynamics.
    It sounds easy, but it isn't. For the vast majority of people a long-term commitment is required before the fruits of this labor are realized. Yet, one would think that the discovery of the gold within the box would be enough to motivate one to stay on task until the treasure is discovered. The fact is, however, that most people don't stay on task. In my next post I'm going to address why so many people commit themselves to spiritual practice only to abandon it in short order.

Namaste,

Alex

    In my last post I explained how the term "spirituality" (or "spiritual," or "spirit") has come to lack an essential meaning in our culture.  In this post I will advocate that we need to return to the traditional meaning of the term.
    It's admittedly a little odd for someone as deeply enmeshed in liberal religion as I am, and who believes that it is vital to bring reason to bear on the religious life, to be invoking a return to the traditional meaning of the term "spirituality."  Most liberal religious people of my ilk threw that baby out with the mythical bathwater long ago - on the heels of the Materialist critique of religion in general and human nature in particular (see previous post).  How, then, does somebody like me come to hold such a position?
    To cut to the chase, one of the many things I've learned in my many years long spiritual practice and experience is that despite the fact that Materialism revealed much religious belief to be chaff, there still remains much wheat to be harvested in traditional religious systems. In other words, through my spiritual practice and experience I have learned that it is far from sound reasoning to reject traditional religious claims in toto.  Indeed, the liberal religious penchant to do so flies in the face of the liberal religious insistence to bring reason to bear on the religious life.  An honest, rational assessment of the situation will admit that the matter is infinitely more complicated than liberal religious people have hitherto been willing to admit.
    For now, I want to use this post to highlight one way in which this is so. Specifically, I want to suggest, on the basis of my own spiritual practice and experience, that there is something meaningful in this traditional notion of "spirituality" referenced in traditional religious systems, despite the Materialist critique.  More specifically, I want to suggest that there may be something to the traditional (religious) notion of human nature after all.  Perhaps Descartes was right.  Perhaps there is a "ghost in the machine" after all (see previous post).  Maybe we've simply been missing it because of the limitations of the tools we use in our exploration of both ourselves and the cosmos.  Metaphorically speaking, one can't measure the viscosity of water with a ruler.  Likewise, one can't detect "spirit" by means of logic and the scientific method.
    Of course this begs the question: What tools might one use to detect "spirit"?  I will address that question in my next post.  For now, I ask you merely to consider the possibility that one can know that traditional religious claims about the notion of "spirituality" are true.  If so, the implications of this fact upon our modern notions of "spirituality" are very significant.  For instance, as I mentioned in my last post, on the wide continuum of meaning of the term "spirituality" today, all understandings of the term conflate mental, emotional, and physical experiences into an understanding of "spirituality."  These three categories (mental, emotional, and physical), however, comprise what in psychological terms is referred to as the "egoic" construct.  They are the dimensions of the self we name when attempting to articulate what we are as human beings.  Simplistically, "I am the summation of my thoughts, feelings, and sensations."  But none of these dimensions of the self, taken either individually or collectively, comprise what traditional religious systems mean by "spirit"; that dimension of the self to which all traditional religious systems refer when speaking of our human nature.
    Traditional religious systems tell us that there is another dimension to our humanness, which flies in the face of the variety of egoic understandings of "spirituality" at play in the religious world today.  If this is the case, today's religious pursuit of spiritual understanding is far off the mark, never leaving the egoic field actually to discover the "spiritual" dimension.  Indeed, this very tendency to mistake the egoic for the spiritual has served to damage and undermine the image and authority of today's spiritual teachers, not to mention religion in general, though this is another post for another time.
    In sum, in line with the mystical teachings of traditional religious systems, I am arguing that the egoic is not the spiritual.  In my next post I will further this argument by addressing what that other dimension of the self is and how we come to know it.
           
    Two birds of beautiful plumage, comrades inseparable, live on the selfsame tree.  One bird eats the fruit of pleasure and pain.  The other looks on without eating. - Shvetashvatara Upanishad

Namaste,

Alex

    I recently read a blog post by a Humanist who was describing a phrase I frequently hear invoked these days: "Humanist spirituality." (See Doug's post: "Spirituality and the Humanist")  A couple of weeks ago someone mentioned to me the "new spirituality" that will begin to emerge in 2012, when, according to the Mayan calendar, a new age shall dawn upon the human race.  Reflecting on these two occurrences, I was struck by the fact that two modes of thought so diametrically opposed to one another both invoke the term "spirituality" to express their belief systems.  I believe this to be symptomatic of the fact that the term "spirituality" (or "spiritual," or "spirit") has come to lack an essential meaning in our culture.  In this post I will explain how that came to be the case.  In my next post I will advocate that we need to return to the traditional meaning of the term.
    When I think about how the term "spirituality" has come to lack an essential meaning in our culture, I find myself pondering Gilbert Ryle's (1949) critique of René Descartes’ philosophy (mind-body dualism).  In short, in good Materialist fashion, Ryle was stating that consciousness must arise from matter (from the activity of the brain), which flies in the face of the more traditional (religious) notion, articulated by Descartes, that consciousness does not depend upon matter for its existence, but rather inhabits the body independently; like a "ghost in the machine," to invoke Ryle's famous critique.
    Ryle's critique is symbolic of the fact that Materialism, along with its kin, e.g.: Evolutionary Biology (Charles Darwin), Sociology (Max Weber), and Biblical Criticism (David Strauss) has come to undermine the more traditional (religious) notion of human nature.  Consequently, the term "spirituality," though retained in our common vernacular, has not only lost its original meaning but further morphed into a variety of different meanings.
    For instance, in Doug's post he defines "spirituality" as "an awareness of the gap between what you can experience and what you can describe,"  whereas in New Age parlance "spirituality" refers to almost any notion of transcendent principles, entities, or ideas, e.g.: "The Secret," "spirit guides," and "auras."  Critiquing these two notions of "spirituality," it seems that in the first instance the term is reducible merely to an individual’s failure of the English language - the awareness that one is unable to express an experience in words.  In the second instance the term is inflated to such an extent that anyone and everyone's ideas about the "spiritual" realm are inherently valid - after all, the (weak) argument goes, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." - William Shakespeare's Hamlet
    Of course, Humanism and New Age thinking represent only two examples of the ways in which the term "spirituality" has morphed into a variety of different meanings today. Though they happen to represent the two ends of the meaning continuum for this term, many other meanings of the term are in use as well.  While I don't have time to elaborate on those here, suffice it to say that they all tend to conflate certain mental, emotional, and physical experiences into an understanding of "spirituality."  Exactly why this is problematic should become clear by the end of my third post.  In the meantime, I invite you to ponder the words of Thomas Henry Huxley:

            How it is that anything so remarkable as a state of consciousness comes about as a result of irritating nervous tissue is just as unaccountable as the appearance of Djin when Aladdin rubbed his lamp.

Namaste,

Alex