The Hard Beauty of the Path
January 13, 2014 | 16 Comments
When it comes to the spiritual path, it seems there are two schools of thought. (Well, three. The first school says there is no such thing as a spiritual path.)
The next school says that there is a particular path for you. Find it. Stay with it. Work it.
The final school says there is something of value in all paths (which lead to the same place anyway). It is good to take from each what resonates most for you and create something unique and personal.
I am firmly in the “work it” camp. I believe in ancient wisdom and depth and, truth be told, I believe in pain to a certain degree. If we don’t become uncomfortable at some point in our spiritual life, we’ve probably gone off the rails.
If we seek a new context every time our habitual patterns awkwardly come to light, they will become stronger.
When we pick and choose and then project our interpretation onto the various teachings and practices (as opposed to developing an understanding through experiencing them), our path goes in circles. There is always a new and exciting thing to learn. There is always a new practice to try. There is always an opportunity to hone in on what delights intellectually or emotionally while pointing us away from the deep. And invariably, somewhere someone is promising us bliss in 3 or 7 or 21 steps. When our ego does the picking, it always chooses to skate rather than dive.
(That said, there is a tradition of people for whom tradition is anathema and for them, a proscribed path is a distraction. Thus they must find their own way with less guidance. Such people are very rare. It must be quite lonely and quite beautiful—and quite difficult—to be one.)
I actually don’t believe that all paths are the same in that they are not the same for you. Thinking so is like saying that anyone you love would make a good spouse. If only this were so. You can love many different kinds of people (and I hope you will), but there may be only a few with whom you could actually make a life that you love.
In relationships, dating does not bring you face to face with your capacity to love, only in your capacity to fall in love. Commitment, however, does. This also applies to spirituality.
Thus, I posit. How about you? What do you believe about the spiritual path?
categorized in: dharma
16 Comments
you’re certainly right about committment and our capacity to love. i’ve fallen deep for my spiritual path and it just keep going deeper. as to what i believe about the spiritual path, i was surprised at how provocative i found the question. but i have to agree, i’m in the ‘work it’ camp. a lot of people seem to like to take the bits and pieces that they like about this religion and that practice and call it ‘spirituality’ (i used to be one of them). but this approach fails because, as you pointed out, the ego picks what feeds it, while happily skipping things that challenge it.
there are both ‘easy’ and ‘difficult’ aspects of a spiritual path, yet what those are is different for each practitioner. regardless, the ‘hard’ challenges us, really makes us look at our particular path and at ourselves without our usual rose colored glasses; the ‘easy’ can hearten us and lead us more deeply into our relationship with our spiritual practice.
I love how you approach the path, Brett.
I agree, but then find myself saying things that sound like disagreement. Let me see if I can explain. Just yesterday, I heard someone use this metaphor, which basically says what you are suggesting here: if you are trying to dig a well, and you dig up two shovel fulls of dirt, then move to a new spot and dig a few more, then move again and do the same, you are never going to hit water. I agree, and see this as how spiritual path works.
And yet, my primary practices are writing, yoga, meditation, and dog. The yoga is a practice from a Hindu lineage, and the meditation is from a Tibetan lineage (you might have heard of it?). So it seems on the surface like I might be taking something from here and another thing from over there — digging lots of shallow holes.
And yet, I’m not. I suppose the reason why not is that even though the yoga is from a Hindu lineage, and I am being trained to teach it, learning that tradition, ultimately my feet are firmly planted in what can best be described as Buddhist, even as I stand on a yoga mat.
This sounds totally right…
Commitment is key, I agree.
I had a wonderful conversation with a woman trying to decide whether or not to take her refuge vow – the main entry Buddhist vow. I asked her if she’d ever taken a vow before, and she said no. I asked her about her marriage, and she lit up. Oh! Suddenly she realized, she has been acting out a vow for years now, and knows it doesn’t have to be perfect and is a constant exploration. The commitment helped a lot – helps a lot – to keep on figuring it out. She came up with reflections beyond what I even meant when I offered a simple comparison to help her gain confidence about her choice.
Lovely.
I follow my heart, meander, choose what feels right and keep going.
I listen and I sit in meditation. I ask for support from different sources.
I drink a lot of tea at Samovar Tea in Hayes Valley.
My Mantra ” I am open to the possibilities.”
Emilie
What a wonderful mantra.
This was so timely, thank you Susan! I was struggling a lot with meditation lately, its my second month and I was just about to give up and maybe find some other practice. I almost subconsciously thought it had to feel good and right and instead I am either bored to hell and fall asleep or trying to make it right although I don’t even know what right is. So, now I see it sometimes can be tough but this is the path and I should stick to it.
It is often tricky to figure out what is going on. It is very good to have a meditation teacher or community. Do you have either?
No, I don’t think where I live I could find a teacher/community. Can it be online, maybe you can recommend something?
Hi Irina. Many dharma communities have websites. Shambhala.org opens online classes. Also, the Open Heart Project is such a community. Hope this helps!
So lovely to find your blog. “Wisdom of a Broken Heart” was my ongoing companion as I was recovering from my divorce. I’d read two pages in the bathtub and cry for an hour. It was incredible.
And yet again, I read something in your writing that makes me cry. Your parenthetical is absolutely true for me. When you said these people for whom tradition is anathema are rare and likely lonely, I felt a crack in my little bubble of life and felt seen.
As a spiritual therapist, I teach basically what you say–that there are many paths and each to her own AND that dedication to listening to one’s heart is key. And the truth is, I have become a temporarily dedicated student to a number of paths and teachers. But to stay with just one never feels like the right place for me.
Elizabeth Gilbert talks in one of her chapters of Eat Pray Love about choosing her own religion. That made total sense to me, and I never thought about it being rare, but now that I look around, I see my biggest teachers have been authors rather than gurus or priests.
And who are authors but those who feel they must create their own reality.
Sending love.
Susan – you say it very well. Commitment shows how you go further.
Thank you so much for this, Kristine.