INTRODUCTION:
FINDING YOUR WAY
“There is a moment when we realize
that something is not quite right, that we somehow have not been given the
whole story, that there is something more to this life than what people
seem to think, or what we’ve been told.
The moment that thought arises, we have done what is called
‘raising the bodhi mind,’ the aspiration for enlightenment.
The moment you do that, the moment that happens, the whole process
is complete. This is a process
beyond time and space. And it
is the birth potential for all sentient beings.”
--John Daido Loori, Sensei, The Eight Gates
of
Zen
We
drove down the dusty road until it ended, and found ourselves surrounded
by pine trees and silence. As
we stepped out of the car, the cool March air greeted us, and although I'd
never been to Zen Mountain Center before, I felt like I'd come home.
Connie and I left our gear in the car, and we trudged up the path
to find out where to put our belongings.
I could feel myself smiling, free of my usual anxiety about
encountering new places. A
comfort and certainty of purpose filled my heart, and I sensed my life had
begun to change.
After
practicing Zen Buddhism for several years, I reflected in 1997 on my
spiritual growth and realized that my life had changed profoundly; I found
that I was relating to the world with less fear, more compassion and with
the ability to understand the nature of my own suffering.
There was no doubt in my mind that this emerging transformation
could be attributed to my work with Zen, and it was the combination of the
spiritual practice and religious community that synergistically expanded
my sense of Spirit and connection to those around me.
I also knew that there was nothing "magic" about Zen
enriching my life; there had to be universal implications:
I intuitively believed that there were other religions with
spiritual leaders and practitioners who knew the profundity and richness
that could be experienced in life by merging the traditional religious
life with individual spiritual practices, and who supported others who
wanted to embark on this personal journey.
I just needed to find them.
In
the Beginning
My spiritual
journey began with my first Zen experience at
Zen
Mountain
Center
in
Idyllwild
,
CA
. I was a member of a Board of
Directors of organization development professionals, and a couple of
colleagues had suggested the board go on retreat and see what we thought
of the practice of meditation, how it might apply to our work, and whether
we might offer the retreat experience to our membership.
On the surface, I was intrigued and eager to go; it sounded like an
adventure, shades of the mystical and profound; at the same time, I felt
drawn to the retreat for other reasons:
in spite of how well life was going, I felt an emptiness
continually nagging at my consciousness.
I was married to a loving and supportive man, work was going well,
I had wonderful friends, we had a lovely home . . . and yet life was
somehow incomplete. I was so
ignorant of Zen that I didn't realize that Zen was an adjective describing
a type of Buddhism. Whether
that would have affected my decision to go on the retreat, I'll never
know.
That weekend
changed my life. Now, even
after eight years of Zen practice, I wonder at the impact it has had on my
life. After learning how to
meditate at the retreat, beginning with only five minutes of meditation at
a time, I progressed to 15 minutes after returning home, then twenty.
After a year of zazen (which is Zen meditation) and sitting 30
minutes per day, I decided to work with a Zen teacher.
Eventually I chose to work with a different teacher who had a Zen
center in
Vista
,
CA
, and she has encouraged me, consoled me, and challenged me in my efforts
to mature spiritually. Our
eclectic Zen community has also provided me with friendships, and nurtured
my personal growth.
Going
Home
When I decided to
write this book, I knew that I would need to interview people from a
variety of religious practices. Since
it was obvious to me that Zen offered this type of spiritual life, I
decided to find people to interview in the next most familiar territory
for me: Judaism.
I had been raised a Jew but with only limited exposure to
traditional Jewish practice. I
guess you could have called me a secular Jew:
I believed in God and considered myself a Jew, but was not actively
practicing. I decided to speak
to a few rabbis and get their feedback on my initial, evolving premise for
the book, which narrowly focused on defining a contemplative practice.
One of my first interviews in November of 1997 was with Rabbi
Jonathan Omer-Man of the
Metivta
Center
for Contemplative Judaism. I
didn't know when I first scheduled the interview that he was
internationally known and, in fact, had been invited by the Dalai Lama
with a contingent of rabbis to have a dialogue regarding the survival of
the Jews in the Diaspora. My
husband accompanied me to the interview with the rabbi, out of curiosity
and to take pictures.
When I met with
Rabbi Omer-Man, I told him that I was focused on trying to define
"contemplative," which I believed was the key component to my
own spiritual development; after a brief discussion and going over my list
of questions, he told me, simply, that I wasn't asking the right
questions. Not easily
deterred, I asked him what the "right questions" were.
Rabbi Omer-Man patiently stated, "You need to do more
research." We chatted for
a while longer, and I pressed him about the homework he thought I needed
to do. I told him that I felt
compelled to write this book; I
just wanted to know where to begin. He
said, "Compulsion is the most important thing because it will get you
over Rabbi Omer-Man's saying 'start all over again.’"
I laughed, agreed, and said, "I realize that I may hit lots of
roadblocks." He
responded, "And roadblocks can become springboards."
He
suggested, for starters, that I read the works of Jack Kornfield, Ken
Wilber, Rabbi David Cooper, Thich Nhat Hanh and Matthew Fox,
representatives of a wide variety of religions and worldviews.
I had already read work by Kornfield and Hanh, but decided to
re-read them, not for pleasure but as a researcher, and I decided to read
other works by them, too. Later
that day my husband and I went straight to the Bodhi Tree Bookstore and
left with an armload of books.
Meanwhile, I also
learned from the rabbi that there was a contemplative practice of Judaism
that I had never known existed. He
mentioned an upcoming Jewish Meditation Conference sponsored by Metivta
and other Jewish organizations. In
December 1997 I attended the conference.
Sitting through several panel discussions and workshops, I was
deeply moved by the richness of practice that everyone was describing, and
I realized how desperately I was missing a relationship with God.
But how could I pursue Judaism when I had become a Buddhist? From a
Buddhist perspective, there was no conflict in my also practicing Judaism;
although Zen does not speak about God, it is very inclusive of other
practices. I knew, however,
that eventually I would experience conflicts from a Jewish perspective if
I continued my Buddhist practice. I
wasn't deterred: I wanted God
in my life, and my Jewish heritage was calling me to prayer.
Several months
later, trying to be as certain as I could about my aspirations for a
Jewish spiritual practice, I decided to begin a Jewish prayer life while
maintaining my Zen practice. By that time I had done more research for the
book, and its true purpose began to emerge:
to demonstrate that for many people, a deeper spiritual life may be
discovered through a combination of communal religion and individual
spiritual practice. I began to
re-formulate my list of questions, modifying them every so often based on
the responses of the people whom I had begun to interview.
I realized it was also time to go back for a visit with Rabbi
Omer-Man-to ask him about beginning a formal prayer practice, and to ask
him about my refined purpose and questions. I had avoided going back to
him, nervously wondering if this erudite spiritual leader would validate
that I was finally on track. In
one sense, I knew I could move ahead without his "approval";
however, I also respected his intellect, spiritual integrity and candor,
and knew I would benefit from his feedback.
On a Monday
morning, I stopped in to see the rabbi.
After he greeted me, I told him about my desire to begin formal
prayer, and he recommended I purchase an Artscroll Siddur (Jewish prayer
book) and begin by simply reading through the prayers at random; he said I
might be surprised at the beauty of the prayers I would find.
After that brief discussion, I asked him if he would again look at
my list of interview questions for the book; he agreed to review them.
I felt my anxiety grow, as I watched him; he quietly took the list,
turned to face the window, and read the questions slowly.
Before he even turned back to me, he said, "These are
wonderful questions," and then quietly repeated his comment.
I breathed a sigh of relief and delight, and I knew then that I was
on a journey from which I would not, could not, turn back.
Language
and Definitions
Let's get some
definitions cleared up before we go any further.
For the purposes of this book, spirituality encompasses both
religious and spiritual practices. Religious
practices are those activities that occur in religious communities, which
follow particular dogma, doctrine, belief systems, rituals and values.
Spiritual practices are those activities which guide and assist
people in making a more intimate connection with the Divine or universal;
these practices can include, but are not limited to, prayer, meditation,
journaling, fasting, chant and dance.
Most of the people
I interviewed practiced religions that were God-centered, but not all of
them. In particular, Buddhism
does not address the existence of God, although some Buddhists believe in
God and pray. This difference
in belief could have created a conflict in the book's language,
particularly when describing the ultimate purpose of practice, which is
experiencing intimacy with God or the universal.
It could be argued by some that "God" and "the
universal" are the same; it could also be argued that they are
different. I have decided to
not debate these terms. At
times, based on the language that seems context-appropriate I will use
"God" or a substitute for God such as the Divine; at other times
I will use "the universal."
At still other times, I will use both terms, or "the Infinite
One," or “Spirit,” or “the All,” which could be argued as a
term for both. I only request
that you not let your biases or personal belief system about God or the
absence of God cloud your interest in, and understanding of, this book's
purpose: to help you explore
what it means to develop a profound spiritual life.
Purpose
Many people are
suffering, are sensing the incompleteness of their lives, because they
live a superficial existence without meaning or purpose.
They sense their estrangement from life, from the Divine, but they
have no idea what to do about it. Some
of these people may only belong to religions without individual practices,
or they may have individual meditative or contemplative practices without
belonging to religious community; some of them have no commitment to
spirituality in their lives at all.
My belief is that for many people, neither religious practices nor
spiritual practices are enough, independently, to fill the yearning for an
intimate connection with the Divine or universal.
There's no doubt in my mind that there are those people who only
practice religion or those who only have an individual spiritual practice
who have filled their "soul space"; however, most of us need the
combination of both religious and spiritual practices to experience a rich
and profound spiritual life, revealing the meaning and purpose of our
being. I therefore embarked on
the journey of finding people who supported this premise, from the
standpoint of belief, practice and experience.
The
People
To find out more
about the meaning and value of combining traditional religion with a
personal spiritual practice, I decided to interview people from a number
of religious traditions to get as broad and deep a collection of ideas as
possible. Conducting the
interviews was a delight! I
met people from the practices of Episcopalian, Judaism, Islam,
Catholicism, United Methodist, Science of Mind, non-denominational
Christians, Quakers, Presbyterian, Lutheran, Buddhist, and Hindu.
Some of these people were shy or private, and others were more open
and disclosing. Many of them
told me about their histories that often included deep physical or
emotional pain; others saw their lives as quite ordinary.
Some were religious community leaders; others were practitioners.
Some were trained spiritual directors; others were not.
What they all had in common was their passionate belief in the
importance of combining the communal religious and individual spiritual
lives. Although many said this
path was not for everyone, no one doubted that for many, the most profound
spiritual life wedded the communal with the personal.
I began locating
people to interview by asking people whom I knew for potential
interviewees; at other times I saw people featured in newspaper articles
whom I thought would be good subjects.
Those early interviewees often suggested other people to be
interviewed. Although some
people were cautious initially about who I was and how I would represent
them and their ideas, most of them, thankfully, realized that I was
sincere, open to their input, and respectful, and they were very
forthcoming. Most interviews
lasted at least one to 1.5 hours, and some of the people I interviewed
early in the process consented to follow-up interviews so that I could
explore certain questions in more depth.
I was moved to discover that although nearly everyone was committed
to a specific religious practice, there was rarely criticism of other
traditional religious practices; when someone criticized any aspect of
religion or spiritual practice, he or she did not direct comments at a
specific religion, but rather at the extreme, detrimental or limited use
of a particular practice. Those
rare people who were critical of other religions (often reflecting their
ignorance rather than educated, substantive and objective judgment) are
not included in this book.
Limitations
This book is not
meant to be a treatise on every aspect of religious and spiritual
practices. Since there are
many good books available that describe the religions referred to in this
book, I have not included extensive descriptions of religions; instead,
books on many aspects of religious and spiritual practices are listed in
the bibliography at the back of this book.
Many spiritual practices, although often originating in one
religion, have broader applications for use within other religions.
For this reason, a number of spiritual practices from many
religious traditions are described in this book.
I have also
refused to judge, criticize or recommend any religion that is included in
this book. Although I include
a number of personal stories from both a Jewish and Zen Buddhist
perspective, those stories are meant to illustrate the spiritual qualities
and difficulties of my life, rather than recommend that anyone become a
Jew or Buddhist. Each person
will find that certain religions and spiritual practices "speak to
them"; those are the paths they should explore.
I hope that my
personal stories reflect the joy and wonder I continually experience as I
pursue my spiritual journey. The
order of chapters move from the concrete and specific, to the more
profound and transformative; I believe that they are best read in order,
but also believe that each chapter can stand on its own.
Chapter One explains the nature of the current spiritual revival
that is taking place; Chapter Two describes the importance and benefits of
participating in religious community, and what is missing if you don't
have a personal practice; Chapter Three explains the reasons for pursuing
an individual spiritual practice, and what is missing if you don't
participate in religious community; Chapter Four illustrates what it means
to merge a religious and spiritual practice; Chapter Five explains the
type of commitment that a religious/spiritual practice requires; Chapter
Six defines the role of a spiritual teacher and where to find one; Chapter
Seven explains how serving others deepens one’s spiritual life; Chapter
Eight addresses the questions that a religious/spiritual practice answers;
Chapter Nine describes how a religious/spiritual practice clarifies one's
purpose and changes one's life; and Chapter Ten provides suggestions for
creating your own spiritual path. Even
if you read the chapters at random, you will likely find that reading the
book in its entirety will give you a more complete picture of what it can
mean to lead a spiritual life.
Ultimately
only you can decide whether the quality of your inner life moves you to
pursue a spiritual practice and a religious community; sometimes your pain
has to be greater than the fear or reluctance to begin the journey.
I hope that this book will provide you with the motivation and
impetus to explore your own spiritual path; the decision to discover
intimacy with God or being one with the universe is a yearning seed,
sleeping within your soul, only waiting to be awakened.