Tag: spirituality

Forests vs Trees

I like sharing the work of insightful writers here. I usually share their work because I have learned something. I have taken away from someone else’s writing something that I need to practice and focus on.

So I share the wisdom of Avery Hart today. She says “out loud” what I am frequently guilty of. I spend so much time worrying about small things, I can miss out on the big things.

My priorities can go badly out of focus. While trying to set up a workable bookkeeping system for daily expenses, I let my taxes go unfiled. I scurry around trying to find every possible deduction and then pay a penalty because my taxes are filed late.

This is a real and nagging real-world example in my life. I have always struggled with accounting and financial management. Not that I am that bad at it, per se, but I could do a better job. I am solvent and financially comfortable. I should start acting it.

My takeaway from Avery Hart’s insightful piece is that maybe I should just get the damned returns in. The weight of carrying the task of filing them corrodes my spirit. As it is such a stumbling block and bugbear in my life, that sure sounds to me as if there is something fundamental there to investigate.

Avery Hart puts it this way. She’s talking about spiritual growth. And what else is our life purpose if not that as its fundamental underpinning?

Have you ever heard the saying “missing the forest for the trees”? It may be a cliché at this point, but I feel like this is something we all do on occasion. It’s easy to get so caught up in the smaller things to the point that we completely forget to attend to the big important things. This is especially true in our spiritual and emotional life. After all, what even are the big things when it comes to spirituality and emotions? How are you supposed to make sure that you’re getting the big things right if you don’t even know what those big things are? 

I see far too many people focusing all of their time and attention on tiny details while the greater foundation of their spiritual life is crumbling, and I don’t want this to happen to you. Today we’re going to talk about why this happens, how you can recognize if it’s happening in your spiritual life, and what you can do about it. 
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Do You Get Caught Up In The Small Details?

Have you ever spent so much time trying to pick a guided meditation that you end up not having enough time left to meditate at all? Or maybe you’ve taken the time to set up the perfect altar and get every crystal and candle in exactly the right place, only to realize you have no idea what to do at this altar. Maybe it’s even something simple, like focusing too much on trying to pick out the exact right crystal to wear that day and completely missing the fact that you’re bulldozing yourself in every situation you run into. Whatever it may be, it’s all too easy to fall into this trap of focusing on the minutia to the point that we start missing how much we are letting the big stuff slip. 

There are about a million examples of how we can get our priorities mixed up in this way. 

You can see it in the yogi who meditates excessively even while their relationships are crumbling around them. 

It’s trying to learn every esoteric skill and psychic ability out there while completely ignoring your real life. 

It’s striving to create a picture-perfect image of yourself as some spiritually enlightened being while paying no mind to the way that this cuts you off from the people around you. 

Getting caught up in these less-than-important details isn’t your fault. It happens to all of us on occasion. The problem is simply that we don’t know how to recognize what is truly important and what is a distraction. There is one easy way to begin to decipher the important things from the not-so-important things. 

Spirituality, at its core, is meant to improve your life. It’s not meant to make you feel better or to distract you from your life, it’s meant to make your actual, mundane, day-to-day life better in very real, observable ways. If your spiritual practices are not supporting this basic goal, then you are focusing on the wrong things. 

What’s more important, learning astral travel or doing inner child work? Reading tarot cards or meditating? Working with crystals or communing with your ancestors? 

The answer is that it depends on your intention in pursuing each of these practices. The practices themselves are not necessarily better or worse, it’s what you intend to do with them that matters. Inner child work may seem more important than astral travel at first blush. I mean, what do you actually gain through astral travel? But astral travel can be used to do deep shadow work and at a certain point, inner child work can become a distraction from taking real action in your life. In contrast, astral travel can be used as an escape to experience a fantasy reality while inner child work can be used to heal the beliefs and patterns of behavior that are creating problems in your relationships. 

It’s not about what you do, it’s about how you do it and why you’re doing it. 

This, unfortunately, means that there is no easy answer to whether you are really focusing on the important things. I can’t tell you which of your practices are important and which are distractions. You have to evaluate for yourself what your intentions are in every practice that you do and how these practices actually benefit your life. Does your meditation practice help with your anxiety, or are you simply using it as a way to feel better about yourself as a more spiritual person? Are you using your tarot cards to evaluate your life direction and gain real insight or are you using them to avoid making decisions and shunning responsibility off onto the universe or some other nebulous power? 

This honesty is one of the greatest gifts that you can give yourself. It’s one of the few things that will accelerate your spiritual growth exponentially.
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The Egocentricity of Bad Luck

I don’t know about you, but I find it hard not to take bad luck personally.

I have this belief in karma. So when bad luck happens, I don’t just blame happenstance.

I mentally review my list of recent behaviors as if to find the source of the bad luck. As if I somehow “created” it. Sometimes I believe I do.

That actually seems a bit silly. It reads as if I believe there is some kind of “tit for tat” accounting system in the Universe that rewards people (okay, me) for my good behavior and punishes for my bad behavior.

If the Universe IS trying to punish and teach me a lesson, it is a little bit of overkill. I beat myself up thoroughly enough over real or imagined harm I have done to others.

I can be spleeny and petty, I grant you. I am trying to come to grips with that. But I also have deep spiritual faith. So I actually do believe on some level that bad actions are punished and good behavior is rewarded. Eventually. Granted, it may be on our deathbed.

I know that seems a little silly. It is hard to imagine “god” (whoever or whatever we conceive him/her to be), sitting up on a big white cloud doing accounting all day.

I mean, given the size of the world population, god’s accounting firm in charge of “good” and “bad” behavior must be vast. And I can think of no greater irony for someone who has lived a life worthy enough to land them in heaven to spend an eternity doing accounting in god’s firm. Of any kind.

So my spleeniness challenges me. It is embarrassing to disclose what a kick I get out of my revenge fantasies. “I will do this bad thing to this abuser” and “that bad thing to that other abuser.” The fantasies get so convoluted and ornate that I can be very well pleased with myself for their sheer creativity.

What I am supposed to do for spiritual and emotional growth in the face of “bad luck” – I have read – is to let go. Release the offending incident and the offenders. Karma is supposed to have its way with them. Rotten fruit eventually falls from the tree and all that.

It is laudable when business success is attributed strictly to “good luck” and “talent” and “hard work.” It rarely is the whole picture.

Ruthlessness is an essential quality when your primary goals are to beat the competition and rise to the top of however you define success. Wealth. Power. Privilege. Access. Freedom.

Most of us want to get there or to some semblance of there. Not a great many do.

Those who do are not always eager to share the secrets of their success at the outset. Well, at least not until they are well-settled and satisfied with the level of success they have personally achieved.

Or they get old and start stock-taking. It is usually only then they can turn around to face the masses and imbue them with the “wisdom” they gained to get where they got.

When the superrich encounter bad luck, I am sure they just mow their competition down. They don’t give a fiddler’s fig about the impact steamrollering the opposition will have if less than ethical strategies work in their best interest.

So when bad luck descends, where do you go with it in your mind? Do you use “stock excuses”? “If I hadn’t done this, then that wouldn’t have happened.” “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” “If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.” And so on.

The truth is we don’t always necessarily know why bad luck happens. We just know it is part of life. The losses and insults we have to process are on a very wide continuum indeed. There is a planet of difference between losing an expensive pair of glasses and losing a limb in combat.

But processing bad luck goes through some predictable stages. And ultimately, the response always comes back to what we can and cannot control about the bad luck that has befallen us.

We can go to an optician to replace a pair of glasses. We can undertake the difficult process of rehabilitation in the face of a lost limb. Though the losses vary in scope, whatever issue you are facing must ultimately be addressed in the same way.

So use whatever justification is necessary in the face of bad luck to process and make sense of it for yourself. Maybe it is your karma. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe you should have been more careful with those glasses. Maybe you should have never signed up with the military.

Every action we take has inherent risks. Heck, every day on the planet is a risk. Some people who got up this morning won’t see tomorrow.

I do find it helpful to try to put my bad luck in perspective. There is that old Chinese proverb about the farmer whose horse runs away. Everyone sees it as bad luck until the escaped horse returns with a herd of mares, thus adding to his wealth.

The caution is inherent in Rudyard Kipling’s famous poem, If: “If you can meet triumph and disaster and treat those two imposters just the same.”

Maybe my recent bad luck has nothing whatsoever to do with me or karma or the wrong place at the wrong time. But as I said initially, it is sometimes hard to recognize that in the first blush of searing disappointment or loss.

I need to keep working on keeping myself emotionally and spiritually balanced in the face of “bad luck.” Thankfully, in this instance at least, nobody died.

For that, I feel grateful and profoundly lucky. Always.

The American Buffalo

I’ve never seen a Ken Burns documentary I didn’t like. Burns’ epic two part, four hour documentary on the American Buffalo that aired last week on PBS was no exception.

I sometimes delude myself there is nothing new for me to learn. That is because I have no interest in learning astrophysics or nuclear fission. But this documentary surprised me.

It turns out there was tons I didn’t know about the history of the American Buffalo in North America. More important, I didn’t fully realize how intimately intertwined the fate of the buffalo was with the indigenous peoples who relied on them.

There used to be millions of buffalo roaming free on the open grasslands in North America back in the mid-1800s. Millions. The indigenous peoples who hunted them for food, clothing and shelter, had a deep and mystical connection with them.

Buffalo were so embedded in the life and well-being of indigenous peoples, it would have been hard for anyone to imagine they could disappear. But the American Buffalo was nearly wiped out. The tale of how the buffalo was nearly eradicated goes hand in hand with the cultural and actual genocide of many native American Indians.

Ken Burns’ documentary ostensibly starts out to teach us how the greed and violence of Europeans decimated the great North American buffalo herds. His story inevitably explores the concomitant demise of indigenous peoples who lived here first. It was shocking to see the parallels drawn so clearly.

I, like nearly every other North American kid, grew up witnessing depictions on film of the struggles between white Europeans and Native Indian tribes as a fight between good and evil. And in that order.

There was an Indian reservation quite close to a friends home in the little town I grew up in. I still remember the solemn warnings of my friends mother. “Stay away from there. The Indians are known thieves and rapists.”

Couldn’t think of a much more effective way to strike terror into the hearts and minds of two pre-pubescent girls. Even if we didn’t quite get what rape was, we knew it was very bad and we didn’t want it to happen to us.

Sadly, the buffalo didn’t have anyone to protect them. They were shot and killed in the millions by greedy white hunters. Only selected parts of the buffalo were taken as trophies or to cash in on whatever body part was in demand – their coats, or tongues, or heads. The rest of the corpses were often left on the Prairie to rot.

So we white folk – as the now predominant culture in North America – depicted the Indians as cutthroat savages who would kill us as soon as look at us. It seems ironic that white folk under similar threats – which European settlers and military battalions certainly were to them – such action was not only expected, but lauded.

History is written by the winners. If winners is the right word to describe the victors in widespread murder and land theft. It is understood that indigenous peoples did not understand the concept of private land ownership. I understand they believed themselves to be part of and stewards of the land they lived on – not owners. This lack of discernment cost native people dearly.

I watch the mealy-mouthed machinations of the predominant white culture now trying to make amends with indigenous peoples’ for the wrongs of their ancestors’ past. Canada’s truth and reconciliation commission generated an apology from the sitting government and a national day in honor of the horrific treatment of Canada’s First Nations people, especially in residential schools.

It’s something I guess. But that’s the thing about winning. The sharpest operators know it is better to beg for forgiveness, instead of asking for permission beforehand. What’s done is done, we say.

Possession is nine tenths of the law when it comes to property ownership. Conveniently, that law came into being long after the bulk of indigenous North American Indians were pushed off the lands they occupied for thousands of years. New game. New rules.

It’s little wonder indigenous peoples are working hard to reclaim what they once had and lost. They are creating a new game with their new rules.

The World’s Happiest Man

I have followed the journey of Matthieu Ricard for many years. He is a French scientist turned monk. He’s written books. He became famous as a Harvard research study subject who underwent brain scans during meditation, proving their efficacy.

One thing you realize as you get older is that people are people are people. Even celebrities and spiritual leaders. I have always found it silly to approach celebrities with great awe and deference. They expect attention and can usually handle it. But they know they are just flawed human beings like everyone else.

So the nervous demeanor of this young-ish reporter that she reports when she approaches monk Matthieu Ricard is a bit obsequious and flagrantly starstruck. Blows up that “objective journalist” mythology. If I’m honest I did that sometimes, too, as a young journalist. It just shifts the power dynamic in the interview in favor of your subject instead of interacting as equals.

It takes time to realize that in the reporter-celebrity dyad, you are both playing distinct roles. They are acting and your job is to report on that. Matthieu Ricard kindly and consistently was having none of that with the young Guardian reporter. He is genuinely authentic in the simplicity of the spirituality he lives.

And that doesn’t take away from the fine intellect of Matthieu Ricard, as this article demonstrates. Give this Guardian article about him a go to explore that mind a bit.

Give it a go especially if you are in a rat race corporate or academic job. If you ever wondered what jumping off the hamster wheel to pursue a spiritual life might be like, read about Matthieu Ricard’s life, for example. An example he is of what it means to live simply and happily.

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2023/sep/18/the-worlds-happiest-man-matthieu-ricard-on-the-secrets-of-a-serene-successful-satisfying-life

Thank You, Jeff Brown

I hadn’t initially planned to feature other authors on this blog, but here we are. When someone says exactly what you have been thinking about and wrestling with for years, why not? What’s not to like about a website that opens with this front page: “If you want to live a more spiritual life, live a more human life. Be more truly, fiercely, heartfully human.” From, Jeff Brown, Author, Teacher, Enrealment Activist & Grounded Spiritualist. https://jeffbrown.co/

When one of his posts popped up in my Facebook feed, I emailed Jeff Brown and asked for permission to copy it to my blog. He quickly replied: “For sure.” Those of us raised by troubled and immature parents know how easy it was to take all of their deficiencies on ourselves. Children would prefer to believe it was their fault that no one was consistently there to care for and protect them. It is nearly impossible for children to put the blame for neglect and abuse on their caregivers. Their sense of self is not strong enough or big enough. Also, by taking the blame on themselves, it gives children some measure of control. And so the seeds of people-pleasing are sown. It is easier for children to believe that they are the problem than to admit their caregivers are doing a bad job.

There is one question children should not have to ask: “Who is going to take care of me?” I remember wondering that often. When Dad crumpled in a heap to the floor, weeping uncontrollably after losing his businesses, money, and marriage, I put my arms around his neck: “Don’t cry, Daddy. We’ll be all right. Everything will be all right.” At the time, I remember casting about wildly in my mind for what I might be able to do. My mother was in a mental institution at that time so could not be reached, let alone expected to help. I was 11.

Here’s what Jeff Brown writes about what children raised in that situation often do: “In order to deal with the feelings related to the absent parent, children often make the assumption that they are to blame. This is the only way they can make sense of it – if the adult isn’t loving, it must be because we are ‘unworthy.’After all, “Rachel’s father spends a lot of time with her”, and “Michael’s mother always hugs and kisses him in public.” So if yours doesn’t, it must be because there is something wrong with you, something not enough, something not worthy of love. Thus begins the internalized shame and self-blame cycle, often reflected in the disdain we feel for our bodies, our creations, and our very existence. Of course, our unworthiness is entirely untrue, but it is experienced as deeply true for the child self. And if the bitter parent actually told you that you are unworthy, or bad, or a mistake, or anything that undermines your sense of self, then you have literal evidence of your own valuelessness. Who do we believe if not the parent? Who defines us before we are ready to define ourselves? It then becomes very difficult to recognize and call out abuse and neglect, because you move through the world certain of only one thing – your inherent unworthiness. If you are constantly seeking validation and approval, if you are not yet at an egoic stage where you can recognize your own value, on what basis do you stand up to those who abuse you? I think one of the reasons I didn’t call out my mother in my early adulthood was because I had taken her negative message to heart. If I was a bad person, how could I demand she treat me with respect? If I was ‘persona non grata’ on Mother Earth, on what basis would I fight for my right to the light?”

Mr. Brown, you speak my mind. You also mirror my experience. Parents coping with addictions are absent de facto. It took an astonishing number of crises large and small in adulthood based on low self-worth for me to learn to live crisis-free. I wandered too far and too often down wrong alleys in pursuit of love and stability.

Finally, the penny dropped in that I realized to attract love and support, it was up to me to create it inside myself. You cannot drink from an empty well. I finally came to a place where I could see myself as worthy of happiness. Only then, was I able to open up to the possibility that I was capable of giving and accepting love. How I got here is the main message of the book I am writing. Jeff Brown’s take assures me there are others out there who get that type of journey, as well.

Make Our Garden Grow

I love Easter’s message about the certainty of renewal and resurrection for all of us. I love it not so much as a religious message but as a spiritual rule of life. Resurrection and renewal underscore the phases of our lives. There are repetitive patterns of death and renewal throughout. To move forward in life usually means we must leave something behind. Nothing lasts forever. Neither good times nor bad. Leaving things behind is what we need to do in order to grow. Graduation means the end of formal schooling and close connections to the pals you shared it with. Marriage, done right, is saying goodbye not only to singledom but self-centeredness. Birthing children means the end of a good night’s sleep for months on end. Okay, that shortchanges the enormity of how children affect us inside and out. When those babies eventually leave home to start their own lives a decade or so later, it can be a wrenching loss and upheaval for parents. But it can also be liberation. Time is finally available to allow us to return focus to our own interests. This pattern of death and rebirth occurs regularly in everyone’s lives. Time grants us the perspective to look back and accept the certainty of these patterns as the natural patterns of life. If we’re lucky, we get to say a gentle goodbye to every era of our life and welcome what is coming with open arms. Time presses on with or without us. Of course, it requires emotional balance and maturity to make those transitions seamlessly and successfully. Most of us traverse these fissures well enough, often accompanied by some measure of anxiety and trepidation. Most humans react predictably in the face of meeting the unknown. Farmers and gardeners are lucky to be more closely connected than most to these recurring patterns of birth, death, and rebirth. It puzzled me in my youth why gardeners – often older people – took such satisfaction from creating a garden. Looked like a lot of work for questionable results. Nowadays it makes more sense to me. A garden is a contained world we can create and tend through our own choices and efforts. We get to enjoy and share the joy from the beauty of flowers, the nourishment of fruits and vegetables, and a tract of grass that can be a carpet and a playground. A garden is also a guard against erosion – personal and spiritual. Cultivating a metaphorical garden inside ourselves that manifests in our outer life nourishes us and our loved ones. It is considered by some observers to be one of the fundamental ingredients for happiness. As the years press on, our sphere of control in the world outside gets smaller. But our inner world is eternally ours to manage. Reading books nurtures our inner garden. It takes us to places and worlds we may never visit in person and introduces us to all manner of exotica. Readers know this intimately. So do writers.