The Spiritual Activist
Practices to Transform Your Life, Your Work, and Your World
Written by Claudia Horwitz Published by Penguin Compass
Practice
Sustained exertion is not something which women and men of the world naturally love or desire, yet it is the last refuge of all. ~Dogen-Zenji, quoted in The Three Pillars of Zen by Philip Kapleau
Spiritual practice, by uprooting our personal mythologies of isolation, uncovers the radiant, joyful heart within each of us and manifests this radiance to the world. We find, beneath the wounding concepts of separation, a connection both to ourselves and to all beings. We find a source of great happiness that is beyond concepts and beyond convention. Freeing ourselves from the illusion of separation allows us to live in a natural freedom rather than be driven by preconceptions about our own boundaries and limitations. ~Sharon Saltzberg, Loving Kindness: The Revolutionary Art of Happiness
The man or woman truly on the path [to inner peace] seeks every moment as the one in which to activate life’s highest blessing. ~Paul Fleischman, Cultivating Inner Peace
What is practice?
A spiritual or reflective practice has three characteristics:
- It connects us to the presence of the sacred or that which has great
meaning in our lives.
- It is something we do. regularly (ideally on a daily basis) and without
interruption.
- It grounds us in the present moment, bringing us into awareness of what is
happening right now.
A practice is simply a habit that gives us energy and reminds us of what matters most. Every moment in our lives is a chance to be present and to open our hearts. How do we take advantage of this? How do we live each moment to the fullest? One way is by taking concentrated time each day to notice the peaks and the valleys with a tender awareness and without added drama. We can acknowledge suffering in our lives – doubt, fear, anger, sadness, or anxiety – without having to identify with them completely. This detachment can help us transform the energy of pain into strength. And it provides us with a wellspring of clarity when a difficulty or crisis arises.
There is so much competition for our attention. The television blares, a child tugs at our leg, colleagues make their demands known. There will always be plenty of reasons for our attention to be elsewhere. We spend so much of our mental energy evaluating or rehearsing. We’re sure our happiness lies in a memory of the past or what is just around the corner, but contentment lies in our ability to appreciate whatever truth is unfolding in the present. Spiritual practice brings us into the fullness of the here and now. It is a reprieve from the mind’s fascination with rehashing the events of the past or preparing for the future. It is a relief to be where life does not need any alteration.
Having a practice helps us pay concentrated attention to the inner voice – a presence that has the power to continually reinform the activities of our daily life. So while spiritual practice can seem like a selfish activity, in fact it helps to dissolve our preoccupation with self. Through practice we cultivate a sense of peace and compassion that pervades the rest of our relationships and activities.
Turning Point
It was the summer I turned twenty-seven when I first learned what a spiritual practice was and began meditating. I had gotten myself into a work commitment that I didn’t believe in, and probably wasn’t qualified for, and the results, felt disastrous. Shaken by what I could only see as failure, I realized that I had no idea which values were driving my decisions or how I could find courage when the going got tough. What is my anchor in the world? I wondered.
I made a pilgrimage to see two friends on their farm in Kentucky, and I described my dilemma. I was honest about the degree of pain this incident had caused me and the deeper insecurities that had been sparked in the process. I was at loose ends. My friends looked at me and very matter-of-factly told me that I needed a spiritual practice. “But, I have a therapist,” I responded. They patiently explained that wasn’t what they were talking about. I’d never heard this term “spiritual practice” before. I wanted a definition. Instead, they presented me with three possible routes out of my despair: read, meditate, or pray. (Now I know there are infinitely more types of practice, but this limited range of options was quite useful at the time. I was already reading more than enough for graduate school, and prayer seemed loaded with the current ambiguity of my relationship to Judaism, my root tradition. I chose medita tion. They shared some of the basics with me and I began to explore this seemingly bizarre concept of just sitting with my breath.
Back home later that summer, I set up a corner of my room with two plants, a photograph of the New Mexico mountains, stones, and a clay pot that had been given to me. And I began to practice. Every morning, I sat. Sometimes it was only five minutes, sometimes ten or fifteen. Regardless, within just a few days strange things began to happen. Every night I would get home and think, “Today was a pretty good day.” I didn’t overreact so much. I was nicer to people. I accomplished most of what I hoped to accomplish for the day. Within days, meditation was bringing me a sense of calm detachment that I’d never experienced before. I worried less about what other people thought and what I was missing in the world. My highs and lows weren’t as gut-wrenching.
In the decade since, my practice has had its ups and downs. Some days I can’t sit for ten minutes without looking at my watch. Some days I can sit for half an hour without flinching. Some days I skip it altogether and then pay the price later. When I neglect my practice, I simply feel off. The day begins to unravel and it’s often too difficult for me to piece it back together again. I’m not as focused or patient, with myself or with others. Little things cause a lot of frustration. I’m less hopeful, more easily overwhelmed and distracted. I talk more, but the words seem to mean less. It is almost as if my ego expands into the space that usually fills up with the presence of spirit. I’ve come to realize that it’s really not about being good or bad at meditation; it’s just about doing it. When I meditate, my life feels more authentic and less of a struggle.
Over time, this morning meditation has become an act of remembering who I am and who God is in my life. I have realized that I need a period of solitude in the morning, anywhere from one to three hours, to function as a sane and loving human being in the world the rest of the day. So I start my days with a quiet that lets me sink below the surface of my daily routine and my mind’s chatter. I begin with yoga because I find it hard to concentrate unless I’ve awakened my body first. Then, I sit with the breath. After that I find I have emptied out some – there is a slight re leasing of anxiety, memory, or negativity. So, that seems like the right time to set the tone for my day with a reading from a work of spiritual philosophy, poetry, or sacred text. Finally, I usually need to write, even if it’s just a page in my notebook. This helps me codify what I’m wrestling with, declare my intentions, record the specifics I want to re member, and explore experiences that have been particularly impactful.
Of course, it doesn’t always work out this way. There are mornings when I am lucky if I find fifteen minutes to stretch a little and meditate. Because I travel a lot, I am constantly finding creative ways to maintain my practice on the road. The bigger challenge has been to refrain from judging myself when I don’t do what I “should” be doing. I’ve learned that a little is better than none. When my practice is strong, I am more aware of the energy that pervades every living being and more awed by the interaction between these living beings. When I take time to honor myself and my relationship to this life force I notice the extraordinary in the ordinary and beautiful things that happen in my life. I ask more questions and I tend to do only one thing at a time. My relationship with myself and with others deepens. I am more likely to embrace change and even to surrender control. I find I have more energy. I am more joyful. My practice is the foundation. Sometimes it is shaky and sometimes it is strong, but it is always there.
Questions for reflection
What are your associations with habit? Routine? Discipline?
Do you do anything on a regular basis that connects you to the sacred or to your sense of spirit?
How do these current activities enhance your life? What impact do they have?
If you do have some kind of practice, is it very different from the spiritual or faith activities you were brought up with?
Developing a spiritual practice
As one matures in spiritual life, one becomes more comfortable with paradox, more appreciative of life’s ambiguities, its many levels and inherent conflicts. One develops a sense of life’s irony, metaphor, and humor and a capacity to embrace the whole, with its beauty and outrageousness, in the graciousness of the heart. – Jack Komfield, A Path with Heart
Imagine carving out twenty minutes every day to renew your rela tionship to spirit. Is there something you already do sporadically or occasionally that could become a more regular practice? Use the grid below to notice what you already do that you might consider spirit ual. This can be anything from a walk in the woods to reading sacred text in the morning to writing in your journal to attending your house of worship to meditation. It might be a work-related activity: a short, daily check-in with a coworker, an action that signals the beginning of your workday, or a regular cleanup of common workspace. Be as specific as you can. You may not remem ber everything right away, so fill the grid out over the course of a couple of days. Don’t worry how many boxes are left blank.
What types of spiritual or faith-based activities or practices are you curious about?
| Alone | With Others | At Work | |
| Daily | |||
| Weekly | |||
| Monthly | |||
| Yearly |
Once you feel the grid is complete, reflect on what information it is giving you:
Which boxes are full? Which are empty? What does this reflect?
Do you nurture your spiritual life mostly alone, mostly with others, or both?
How often do you do each activity or practice?
Do these activities cost money?
How convenient are most of these activities? Do any require a trip away from home?
Here are some possible practices, Note your reactions to them:
| reading | art | keeping a Sabbath |
| meditation | music | silence |
| prayer | dance | planting/gardening |
| yoga | exercise | sports |
| writing | fasting | studying sacred texts |
| walking | t’ai chi | pilgrimage |
| cooking | crafts | service work/volunteering |
Now revisit the same grid, only this time with the intention of writing down anything you might want to explore. Brainstorm. Write down everything that comes to mind as a possibility – whatever interests you. Maybe there was one thing you remember doing two years ago or something you heard about from a friend or something you read about that sounded interesting. Don’t worry about how remote or unlikely it might seem – write it down.
| Alone | With Others | At Work | |
| Daily | |||
| Weekly | |||
| Monthly | |||
| Yearly |
Reflect on the questions below. Again, these questions do not have to be answered in one day; consider your responses over the course of a week or two. Different times and different moods will yield new reactions and ideas.
What do you want more of in your life? What do you want to know more about?
What activities or practices help you in difficult times?
What is the best time for you to incorporate a practice?
What is/are the best place(s)?
What do you need to make this happen? What might stand in your way?
Which relationships encourage you to be your best self? Which are holding you back?
What course or class might you be interest in taking?
The primary criteria for a practice is that it be something you can do every day with some degree of commitment and authenticity. This doesn’t mean you should expect to love your practice every day. On the contrary, there will always be days where it is the last thing you want to do. This is resistance to be noticed and lovingly overcome. Jack Kornfield, author and co-founder of the Insight Meditation Society, talks about the need to “take the’one seat,” because it is through repeated commitment that true understanding and maturity are possible. To keep changing our practice will not benefit us in the long run.
Which path is the right one?
When we find a practice or a path that is right for us, we usually know it immediately. Here are three questions to ask yourself:
- Does this practice fill you with awe?
- Can you surrender to the practice?
- Does the practice have heart?
If the practice fills you with awe, at least most of the time, it will likely be something that can sustain and delight you, even when it is challenging. We are too much in need of awe not to find it in our spiritual life. Though it can certainly be joyous, practice is not meant to be easy. If we’re prepared to be humbled by a path we have chosen, we may find it easier to maintain some discipline without judging ourselves for our shortcomings in it. Rather than worrying about how good we are at something, when we surrender to our practice, it leads the way. And if it has heart, it likely will have staying power.
Teachers and allies
Teachers and allies are quite useful along the spiritual path. In begin ning or deepening a spiritual journey, consider who in your life can support you. The process will have its highs and lows. You may feel as though there is never enough time or the right time. It may feel strange at times, and it’s easy to lose sight of why you are doing this practice at all. A teacher, ally, or partner can help you navigate all of this and stay committed when you may be ready to give up.
In the West, many of us struggle with the concept of a guru. This Sanskrit word is actually a combination of gu, darkness, ‘and ru,’ removal. So it means “one who removes darkness,” and this is what great teachers do. They reflect back to us our best selves, the spark of divinity within. They are people who have done, and continue to do, the kind of work it takes to clear as much of the ego as possible. The individual becomes a clear vessel and this is what enables them to be present and loving without a lot of projections, reactions, advice, or judgment. Not an embodiment of perfection, they are constant reminders of the best people we can be. There is an old saying, “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” Your teacher might be someone you have known for a long time. He or she might come in the form of a friend or clergyperson. She or he may be someone who: shares a significant lesson or resource with you, who teaches you a .; specific practice, or whose life experience is so resonant that you learn from sharing your journeys. Most of us will have more than'” one teacher in our lifetime.
Do you have any kind of spiritual support system now?
If yes, is it adequate? How might you shift or strengthen it? If not, how could you develop one?
Is there someone in particular with whom you can imagine sharing parts your journey?
Can you choose a friend to exchange letters or E-mails with as you grow, these ways?
Have you met any spiritual mentors, allies? or teachers with whom you might establish regular contact?
Write it down: keeping track
As you begin developing a spiritual practice, consider keeping track of what you’re doing and the effect it is having in a journal or notebook. You can use it to record experiences and your reactions to them. Writing about them will only increase your understanding of what is happening and the changes taking place internally. You will probably become aware of new information about yourself and the world around you, and more conscious of certain emotions that are surfacing. Add images that convey meaning. Write down prayers, meditations, and other exercises that have been useful to you, and, make a note of resources you hear about: books, articles, workshops, teachers, and groups.
Making time
Inevitably, when you start thinking about developing a spiritual
practice, barriers will surface. The most common revolve around time, and our perception of how little of it we have. It’s easy to take a look at our full lives and wonder how we’ll find the space for practice when we’re faced with the demands of a busy life at home, work, or both. I have heard that the Dalai Lama manages to do his spiritual practice six hours each day, even though he is pretty busy being the spiritual leader of Tibet and running an exiled Buddhist community in Dharamsala, India. I try to remember this when I am tempted to whine about time.
Over the course of a week, keep track of all the ways you spend your time. From the time you wake up in the morning until you go to bed, write down each activity that you spend time on and how long you do it. At the end, add up the hours spent on each activity. Make some choices from this. Do you consistently work late? Do you make four trips to the grocery store each week when twO would suffice? Are there habits or hobbies that don’t feed you :hat you might be willing to give up? Do you spend a lot of time on the phone with friends you see regularly? Ask a friend to help you think through possibilities and brainstorm options for revising your daily routine. Spiritual practice can thrive on twenty to thirty minutes each day.
Retreats
Retreats can be an effective way to deepen a new practice or rejuvenate one that is waning. Don’t be fooled by the word “retreat”. You are not escaping anything. A retreat can and should be a period of rest and renewal, but it can also be quite challenging. The best way to work up to a longer period of time is by starting with shorter ones. A day spent in a quiet location with no distractions may inspire you to plan a whole weekend away or sign up for a workshop in something that interests you. That in turn may lead you to begin planning an even longer visit. Many retreat centers offer long-term options (ten days to three months and even longer) and some include a work component that can significantly reduce the cost. A list of retreat centers appears in the Appendix.
The right time
Julia Scatliff O’Grady, a time coach, helps people shape their days through a unique look at our relationship with time.
The biggest myth – it’s legend now – is that there is a right time for an action to take place Another myth is that you can manipulate time: Save it, make it, smush it. Time is beyond our ability to save. Time is just a way we have found to interact with the sun and the moon and now we don’t even use the sun or moon anymore.
You will know how much time you have for a new endeavor by how you typically spend your time now. Often, when you launch a new practice, a new year’s resolution, or anything big you’re so incredibly ambitious, that you implode by day three. Seeing how you spend your time now is, to me, the best indicator of how your practice will become a part of your life. If you know that you are a night person and you decide that you’re going to get up every morning at 6:30 to meditate, that’s a recipe for disaster, because when have you ever gotten up at 6: 30? Maybe your practice needs to be at 11: 30 at night.
It’s hard to see your natural patterns to follow those rather than what your head is telling you to do. The power of the body clock is so much more powerful than the mind, If I was trying to build in twenty to thirty minutes a day for practice, and I had never done anything in a daily way, I’d have to find ways to trick myself. I’d find someone to call me every day to make sure I was doing it. Or I’d do practice every other day at first. I’d have to have a hunger to begin. It wouldn’t be because I felt I should. I’d have to have the hunger to bring a practice into my life.
The first stage of doing a time inventory for your life is so key. Just about everyone has some way she or he can look at the past six months. This is a good stretch because you can see seasons change and patterns build on themselves. Then look at your energy levels, when they’re low, when they’re high. If you’re trying to do something like start a practice and your best time is ten A.M. to twelve P.M. but you’re at work, can you come into work early so you have that time from ten A.M. to twelve P.M. to do your practice, instead of trying to do it at seven A.M. when you might better off doing your work?
What kind of community can you build around yourself to honor your hopes? If you figure out that your best time to build a practice from eight to nine at night, tell people. Maybe a friend calls you at 8:15 and you pick up the phone and they ask, “Why aren’t you doing your practice?” It’s really hard to do a new thing alone, unless you’re incredibly self-disciplined, and most of us are not. Your first response might not work and that’s often when people stop and say they don’t have time. There’s some diligence is required and some compassion. You may not know right now but if you sit in a chair every day, you will figure it out. The whole thing about 99.9 percent of life is showing up is really true.
