In all my journeys there seems to be a place or two that offers rest and recuperation to the weary traveler. As you plod along, a vista or a cafe or a comfortable inn seems to rise magically from the road that you’ve chosen. On the spiritual path the sangha delivers this type of relief and restorative energy. In simple terms, sangha means community and the sangha can be found in many unlikely places.

For Buddhists the sangha is one of the three forms of refuge equal to the dharma and the Buddha. We often think of the Buddhist sangha as a collection of monks, nuns and seekers engaged in marathon meditation but the sangha can be found in the baseball dugout, on the street and in the neighborhood. It is the comfort of the like minded and like intentioned. The sangha members pass on wisdom, clarify intentions, affirm agreed upon dogma and share knowledge …they are the highest form of unity. They give us peace on the journey.

Mother Teresa once said, “if we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other. ” The sangha is the belonging.

As you form your personal community it is important to remember that you have responsibilities to the sangha in proportion to the comfort they have provided you. The sangha requires you to be aware, open and free of expectation and that can be hard. In these times, we gather our dear ones to us and we receive and we give. The awareness of your place on the spiritual road comes from your spiritual GPS.

What have we done for our community today?

I hope you have your sangha beside you, and if you don’t, I hope it is around the next bend on your long road. The good news is that we are programmed as humans to find our fellow travelers. That amazing old Roman, Cicero put it well a couple of thousand ears ago: we were born to unite with our fellow men and to form in community with the human race. ”

Find your tribe.

There is a passage in the Bible that is compelling. The evangelist , Saint Matthew, reports that Jesus gave what appears to be an admonition to his followers: “he who has ears to hear, let him hear.” In Western culture this statement suggests that one must know the rules and follow them to find the land of the spirit. Perhaps because Matthew is the patron saint of tax collectors and accountants this insight is interpreted to mean something like “get with the program.”

What if this is not the point at all.

I now believe that the meaning in this statement has to do with awareness and intention. Perhaps we are tasked with the need to become aligned with creation, its many signals of abundance and heavenly energy. We are here to hear birdsong ,the laughter of children and the sounds of the surf…to realize the benefits of heaven’s generosity. We are surrounded by miracles and we are miracles ourselves.

Lately I have ramped up my readings of spiritual texts and it is interesting to note that Westerners seem to always look to the East. Searchers are weary of religion with its rules and fearful consequences for non-compliance ; they seek a kinder, gentler path. Whether you read Thich Nhat Hanh, Ouspensky, Thomas Merton, Alan Watts or Pema Chodron one thing becomes clear: you don’t have to have a long search to find the beginning of a spiritual path…if you have ears to hear. There are miracles everywhere and they start with the simple fact that you are here.

I am on the scout for miracles.

The process of sharpening my hearing is a long one. I often want to put my fingers in my ears when horrible things happen or when frustrations accrue and I have to consciously resist the need to shut every sound out- to hear the world’s sounds as mere noise or cacophony…to entirely miss the music. American novelist Will Cather makes an observation that resonates :” Miracles…seem to me to rest not so much upon…healing power coming suddenly near us from afar but upon our perceptions being made finer , so that, for a moment, our eyes can see and our ears can hear what is there around us always. .”

As the journey continues , I will listen to the harmony.

When a sharper focus is needed or a challenge needs to be met, humans often indulge in ritual. Rituals are dangerous because they so easily become a deliberate and grim routine but they can also be comforting and surprisingly effective. The bad side of ritual can be observed in the career of Mike Hargrove. Dubbed “the human rain delay,” Hargrove went through a routine/ritual before every pitch. Wikipedia describes it step by step: “it consisted of 1) adjusting his helmet, 2) adjusting his batting glove, making sure it was tight on his hand and especially the thumb, 3) pulling each sleeve on his uniform up about an inch and 4) wiping each hand on his uniform pants …and then repeating the whole process again.”

It is clear that rituals can become absurd very quickly and become a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder in an instant. Ironically most people need them to be happy.

As a young man I was buried in rituals. Ritual prayer and readings and prescribed, time based activities were the order of the day. In the ensuing years, I have combatively resisted anything that even looked like a ritual. Lately things have changed.

I have come to need a certain element of ritual to give context and a sense of well-being. I agree with novelist Pat Conroy who observed, ” the human soul can always use a new tradition. ” I have tried on a few new rituals and have adopted a few that were tested. The first is the morning 10 minute sit. For ten minutes before I subject my wife-and the world- to my glorious presence, I breathe quietly as an entering device. I also scrub the sleep from my eyes and dedicate the day to peace. I add a seven word mantra.

A second ritual is the ten minute cool off. When upset or anxious I will spend ten minutes thinking about the dynamics of the situation and my role in the event.

I am still shopping for other rituals that may be sustaining …always aware of the fact that too many rituals will slow up the game. A further benefit is the fact that rituals of this type are active and I do not get to sleep in a cloud of incense as sutras are read.

Ritual can surely be an ally on a spiritual quest. Hopefully I will pick good ones that don’t delay the game.

Many who hear the word discipline immediately conjure visions of punishment and abuse, in spite of the fact that the word is the same as disciple… indicating a follower of a plan. Discipline refers to the energy of the intention one has to seek harmony with a greater program designed to achieve goals such as a national title or a state of grace. A disciplined person is the one who follows well and meets the short -term goals that lead to the greater good. Basketball coach Pat Riley once quipped that ‘”discipline is not a dirty word”, and he is right. Discipline, is the word that conjures the systematic and tireless effort that leads to excellence.

On the spiritual quest discipline is key. Time must be carved out for spiritual practice and that practice must be repeated constantly. We retain what we repeat and we must create a place and a program that guarantees our training. This can be as simple as taking ten minutes in the morning to do as Anne Sexton advises …”put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.” It can be any of a number of programmed breathings or timed cushion sessions or affirmations. Whatever way is chosen, one must follow repeatedly and with intention.

As a baseball coach I learned about how much we resist repetition. Tell a kid he is going to field 100 ground balls and watch his eyes cloud over as his face falls. Again, repetition is seen as a punishment and not what it truly is …the only open road to excellence. I remember the Priests reading the breviary – the liturgy of the hours- the book demands a series of prayers and devotions to be read at seven different times during the day. This is the spiritual equivalent of the driving range where ones game is slowly perfected.

So, I am checking out the path and the disciplines that make following it possible. Fortunately, there are many trainings out there from meditation, visualization, scholarly reading and types of prayer to chi walking and yoga. It should be fun to try them all…again. By following-being a good disciple-I might actually get somewhere. I might find a certain type of truth. I might satisfy my soul.

“The battleline between good and evil runs through the heart of everyman.” A. Solzhenitsyn. The spiritual quest often seems to take on the qualities of war, with tactical forays, pitched battles, and deadly, difficult emotions. I think the sharpness of the conflict eases a bit with age and I have arrived at a point where peace talks are the next step. Many interests are sitting at my interior conference table including resentment, anger and stubbornness sitting across from ethics, wisdom and the desire for peace. These forces are in constant conflict and many second agendas arise but certain negotiating tactics also emerge. My first default is the interior monologue that weighs and measures…that asks questions of morality, conscience and intent.

Where is the path of peace? How can I disengage from the battle? How much should I concede in the interests of peace? Many of the answers are counter-intuitive and some seem completely impossible. For example the “resist not evil” argument, an argument framed in our religious background as, “turn the other cheek,” seems both crazy and impossible. It’s crazy until you interiorize it to mean that non-resistance is the highest form of self care. By acceptance of this injunction -in my interior being- I can remain safely out of combat…in fact, conflict disappears alltogether. In the external world I can resist evil unburdened by the interior malady of anger and revenge.

As I watch the willful departure from common sense and the mindless grasping that goes on around us I can refuse to participate in the interest of my own inner peace.

A second ally in my highly internal peace talks is prayer. Prayer is a word that needs to be sanitized and reforged. Prayer is often thought of in hyper-religious terms and this is a shame. Prayer should be the inner peace conference that goes on in the hearts of all of us as we decide -by seeking- what response we will have to the destructive forces that seek to keep us warring. I think everyone prays in some way that is comfortable for them. The hope for positive outcomes or the welfare of others is prayer, indeed. It has nothing to do with recitation by rote, ritual or absolution…it is simply the desire to connect with powers greater than ourselves. There is no greater freedom than to be given the choice to participate in evil or move forward to the light.

There will be no metanoia-no fundamental conversion-that will change how we look at the world, it will be a life-long series of peace talks regarding life and our place in it.

Bertrand Russell said it perfectly: “the good life is inspired by love and guided by knowledge.” Knowledge comes slowly through the willingness to engage in spiritual negotiations. Currently, we are bombarded with incentives to join in many battles but I hope we consider that battle of souls that all of us must fight.

Defend your sacred space.

As a product if a religious education I was introduced early to the idea of daily spiritual reading and one of my recent sessions led me to The Sermon on the Mount by Emmet Fox. Described by some as as “scientist, philosopher and spiritual leader,” Fox wrote his take on divine wisdom in the1930’s. As I read along it became crystal clear to me that spiritual happiness – life living excellence – is largely the result of habit. We become what we do consistently. It was also clear that many of my thoughts and actions were based on what the pros call cognitive distortions. Further, I was given a name for my central weakness: catastrophizing.

It is catastrophizing that leads to anxiety and depression and fundamental disconnection with life’s joys. For me, the parking will always be tough, the check will never be in the mail, there will never be enough…and so on. The perception that the cosmos is out to get you is sick with ego and wrong thinking and ironically there is an element of self annihilation that swirls around as well. An egomaniac with an inferiority complex influenced by sloppy perception and flawed thinking. How do we stop this automatic negativity?

There are many theories including chanting, yoga and cognitive behavioral therapy but every solution requires the ability to recognize your distortions for what they are. Challenging our own thinking is a skill that has consistently eroded in our culture over time. The explosion of conspiracy theories and alternative facts that dominate our lives do not help much. As we try to right size our fears and tremblings more grist is shoved into our mindmill by the minute …it is hard to create space.

I think I will try to develop new habits of mind as a sort of backfire that halts a rolling conflagration. Mantras of positive tone, daily spiritual reading, relying on the power of loved ones will all be helpful techniques. We invest wildly to insure our economic and physical health so it seems logical to invest in our spiritual prosperity in equal measure. After all, as Marianne Williamson said, “the spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and the acceptance of love.” Who wouldn’t want that?

Let the un-learning begin.

A recent extended stay at a mountain lake in Washington State prompts a long meditation on nature. Thoreau reminds me to, “resign yourself to the influence of the earth” and as I try to follow that advice certain windows into human nature open. It seems that we wish to be one with the natural world but we actually are conflicted by the whole experience. Certain people have found harmony in nature and I seem to remain in constant counterpoint…I am both fascinated and repelled, peaceful and at war.

Humans have often been accused of fearing change but I think we actually have a rage for it . We throw stones into placid waters, remove straight sticks from their natural places for hiking support and gather driftwood to build structures on otherwise pristine beaches. To our credit – and shame – we are never happy leaving things as they are. We create right angles in a world that is random and ramiform. Interbeing eludes us in the play of predator and prey. When we seek harmony we often find dissonance.

I am truly envious of the Thoreaus, Muirs and Dillards who hear only the beautiful harmony of nature. I am painfully aware of the bites and sticky things that await in the wilderness. It is hard to abide in a glen buzzing with insects that want to suck your blood. On the other hand, I am aware of the mountains majesty and the perfection of a cool breeze coming off an ice-fed river…counterpoint.

I guess I am what Thoreau called a “Moss Trooper,” a weekender, not a through hiker. For me, nature is like many a European city… a great place to visit but I wouldn’t want to live there. I am not cool when it comes to the outdoors and I have let my REI membership lapse. I have never rhapsodized about a hike up a 5,000 foot peak or its gain per mile, its degree of difficulty.

Yes, I am conflicted and I see no way out of it. On that note I’ll finish this blog because I need to look at my Ansel Adams book of photographs of El Capitan and plug in the bug zapper.

Masks are everywhere. Comedy and tragedy are represented by masks, kids wear them on Halloween, we are cautioned to secure our mask first should oxygen become necessary. We wear masks to sleep and to hide our true identity, but our familiarity with the mask does not ease the discomfort that often comes when we don them. Oscar Wilde saw the freedom of the mask when he observed, “the man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he will tell you the truth.”

In the 16th and early 17th century a new art form was created; a mixture of dancing, singing and acting that occurred behind the mask and suggested allegorical meaning to the audience. The performances suggested meanings that were not specifically stated in the plot but suggested – alluded to – in subtle representations of clues and evocation. Often gods and goddesses were represented as themes of love, delight and death were explored. Or recent experience with masks gives a unique insight into the Masque of Covid America.

We are watching the performance right now.

The performance includes the antics of those who refuse to wear masks because of a false equivalence: that masks wearing is an infringement on personal freedom. This obstinate refusal suggests that some believe that they have no responsibility to their brothers and sisters, that the difficulty they have breathing behind the mask is more important than stopping the breathing of others. Their convenience out weighs another’s right to life. The Count of Monte Cristo asserts, “I wear the mask. The mask does not wear me.” The non-maskers are being “worn by the mask,” to everyone’s detriment. We know that death is inescapable but we do what is necessary to delay it. Some of us do…

We can not shut ourselves off in Prospero’s castle to prevent covid and our wealth and possessions will not defend us. Streaming videos, writing our memoirs or dusting off our old stamp collection will have no bearing on our survivability. In parts of the US vaccinations are below 35% of the population and anti-vaxers continue to resist. People get into fights over mask wearing. We are well-and truly-insane.

We cannot afford to be cocky and we must use every prophylactic method available to us. I hope that our current craziness does not provide the greater – allegorical – meaning in our little play.

Wear the mask, do not let it wear you.

The other day my wife and I were joined by fellow Gang of Eight members to take on a five mile walk around a local lake. A quick inventory of the participants yielded a litany of medical conditions that were natural to our aging. We had bad backs, knees, osteoporosis and many other conditions that were a challenge to performance. We had all been victimized by the, “whips and scorns of time.” We soldiered on with the stoic acceptance that we had learned over the years but our little pains and discomforts forced us to grapple with how things used to be. In earlier years my wife was a marathoner who regularly did 20 mile training runs and our partners had stories of mega hikes and physical prowess that were now a part of the past. I did half marathons but this five mile test was a daunting one. WE ARE GETTING OLD.

Lately, we have gotten many stories of our friends packing up and “moving closer to the kids.” Strange medical reports are showing conditions that were unexpected and unwelcome. It seems that the questions of our youth (what are we doing today?) have morphed into assessments of our ability to do some basic things. Do we dare to eat a peach? Everyone who is fortunate enough gets to age, but it is a challenge that we are unprepared for. Few stages of life get more attention than aging. Hallmark Cards are everywhere reminding us that we are not getting old …we are becoming classics. Assertions such as, “age is just a number’ and many other platitudes are paraded before us to interdict our slide into depression. We are counseled to fight the tendency to catalog all that we have lost over time.

As always, I seek the wisdom of others to help me navigate this time of shocking change. I want to believe the words of Spanish/Mexican filmmaker Luis Bunuel who quipped, “age is something that doesn’t matter, unless you are a cheese.” About halfway around that lake I was a 185 pound chunk of cheddar. The pains in my back and calf muscles were definitely the sharp smells of a cheese left too long in the sun.

But it’s not always like that.

Sometimes, I can truly see the beauty of aging. Freedom increases and the rage to be appropriate wanes…if I want to wear gaudy socks, call out crazy, or stay in my pajamas all day, my age allows me to carry on with almost anything that makes me happy. I am called sir by the twenty somethings in stores and I even get a discount on frozen yogurt. Wisdom accrues in proportion to time served. On a higher level, I get to be an influence on younger people in my world. If they don’t actually listen to me they are kind enough to act like my advice is useful and-at times-compelling.

My most important goal is to adapt and and continue on… to be able to say the words of Frank Lloyd Wright: “the longer I live the more beautiful life becomes. “

The search for truth can be arduous, or pleasant but in every case the process is a journey from our current reality to a new – often unexpected state of affairs. Our senses and predilections often play tricks on us and that complicates the voyage. There are four lanes on the road from here to what is true. The first lane is objective truth where an event or phenomenon is subject to proof by demonstration. Objective truth allows us to assert that the sun rises in the east and that ice is cold. The second lane is normative truth… truths that one or more persons agree on. This allows us to label our neighbor as a Nosy Rosie because we agree that he/she can’t mind their own business. Lane three is complex truth or a state in which an objective, or subjective, truth leads to a secondary behavior: it is 100 degrees…we should apply sunscreen. Lane four is subjective truth – truth not based on experience.

As we try to capture our realities, we often change lanes quite abruptly. There are those who never leave their lane. They choose the subjective truth based on narrative rather that the objective truth based on measurable data. Constant abiding in the subjective lane leads into the land of belief. When we posit that something is true because I want it to be, no amount of objective truth will change a course. There is no room for healthy adaptation or space for productive communication.

Our current fracturing as a society is a traffic jam caused by the collision of two wildly different types of thinking. The first type is called a posteriori reasoning; knowledge gained through experience and disciplined observation and the second type – a priori reasoning that is independent from from experience.

Subjective reasoning and its a priori style can lead to the most outrageous detours on the journey. Further, subjective truth at its most toxic makes organization(s) and relationships virtually impossible. We are often reminded that our nation is possible because we share common truths but lately our fascination with subjective visions has led us to chaos and the fundamental inability to communicate with each other.

It is not true because you think, hope or strategize that it is and we now have folks believing that there is an international sex trafficking ring, that there is an evil cabal called the Illuminati and that Russia didn’t meddle in our elections. It seems that we need to merge into the fast lane of demonstrable truth without delay or the resulting pile up will be catastrophic.

When objective truth becomes normative truth we will begin to heal ourselves.