I have always been fascinated by humans, women in particular, who have the capacity and the drive to push their bodies and minds further, higher, faster, longer than us regular folks. I love seeing what’s possible in the human condition and I have always wondered why I don’t seem to have that desire, that nature. I’m curious about where that comes from in the people who spend their lives honing and refining their body so as to make it a true instrument of endurance. I know that a great deal of mental fortitude is part of that kind of life, too. To push past pain, to push past self-generated limitations, to go places and do things no one else has ever done. This is fascinating to me.
As I’ve grown older I’ve committed myself to what I would call a of path of spiritual endurance. I don’t think there was ever a moment when I decided … this is the plan … It was more a series of events (some of them unfortunate) and decisions along the way. And a discovery that once one is on this road there is no turning back, there is no other way.
There is also no ribbon, no trophy, no awards dinner, no sponsorships. No one in our culture seems to care much about the spiritual life. Maybe because it’s intertwined with religion, a true tragedy. Maybe it’s because the pay-off comes in small increments. Maybe it’s too hazy and confusing. Quite possibly it’s just too much work.
For the most part we shy away from the language of the soul here in Western culture. I mean, we have Soul Cycle and Soul Surfer and Soul, the Disney movie. We have a lot of folks who have taken bits and pieces from Eastern traditions and woven them into exercise habits and meditation practices. Nothing wrong with all of this. Something is better than nothing, right? Still, I do wonder why our lives here are so void of spiritual teachings and understandings.
I imagine what it takes to prepare one’s self to, say, run 100 miles in the mountains (I know people who do this), or climb one of the Himalayan peaks. I’ve seen up-close what it takes to train for Olympic nordic skiing events as we have a training team here in our little corner of Vermont. Truthfully, whenever I see what they’re doing, I want to take a nap. Just looking makes me tired.
The level of devotion it takes to participate in life this way is so admirable and so puzzling.
And yet I have been on a journey of spiritual development for a decade now and I know what it takes: daily attention, sometimes hourly. Mantras, reminders, readings, studying, writing and reflection, practice, practice, practice. I took to the pulpit eight years ago to speak on this each Sunday. That’s close to 400 lectures on the subject of spiritual growth. Is it the same as racing every weekend or climbing a mountain each week?
Maybe.
I got a Master’s degree along the way. Four years and many papers, classes, discussions. I have been to workshops and taken personal retreats to think more deeply about everything I’ve learned. I have mentored other people along the way and I have taken the work to the streets in all kinds of different capacities: burying the dead, marrying the smitten. I’ve carried the light to hospital rooms and hospice bedsides, to ski slopes and homeless shelters.
I have tried to stretch myself further, by practicing communication with those who have died and by healing myself from illness. By asking over and over, what am I supposed to learn from this? I have forsaken what many consider to be life’s pleasures: drugs and alcohol, in order to be better prepared for in-spir-ation: the moments when I might actually experience the in-breaking of spiritual enlightenment.
There is no doubt I have been running a spiritual marathon for the last ten years. But there is no finish line, that’s the catch. There may be a beginning, but there is no end.
The thing, of course, is that in life, in competition, in the spaces where people are pushing themselves, they are always competing against someone else. In order to be the first it requires that someone else is second or third. The goal is to beat someone else there: to the top, to the finish line. The goal is to go faster than others, longer, higher, further … than someone else.
There is no competitor when it comes to spiritual endurance. It’s you and time. You and your life. You and your past (and past lives). It is as solo a journey as ever there was.
Is it possible to win? I have no idea. Maybe there is a finish line. Maybe it’s what we call nirvana. Maybe it’s utter, total and complete integration with all of the cosmic forces of creation. That seems worth the effort, doesn’t it?
I have no muscles to show you for ten years of spiritual training. There are no outward signs that might inspire anyone else to join the fray. I can’t hype supplements or sell you any snazzy equipment. The whole thing is really un-sexy.
But I can tell you this: there is a deep, deep well of satisfaction and peace to be found when one submits one’s self to this process. You’re not going to make any money or become popular on Instagram. Spiritual work-outs aren’t even obvious to the rest of the world. No one will know or care what you’re up to. You have to be content with minute changes that happen over a long period of time. We’re not all that great at this sort of thing, which is probably why spiritual curiosity, training and endurance aren’t really a thing around here. Give us a finish line, a time to beat, a record to break and we are on it! Give us the goal of spiritual evolution and we are already wondering what’s for dinner.
I was never much of a competitive athlete. I had no drive to win anything. I played many sports over the years, but mostly I sucked at all of them, though I had a lot of fun. The ones that mattered have stuck with me: I still love to ski; riding my bike brings me infinite joy. Tennis, ice skating. I’ll huff it around a rink with a stick and puck any day. And yet my drive to grow spiritually is so intense that I’m not even sure what to make of it. I am fully committed to the process, though it’s hard work on the daily with barely-discernible results.
Still, I believe this may be the only kind of work-out worth our while: engaging the life of the spirit in pull-ups and sprints and stretches and long-distance runs. I think that feats of athleticism probably lead here eventually, too. I think that ultimately we’re all seeking the same thing: transcendence. My path is just a little slower, just one foot in front of the other. No medals, no spectators, no podium, no Hall of Fame. As far as I can tell, anyway … 👻🥇🤷♀️
First of all, thank you for the subscription. All this crazy technology trying to figure out how to do sign was getting nuts!!
We’ll be reading your other writings, but this one struck a cord. Ever since Meri and I moved permanently to VT last year, we’ve been looking for a spiritual community. You and the little Peru Chuch were a much needed and appreciated door that opened for us.
Ironically we’ve been talking about maybe starting a spiritual discussion group with like minded people that could meet once or twice a month. We belonged to a group like this in CT that met each week for soup, meditation, and spiritual discussion based on a book, poem, song, etc.
We hunger for spiritual community which for us is not found in organized religion as a general rule. (Catholic, Jewish). We agree with you that up here it’s even harder to find but yet the VT backdrop is ideal for it.
We don’t know the congregation that well yet to know if this would be of interest although we suspect it would for some based on informal conversation.
With the long winter almost upon us and the crazy uncertainty of our country right now, spiritual community would be a balm for our souls.
We’d love your thoughts and input.
XO P&M