Intersections Between Merton and Me
With enough distance in the rear-view mirror, we are occasionally able to “connect the dots” regarding the key experiences that we’ve been graced with during our life. Sometimes, albeit rarely, this process of “recontextualization” (i.e. examination, introspection, and conclusion) may even occur between our current appearance in form and a prior advent(s). Because the topic of reincarnation is such an important one for many people, I want to briefly depart from this blog’s primary theme and state that, from my perspective, there is only One life, as each of us is a unique expression of Life Itself. The main reason some think in terms of “past” and “future” incarnations is that, knowingly or not, they are superimposing the concept of time onto/into an infinite and eternal Beingness where there is no time (and no space either for that matter). Apart from this, another lifetime might seem separate from this one for a few practical and advantageous reasons. First, one cannot generally remember what has happened in one’s prior performances on/in the physical plane. Due to strong karmic bonds and/or what Caroline Myss termed “sacred contracts,” souls often transition from the astral plane in clusters. For example, you might have had a previous type of relationship (e.g. protagonist) with a given soul and then, for the mutually agreed upon development of you both (and perhaps others as well), there could be an entirely different connection (e.g. antagonist) with that same soul. If these prior associations were all stored in our memory, it’s easy to see what a confusing and unworkable situation that would be! Second, if one recalled another lifetime (let alone many or, yikes, all of them), one would almost certainly not be able to handle the emotional overload of the remaining karmic energies at play, because of the related/unresolved desires, traumas, and fears. Consequently, instead of utilizing a temporal overlay, I figuratively point to reincarnation as different “acts” in/of/as the One Divine Play.
To illustrate connecting the dots experientially and not just theoretically, I’ve shared some personal accounts in Grace Happens (e.g. my already existing connection to my Guru, Paramhansa Yogananda from a previous life) and in Reflections of Consciousness (e.g. tracing the far-reaching, interconnected, and benevolent effects of various intuitional hits during this lifetime). I realize that in doing this, one must overlay the “arrow of time” (i.e. entropy) onto/into the Eternal Now, but this is one of Life’s apparent paradoxes: the nonveridical perception of time (and space) due to the nature of our body-mind apparatus when, ontically, there is no space-time. As a result of this apparent conundrum, I have always liked the invented portmanteau from the Conversations with God material that attempts to reconcile this: “sequentaneous.”
Circling back now to the matter at hand, during my latest and unexpected immersion into Thomas Merton this year, I was suddenly able to connect the dots that explain why he speaks so deeply to features of my humanity, as well as to my contemplative attitudinal stance.
Intersection #1: Solitude vs. Socializing
In the mirror of consciousness that the Universe has recently gifted me in the form of Thomas Merton, I saw that due to our personalities and spiritual inclinations, we have both been conflicted at times in a specific area of our respective journeys: the attempt to find harmony between the strong yearning for solitude – to the point of intensely wanting to be a hermit – and the love and enjoyment of people. I think it’s fair to say that hermits (and cloistered contemplatives in general) do provide certain types of service to the world, but in choosing such a radical path, one needs to be extremely clear about one’s motivation(s) for doing so. On this Merton observed:
It will be ironical, indeed, if the exterior self [ego] seizes upon something … and slyly manipulates it as if to take possession of some inner contemplative secret, imagining that this manipulation can somehow lead to the emergence of an inner self [the Buddha Nature of the Self]. The inner self is precisely that self which cannot be tricked or manipulated … and comes out only when all is perfectly peaceful, in silence … untroubled and alone.
Sad is the case of that exterior self that imagines [itself a] contemplative and seeks to achieve contemplation as the fruit of planned effort and of spiritual ambition. [It] will assume varied attitudes, meditate on the inner significance of [its] own postures, and try to fabricate … a contemplative identity: and all the while there is nobody [no-thing] there. There is only an illusory, fictional “I” which seeks itself, struggles to create itself out of nothing, maintained … by its own compulsion and the prisoner of [its] private illusion. The call to contemplation [in/as a householder, monastic, or the eremitical life of a hermit] is not, and cannot, be addressed to such an “I.”
As much as I wanted to be a hermit at times during my pre-awakening years, I reminded myself that if it were meant to be, it would manifest, and that because The Universe wasn’t cooperating, this wish was egoic and hence one of the many forms of spiritual bypassing. Despite this desire, like Merton, I loved being sociable and enjoyed the energy that went with it. This was blatantly obvious, as my chosen career in the hospitality industry required me to constantly be around people. So, I did my best to practice three things: 1) Be in the world but not of it, 2) Maintain as much simplicity as possible in all areas of my life, and 3) When outside of work, my home was my cave. In several places that I lived (usually for no more than a couple of years, as I moved a lot for my profession), it was typically the case that no one ever set foot inside my home. I never socialized with my coworkers and used that much needed solitude to attend to the “inner self” Merton spoke of. It was this strict discipline that brought balance to my life, and one sees that Merton too used these methods in his own way. From my experience, I can endorse some variation of these themes to a would-be contemplative.
In full disclosure, the urge for complete solitude still sometimes arises. Make no mistake, I truly enjoy living where I am and supporting Eli’s teaching efforts to the extent that I can. I also have two published books, which help people based on the feedback I receive. If I want to support the books – and I do – then answering emails, doing the occasional interview, and meeting with those who visit me here is required and, as post-awakening Beingness means an intimate alignment with This Moment, these activities unfold joyfully and with sincere gratitude. My feeling is that if an actual opportunity to disappear from the world’s stage presented itself, I’d likely decline it, as I am so incredibly thankful that The Universe has provided me with a home and all that I could ask for. And yet…the idea of living in some small desert bungalow in full isolation, never to be seen or heard from again, does have genuine appeal.
Examining this more deeply, my sense is that one’s “desert cave” ultimately lies within, and that this type of energy that some of us feel in one way or another is God pulling us deeper into the Silence and Stillness of the Infinite, which is, of course a great blessing that doesn’t depend on one’s location or circumstances. Still, it’s a dichotomy that I suspect will never completely go away, just as it didn’t for Merton. In his 1966 book, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, he addressed this when he wrote “… one cannot live and die for himself alone. My life and death are not purely and simply my own business. I live by and for others.”
Intersection #2: Ecumenism
One of the first things I learned about Yogananda’s Self-Realization Fellowship was that it was built as a “Church of All Religions,” which resonated with me in a deep and vital way. For whatever reason(s), this modulation of consciousness known as Phil holds a profound respect for the world’s various religious, spiritual, and philosophical traditions. And while I naturally align with some much more than others, I regard them all as important vehicles for evolution that, on the surface, may seem very different. Nevertheless, at their core, I feel they share a common Perennial Truth: We Are All One in God. Regarding this, I wrote the following in Reflections of Consciousness:
By highlighting their essential truths … my hope is that this will engender an increased appreciation for the esoteric unity at the heart of our world’s great religions and thus foster more harmony between them, while at the same time remembering that the exoteric element importantly allows people of all capacities to worship the God of their understanding in a manner that works for them.
Due to his ongoing inner evolution and innate ecumenical proclivities (eventually blessed by the Second Vatican Council of 1962-65), Thomas Merton had the freedom to become one of the world’s leading promoters of interreligious dialogue. This began through his personal investigations, and subsequently he branched out into interfaith correspondences and meetings around the world. In his book, Divine Discontent, author John Moses wrote:
Merton consistently set his face against ecumenical endeavors, especially between the Christian churches, which were inherently bureaucratic. Friendship, spiritual freedom and spontaneity were the things that mattered. He protested instinctively against the individualism, the activism, of a Western Christian culture and he despaired of any suggestion of superiority: churches in relation to other churches, churches in relation to other world religions, churches in relation to the world.
It is a testament to both the breadth and depth of Merton’s interspiritual outreach that Fons Vitae, a non-profit, peer-reviewed publisher that specializes in Islamic and Sufic texts, created a nine-book series called the “Thomas Merton & World Religions Series.” This splendid collection thoroughly documents his immersions into Buddhism, Confucianism, Hesychasm, Hinduism, Indigenous Wisdom, Judaism, Protestantism, Sufism, and Taoism. In doing this, Moses observed:
… It may be that Merton was seeking a far wider interpretation of mystical theology, of contemplative prayer, than had previously been attempted. Eastern thought and Eastern monasticism became significant elements in his writing. He was a self-appointed go-between, enabling men and women of faith across the religious divides to learn something of each other’s traditions. He had come to see that Christian mysticism has no monopoly when it comes to the deepest promptings of the human spirit. He had found too much in the mystical traditions of Judaism, of Islam, of Hinduism, of Zen Buddhism, to confine himself exclusively to Christian insights. His approach to the East might have lacked the necessary rigor, but he brought an open mind and an open heart to his encounters. Jean Leclercq, with whom Merton corresponded over so many years, identified the one other all-important quality that was increasingly important in Merton’s ecumenical endeavors: “there was growing in him, more and more, a search for the essential which is love.”
Over the last five-plus years, I have spent a great deal of time delving into assorted spiritual traditions and teachers. This is not because I am trying to become some uber-erudite metaphysical dude, but for the simple reasons that: 1) I never fail to marvel at God’s multitudinous expressions of Truth, 2) They help me to better convey my own evolving Realization, and 3) This greater understanding and appreciation allows me to more easily connect with the seekers of Truth that I encounter along the way, to meet them where they are. In a word, I find all of this beautiful! The ecumenism that Merton and I both advocate(d) for is a big reason why he touches me so profoundly. About this, I’ll let Father Louis conclude this section: “If I insist on giving you my truth, and never stop to receive your truth in return, then there can be no truth between us.”
Intersection #3: Expressing and Honoring our Humanness
While the preceding two intersections between Merton and me are the most significant, there are others worth mentioning. First, there is the love of writing. I am hesitant to say this, as I’m just a guy who writes now and then, while Merton was a writer, and not only a prodigious writer but one who many consider(ed) to be the most important and influential Christian/Catholic author of the 20th century. While some of the topics he wrote about (e.g. social activism, which included the Vietnam war, the proliferation of nuclear weapons, and the civil rights movement) were sometimes at odds with both the censors and lay members of the Catholic Church, he continued to fearlessly write in a way that was relevant then and now. Second, we both could care less about appearing holy, or spiritual, or enlightened. My specific illustration of this may be funny/immaterial to some, or disturbing/unforgivable to others, but we both like(d) to “hit the sauce” now and then. For Merton, it wasn’t a good picnic at the lake without Budweiser, and I find the story about him not wanting to waste the leftover sacramental wine at seven in the morning during a farewell party before his trip to Asia hilarious. And just to be fair, the Trappists are up at 2am, so 7am is basically noon for the rest of us! While beer just gives me a headache nowadays, I am on record as being amenable to a glass of quality wine from time to time (Oregon Pinot Noir is a favorite), so if this bans Merton or me from someone’s Houses of the Holy, then so be it. Last, and most importantly, the search for God was the key objective we both share(d). I have written much on this, so I will let my Brother in God close this second blog post with the following statement:
… the inner self is simply a stepping stone to an awareness of God. Man is the image of God, and his inner self is a kind of mirror in which God not only sees Himself but reveals Himself to the “mirror” in which He is reflected. … All this is of course pure metaphor. It is a way of saying that our being somehow communicates directly with the Being of God, Who is “in us.” If we … find our true self, and then pass “beyond” the inner “I,” we sail forth into the immense darkness in which we confront the “I AM” of the Almighty.