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I have often told my good friend Scott that we are both “seekers.” It seems we have spent most of our lives searching for… well, that’s a hard sentence to complete. In search of Truth? Enlightenment? God?
“Spiritual but not religious” (SBNR) is a phrase that gained popular usage as a way of saying that you self-identify as someone that has a hard time believing that an organized religion is the only or most valuable means of furthering your spiritual growth.
Though I was raised a Catholic, I parted ways in my late teens and explored a number of other religious seeker from Quakers to Buddhists and finally decided that there was no group that filled my needs or answered my questions.
SBNR became very “New Age” and got mixed in with “mind-body-spirit” and holistic movements such as tai chi, reiki, and yoga. They became groups to join and pay for memberships.
I was convinced that spirituality had more to do with the interior life of the individual than that of a group.
There actually was a group known as Seekers (also known as Legatine-Arians). They were an English Protestant dissenting group that emerged around the 1620s, inspired by three Legate brothers.
These Seekers considered all organized churches of their day corrupt. They were patient – waiting for God’s revelation. They were not an organized religious group in any way that would be recognized today. They were not a religious cult. It was an informal structure and localized. To be a “member” didn’t mean you couldn’t belong to another sect. Many Seekers were also Quakers.
But to me that doesn’t sound like “seeking.” To be a seeker, one needs to actively be in search of something, not waiting for revelation to come to you.
Seeking is not limited to religion and spirituality. It is a quest to know more about everything.
If you do an Internet search on just “in search of” books, you will find a very wide ranges of things being sought. From those in search of memory through the science of the mind, to those in search of Schrödinger’s cat in quantum physics.
I think I was a seeker from my earliest teen years. I definitely searched for answers to many questions in books. In novels that weren’t always considered to be about seeking (Siddhartha, Catcher in the Rye, The Grapes of Wrath, Slaughterhouse-Five), I found Seekers. I found books that were about seeking too – The Seven Storey Mountain, Dark Night of the Soul, The Wisdom of the Sufis, Carlos Castenada’s books and others.
College exposed me to many of these books, but it also brought me to other people who seemed to be on a similar path. It was a time of experimentation. We followed paths that seemed to hold new possibilities, including sexuality and drugs.
After college and as a young husband, I felt like there were other unexplored worlds contained in this one we believe we live in that I needed to first find and then examine.
During this time, In Search of… , a weekly television series appeared. It was devoted to mysterious phenomena. There had been three one-hour TV documentaries (In Search of Ancient Astronauts, In Search of Ancient Mysteries and The Outer Space Connection) that were narrated by by Rod Serling in the voice that had intrigued and frightened me in my younger years from his Twilight Zone.
Certainly, a lot of the 146 episodes of the series (hosted by Mr. Spock himself, Leonard Nimoy) were fringe science at best. Those ancient astronauts came from the book Chariots of the Gods by Erich von Däniken and though I never believed his theory, it certainly made me consider us being alone, or not alone, in the universe. It led me to seek out more about the Mayan culture and other mysteries.
The seeking certainly wasn’t restricted to religion or spirituality. The TV program shifted from UFOs, and the Loch Ness Monster to cults, the disappearances of cities (Atlantis, Roanoke Colony), ships (Mary Celeste) and people (Amelia Earhart, D. B. Cooper). Some of this was quite real, more like history than the paranormal.
I remember the show’s opening disclaimer and was able to find it online. It is pretty close to a seeker creed.
“This series presents information based in part on theory and conjecture. The producer’s purpose is to suggest some possible explanations, but not necessarily the only ones, to the mysteries we will examine.”
In college, I had a girlfriend who was deep into the occult and “strange worlds.” Many of the topics she exposed me to, I found out more about in the years to come. I found several books by Arthur C. Clarke that were not his sci-fi novels, but non-fiction collections about mysterious worlds and strange powers. I suspect that Clarke didn’t write the books, but was attached to the project. only the foreword but
When I started reading aloud the first Harry Potter book to my son, I was amused when we came upon a Seeker. It is a position in the wizarding sport of Quidditch. The one Seeker on a team has to find the Golden Snitch, and until the Seeker catches it, a game does not end. What is your Golden Snitch?
There is a song “The Seeker” written by Peter Townshend and performed by The Who. I hope that as a Seeker all my searching low and high won’t end as the song does – that I won’t get to get what I’m after till the day I die.
I’ve looked under chairs
I’ve looked under tables
I’ve tried to find the key
To fifty million fables
I asked Bobby Dylan
I asked The Beatles
I asked Timothy Leary
But he couldn’t help me either
They call me The Seeker
I’ve been searching low and high
I won’t get to get what I’m after
Till the day I die
Last week I walked a labyrinth.
In Greek mythology, the Labyrinth was an elaborate structure designed and built by Daedalus for King Minos. Its function was to hold the Minotaur eventually killed by the hero Theseus. Daedalus had so cunningly made the Labyrinth that he could barely escape his own labyrinth after he built it.
There has been a resurgence of interest in the labyrinth as a symbol and a revival in labyrinth building. The labyrinth is a model or metaphor for life.
Ancient labyrinths are believed to have been built to trap malevolent spirits. In medieval times, the labyrinth symbolized the difficult path to God. The center represented God and the entrance symbolized birth.
I have heard many versions of what the labyrinth represents and also how to walk it.
It can be seen as a symbolic pilgrimage. You walk the path to salvation or enlightenment. For those who could not travel to holy sites and lands, the labyrinth was a substitute.
You can find them in parks and at churches, monasteries and places of worship. Most are not very large or elaborately built. The last one I walked was painted on a church parking lot. But even in a painted one, you can lose track of direction and of the outside world, and it can quiet your mind.
Though there are many Christian uses for the labyrinth, it does not have to be a religious walk.
In the labyrinth, we don’t know where the path will take us. We don’t foresee the twists and turns ahead. There is one way in and one way out. (Though I have seen people get lost in them.) Eventually, if you continue, you will arrive at the center.
You meet others along the path. Sometimes you meet people face-to-face and step aside to let them pass. Some catch up to us and pass us, and we pass others along the way.
When you reach the center, you can rest, watch others, pray, stay a long time or leave quickly.
There are no rigid rules. At the church last week, I was told to ask God a question upon entering and then listen for an answer during the walk. When I walked a labyrinth in the woods a few years ago I was told to be open to a question emerging. Each time I came to the edge of the circle, I should pause and take note of the direction I was facing and focus on what question was in my mind at the moment, if any. The answer would come when I exited.
Though I have never found THE answer in a labyrinth, I have found answers there.
You may be able to locate one near you with this labyrinth locator website.
“When someone seeks, then it easily happens that his eyes see only the thing that he seeks, and he is able to find nothing, to take in nothing because he always thinks only about the thing he is seeking, because he has one goal, because he is obsessed with his goal.” – Siddhartha
I read Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse when I was a sophomore in high school. A good age to be a seeker. It is a small and simple story and has become a classic. You could read it in a day or a weekend, but I would suggest that you read it slower. Pause between chapters.Read in a quiet place. Perhaps you should read this book late at night or early in the morning or at the point that is not quite night or morning.
“I do not consider myself less ignorant than most people. I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books. I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me. My story is not a pleasant one; it is neither sweet nor harmonious, as invented stories are; it has the taste of nonsense and chaos, of madness and dreams — like the lives of all men who stop deceiving themselves.”
Siddhartha is set in India and in it we meet the Buddha. It is a novel about a young man, Siddhartha, who leaves his family to have a contemplative life. But that journey doesn’t work. He becomes restless again. He leaves that life and follows a life of the flesh. He gets a woman pregnant and has a son. His life bores him. He becomes sick of the lust and greed that surrounds him and yet has a hold on him.
At a river, he hears a unique sound that signals to him the true beginning of his life. This begins with suffering and rejection, but ultimately finds peace and wisdom.
“Seeking means: to have a goal; but finding means: to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal. You, O worthy one, are perhaps indeed a seeker, for in striving towards your goal, you do not see many things that are under your nose.”
My next Hesse book was Steppenwolf which seemed like the logical next book, although it is not at all a sequel. Hesse (1877-1962) was a Westerner attracted to the mysticism of Eastern thought. In Steppenwolf, the protagonist, Harry Haller, is a sad, lonely, reclusive intellectual. He feels sometimes that he is a wild primeval wolf. Like Siddhartha, he has trouble dealing with the good life he lives but also despises.
Rather than a river and a sound, Harry’s life changes when he meets a woman who is his opposite. Hermine is carefree and elusive. This second novel did not capture me as Siddhartha had done. Maybe this Westerner seemed too much like me.
“… there is no innocence and no singleness. Every created thing, even the simplest, is already guilty, already multiple. It has been thrown into the muddy stream of being and may never more swim back again to its source. The way to innocence, to the uncreated and to God leads on, not back to the wolf or to the child, but ever further into sin, ever deeper into human life. Nor will suicide really solve your problem […] You will, instead, embark on the longer and wearier and harder road of life. You will have to multiply many times your two-fold being and complicate your complexities still further. Instead of narrowing your world and simplifying your soul, you will have to absorb more and more of the world and at last take all of it up in your painfully expanded soul, if you are ever to find peace.”
Even though Hesse told me that “This is the road that Buddha and every great man has gone, whether consciously or not, insofar as fortune has favored his quest,” I much preferred to walk the road with Siddhartha.
For many years, I have been scribbling quotations in blank books. Nowadays, I often pass them on via the Internet. I have a number of them from Hesse and most are from Siddhartha. Here are a few for any seekers reading this post. Read and apply with caution.
Some of us think holding on makes us strong but sometimes it is letting go.
Often it is the most deserving people who cannot help loving those who destroy them.
I live in my dreams — that’s what you sense. Other people live in dreams, but not in their own.
That’s the difference. (from Demian)
You are willing to die, you coward, but not to live.”
It is not for me to judge another man’s life.
I must judge, I must choose, I must spurn, purely for myself. For myself, alone.
Each man had only one genuine vocation – to find the way to himself….His task was to discover his own destiny –
not an arbitrary one – and to live it out wholly and resolutely within himself.
Everything else was only a would-be existence, an attempt at evasion, a flight back to the ideals of the masses, conformity and fear of one’s own inwardness.
I have always been a great dreamer. In dreams I have always been more active than in my real life,
and these shadows sapped me of my health and energy.
Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart
and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell. (from Narcissus and Goldmund)
If I know what love is, it’s because of you.
He lost his Self a thousand times and for days on end he dwelt in non-being. But although the paths took him away from Self, in the end they always led back to it. Although Siddhartha fled from the Self a thousand times, dwelt in nothing, dwelt in animal and stone, the return was inevitable; the hour was inevitable when he would again find himself in sunshine or in moonlight, in shadow or in rain, and was again Self and Siddhartha, again felt the torment of the onerous life cycle.
The river is everywhere.
“In Franciscan (and true Christian) mysticism, there is no distinction between sacred and profane. All of the world is sacred for those who know how to see.”
I saw this quote in one of Richard Rohr‘s “daily meditations.” It is taken from his book, Eager to Love: The Alternative Way of Francis of Assisi.
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote, “The world is in truth a holy place.” He is a writer I initially investigated when I was in high school just because he was quoted in a John Updike novel. I think “holy” is a more “loaded” word than sacred, but the philosophy is very similar.
Teilhard’s was a French philosopher and Jesuit priest who was trained as a paleontologist and geologist. That intrigued me. He and took part in the discovery of Peking Man. I loved that mix of science and religion – two areas that more often argue and disagree.
He conceived the idea of the Omega Point. It is simply described (though it is not so simple) as the maximum level of complexity and consciousness towards which [he believed] the universe was evolving. He also helped develop Vladimir Vernadsky’s concept of Noosphere. (I wrote earlier about the Omega Point and Noosphere.)
Teilhard’s writings were censored by the Catholic Church during his lifetime because of his views on original sin, but attitudes have changed somewhat and he has been praised by Pope Benedict XVI.
Is there a way to follow a “religionless Christianity” or is that an oxymoron? If you see a division between the sacred and the profane (terrible term for it) worlds, then it is not possible.
The early religions focused on identifying sacred places, sacred time and even sacred actions. That leaves most of life “unsacred.”
Where you find God in most religions are the places and events that are largely controlled by the clergy. As Rohr say, this is probably partially related to “job security” – organized religion needs people to survive.
Another area of religion that interested me as a young person was mysticism, including Franciscan mysticism. My mother had a book in our house on the life of Saint Francis and I read it one summer. He saw no distinction between sacred and profane. I was immediately taken with the notion that the universe and all events are sacred. They all might be doorways to the divine, if you know how to see. This was not something the priests and nuns were telling me in religious classes.
I know that all of this still doesn’t work for religious people who don’t accept being “spiritual” as a way of life (even though a growing number of Americans report that as their religious affiliation).
It was a Lutheran mystic, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in the mid-2oth century who called this “religionless Christianity” as he saw people moving beyond the framework of religion to what they saw as a deeper but still Christian experience.
I would say that I see people moving even farther to a “religionless spirituality” that is unattached to any formal religion and may or may not be connected to any formal conception of God.
Do you sometimes feel the need to center yourself? If so, what does that mean?
It is a term I have encountered in a number of situations including meditation, including both in a religious and spiritual sense.
A plain old dictionary definition of “to center” would tell you it means to have something as a major concern or theme, as in “the book centers around how people interact with nature.” Synonyms include to focus, concentrate, pivot, hinge, or revolve.
We even use the scientific term “center of gravity” (or more accurately the center of mass) is that unique point where the weighted relative position of the distributed mass sums to zero. The body is balanced around the center.
If I asked you to be still, close your eyes and “find your center,” what would you do? Possibly you would become more conscious of your body, your breath and the tension in your muscles. Without any training, you would be meditating.
There are books that combine this centering concept with other less spiritual practices, as in Centering in Pottery, Poetry, and the Person.
When I first encountered meditation, through investigating Zen Buddhism, I was given the book Zen Flesh Zen Bones. It is a one volume collection of four original sources for Zen: Zen Stories, The Gateless Gate, Bulls, and Centering Together. That last book shows you that this concept of finding your center is a key part of Zen practice.
The book contains many centering practices and you can find many of them on websites too.
Some of these sources will remind you that “Zen is nothing new, neither is it anything old. Long before Buddha was born the search was on in India, as the present work shows. Long after man has forgotten such words as Zen and Buddha, satori and koan, China and Japan and America – still the search will go on, still Zen will be seen even in flower, and grass-blade, before the sun.”
If you have participated in a meditation class (or if you just watch a ten-minute meditation video online), the introductory portion is generally a kind of centering exercise.
If you move from spiritual to religious practice, you will encounter centering prayer. This is a method of silent prayer that is very contemplative. It is often described as prayer that is both a relationship with God and a discipline to foster that relationship.
Father Thomas Keating has been a key figure in the centering prayer movement since the 1970s. It is not a new practice and it has roots in Christian history. I took a life-changing religion and literature course in college that exposed me to the Desert Fathers and Mothers to The Cloud of Unknowing, St John of the Cross, and St Teresa of Avila.
Religious groups are careful not to allow centering prayer to cross over into a version of New-Age spirituality.
Many religions encourage a kind of “centering prayer.” Catholics are advised to meditate in some form daily — such as on the rosary, or on Scripture (lectio divina). This practice makes use of a “sacred word” which might sound similar to using a mantra to others.
Mantra (a Sanskrit word meaning a sacred utterance, word, or phrase) is believed by some to have psychological and spiritual power. A mantra may not even be syntactic nor have any literal meaning. The spiritual value of a mantra comes when it is made audible, visible or present in thought.
Earliest mantras were composed in Vedic times by Hindus in India, and those are at least 3000 years old. Now they are found in Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism and similar hymns or chants are found in Zoroastrianism, Taoism, Christianity and elsewhere.
Thomas Keating emphasizes that centering prayer is not an exercise in concentrating, or focusing one’s attention on something such as a mantra. Rather, it is concerned with intention and to “consent to God’s presence and action during the time of prayer.”
Centering prayer is not meant to replace other kinds of prayer. It is the opening of your whole being. I the sense of prayer, opening to God, but in other spiritual practices it might be opening to the Ultimate Mystery, a life force, energy or the universe.
Keating is a monk in the Cistercian Order in the Benedictine tradition. He has written many books, including the best-selling Open Mind, Open Heart. He lives at St. Benedict’s Monastery in Snowmass, Colorado where he established a program of 10-Day Centering Prayer retreats, which are now held world-wide.
I’m not sure he would be happy with the definition that Centering Prayer is a form of “Christian” transcendental meditation, but he has presented the Centering Prayer method and its related mystical theology to workshops of non-Christians. He has also used it as a kind of therapy and has written a book on centering prayer and the twelve steps.
I used to teach classes in using a map and compass. One of the first things you teach in the field is orienting a map. You position it so that North is actually pointing north. When you orient a map and know where you are on the map, you can look in a certain direction and see a real landmark and find it on the map. You find your place in the world. For me, it always felt like a kind of centering.
I also like the idea of using triangulation. That is the process of pinpointing the location of something by taking bearings to it from two remote points and find where the lines intersect on a map. Without knowing where you are, you find your place by looking at your relationship to known things.
If you knew how to use it,
then starting anywhere,
turning any direction,
you could check,
find your bearings,
tell where you came from,
know where you were going.
If you knew when you entered these woods
where you wanted to be
at the end of this journey,
it would have taken you there.
If you knew how to use it.
If you knew when you entered.
If you knew where you wanted to be.