Spiritual Plateau

“To be alive this very second in whatever capacity is a miracle we often ignore.”

~Gunilla Norris, The Light of Evening: Meditations on Growing in Old Age, p. 5

On my sixty-first birthday, I was on a plane headed to Torino, Italy. On my seventieth birthday, I was in Spain (actually on the border between France and Spain), on the Camino to Santiago. Over those years, my commitment to, work toward, and progress in my own spiritual development had surpassed any other period of my life.  This occurred during the decade of my sixties.

That was unexpected.

The purpose of my trip to Italy, formally, was to teach two courses in Torino for the University Studies Abroad Consortium (USAC). Informally, my goal wasn’t much more than to experience Italy; to enjoy some time with my wife, Lana; and to shake off 35 years of day-in and day-out work for something similar – teaching, but quite different – living in a different country for an extended period of time.

I’ve written about my experience at La Sacra di San Michele, and how it changed my perspective and my spirit in a disruptive – good disruption – way.  And I’ve written over the years about the time I’ve spent in monasteries, developing my daily contemplative practices, and even co-authoring a book with Bryan Taylor called Coffee Talk, based on Thomas `a Kempis' book, The Imitation of Christ.

In that time, I’ve had some key learnings about my own spiritual formation. First, no matter how far I go, the further I see there is to go. There is no stopping point and there is a long way to go. A long way. Sure, one could stop, feel pretty good about one’s progress, and sit pat. About that time, something unloving, unacceptable, ungenuine, selfish, and/or mean-spirited pops out of one’s mouth. And then you know that the half mile you’ve gone is not even 1/26^th of the marathon of life you are running. There is always more to know, to do, to discern, to grow into and to grow out of. Why leave all that on the table? Or, more precisely, on the trail?

Second, and I’m just speaking for me, a good deal of the richness of this journey comes from learning about the ubiquity of the spirit. The spirituality of my life, yours, all the people and living things of the world, from every religion or political party or what have you, and indeed throughout the worlds and suns and infinity all around, exists. Tapping into that which already exists, being awake enough and still enough and present enough to experience it is the continuing opportunity I have. Loving life. In the present moment. Here. Now.

Finally, what we typically think of as success in this culture – going higher, achieving more, becoming wealthier, being recognized, rising above – just isn’t what I’ve come to value the most. Instead, I’m more interested in going deeper, experiencing more richly, and caring more deeply.

I think part of that is just the process of getting older, moving toward the next stage of life, becoming more comfortable with what I think is really important and discerning better the path towards what is most important. (Similar to, perhaps how Arthur C. Brooks talks about moving into the second half of life in his book, From Strength to Strength.)

Which brings me to my plateau. Instead of Zig Ziglar’s challenge to “See you at the Top”, my quest is to head to the depths. That includes deep space – and the vastness of everything – but essentially involves going deeper in all aspects of my life. The metaphorical plateau I find myself on is not on the climb to the top – heading up, but on the descent to the bottom - heading down. I have been asking myself lately, “Why am I stuck here?” It’s not a bad place, it’s just not the most meaningful space. There is more to learn, more to become.

The time on the Camino with my son Shane was like a rope ladder, giving me the experience and metaphor of pilgrimage (OK, that's two metaphors in one sentence....sigh...) as a way to take a step and then another step, deeper. The mystery of the abyss is that one never reaches the bottom. The mystery of vasting – that is, being present to the vastness of the universe and beyond – is that one never reaches the final inch or even the last parsec. 

There is always a step deeper, always a star that’s higher. How can folks go more deeply and more vastly at the same time?

Perhaps it’s by not going anywhere at all. Perhaps it’s just centering oneself where they are.

The plateau has been nice, a place to gather myself up. But there is more to do.

I realize that this essay has been all about me (talk about self-centered!).  Writing is, surely, one way I have - we all have - to learn more about what I think, and what I think I know and don't know.  But it's also indulgent, when writing for others. To let you know, I'll be writing about spiritual formation regularly over this next period of time, and not just about my own experiences or my own thinking but also drawing from people like Dallas Willard (Renovation of The Heart: Putting on the Character of Christ), Robert Atchley (Spirituality and Aging), Philip Sheldrake (Spirituality: A Brief History), and more.  I welcome your thoughts, suggestions for readings or topics on this journey we are all on, like it or not, of our spiritual formation over a lifetime.  More on that later.

Peace and blessings, friends. Buen Camino.