Archive for the ‘Intentions & Motivations’ category

running and tasting the wild, sweaty edge of the unknown

August 18th, 2010

I run for joy— yes. I run for better health— of course. I run to challenge myself— certainly. I run to get a break from the monotony of life— absolutely. In the end, I keep running for reasons that aren’t easy to explain in everyday conversation.

Way beyond simple joy is a wild sense of being alive and the throbbing vitality that comes from a good, hard run. Physical exertion gets the heart pumping and blood flowing. Running out in the open air is much more elemental and satisfying on a basic level, at least for me, than anything that can be created in a gym. Muscles twitch, breath heaves, heart thumps, sweat drips and my entire being surges forward over the terrain— be it asphalt, or preferably, a constantly shifting and undulating trail. In the wilderness trees fly by and focus is required so as to not make a wrong step and end up flat on my face.

There’s something deeply satisfying about running hard enough to make the lungs burn and the muscles twinge with pain when moving past one’s comfort zone. Running in the red is not sustainable, but if I don’t push to the edge now and then I don’t feel like I’m trying. Intensity is something I crave in running on occasion. I believe runs shouldn’t always be too controlled or measured with conservative heart rates and paces. We’ve got to tear after it now and then to know where that edge is, taste it— lick the sweat, and then settle back into a more manageable groove. Smart runners know when to rip it up and when to go easy. I’m still learning to achieve balance in training.

Racing brings me to the edge of control every time if I give it my all, but I most like chasing after the abyss when running solo—solo, but not alone. It’s way more than just me when I’m out there running my face off! None of us truly runs alone, just as nobody lives in a vacuum. If we’re trying to be alone, then perhaps something is off-kilter leading us to feel or want to feel this way. Fellow runners, we’re covering the miles together! That’s why we have wonderful support available from running clubs, community races, and dailymile!

My running is about much more than pushing limits and seeking anything pleasurable. There’s a wisdom of running that is beyond good and bad. The most valuable runs show their worth not in any physical sensation, but in what they teach us about life on a deeper level. Every time I run, if I’m paying attention, I’m continually getting schooled in impermanence. Life is exemplified by change. Running is change accelerated and magnified.

Continually passing scenery is accompanied by gradually changing physical feedback, thoughts and emotions. Most runs, especially the longer efforts, feature temporary feelings ranging from elation to doubt and drudgery. It’s all there, spiraling around the simple movements of the run itself. Fortunately I learned long ago that chasing only joy is a shallow pursuit and one that would likely result in me giving up running.

Running and the endurance developed also teach us about suffering. Through marathoning I’ve learned oodles about my capacity to endure difficulty. Being able to run long encourages me to persevere in other avenues of life when I’d otherwise want to throw in the towel. I’ve reminded myself time and again that I can keep going farther than I once thought I could.

What I’m after in running more than anything else is an embrace, through focused movement, of life in its most primal, vigorous sense. Life’s obligations and responsibilities will not stop my inner wildman, not as long as I can head out the door and RUN! I’m coming to think running is and will continue to flesh out all these lofty ideals, perhaps for much of the rest of my life. Or at least I’d like running to go on as long as I am able, as long as my body holds up and allows me to get outside and put one foot in front of the other at some pace faster than walking.

For running to be a lasting practice over many years, I’m learning patience is a huge key— one I easily forget. Patience and endurance are inextricably linked. It’s much too easy to get caught up in the desire to be something other than what I am now, to be faster or able to run farther than I’m currently able. What is that?

It’s shit, that’s what! It’s the ego taking a dump on whatever good sense I ever had, taking me away from life in its present reality. When I too often run harder than currently prepared for, I wear down and end up injured. Instead I hope to embrace what I am in this moment with a patient welcoming of the shift running is gradually bringing about in my very being.

And so I am going to keep on running. Yes, I am going to keep on running!

Let’s run our faces off! WOOHOO!

run-run-running

May 5th, 2010

Only 5 1/2 weeks left of training before the marathon— that’s 3 1/2 weeks of hard training before the 2 week taper. Everything is suddenly going really well and I feel great. About a week ago I was stricken with doubt and running angst after not allowing myself enough recovery time following the half marathon and diving into my first 40-mile week of the season. I learned my lesson there and backed off the following week, which was last week, giving my body the rest it needed. I was able to cap off last week with my first 20-miler of the season, which went surprisingly well.

There haven’t been many attempts at 20-miles or longer where I haven’t come up against an especially difficult struggle of sorts. Not this time though, I just kept my cool and cruised the whole way. Instead of pushing too hard until I was broken down and having to walk, I took a couple walking breaks early on to feed and rehydrate more relaxedly. I had a significant break after 14.5 miles, where I made myself a chia fresca and had a snack. Then I proceeded to crank out the last 5 1/2 in style, finishing strong and even seeking out some hills in the last mile. This was a very encouraging run, especially since my pace ended up being 9:17, which, for me, is cruising along at a decent clip over such a distance.

I have 2 more 20+ milers planned before the race. 22 in a week and a half and then another 20-ish a couple weeks after that. I’ll get those in me to top off my endurance stores. Speed work has been going well too.

Today I had a 7 1/2 miler that featured 6 tempo miles at 7:27/mile. That’s quite a bit faster than what my marathon goal pace will be, but it’s right at the edge of what’s “comfortably hard” (the recommended feel for tempo pace) for me right now. I don’t really know yet what my marathon goal pace should be, I’m having a hard time pinning that down since this will be my first mountainless, mostly flat marathon. My recent half marathon was done at 7:39/mile and in theory I should be able to get to the point with training to maintain that for a full. I do not think I have enough time to refine myself to be ready for that by 6/13. I’m thinking maybe even 9:00/mile is reasonable for this one as that’d still be a marathon PR by more than an hour. I really don’t know though, because comparing 26.2 rugged trail miles to a 26.2 road marathon is like comparing bananas to cheeseburgers.

Three and a half more weeks to push myself. I wish I had another couple months. June 13th seems to be coming my way very, very quickly. Oh well, bring it! There will be no attempts made to run away from time.

knowing and unknowing, faith and doubt

April 12th, 2010

Ever since I started to seriously consider my place in the world and to think seriously about life on a deeper level, I’ve been drawn to spiritual practice and genuine, heartfelt expressions of faith. I was brought up in the Catholic tradition and, for a complex tangle of reasons—including personal shortcomings and real issues with Catholicism itself—I turned away. In college I began to examine philosophy and ways of thinking and living completely devoid of religious practice.

It wasn’t long before I was drawn to Buddhism, especially Zen Buddhist practice, for in it I found wisdom and a way of living based on an embrace of life in the here and now without the added weight of cloudy divine guidance. In practicing Buddhism, I came to know and trust there are no easy answers to be found anywhere for life’s big questions and the essence of life will likely always be shrouded in mystery on some level. In practicing and living, in grappling with the very serious, yet ultimately acceptable, presence of personal suffering, I came to trust in a deeper peace beyond anything superficial or selfish. In time I even began to see that my previous issues with Christianity were as much about my own immature expectations and understanding as they were about any genuine problems with the teaching itself. Out of a strong desire for reconciliation between my spiritual upbringing and a wish to understand the religion that surrounds me in this society, I began to explore Christianity again.

Through the help of patient and loving friends and Christian writers like Rob Bell and Thomas Merton who speak to my Buddhist-enhanced understanding, I began to see the depth of wisdom inherent in Christianity. It was in practicing Buddhism that I eventually realized how shut-off I had become to many Christian ways of thinking and in time reopen myself to those ideas. It hasn’t always been easy over the last few years to set aside my strong disgust with those I think are acting as the worst examples of Christian faith.

Groups that shout the loudest, often through bullhorns, and sicken me the most are hard to look beyond sometimes. It’s the repulsively fundamental groups that would rather beat us over the head for our sins in the hopes that we’ll repent instead of approach our inadequacies with loving-kindness that I’ve often been stuck on. Yet, in the end, I knew this corruption of faith was not the heart of Christianity.

I’ve been determined to seek and understand the loving heart of Christianity I sensed and hoped was there. An undeniable truth wells up from deep within me that says our world needs love and compassion far more than condemnation. A strong belief in the need to help others lovingly and peaceably has been my compass in guiding me through the often murky waters of faith for quite awhile. I know in my heart that I’ve gone astray when surrounded by people who think they are the keepers of the one true way and are in some way superior to outsiders. Fortunately, I’ve managed to find more loving, intelligent, supportive Christians than the abhorrent kind. For this I am grateful.

Along with a far-away friend, I began reading the Bible for myself about a year and a half ago. I was surprised and encouraged to see how readable it is, but at the same time I’ve been challenged and perplexed by much of what I’ve encountered, especially in various Old Testament books. I quickly realized how inadequate my understanding is of the early Judaism out of which these writings arose. For me, a sense of time and place is necessary in better understanding these books. I do hope to learn more about the culture, history, and even the language of these ancient people. Judaism’s ethos and its related teachings cannot be wholly separated and time-warped into today’s world without some modification.

Even though I can appreciate the idea of divine inspiration for the writers of these books, I cannot see these words as the completely infallible word of God. How could I accept what I pick up and read in the Bible as inerrant when I acknowledge how human hands have shaped and reshaped what is today’s Christian Bible? Translation and interpretation have been necessary components of keeping the Christian Bible relevant. A great deal of trust and faith in those Christians that have come before me is necessary if I am going to really appreciate the teachings of the Bible.

I see no problem in keeping all the faculties of my mind in play in making sense of God’s word as handed down—and molded— by generation after generation. I refuse to turn off my brain and just accept on some sort of blind faith that the Bible is God’s final and unequivocal word to be taken literally and without consideration, because, well, I do think God is still speaking to us. For me, written truth does not trump observable, real-world truth as revealed in nature or in everyday life itself.

Not long after taking up the semi-regular practice of Bible reading I began to realize that much of it did speak to me. A growing fondness for the Christian story began to develop and I was coming to see and understand Jesus like never before. Much of this is still in the works and I suppose that will always be the case as long as I am serious about the practice of Christianity. I also came to see that any sort of worthwhile Christian cannot exist in a vacuum. I wasn’t entirely in a vacuum as I had one very helpful far-away friend and a few others here and there who I could discuss such matters with, but I have not had a real-life, local community of Christians to share and worship with in a long time. So I understood the need for community, for church. I had taken up the reading of the Bible and even began to pray and attempt to explicitly commune with God on occasion, but I was lacking a person-to-person connection in my developing faith.

Despite my doubts and remaining confusion regarding Christianity, I started to look for a church I could handle. I hadn’t gone to any church regularly since I was a teenager and was obligated to do so by my parents. In my initial search online I found the UCC (United Church of Christ) and their local church, Peace United Church of Christ. In examining the UCC website I was immediately attracted to their emphasis on the positive and healing aspects of the Christian teaching, especially the good news of the love God has for everyone. The whole message was wrapped in a welcoming, open to anyone package. Their method of worship was supposedly guided by scripture, yet serious thinking and continual reexamination of faith was part of their practice. It all looked wonderful on the screen and so I decided to check the local church out in person.

Sarah and I visited Peace United for the first time at the end of January and were immediately welcomed and introduced to the church by warm, friendly people. Actually, even before walking in the door I was impressed by a sign hanging outside that read “Our faith is over 2000 years old, our thinking is not!” Yes, that’s the type of Christian approach I was hoping to find! The place felt right, as right as Christianity has felt for me in a building in a long time. The service was familiar to my Catholic background, yet not as bogged down with ritual. The hymns were traditional, beautifully backed by organ and choir, albeit difficult for a non-singer like myself to keep up with— yet I have fun trying to sing. We’ve attended services there a number of times since that first Sunday and each time I’ve been impressed with the pastor’s sermons and the relevance of his messages to this life, messages that are culled from the same Scriptures I am now grappling with. I’ve been continually encouraged by the warm, genuinely faithful people that I’ve encountered at the church and I can see myself looking to them for support.

My original idea in looking for a church had me visiting several, but after going to Peace United over the last few months, I no longer think it’s necessary. If I’ve found a church home on the first try, why keep looking? This could be it.

I still struggle with Christianity. I am not beyond doubt. I have difficulty with probably a lot of the same ideas countless other people have had, I don’t think I’m special. Yet it’s all quite confounding sometimes and nearly paralyzing. How do I know in my heart that an actual practice of what’s become Christianity is what God wants for me? How is God even speaking to me in my life now? I’m trying to listen, are my ears not working properly? Why can’t he give me a clear shout out like so many times in the stories of the Old Testament. I know that’s a bit selfish and perhaps immature to wish for, but…

Problem is, Christianity insists there is an all-knowing, all-seeing creative God behind everything. And yet we sit here as human beings separated from him by what seems like an impossibly large gulf at times. Our faith is supposed to bridge that gap, but is Christianity as it has come to me now what God really has in mind for us in living a realized life in this world? Seems to me we as human beings still have a lot of work to do in that regard, in making Christianity what it needs to be.

I am trying to open myself to God, often not really knowing how. In getting back to prayer, even prayers of petition which I’ve often struggled with, I’ve taken to asking God for understanding as it’s begun to make sense to me that I should use the voice I have to ask for help. Sure, an all-knowing God would know my heart’s desire, but who am I to expect him to do the work of reading my mind? Am I so lazy and self-centered that I can’t call out to him? I don’t want to be. I am asking you, dear God, for your help in clarifying my way forward.

I have no problem believing and trusting in a creative force/being that is at the source of all existence. When I look at the world and its tendency towards chaos and destruction I also see and am greatly encouraged by our capacity for love and the undeniable ability we have to awaken to truth on a deeper level. Our willingness to love each other despite all the ugliness that comes with being alive in this world is profound and incredibly awe-inspiring to me. Yet I struggle envisioning God through a human conceptual framework. Seems to me God has to be so much larger than anything my mind can even begin to comprehend or even as often described in the Bible. Sure, I understand the idea of being made in his image, but still, that’s just an image of his ineffable nature.

So God sent Jesus as the ultimate sacrificial expression of love to ultimately bring his misguided world of creative beings back into line with his true way. It’s all so heavy and complex, so layered and nuanced, so mysterious and mind-boggling. Yet the more I learn about the Christian story and the life of Jesus, the more intrigued and even grateful I become. It’s quite a story! I’ve never failed to be inspired by the life of Jesus. It’s what’s often come after Jesus and supposedly in his name that’s bothered me. When I remind myself that everything labeled as “Christian” isn’t necessarily connected to God then I am able go on with less hesitancy.

I am trying to learn how to have a real relationship with Jesus, how to model my life after his and in a way make his life my own. Yet, what character in the history of the world is as massive and has bigger sandals to fill than Jesus!? He’s the so-called Son of God for crying out loud! And yet I can see how we’re all sons of God. Hello, Jesus, I want to know you. Please help me to be like you too. Furthermore, I’m a pragmatist and feel that as long as I’m a human being I’ll be somewhat constrained by my humanness. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try for the seemingly impossible, right?

All this thinking of God and what it means for me now to live a life in pursuit of his way does not have to be contrary to present reality. Good thing, because if what God was asking me for was contrary to life in a real sense then I’d have to ask, “What gives, God?” I mean, the God of the Bible asks for our deepest commitment, but as of yet he hasn’t asked me to strip naked and run down the street singing “Hallelujah”. Nor have I been called to lash out at sinners and demand their repentance. Picking up a bullhorn and blasting others or going clinically bonkers are not in the cards for me.

Ultimate reality remains in balance with ordinary, everyday life despite our feeling of dissatisfaction. Regardless my wish to know the mind of God and to understand the deepest truths of existence, life goes on as it is, just as it is— as ordinary and profound as ever before. Mundane and scared are two sides of the same unified reality.

I will continue to rake leaves and prepare food, the need to pay attention to everyday activity will not go away in this life. Despite our obligations there is freedom and comfort in knowing all is as it should be, momentarily balanced on the head of pin in this time and place on the way to something entirely new in the next. The hard work of taking care of our lives and each other goes on without an end in sight. There will always be more to do and yet we can be filled with the trust available to us from the great unknown. This is the tenuous and wondrous life of a human being!

Recently at Peace United the opportunity has come up to become a member of the church. I think in writing and thinking about all this today I have decided to become a member, although I will continue to think and pray on it for a couple more days. I am definitely pleased with all I’ve experienced at the church and I know that if I am going to deepen my Christian understanding and faith, I have to continue forward with the help of others in that faith. All the questions that beset me now will not be answered today, but in time with God’s grace and the love and support available to me at church and elsewhere, perhaps my way will be clarified. Maybe one day I will really know what it means to be a disciple of Christ.

Patience

March 8th, 2010

I like to consider myself a patient person. For the record, I’m not so much.

Even desire for healthy outcomes when pursued without patience becomes unhealthy activity. For instance, there is overtraining in an attempt to run farther and faster than my body is ready for. Overtraining comes as a result of a sense of inadequacy and a desire to improve hurriedly. Sheer will and determination can get us through a lot, but stubbornly pushing one’s body farther than it is ready for leads to injury. My still aching left foot is a testament to this fact. Right now it’s not bad enough to stop me from running, but it’s not healed enough to allow me to run as far as I’d like either. An ultramarathoner is certainly not made overnight.

There is impatience with understanding and life itself. The call from deep within my guts to deeply understand my place in this existence of ours is true and undeniable. Frazzled seeking and half-hearted commitment to the truth right before me is no way to deepen any understanding I have.

To live in the Great Way
is neither easy nor difficult,
but those with limited views
are fearful and irresolute;
the faster they hurry, the slower they go,
and clinging cannot be limited;
even to be attached to the idea of enlightenment
is to go astray.
Just let things be in their own way
and there will be neither coming nor going.

Obey the nature of things,
and you will walk freely and undisturbed.
When thought is in bondage, the truth is hidden,
for everything is murky and unclear,
and the burdensome practice of judging
brings annoyance and weariness.
What benefit can be derived from distinctions
and separations?

(From Verses on the Faith Mind by Seng-Ts’An)

The Great Way requires incredible patience and confidence which I sometimes lack. Here I am, currently sore and exhausted, feeling rather beaten down and inadequate. And so what!? Those thoughts and lackluster feelings can go just as easily as they’ve come to me lately.

Alright, here I am now, trying to let all that go…

In the end I run because I enjoy running— I thrive on the invigorating sense of freedom that comes when out there hitting my stride and watching the world go by. Sometimes that sense of wildly pleasurable peace in motion comes at a relaxed 10-minutes per mile, other times it comes when I’m pushing so hard my breathing is maxed and all I can do is focus on each strained stride. I’m inspired by ultramarathoners who cover remarkable distances in absurd times, yet I’m so far from any of that. What I am now is a guy running along here in the upper midwest on a regular basis trying to be content while steadily challenging myself to keep going.

All this running and the energy it uses up can be rather selfish, but I’m hoping it’s not in the end. I’m looking for myself out there when I run and test my limits. I’m learning about my capacity to endure suffering and am continually grateful for the opportunity to be running around like a happy fool. I’m planning on making this into more of an activity for others in time.

As long as I’m able, I’ll keep running and will turn it into something more than selfishness and impatience. I’m trying to settle into my life with running. I’m not trying to escape. I want to develop the courage to embrace my life as it is, I really do.

spring is imminent!

March 2nd, 2010

This morning I installed a pull-up bar in the house so that I can grow wings and glide along with ease and joy while running through the trails and open prairies of the upper midwest. Warmer temps are here— lately it’s been getting into the 30s everyday and today it might hit 40. I am incredibly excited about running on the thawed surface of trails again soon. Actually, two days ago when out for a 10-mile run (first double digit mileage since 11/22 when I ran around the lake) some of the mud was beginning to appear on one of the dirt roads I was tearing along on. This was only my second run in my Inov-8 Roclite 295‘s and I have to say, they’re quickly becoming my favourite (they’re made in the UK after all) pair of running shoes ever.

The tread on these bad boys is a bit overkill for pavement, but it works and handles every other surface I’ve been on so far with aplomb. Even on packed snow and ice I’ve had excellent traction— too bad I didn’t buy these a couple months ago. The shoe is quite light for a trail shoe (10.4 oz) and does not contain any unnecessary motion control components. The cushioning is more substantial than in my New Balance MT100’s, yet it’s not excessive and the shoes are still rather low-profile. I am continuing to adapt to a midfoot striking running style, so I am glad to have a shoe with decent cushioning since I still have some tenderness in the balls of my feet.

I’m starting to take Neko along with me on more runs too. Nothing too far yet since she’s not quite 7 months old, but last week she did 4 easy miles with me and didn’t show any signs of fatigue or soreness the next day. I probably won’t take her out for more than 5 miles for a few more months, but it’s encouraging to see how much she likes running. She’s less distracted by smells since she’s moving faster and she seems to like the pace of running more than walking slowly along. There’s so much more for her to learn and experience still, having a dog is great fun an adventure.

NOTE: As I was typing the above, Neko was bouncing around behind me chasing the rainbows (from the rainbow maker) that are dancing around the room. I turned around to find that she pissed on the floor in her overexcited state, hence the edit. Come on, puppy!

Back to running…

My first race of the year is probably going to be the Earth Day Half Marathon here in St. Cloud on 4/17. Being this far along in my running already, I think it’s realistic to consider doing two marathons this year. I’m trying to figure out which ones and where. I’d really like to make it up to Fairbanks for the Equinox, but that might not be a good idea since we have a wedding to attend in Texas shortly after that race. I’m also going to be home in June around the time of the Lake Placid marathon, so that might fit into my plans. Otherwise, there’s several in Minnesota and Wisconsin, including some great trail marathons in northern Minnesota. I certainly have many options to consider.

running out the year

December 9th, 2009

I’ve been out running each of the last three days and today I had my first solid run in vile winter weather: -5 °F, with a wind chill of -10, lots of fresh snow drifting all over the place. I had my YakTrax on and all sorts of layers, so my traction was decent and I was almost balmy, except when running straight into the strongest gusts. Each step was more work than usual because of the fresh snow, but I still covered 5+ miles and ventured along the trail beside the creek. The run was refreshing and encouraging, proof positive that I can handle being active in an upper midwest winter. I got plenty of practice dealing with winter weather in Alaska and learned to layer (onion up!) sufficiently, but Fairbanks winter was usually calm. Serious wind during these months will be a much more common challenge here.

There are 22 days left in 2009. My goal is to run or ski on 19 of them (at least 4 miles per run), taking the 3 remaining Sundays off. My legs are feeling better than they have since moving— even my left hip and right hamstring are almost fully healed! Barring some new physical breakdown, I should be able to handle this. Then, come 2010, I’ll be in the groove and ready to continue busting rump outside through the winter. After that I’ll be prepared to increase my mileage and start marathon training in early spring. I’m thinking I might run 2 marathons next year.

Screw New Year’s resolutions, it starts now! Christmas cookies will not slow me down!

deepening my life

October 7th, 2008

Sarah and I are likely coming to a major change in our lives and this affords me the opportunity to rework the focus and structure of my own life in some ways. Probably we’ll be moving in a few months and that means I’ll be quitting my job. There’s much to be worked out still, but chances are we’ll be establishing a new home and she’ll be embarking on the next stage of her career.

I hope to continue working in the field of web development, but I also hope to get away from the rigid 8-5 office job structure imposed on me that has come with working for others over the past eight years. I’m tired of working for the man, so I’m going to give freelancing a go and see if I can do alright with a contract only, web-guy-for-hire business. I have no designs on making a lot of money or not having to work hard to keep the business going, but the thing is, I have very little desire anymore to have my career in web design/development be the center of my life. Even now, my job is only a limited part of what I am.

These 31+ years of life have shown me enough to sap what little ambition I ever had for pursuing society’s usual benchmarks for success. I know myself well enough by now to know the importance of regular spiritual practice to my well-being via an introspective, contemplative life. I’ve learned I am of much better service to the world when I’m in the midst of a consistent attempt to deepen my life and move beyond selfishness through the realistic and practical integration of meaningful spiritual practices.

Through Zen I’ve already been exposed to an incredible gift, a practice I’d be a fool to not continue to explore. The teachings of Zen Buddhism and the practice of zazen in particular have shown me in undeniable ways what it means to awaken to the profound reality that is right before us. I don’t yet know what’s available for Buddhist communities where we might be moving, but there’s likely a group I can connect with. If not, perhaps I’ll start a sitting group of my own in the way of the Soto Zen tradition I’m familiar with. In any case, I need a group to help me find additional structure and support.

An ongoing dialogue with a friend and the ideas of Thomas Merton, who I’ve read some of before, have recently shown me the vitality inherent in the Christian faith, especially among the contemplative, mystic traditions. I’m amazed how sometimes people seemingly come out of nowhere to give us just what we need. I’ve had an interest in interreligious dialogue for awhile, in finding connections among peoples and teachings. The kind, open sharing with said friend has shown me how beneficial such exchanges can be when held by the spirit of patience and a genuine attempt at understanding.

In sitting zazen again recently and reading Thomas Merton’s autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain, a lot has been percolating in the background of my mind. I feel I have a bit of a gift for helping people to realize connections and find meaning through a shared quest towards mutual understanding and in the wisdom traditions available to them. The desire to understand what this life is really about is a deep-rooted human wish, with tendrils of wisdom extending in many directions— through religious teachings and practices, philosophies, throughout the natural world, in the midst of our relationships, and in the ordinary activities of daily life. The interconnectedness of life has been readily apparent to me lately and is continually revealing itself in fascinating ways.

What will my life look like after moving? What am I going to do differently?

I don’t know exactly, but I intend to make it real and more of a focus. I plan to get serious about contemplative practice in a way that makes sense in my life while I am still able. In The Seven Storey Mountain Merton talked about how he moved from one selfish pursuit to another, restlessly attempting to assuage countless inconsolable worldly desires until finally he realized the futility of the life he was living. In his mid-twenties he began to do the work to make the changes in his life that cleared the way for him to live a life of faith, eventually entering a Trappist monastery where he flourished.

Here’s some of Merton’s thoughts on his pull towards faith before his conversion, at the end of a section where he shared his appreciation for William Blake, who had become a major inspiration for Merton and who was himself fond of Catholocism in his latter years:

As Blake worked himself into my system, I became more and more conscious of the necessity of a vital faith, and the total unreality and unsubstantiality of the dead, selfish rationalism which had been freezing my mind and will for the last seven years. By the time the summer was over, I was to become conscious of the fact that the only way to live was to live in a world that was charged with the presence and reality of God.

To say that, is to say a great deal: and I don’t want to say it in a way that conveys more than the truth. I will have to limit the statement by saying that it was still, for me, more an intellectual realization than anything else: and it had not yet struck down into the roots of my will. The life of the soul is not knowledge, it is love, since love is the act of the supreme faculty, the will, by which man is formally united to the final end of all his strivings—by which man becomes one with God.

There’s one more excerpt I want to share now, in which Merton was examining what a contemplative life is really about:

… Christ imprinted His own image upon Saint Francis in order to draw not some men, not a few privileged monks, but all truly spiritual men to the perfection of contemplation which is nothing else but the perfection of love. Once they have reached these heights they will draw others to them in their turn. So any man may be called at least de jure (by right), if not de facto (in reality), to become fused into one spirit with Christ in the furnace of contemplation and then go forth and cast upon the earth that same fire which Christ wills to see enkindled.

This means, in practice, that there is only one vocation. Whether you teach or live in the cloister or nurse the sick, whether you are in religion or out of it, married or single, no matter who you are or what you are, you are called to the summit of perfection: you are called to a deep interior life perhaps even to mystical prayer, and to pass the fruits of your contemplation on to others. And if you cannot do so by word, then by example.