We’re nearing the end of Ramadan, which means that for the past month I, along with hundreds of millions of others around the world, have been fasting sunup to sundown this month. This will be the ninth year I’ve observed Ramadan.
I don’t like to admit it, but I was complaining about Ramadan, and it sparked an exchange with @Gifthand and Alex Goodall on Twitter, about the difference between doing energy work versus spiritual practice. “Energy work” or “healing” or “processing” is when I take on something that I’m not liking in my life.
Of course, a huge part of the healing always includes accessing appreciation and acceptance for whatever it is that I was rejecting. And, it sometimes that shift of perspective also shifts whatever-it-is.
For instance, let’s just say that I have a bad habit of (verbally) fighting with my sweetie. Not liking it, I notice that right before we get into it, there’s some little panic button that gets triggered in me- I’m running on fight or flight. So, I work with that internal fight or flight trigger. Love eventually comes in, and suddenly I’m not fighting with my sweetie.
That’s Healing. It’s Not Spiritual Practice.
Spiritual practice, in my mind, is when I take conscious time to remember the Divine, usually with some ritual or activity that helps to focus attention. It could be sitting quietly, focusing my breath. It could be devotional prayer. It could be fasting every day for a month.
With spiritual practice, I need to remind myself regularly that I’m not looking for an immediate outcome. There is usually some nice ROI in terms of spaciousness, calm, connection. And sometimes there isn’t.
There are times I pray as deeply as I can access and I don’t feel anything. Other times I’m just going through the motions to keep a perfect score on my prayers.
Some would have me abandon my practices for something more alive in the moment, rather than just go through the motions, or to do something allegedly ineffective. I have a different opinion.
I’m creating a container in my being. And, not incidentally, in my business. It’s a container that can hold more and more peace and love, patience and compassion, strength and insight, connection and empathy. It comes through practice.
Not every time I practice are the angelic choirs going to show up as my back-up singers. (Still, it would be nice if it happened at least once.) Not every time am I going to merge with All-That-Is. Not every time am I going to feel peace.
Sometimes I pray and I feel grumpy. Sometimes I sit in Remembrance, and what comes up is more of my own stuff.
Sometimes those experiences tempt me to miss out on my spiritual practice. Sometimes those temptations are successful.
When the temptations are successful, I find that it feeds on itself. I’ll miss a prayer or a time of sitting, and another one, and then another one. And then I begin to feel it. Then I’m in the weeds. Deep weeds. Twelve-foot tall weeds full of 6-inch mosquitoes and other nasties.
And that’s why I cling to spiritual practice by my fingernails. Not because I’m seeking enlightenment. Not because I’m so goody-two-shoes spiritualist. It’s because I’m doomed if I don’t. Life is harder, more full of suffering.
But here’s my point: don’t mistake a healing process for spiritual practice. And by that I mean don’t expect too much of your spiritual practice. Drop expectations of help or outcome. The biggest effects are noticeable over time.
What I Find Helpful In a Spiritual Practice
That it has an external routine to it.
It means I don’t just do it whenever I feel like it, but there’s some external discipline that calls me to it. In Sufism we follow the Islamic prayer times, and I have a little desktop app that plays the call to prayer when it’s time. It interrupts my day, and doesn’t make me rely on my own sense of what I need, which can be way off.
Do you have a way to interrupt yourself and set a routine for practice?
That it has a devotional element to it.
For who I am, I resonate strongly with devotional practice. Devotional practice is worship, expressing love for Source. Something in my heart just loves expressing love, gratitude and awe for Creator.
How do you relate to the concept of worship and devotion?
That it has a reflective element to it.
My relationship to meditation is in creating an empty space to be able to see myself and what’s going on more clearly, against the backdrop of Source or Truth- at least as much of it as I can apparently perceive. In seeing myself more clearly, it becomes easier to let go and be washed of attachments as time goes by.
I have to admit, this is the part of my practice I struggle with the most, and that I find I have the least patience for. Perhaps I should spend more time with it, then.
How comfortable are you in self-reflection and quietness?
In business and life I find that delaying gratification, letting go of attachment to goals and outcomes, is what brings the most peace and connection. It also seems to help me discern pathways forward.
There are definite ROI in business for spiritual practice–I hold Heart of Business up as proof of that. But, I need to remind myself not to look for the ROI every day, because sometimes it’s just not visible.
I’m grateful for the practice of Ramadan, because at the end of the month my heart feels more… pure. Lighter. More open. Less cluttered. And I’m grateful that Ramadan is nearly over, because sometimes fasting just sucks and makes me grumpy.
I’m Curious
How do you relate to spiritual practice? How do you relate to doing things that don’t feel good in the moment, but have powerful effects over time?
13 Responses
I absolutely agree with you on these points, Mark. In the last couple of years, I have realized that the most important word in “spiritual practice” is, in fact, “practice.” You are preparing the ground for a more consistently obvious connection to the Divine (consistent and obvious being necessary modifiers in this case because the connection is always there, of course).
I’ll go through months where my prayers are golden – maybe no angelic choir, but a feeling of peace, happiness and an increasing intellectual understanding of Divinity and my relationship with it. But this will be punctuated with regular dips into the muck of the reality of human existence. We have this experience of separateness, and sometimes that’s just all I feel. Then all the creeping thoughts of, “Why am I doing this? Why don’t I just stop. Will it really matter if I miss just ONE little prayer?” And, just like you, if I give into that it’s a slippery slope down into my most ridiculous self. Then, I climb back out again. I guess that’s part of the practice thing, too.
As for healing? Well, on one level it requires the very same regular engagement. Not every acupuncture treatment is going to leave you feeling like you’re floating on the clouds. Sometimes herbs take many, many weeks of regular choking down in order to open what they are meant to open. As a healer, it’s the same for me. Not every treatment feels like I’ve called down Divine guidance on behalf of my patient. It takes practice, it takes regularity, it takes the calm determination of knowing that the connection is there regardless of what my little self “feels.”
One last thing – when you say, “Some would have me abandon my practices for something more alive in the moment, rather than just go through the motions, or to do something allegedly ineffective. I have a different opinion.” I really resonate with this. There are many people in my life who would have me turn away from my path because it doesn’t always work, or sometimes I complain about it, or sometimes they just don’t understand it and I’m not great at explaining it.
But I can’t think of anything more “alive in the moment” than demanding of myself that I regularly turn towards the Divine, say “I’m sorry, thank you and please.”
I can’t think of anything more joyful, inspirational , powerful than resisting that urge to do just what “feels right,” going against the flow of one’s habits and programming, for the sake of clearing out the noise, the cacophany. For then, in the grumpy quiet of another day of Ramadan, one may hear the small quiet voice in the dark.
I just always have to remind myself that most often, God talks in whispers – not in booming angelic chorus. May I be granted the skill to become quiet enough to hear those whispers.
.-= Eric Grey´s last blog ..Stripped to the bone =-.
Mark, over the years the distinction between healing and spiritual practice has blurred, for me. Whether I’m healing or praying or simply doing the dishes, I take myself and my life to God and offer it. Not asking for any outcome, just asking to be in God’s presence; for God’s presence to infuse everything.
An external practice, done consistently over a lifetime, becomes an internal rhythm as steady and ever-present as a heartbeat.
Devotion, self-reflection, healing, living, are all parts of a whole, an ongoing, evolving conversation with the Beloved.
Thank you for bringing the depth of this relationship to the forefront, in this post.
Much love, Hiro
.-= Hiro Boga´s last blog ..Refugees: Remembering 9/11 =-.
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My spiritual practice has “alive in the moment” expressions, as well as a recurring expression (sitting in gratitude with full sensory awareness in nature). I must say that I am finding great power and simple beauty in the Remembrance practice, and it is serving as a thirst-quenching and grounding touchstone throughout my day–offering connection with who I truly am in a way I hadn’t quite been able to reliably connect with before. For that I am oh so very grateful to you, Mark! With recurring practices (such as my nature practice and, hopefully, Remembrance!) I do find a deepening resonance is created, a sanctuary moment outside of space and time that layers with meaning and nuance and stillness the more I practice. I enjoy my “alive in the moment” improvisational expressions (spontaneous ceremonial weavings, improvised song, authentic movement, whatever) because they feel like “out in real life” gestures of the deeply-felt-but-something-beyond-words weaving I can connect with in Remembrance and in Nature awareness.
I’m so grateful to have discovered you and “Heart Of Business”. Just what I personally and in my business and spirit needed ….!
Blessings & Beauty,
Jane
Oh WOW! What a juicy, deep, confronting topic — and can I just say it’s kind of spooky that you’ve apparently been spying on the conversation I’ve been having in the privacy of my own head!?! =^)
My relationship with spiritual practice has been up and down. My heart longs for it, and sometimes my brain does, too, but much of the time my brain goes galloping off, chasing shiney things and chattering incessantly.
Sometimes I’ve just wanted to find peace and quiet inside my spiritual practice — like taking refuge from the world (and my head!). I guess that would be sort of like a healing.
Of course, that also means I’m trying to strike a bargain with the Divine: “God, I’ll give you some spiritual practice if you’ll give me some peace and quiet!”
There are other times when I “do” my spiritual practice and forget to bring my “being-ness”. That feels particularly empty.
But when I approach it as a time of devotion, without any thought of bargaining or “doing”, it’s a whole different experience. As you said, sometimes pleasant in the moment, sometimes not.
It comes down to faith, I guess; that’s how I interpret devotion — exercising my faith.
Thank you for the reminder about the devotional element.
.-= Kathy M.´s last blog ..Email Best Practices: Double vs. Single Opt-in =-.
Thank you all so much for such insights and musings on this topic. Reading them really enriched me!
And, Ramadan ended this weekend, so I’m eating and drinking again! I’m very happy. 🙂 It took me all weekend to even gain the strength and spaciousness to get back to you.
I’m still musing- I think there is a blurring, Hiro, between the idea of spiritual practice and healing. And, I still feel a different sense of intention. Perhaps the difference could be better described as the difference between prayers of supplication and prayers of gratitude. One is asking for help. The other is just being with what is.
I believe there is room for both. And, that those are different intentions to bring to the ever-present ineffable connection.
I’ve been meaning to read this post Mark. Glad I finally found a moment to!
I relate very well to the temptation of blowing off Remembrance. It often feels so ephemeral to me.
I think it will be enough to do a devotional reading.
My clue that I’m not connected is a feeling of emptiness and isolation. I used to attribute this to my introvert tendencies of not reaching out. But what it really is is my heart is yearning for connection.
And I appreciate how you wrote about this topic in your usual clear, straight forward manner. It’s very user friendly for someone like myself that has only a taste of Sufism and can find the depth of detail quickly overwhelming.
As always thank you for being my teacher!
Peace
Judy
Hi Mark!
I’ve never commented here, I’ve just been lurking. I did just write a post about spiritual practice that really had to do with the tipping point when it goes from you supporting a spiritual practice to you having a spiritual practice that supports you. I’ve been lucky enough to move to the latter. I’m interested in the synchronicity of this topic coming up in so many places.
You can find my related post at: http://sandy.serveblog.net/Sandy/post/Finding-the-Tipping-Point.aspx
@Judy- yes! I’m glad you’re here in the circle, too. It’s such an interesting connection to get beyond introvert to realizing it’s your heart.
@Sandy- I’m glad you’ve been lurking! Lurking is a good thing. And I’m glad you spoke up- nice synchronicity.
I read your post, and I’ve noticed for myself that it doesn’t stick. Meaning, I’ll make it to that tipping point and it will last for awhile on a plateau… and then it will switch again. It’s a curious dynamic.
Hi Mark,
And a belated Eid Mubarak! 😀
I find the topic of spiritual practice (i.e. religious rituals) very interesting. The popular opinion (amongst Muslims, especially) is that they are meant to be performed, no matter what their outcome is. They are acts of submission. Of accepting God’s commandments, regardless of how we perceive them or what benefit we expect to gain from them.
There are many Muslims who accept that there must be a benefit behind these rituals, but that we do not have to be aware of this benefit (we will experience it with our observance, like eating healthy food). Others consider the act of submission to be the benefit itself. If you obey God’s commandment – regardless of the commandment itself – then you are benefiting, because you are submitting your will in the presence of God’s will.
I personally believe that spiritual practices have elements that will benefit us, regardless of our conscious awareness, and elements that will only benefit us if we are consciously aware of them. If we are not aware of the meaning behind the symbolism in religious rituals, then we won’t experience their benefits. We would be upholding shallow observances that lack the spirit they were intended to cherish.
There is a beautiful narration (known as the Narrative – i.e. hadith – of Shibli) where a companion of Imam al-Sadiq, known as Shibli, told the Imam that he had just performed the Islamic pilgrimage (hajj). The Imam asked him about the rituals he performed and whether he was aware of the meaning behind each ritual. The Imam’s companion admitted that he was not aware of the meanings behind the rituals, to which the Imam replied: “Then you have not performed the rituals… and you did not perform the hajj.”
.-= Haider´s last blog ..Playing the Part =-.
hello Haider- and Eid Karim back to you, belated. 🙂 Thank you for that narration and perspective. it does take a real intention and consciousness, in my experience, to really drink in what’s available from spiritual practice.
Wishing all…..the Muslims Around the world, Ed Mubarak…&^^$%$&*$