journal – Breathing Room

Years ago, as a seeker, I renewed my high school interest in Eastern Religion. This led me to books, such as Sidhartha, and the Dhammapada. I also read the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and a smorgasbord of others, inclusive of Zen Buddhism and neo-shamanism.

Yet, I only briefly mentioned my New Age past in a blogpost at Words Give Life, within the context of how I transcended that phase of my life. I transitioned to the Judaism of my upbringing through a book on Jewish mysticism by Gershom Sholem, called Trends in Jewish Mysticism; within its pages, I read about all of the concepts that I was familiar with from my eastern religious exploration, yet, in terms of Jewish belief and practice.

The Jewish version reached into my soul, and permeated my understanding even moreso than the eastern religious precepts. Rather than view these Jewish teachings as one more set of truths under the sun, I reclaimed them as my own. After all, even in partaking of an actual smorgasbord of food at a dinner party, restaurant or reception, one has to make a selection.

Interestingly enough, the Dalai Lama advocated in one of his book’s to follow one path; for himself, he was not concerned with pointing out that one path to others, rather, simply that instead of following many roads at once, within a syncretic blend of religion and spirituality, he was saying chose one, for the sake of integrity and a comprehensive understanding from a particular framework.

This is akin to an adage spoken by a great karate sensei, who recently passed away, “you can be a jack-of-all-trades or a master of one.” Some people in the martial arts cross train; however, to gain the skills learned from one martial art is to slowly acquire a more comprehensive understanding.

Perhaps, in religion it is the same; and, so that claim would discount the perennial philosophy and reductionism of any syncretic religious mish-mash of belief and practice, such as is proffered by the New Age Movement: to mix and match, according to one’s own particular practice that is individually formed and suited according to a subjective leaning toward whatever one is drawn.

For myself, this had only left me feeling incomplete, as well as, in retrospect, unable to transcend my own limited and disparate views. True religion has an objective quality that acknowledges a higher power, i.e., G-d above the individual, yet, also capable of being present with the individual. The confusion of the new age movement is to identify self with G-d, a concept that is untenable if exposed to rational critique. When I wear my yarmulke (small religious hat) on my head every day, this serves in part as a reminder of humility toward G-d Who is above me.

He is both transcendent as well as immanent according to the philosophy of Judaism. Yet, within the New Age Movement G-d is primarily viewed as immanent, which, theologically, tends to leave New Agers in a state of vacuous moral predicament, if there is not absolute divine authority to look toward for guidance, and a set of values delineating right from wrong. Of course, I should speak for myself, noting that I was not informed by the various beliefs and practices I had obtained, of any strong moral principles; although, I now follow a traditional religious path with a clear moral framework. With that said, I hope that I have not offended anyone; my aim is to educate, raise awareness, and share my own personal story if I can be of any avail to others.

How far has my belief and practice taken me already; and, what additions or modifications do I need to make, in order to gain a more effectual understanding of myself in relationship to G-d and His commandments? I am asking these questions of myself: however, you may also ask yourself these questions or some variation thereof. It is not uncommon to be concerned with applying a gauge to one’s spiritual practice, or religious path along the way; in fact, it is recommended.

For myself, there is both a spiritual as well as a religious component to my path. Unless both the spiritual aspects and the religious structure, each somehow will reach down into the core of my being and continue to permeate my life in a beneficial way, then I would need to step back and make an assessment of my efforts. Perseverance is key; and I recognize that sometimes the path can seem more barren than other times. Yet, this is also to be expected.

In the past few days, I have been exploring the concept of acedia, invariably described as listlessness, boredom, and sloth, to name a few of its “characteristics.” In reading about acedia, it seems that much of what I am experiencing has already been framed in words that explain the malady so much better than I ever could. Moreover, one of the remedies is summed up in one word: “perseverance.”

Within the early years of the monastic tradition, whereof acedia is referred to as a spiritual plague of sorts, the monks were mostly confined to their cells, except for communal prayer and meals. Manual labor had not yet been introduced into the daily regimen. Acedia would plague the soul of the monk, making confinement to one’s cell during the day almost unbearable; so, they were always admonished not to leave their cell, except, for communal activities.

I imagine that within the monastic tradition, a monk leaving his cell, would be akin to going off the derech (path), G-d forbid, within the framework of Judaism. I realize that this is a rough comparison; however, the basic risk is letting go of one’s focus on G-d, in pursuit of other cisterns – sources of pleasure, entertainment, or intellectual curiosity. Rather, it is a narrow road to Olam Haba (the World to Come), where eternity awaits the faithful.