Spiritual Profiling: Respect Between Equals

Chances are, if you preach at me, I won't listen. I'm not looking for a preacher. And since I'm talking about dialogic aspects of communication, when I flip that sentiment around, I can hardly expect someone else to listen if I'm going to be preachy. This fits with Lao Tzu's point in the Tao te Ching that there is no such thing as "moral high ground". Essentially, even if your position is right, but then you feel like you're better than someone else because of a position, you ruin the moral authority in the position by mixing what's right with your own hubris. Same goes for me.

At the same time, you're better than me at a lot of things, I'm sure. I don't even have to know who I'm talking to to know it's true. I may not already know what you're better at than I am, but if we get to know each other, we'll find things. Flip that around, and I can walk with a certain amount of humility-pride because I know I'm probably better at something than everyone I meet. It's not modesty or a put-on show. It's simultaneous pride in myself and in humanity as well as humility in knowing that, as another amazing human being, you must also be better than me at something. So there's no point in hubris but enough pride for everyone. Part of why that's important is that, since I know my own strength, I don't have to try to exploit your weaknesses so as to look comparatively good; I can just find the areas I excel in. Beyond that, if we can agree to communicate like reasonable adults, chances are that we'll actually be able to learn from each other and improve due to our relative strengths (and weaknesses).

All that is pretty simple, but it's also rare to find adults who actually want to interact with each other this way. We get all caught up in comparative status and trying to clutch some little pride that we often miss seeing the ways in which we can grow. When we only want to compete, then pointing out where others slip up is an attack. But if I can actually take any criticism as a chance to grow in some particular way that I need to, then there are no attacks beyond physical violence. We still might compete, debate, challenge one another--but there aren't any attacks per se.

Where I was raised, this was called "being the bigger man". As kids, we often tried to claim that we were bigger men than someone else. But as we came to understand this phrase better, we knew that it involved not acting like we were bigger. Somewhere around there, it started just seeming like being men. Since I also appreciate women who don't try to act like men, we can speak of acting like adults.

I may seem to have gone far afield from spirituality to anyone familiar with my general focus on formlessness and samadhi. Maybe that's a sign that I'm growing up still. I'm becoming more and more interested in the process of moving towards those peaks rather than simply focusing on conquering the mountain, so to speak. There is a riddle or teaching question asked by the Sufis: why does God make his saints to look like everyone else? The proposed answer is: so that you will treat everyone like saints. I've got to admit, I'm not there yet. But getting there fascinates me.

It's also been said that before you can walk, you have to learn to crawl. That seems to fit psychologically and spiritually. Wherever we start from, we first get moments of how we want to actually be, then the effort it takes to stay aware of wanting that, then the discipline of giving up our emotional reactivity in particular moments in order to be mature, and perhaps we eventually gain a certain willingness to roll with the punches without giving up on our aspirations.

Because of how our minds work, aspiration feeds our motivation to overcome adversity. Adversity gives us the psychological and spiritual pressure it takes to gain the strength it takes to be able to hold onto and communicate what we gain. "Only the tested can inspire the fearful." We all benefit from the wisdom and experience of those who have already fought the good fight. Those who made the ultimate sacrifice in their fight, as well as those who have lived to fight another day. Folks who have overcome adversity feed our aspiration. Anyone who has overcome adversity knows something about the strength of intention. Anyone who has faced adversity and temporarily lost could have some aspiration for improvement along with some experience to build from.

The reality of human life is that it all gets jumbled together. We can't separate out the moments we shine from those where we stumble. It's all me, all one. (If you feel otherwise, stick around, Grasshopper.) And yet, I love the Muslim focus on Judgement. Their idea, if I understand correctly, is that everyone will face God on their day of Judgement and every single thing they have ever done will be weighed and measured. All of what they have done correctly will be weighed against every single sin, and their actions, thoughts, and feelings will either lead them to God's grace or punishment.

It's very liberating to say that it's all one. And at the same time, I also know that every time I practice doing what I believe is right, it feeds that sense of rightness within me. Every single time--no matter how small or seemingly inconsequential--I feed my weakness and iniquity, it grows stronger within me. How other people act affects me, but they are judged in their own way. How I respond to them and affect them influences what I feed within myself. Perhaps there is some ultimate judgement on a given day, but I doubt it. It makes more sense to me to believe that this lifetime is my "day of Judgement". I already am punished by feeding the shit within my soul and spreading it around me. I already am rewarded by acting right and knowing when I do. Maybe it all comes to a metaphysical head, but whether it does or not, it's the same to me. (If you don't believe in judgment or karma, have some kids, and see where they are when they reach forty or so.) Because that is the case for myself, I am willing to learn to crawl if I must, but I'll be damned if I'll keep myself from learning to walk.

Being who I am, though, I may need some help along the way. I'm not looking for some guru to be God for me. Just as I'm not writing for those who want to be only beautiful and fragile, I'm also not writing for those who are looking for moral escape. They will get what they get. I'm looking to find others who want to improve and I'm looking to contribute what I can. I'm looking for others who feel the same, who feel equal in that aspiration.

While anyone can claim such a standpoint or motivation, communicating it needs some form, it needs to actually happen. The question I've been asking is: what is a good way for me to share what I know and can do? When I flip that question around, assuming I'll be communicating with spiritual equals, I ask: what is a good way for us to contribute what we can know and do with and for each other? The question takes that somewhat complex form because I will need something different than what anyone else needs. Sure, we all need love and support, food and air, etc., but if we are to recognize and uphold our individual potentials then we will need to find our different tastes of inspiration.