In the summer following my graduation
from high school, I spent six weeks at Pendle
Hill, a Quaker center near Philadelphia. Pendle Hill gave me a
holistic education. I developed a practice of exercise, and to notice
how my body responded to different kinds of food and activities. I
participated in extended periods of silent worship, and I began a
regular practice of journaling, which I continue to this day. I
learned to look beyond surface-level facts and see what was happening
at a deeper level.
Beginning that summer and continuing
over the next couple of years, I became increasingly self-aware. I
came to realize that neither my emotions, nor my body, nor my
conscious mind were all of who I was. At first, I experienced this
realization as a distressing sense of disconnection. If my body was
not who I was, nor my emotions, nor my mind, then who was I?
Eventually, I became aware of a part of
myself that was neither mind, body nor emotion. Physically, I
experienced it as being centered in my breath. It felt like a hollow,
receptive place where there was both emptiness and fullness.
Inexplicably, in the emptiness of my breath, I identified the core of
who I really was. Strangest of all, I developed a capacity to be
aware of myself almost like an outside observer.
I took note of the signals my body was
sending me, but I chose how to respond from the center. I experienced
emotions flooding over me - but my awareness ran deeper than the
emotions, and I could decide how to react. I studied my thought
patterns with interest, realizing that even my own ideas were just
like the signals that came from body and emotions: important, worth
paying attention to, but not defining me.
I still remember my surprise upon
discovering this hidden center within myself. Because it seemed
empty, my first reaction was to wonder whether "I"
really existed at all! If there was nothing there at my core, then
who was I? I struggled here for a long time. In college, I drifted
away from Christian faith, eventually becoming philosophically
pantheist and
politically anarchist.
Yet, I was still wrestling deeply with issues of truth and meaning.
At the heart of those struggles, the most fundamental question
continued to be: "Who am I, really?"
It was with this budding awareness of
my interior landscape and my deep thirst for truth and meaning, that
I graduated from college in the spring of 2004. I became an intern at
the Casa de los Amigos,
a Quaker center in Mexico City. There, I had the opportunity to study
Quakerism in depth and to participate in silent worship with a local
Quaker congregation.
In the silence, my interior awareness
exploded. In Quaker worship, there was nothing for me to do except
attend to the holy
center. I waited in the empty space within my breath until I
discovered that it was not empty at all. There was something alive
and moving in the midst, something that came from beyond me and was
far greater than anything I could imagine. As I waited in stillness,
I discovered that the God I had looked for everywhere else was here,
waiting for me, in the core of my being. In the darkness, there was
Light; in the emptiness, infinite Substance. And this Substance was
teaching me! It showed me the truth about myself, revealing the
places in my body, mind and emotions that were broken. From the
inside out, this miraculous Presence began to heal and transform me.
Experience has also taught me that this
inward Holiness will not be confined to the innermost sanctuary. This
Life and Power is like a fountain springing up within me. It fills my
spirit, mind, emotions and body, transforming and uniting all of them
in their common Source. Amazingly, I am learning that I am called to
be so filled with Christ's Spirit that I am remade in his likeness.
As that empty space within me is filled, my most profound identity
becomes the
very person of Jesus, and I myself become a
child of God, co-heir to the promise.
Perhaps I am speaking in terms that
seem mysterious. It is true, these realities are mysterious! Human
words stumble in expressing their depths. Yet, ultimately, these
things are not to be explained, they are to be lived into.
Furthermore, the experiences that I have described do not have to be
accepted as mere beliefs. Check and see for yourself. Anyone
can test these observations - if they are willing to look within and
bear the distress of self-knowledge.
This awareness does come at a price.
Though it is available to everyone, our tendency is to flee from the
inner life. It is just too painful to see ourselves as we really are.
It is no coincidence that the ancient Hebrews begged
Moses to go up and speak to God for them. They knew very well
that to see God means to die. Yet, for those who have journeyed to
the inward mountaintop and stood in the presence of God, the pain of
transformation is nothing
compared to the depths of joy and peace that God gives us as we
are remade in the image of Christ. As we allow the Presence to flow
out from the holy of holies, we are clothed in God's humility and
gentleness, truth and mercy, love and justice.
The road is long, and great challenges
accompany it, but to begin is simple. The way to God's presence lies
within. In the apparent emptiness of our breath - this holy center
- we can welcome God's beautiful Life into our innermost parts.
This transforming Power is available to everyone, if we will seek it.
2 comments:
Micah,
That was beautiful and helpful! Thanks.
This is such a beautiful description. I just started reading Thomas Kelly's Testament of Devotion and he talks about something very similar. Have you read it?
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