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“Seek beauty, avoid suffering,” one of Lee Lozowick’s teachings, has to do with seeking real beauty in life all around us and not superficial beauty. It is about avoiding suffering of neurotic mind, not the suffering of humanity. The Stendhal syndrome is a response of being overwhelmed by experiences of art and beauty. Neuroaesthetics refers to the way in which beauty affects the human body. To contemplate sacred images is to contemplate our essence. Beauty can open a door to transcendence, to a big view beyond our self-concerned small view. We can internalize beauty through visualization. Digital beauty narrows our standards for what is beautiful; it can sell product and play on our longing for beauty. Mother Mira, the partner of Sri Aurobindo, said that surrounding ourselves with beauty can make the greatest difference in cultivating spiritual life. All the traditions have beautiful iconography and put beauty in an exalted position. Some of the great Christian cathedrals vibrate with the sacred. Ram means “the beautiful.” There is the recognition in Sufism that God is beautiful. There are paths of beauty in the Navajo and Sufi traditions. Bringing delight to others is something we can do to share beauty as a way of life. The degree to which people have dedicated themselves to the creation of beauty is astonishing. The food of beauty is needed to counterbalance suffering—now more than ever. Beauty is freely given. It can bring us to ask the big questions. Impermanence intensifies the poignancy of the beauty of the moment. Absorbing beauty is not to talk or write about it or photograph it. Silent absorption is the art of doing nothing but allowing beauty to penetrate. Regina Sara Ryan was the editor of Hohm Press for 35 years. She is a workshop leader, retreat guide, and author of The Woman Awake, Igniting the Inner Life, Praying Dangerously, Only God, and other books.

Spontaneous, genuine, intimate connection may be more valuable than a thought-out presentation or canned dharma. Length of time on the path (or in a marriage) isn’t necessarily a measure of one’s development. Time will tell whether spiritual experiences produce an abiding shift in the way we live. It can be useful not to rush for a remedy when there is pain, which can open us to compassion for a broader spectrum of humanity. There’s nothing like the deterioration of our physical bodies to drive home the reality of impermanence. A practice is to accept what is as it is, without judgment, and then to act. We can excuse ourselves in the name of self-acceptance. Seeing what hasn’t changed over time may be more important than seeing what has changed. We have to accept that the survival mechanism is a driving factor to work with it. We can be overwhelmed easily, and sensations tend to loop and feed on themselves if we don’t catch our reaction at its inception. Not sharing can be a way of being stingy. Humility serves; false humility does not. The motivation to engage the path can be to act in accordance with what we feel is true, which is its own reward. There is no time to waste. Heroic effort is useful for short periods of time; it is not a lifestyle. We can become complacent without an edge, but we can maintain an edge in whatever we do in ordinary life. Working in areas where we are not adult is a need on the path. Honoring a teacher is adult, but putting a teacher on a pedestal is not. Jim Capellini lives with his wife and guru in the lineage of Lee Lozowick in rural British Columbia, Canada, where he oversees the management of Kripa Mandir Ashram. Matthew Files is a longtime practitioner in this lineage who facilitates groups that support people to look deeper into their process, formulate their own questions, and become responsible for their choices.

Rob and Stuart talk about how they got involved with the spiritual path and their teacher, Robert Daniel Ennis, who said that true conversation does not arise from the psychological realm but from a place senior to it. He taught co-meditation, which is self-observation while maintaining eye contact with a partner. Self-observation is not a cognitive, self-analytic process. It is an energetic event that occurs when we are present to our thoughts, feelings, and sensations. The observer is silent. Self-observation is not occurring when there is self-talk. In co-meditation, we become aware of relational habits like judgment and projection. The beginning discipline brings us to see how we are on autopilot in relationship in ways such as trying to be liked or to make everything OK. Co-meditation activates the emotional center quite a bit. Solo meditation or self-observing on our own does not activate it in the same way. The intent of co-meditation is not to fix or heal wounds. Habits emerge in relationship before we engage in language. After observing our reactions honestly, phase 2 of the process is about not acting on them, which is intentional suffering. Co-meditation is not intended as a psychological process. It can produce moments of internal silence and communion. It can be a shock to be with someone without defense. We can be in relationship with anything. Resistance is a sign the heart is not open. All agendas banish safety. To offer someone the purity of witnessing without agenda is a profound gift. Spiritual independence is a necessary step on the path since we can’t surrender anything into the flow of communion if we are not independent. Rob Schmidt and Stuart Goodnick run Tayu Meditation Center and founded Many Rivers Books and Tea in Sebastopol, CA. They invite spiritual teachers, practitioners, and authors to articulate their stories on The Mystical Positivist podcast.

Spiritual practices are designed to lead us into our own experience on the path. We’re always practicing something. An ongoing question is, “What am I practicing now?” Something we may wish to practice is surrender to conscience. We can learn to trust ourselves and can feel if we betray our conscience. An essential part of research into ourselves is to know where we’ve come from since that has taught us how to be. There are protective parts of ourselves that we do not wish to see. A main motivation for practice is to work with the distractibility and reactivity of mind and emotions. Practice is a way of coming back to sanity; it can undo our previous training. It is ongoing training that we give ourselves. Reminding factors help us to practice. Making war on the planet starts with the war we make on ourselves. We can only be kind to others if we are kind to ourselves. Remembering the dharma can be a practice. If we sincerely ask for help, it will come. When we realize we are not practicing, that itself is practice and can bring us back to our intention. Fear and desire can pull us away from our practice and intention. When things are going well, we may revert to our mechanical self. We can lean into uncomfortable things and use them as reminding factors. There are many different practices in the traditions; intention is what makes something a practice. Change happens by itself if we self-observe. There is a fruit to embracing small discomforts. The mind can make the connection that practice is hard, but it can be a way of feeding the heart. There is joy when life is lived with the ideal of serving others. The wish of some teachers who have been ill or in the process of dying has been that their students practice. Elise Erro (e.e.) has been committed to a life of engaging spiritual principles and service through theater, support for the dying, and bringing enjoyment to others as a chocolatier.

The Destructible is anything that is impermanent. We fear loss of the Destructible by trying to hold on to things that will not last, which is suffering. What predominates in humans beings is not desire but fear. If we fear something, we are somehow attracted to it and yet do not accept and open to our feelings about it. Along with physical death, we fear destruction of aspects of ourselves that we identify with. We can dare to face threatened aspects of ourselves. Spiritual traditions attest to the existence of the Indestructible in us. To consider if there is something immortal in us is to search for the Indestructible. The Upanishads were composed by rishis who had insight into the nature of reality. They assert that the atman, pure consciousness in us, and Brahman, the all-pervading Reality, are one and the same. One part of us utterly fears death and another part, which senses that survival is not an issue, courts it. Non-identified consciousness is present in dreamless sleep. Emotions like fear have disappeared in the sage and been replaced by higher feelings like peace and love. Psychological pathologies can unconsciously motivate us, leak out and cause harm. One-pointed intention is the only thing that can manage subconscious mind, but this is not possible when we are split in our motivations. Grief and loss impacts our identity, changes us irrevocably, and can motivate us to search for the Indestructible. The path is no guarantee that the cerebral function will not deteriorate, but it is possible to train ourselves to say yes to what comes to us. The process is about allowing the Indestructible to be revealed. It is only found at the level of the heart. Sensing the Indestructible in us can inform our lives as we cultivate generosity and courage and lose self-importance. VJ Fedorschak is the organizer of the Western Baul Podcast Series and author of The Shadow on the Path and Father and Son.

“Be in the world but not of the world” is a statement that has been considered on the spiritual path. Does it have relevance to engaging in social work? A bodhisattva works for the salvation of everyone else first, which is an impossible but worthwhile task. We have to know ourselves before we can help others, have a grip on the turmoil inside before we can really alleviate turmoil outside. Wanting to involve myself can mask a wish to absolve myself. If we wait for perfect self-awareness before getting involved, it will never happen. It’s possible to act without counting on a result. Social involvement is an integral part of the work of a number of spiritual figures. Our work has meaning when tied to the betterment of a community. There are practices of breathing in the suffering of the world and breathing out purification. It can be considered a form of social commitment for spiritual teachers to help others see through the false self. Social engagement can be a distraction if it is a way to avoid our inner process. It is not necessary on the path unless it’s something one is called to do. Everyone's gestures to express compassion, such as chanting or actively helping, will be different. The spiritual path can be misunderstood as a way to avoid suffering. We may find ourselves more vulnerable to suffering on the path. People who have worked on themselves have a nourishing presence. Our motivation for social action can be recognition or to feel good about ourselves. Balance is needed to engage social work, but this is about managing the machine and not spiritual work. There is an inclination to relieve suffering since a spiritual principle is that there is no separation. We don’t know if our actions make a difference. David Herz is a spiritual practitioner who lives in Paris where he has been a journalist, technical writer, communications officer, and English instructor at universities.

The Sacred Feminine is not confined to those in female bodies. Many difficulties in life come from denigration of the Sacred Feminine, including the way the planet and women are treated. Imagery of Divinity has not included the feminine in our culture. Decades ago, many women were focused on claiming masculine power. Rinzai Zen is warrior practice, very masculine, but there is a feminine aspect to it in relating to a teacher and working on koans to embody spiritual understanding. Connection to female teachers in Hindu and Lakota traditions complemented Ginny’s Zen practice given the need to integrate masculine monastic transcendent approaches with life as a mother and householder. Embodiment practices can be explored such as dancing, singing, and individual rituals including creating an altar and honoring the four elements of air, water, fire, and earth, which can change the way we move through our day. Community rituals like circles, salt rituals, witnessing fire rituals, and honoring our female lineages are egalitarian. There is no hierarchy in the Sacred Feminine. There is a Japanese ritual centered around Jizo, a bodhisattva deity for babies and children who have died. Nature and beauty are pathways to the Sacred Feminine. The Sacred Masculine has the strength to hold the Sacred Feminine in partnership. The fierce quality of the feminine comes from truth. The forms of traditions seem to be evolving. Feminine icons may be more present today due to an unbalanced form of masculine patriarchy. Relationships between generations help break down the more toxic aspects of cultural conditioning. Myosho Ginny Matthews was a student of Joshu Sasaki Roshi for 40 years. She took lay ordination in 2000, leads retreats on practice, is a dance teacher and choreographer, and is featured in the book, The Unknown She: Eight Faces of an Emerging Consciousness.

There are aspects of suffering that may not be necessary, such as “luxury suffering.” Luxury suffering may be defined as self-observation while judging ourselves. Judgment can be positive or negative. Trying to avoid things or make them better is suffering. Constantly watching the news can keep suffering in place. Without seeing the extreme state of the world so regularly in the media, we might be more aware of the suffering that’s closer to us—our own and that of the people around us. The world may not be in a worse condition than it’s ever been. Pain and suffering are different. We suffer when we do not accept the here and now, such as when we want things to be different than they are and when we only want things that make us feel good. The distinction between troubles and problems which are real problems is considered. Since we live in luxury relative to many people in the world, our suffering is going to be luxury suffering. This kind of suffering, which we can do something about, drains our energy. Work on the path may involve intentional suffering, such as enduring the displeasing manifestations of others. The primal event of suffering is incarnation since we identify as our names and bodies. We suffer the illusion of me-ness because we don’t know our true nature, who we really are. Everyone suffers and no one can fix another’s suffering. Our suffering does not come from an event that happened to us in life that therapy can fix. Awareness and transformation are not the same thing. We cling to suffering as a facet of our identity. Compassion does not need to have a nice face to it. In this talk, there are interactions between Matthew and attendees about different perspectives on relating to suffering. Matthew Files facilitates groups that support people to look deeper into their process, formulate their own questions, and become responsible for their choices.

There is a distinction between what we would die for and what is worth living for. What we would die for brings us to reflect on something beyond this life. To consider this requires us to know and accept three things: our bodies are going to die, we are all connected, and we make a difference. Aging brings an imperative with it. Our society is uncomfortable with death. Keeping death from children makes life harder. If we weren’t identified with the body, losing it wouldn’t be such a big deal. We are not a drop of water in the ocean; we are the whole ocean in a drop. If we come to accept we are going to die, we are less controlled by fear and have more space to find what really matters to us. Is there a principle we would do anything for? What we would die for is something we can stand on and measure our actions from. It is unlikely we would actually have to die for it but knowing it makes a difference. Part of knowing ourselves, which is one of the most important pieces of work we have in this lifetime, is knowing what we would die for. It is impactful to consider dying like a hero going home. Even if we live an apparently good life, there is often an underlying pervasive dissatisfaction and lack of fulfillment. We can make a distinction between belonging and fitting in. If we look for validation and feel like we don’t belong it’s because we don’t belong to ourselves. Self-assurance comes from inside, whereas confidence is something we put on for others. Being offended poisons us and manipulates others. Without our transformation, there can be no transformation of the world. We can experiment with expressing urges to say or do things, which may make a difference. There is a distinction between impulsive and intuitive urges. Juanita Violini is an artist and writer/producer of interactive mystery entertainment who has been a student of the spiritual path for over 35 years.

If we put aside concepts, we really don’t know what a tree is. It’s a mystery of creation. The tree of life is a universal archetypal symbol. African, Celtic, Norse, and Cabala trees of life are discussed. Trees are a portal into appreciation of life and nature. Walking in a forest, we can feel sacred space. The decimation of trees and forests is also heartbreaking. It’s important to connect to and respect all beings, including trees. The three parts of a tree—roots, trunk and branches, and crown—are considered metaphorically. Our roots, including belief systems we’ve inherited, are useful to revisit. Gender, cultural, historical, and familial roots sometimes need pruning. Trees have interconnected root systems and are not separate from other trees. We grow together and absorb from others. The heartwood near the center of the trunk is analogous to the stored wisdom we gather through experience. The lifeblood of the tree moves to and from the leaves. Every tree has a pattern which can be seen in its rings. We all have patterning and go through cycles as trees do. Being aware of our patterns opens us to the call of our heart. Individuation, a term used by Jung, is an ordeal of growth. There is stability in the trunk and effortless expansiveness in the branches. The crown produces shade, berries, seeds, and fruits which are shared. We can honor our outpouring and what we affect in the world. Seeds contain a legacy, the thing that comes next. The fruit of life is about realizing our immortality. The seed is perfect, despite a tree’s twistedness due to environmental conditions. Creativity is a way to take refuge in our being. The practice of praise counterbalances hatred and polarization. Mary Angelon Young is an author and workshop leader with a background in Jungian psychology. Regina Sara Ryan, who was the editor of Hohm Press for 35 years, is an author, workshop leader, and retreat guide.

In spiritual practice, quietude is a deeply desirable, nourishing nutrient. Most practitioners find quieting the mind to be very difficult. It takes a lot of stamina and strength to stop ourselves from being habitually drawn to the stimulus of contention or disruption through distractions such as the news and social media. We can start with basic practices. The human being craves constant stimulus even if it’s painful. The urgency for stimulus has been researched in studies which show that many people intentionally give themselves electric shocks rather than spend 15 minutes in quietude. The wisdom heart, the intuitive mind held in the heart, signifies the context that we can access and root in that affects choices we make in business and life. The vagus nerve is the nerve of quietude in the human body. We can start a habit of turning on the vagus nerve reflex. It is helpful in going on retreat to set a clear intention and schedule. Good company on the path refers to those with willingness and centered calmness who we can borrow from if we feel collapsed. It is an extraordinary asset for practitioners. When strong and steady, we can hold up and help companions in personal crisis, without losing our seat, which is not fixing or rescuing. Quietude is the root of being and a priceless treasure. It is not stagnant but is very interactive and juicy. It’s important to produce relationship as a fruit of sadhana, even if no one is around. We can be eaten up by entities that live off emotional food produced by the distractions of life today. Do we have the ability to choose quietude over distraction? We can’t do anything about others but can be that which produces presence and makes quietude a committed priority. Lalitha is a spiritual teacher with an ashram in British Columbia, Canada, who was empowered by her master Lee Lozowick in 1998. Her books include Waking to Ordinary Life and Cultivating Spiritual Maturity.

Every time we tell a story, something new can enter our heart. Sharing a story with others can help us regain a piece of our humanity. Being in the present and letting go of the past can be a spiritual ideal, but if we trace back things that happened we may find buried aspects of ourselves. A spiritual act can pave over the past. Rick tells stories of his experience with recapitulation, of being an entertainer at corporate events, and of starting an online writing group. Looking at the past can bring us into relationship with what has actually been and allow for healing. The reality we’re in is only apparently separate from the past and future. Ego wants to create distance between who we want to be and who we are. There is joy in being honest with oneself and others. Sometimes we don’t want to write about ourselves or see what has gone on. Sharing life stories is group recapitulation practice, which is bonding. When our experience is acknowledged by another person, we get to integrate it. If it is toxic, it is defused when held by the matrix of a writing community. We generally don’t open to the present because we’re too busy surviving it. Taking time to recall what transpired, we live it for the first time. What’s important is doing the work of being undefended to our truth. Once that occurs, the benefit of being around a person—whether a teacher or not—is felt and their past is irrelevant. In looking at the past, we get clues about how our machine works and also get to remember the beautiful, sublime gifts we’ve been given. It’s possible to review the past to solidify a sense of self, which isn’t helpful on the path; yet we may be blind-sided by parts of ourselves we seek distance from. The internal work we all do is unique. Rick Lewis is a national speaker and the author of 7 Rules You Were Born to Break, The Perfection of Nothing, You Have the Right to Remain Silent and other books.

As a culture, we are disconnected from our bodies. In school, we learn to meet standards outside of ourselves and to listen less and less to our bodies. Messages of a hidden curriculum tell us that the body should be productive, emotions should be controlled, rest must be earned, and time is more important than natural rhythms. A controlled body cannot be a sensing body. Sensation is a way to connect to experience, feel our impulses, and take in information. Interoception is awareness of the sensation of the body. Awareness of sensations helps us regulate. Those attending the talk share about their experiences tracking sensations during exercises. The nervous system connects our internal body to the outside world. Distinctions between self-observation and interoception are considered. Sensations lead to impulses, movements, and expressions. Being a witness to our own experience equips us with tools to be with the fullness of life. As human beings, we tend to open to pleasurable sensations and to push away those that are unpleasant. We can intend to make our relationship to senses more neutral, to open our arms and heart to experience all sensation. Somatic experiencing training developed by Peter Levine uses the metaphor of life as a river. When regulated, our nervous system is in the flowing river of life. Eddies are created where we get stuck when overwhelmed. As we integrate overwhelming experiences, our banks widen and we open to a broader spectrum of emotions and the fullness of life. A simple exercise of butoh, a Japanese form of performance art synthesized in post-World War II Japan, is conducted. Naomi Worob is a student of the wisdom traditions and an artist, choreographer/director, and yoga teacher. She facilitates classes, workshops, retreats, and residencies that invite deep embodiment, creative expression, and authentic relating.

Creativity is going into the unknown with intention. Two “wings” of creativity are passion and play. Some people have titles for their role in creating, such as painter, writer, sculptor. Art connects us to who we really are; it’s an expression of our essence. Creativity is a purpose of the universe. It isn’t a luxury; it’s a primary function of consciousness itself. The big picture is that our life is art. We can develop our own uniqueness so the divine power can express itself in an original way. Working with resistance may be the best way to open to the human impulse to be creative. When we are fully absorbed and engaged, we produce refined energies that the universe needs. Creativity is a kind of prayer. The main payoffs of creativity are our transformation and the benefit to the universe. The tangible result of creativity that is produced is icing on the cake. Art is one of the first things to be censored or banned in totalitarian regimes. Creative people draw outside the lines, and society is all about staying within the lines. Beginner’s mind sees beauty, but it’s hard for professional artists to keep beginner’s mind. Objective art or aesthetic is hard to define but easy to get across through music, theater, painting and other art forms to viewers who are able to see it. Art can objectify the shadow and help us to face ourselves and the healing needed. Ways of bringing creativity into everyday life, such as in mothering, are discussed. Various forms of art are considered including painting and graffiti, architecture and cathedrals, and land art. Framing is also a way of creating beauty in art and in life. How we use our consciousness, where we put our attention—which is all we have—is the ultimate creative act. Karl Krumins has been a spiritual practitioner for forty years. He lived in India for seven years and has a passion for considering the essential similarities of spiritual traditions.

We move through cycles of death and rebirth through the entirety of our lives. Walking side by side with grief doesn’t mean being condemned to a life without joy; it is to live with the bittersweet truth of impermanence. Depression can arise due to unexpressed, undigested grief. It is a holy time when things decay and break down. Sorrow is part of the Earth’s great cycles. It can connect us to the current of life and the source of comfort and solace. Somatic trauma work can put us in touch with grief that has been held in the body for many years. It is common in spiritual circles for dharma to be used as a shield to overlay grief. Francis Weller identified five gates of grief that can expand understanding of it. These are losing someone we love, places in ourselves that have not known love, sorrows of the world, what we expected but did not receive, and ancestral grief. It’s a holy thing to love what death can touch. We tend to avoid grief, but it puts us in contact with such deep feeling. When we grieve, we praise the one we loved and allow love to touch the core of our being. We can welcome back parts of ourselves we have dismissed. The “remedy” for grief is to feel it and allow it to move through us. Grief is always there because impermanence is always there. It opens us like nothing else. It can be a doorway to the embodied realization of our true nature, to seeing that we are inseparable from the universe and connected to the circuitry of love that flows through everything. Grief has a shattering quality which takes us beyond what we think we can handle and breaks down the reality we thought we knew. It can catapult us into the unitive state and awaken us to boundless love without conditions. Nachama Shahar (formerly Nachama Greenwald) is a physical therapist, editor, and musician who for 17 years was a member of the Shri blues band which performed Western Baul music.