This world can be a chaotic place. Whether we’re looking out the window or across the room, conflict seems to hover everywhere. Even when we aren’t initiating it, we become part of the problem the moment we respond in kind. Ego fuels ego, and chaos keeps spinning.
We expect our spiritual path to explain the chaos or offer refuge from it. We expect clarity: Should we turn the other cheek? Forgive? Withdraw? Build protective boundaries? Our spiritual practice can provide comfort and growth, but it can also become something else entirely. When we start overanalyzing every thought and emotion, we forget that peace, not spiritual perfection, is the gauge of our progress.
We humans are good at tying ourselves into knots trying to understand the unexplainable. That’s when our spiritual practice becomes just another stressor in our daily lives.
When I was a kid, there was a TV commercial for Hebrew National hot dogs. The gist was the government permits various ingredients in our hot dogs, but we answer to a higher authority. That slogan acknowledged that there is secular truth and spiritual Truth.
We all answer to a higher authority, whether we call it God, Love, the Self, or psychological insight. Ego desperately wants to be that authority, too, and does a darn good job getting our attention. Through its eyes, the “truth” we see on the battleground justifies our defensive reactions. But from a slightly higher vantage point, everything that seemed so sharp becomes wavy with undefined borders. Grievances lose meaning. For a fleeting moment, we glimpse a deeper Truth: love is all there is.
In everyday life, “truth” is a list of facts about a tough situation and what we plan to do about it. In the spiritual realm, those facts become lessons—opportunities to uncover our own blocks to love’s presence. Instead of fleeing from the “difficult person over there,” we come to see that our annoyance results from the story we’ve assigned to their behavior. Thoughts will come. Emotions too. But if we let them be—without spinning stories around them—we move through the pain instead of setting up camp inside of it.
At least that’s the idea.
Doable…until it isn’t.
As humans we can’t help thinking in terms of success and failure, and this can extend to our spiritual life as well.
Maybe we’ve had enough “successes” on the path that we think we’re finally getting it. Then suddenly we’re not. We’re standing at home plate at Yankee Stadium, staring into the outfield, when a crushing realization strikes. All the home runs we’ve been hitting were at the Little League field.
We’re determined, but there’s just no way we’re getting this ball over that wall. The spiritual muscles aren’t fully developed and we ache from trying so hard.
We consider stepping back, but that feels like failure. We consider swinging with all our might, but missing will feel like failure, too. Somewhere in the striving, we forgot that spirituality is not a game to be won.
Then a wise friend (thank you Leon Joel Russell) offers a perspective that lands exactly where it’s needed. This is a paraphrase:
I think two things are happening here.
First, there’s the metaphysical side of spirituality—big ideas about oneness and reality.
Second, there’s the practical, experiential side—actually unlearning old patterns in daily life.
The metaphysical ideas are essential, but we don’t need to focus on them right now in this difficult moment.
The practical part is personal. We each go at our own pace. We write our own scripts based on who we are and where we are today.
Don’t jump ahead of what you’re currently able to grasp.
It was exactly the reminder I needed. I’ve always emphasized meeting others where they are, yet hadn’t extended the same courtesy to myself.
Deep breath.
It’s all part of the journey. We come into the awareness of our true essence in our own time. We make the most loving decisions we can while respecting our human needs and limitations. We practice forgiveness for others and ourselves. And above all, we let peace, not the relentless striving for spiritual perfection, be the gauge of our progress on the path.
You can check out Leon Joel Russell’s YouTube channel: May the Course Be with You or listen to music inspired by his spiritual journey.
With love and peace,
Margaret
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