It is becoming abundantly clear: something has to change. Our communities and our entire species are about to make a turn here. How can we participate?
I believe it will begin (and it is already beginning) with the practice of seeing differently.
Twenty years ago, on a whim, I went to a Jewish Mysticism Seminar at 92Y (a venerable public learning institution in Manhattan). I was in the front row, a teachers' pet at the edge of my seat, when Rabbi Lawrence Kushner looked at us and said, "You. Are. Mystics."
"Who, me?" I blurted out, startling myself.
"Yes, you," he said.
I staggered onto the sidewalk of Lexington Avenue during the seminar lunch break, drunk with the discovery of human power to see differently. This mystic courage went beyond what I’ve experienced in my home, educational, religious, or professional life.
I was still dizzy when we reconvened. The rabbi went on to say that "for most people, their mystical experiences occur for about twenty seconds, about every two years." That seemed about right.
Soon after the seminar, the angular life of computer screens, city streets, and filling systems of our modern minds took over. I got back to familiar worries that have been squatting in my head ever since I can remember.
But that's not how the story ends. My muscle of astonishment warmed up, relaxed, and awakened, and I found some long needed rest from the numbing sanity of my strategic mind and defended self.
At first, after the experience, a new sense of freedom would randomly and rarely appear. It happened while taking my daughters for a walk. I would just blurt out, sometimes scream, "Joy, joy, joy!" to them (As kids, they were a bit embarrassed on the street. Now, as adults, they see it as a tic of their aging dad). Then while running, cooking, or cleaning. A brave step forward was trying it while paying bills. Then while feeling worried, sad, or anxious. Then, the latest, while enraged.
Is it possible to think these thoughts and feel these feelings of surprising appearance, belonging, becoming, and then glorious disappearance? To live alive, everywhere and always?
It's an intoxicating prospect for those who want to change the world: Learning to see the world as ordinary mystics, urban monks, suburban wizards, or corporate shamans (How would you call yourself?). Not bi-annually. Daily.
You and me.
We want to change the way we see the world and help those we love and lead to do the same. So let's forget Mevlana Rumi, Theresa of Avila, and Albert Einstein for a moment. Let's forget Anne Frank, Mr. Rogers, and David Whyte too. Let's even forget our compassionate teachers, life-nourishing artists, and family members who showed us how to be in love with life. They are fantastic guides, and we own them our lives.
Yet, they have all been saying, loud and clear (here in Rumi's words):
Don't be satisfied with stories, how things
have gone with others. Unfold
your own myth
Our steps into a safe and thriving future do not have to be as difficult as we imagined them to be. We don’t have to control the process from the start to the end. You can begin with the mystic courage of seeing differently and learning to fully inhabit a life you cannot control and do life’s work that has no competition.
What was a recent occasion when you've hazarded yourself experiencing life greater than what you can control? Perhaps entering it sideways with a dancing spin or starting a conversation with a stranger? Or by giving more than you can afford and noticing more than you can take in? Or by your reckless stand for justice or ecstasy of breaking a rule you used to obey? How about a vulnerability? Or letting go of what you know and asking a more beautiful question?