Is There More To Life Than What You See?

There's a profound dynamic to sailing that goes beyond the scale of the boat, the engineering, the rigging, all the equipment that helps the boat go fast and stable, that goes beyond even the condition of the water and even the crew.  It is in fact, ironically enough, that which cannot be seen.  And without it, there would be no sailing.  Figured out what it is? Exactly.  Wind.  It's the whole force behind sailing.  You can't see it.  You can only feel it and notice its impact.  And believe me, it's quite a force to be reckoned with.  I've at times cursed it and hailed it (depending of course how well I'm doing leveraging it).  And I've been deathly afraid of it (when my boat appeared to be "going down" in the storm).  All of these responses to something you can't even see - but obviously acknowledge is there.

There's an intriguing spiritual dimension to this reality.  And of all people to acknowledge it is Christopher Hitchens, a contributing editor to Vanity Fair, most known for his self-proclaimed role as one of the New Atheists called to debunk the world of religion and religious thought, as most recently revealed in his manifesto book God is not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything.  His primary sparring partners tend to be religious conservatives and apologists for fundamentalism.

In a recent interview with a liberal Christian minister he made some surprising philosophical and spiritual observations of sharing a mutual appreciation for "the transcendent" and "the numinous" (which literally means, "surpassing comprehension or understanding; mysterious; filled with or characterized by a sense of a supernatural presence: a numinous place; Spiritually elevated; sublime"):  terms that Hitchens himself introduced into the conversation, not vice versa.

When asked about this, he commented:

"It's innate in us to be overawed by certain moments, say, at evening on a mountaintop or sunset on the boundaries of the ocean. Or, in my case, looking through the Hubble telescope at those extraordinary pictures. We have a sense of awe and wonder at something beyond ourselves, and so we should, because our own lives are very transient and insignificant. That's the numinous, and there's enough wonder in the natural world without any resort to the supernatural being required."

And then he surprisingly took it one step further.  "Everybody has had the experience at some point when they feel that there's more to life than just matter." More to life than just what you can see?

This is quite a profound observation from a person who has refused to embrace acceptance of anything supernatural.  More to life than just matter? Is Hitchens really saying what he seems to be saying here, that "the numinous" refers to the sense that there's something more to our existence than just the material world?

The ancient Hebrews (in Jewish scripture) had no problem acknowledging this reality.  In fact, to them, the scriptures never talked about "spiritual life."  Spirituality was NOT simply one of several aspects of life.  All of life was Sacred, God-breathed, infused with divine wonder and awe.  So they talked about only life.  As my friend Samir Selmanovic points out (in his book It's Really All About God), "the Hebrews loved both God and life.  Obeying God meant being fully human, with every fiber of one's being alive.  One could not experience one without the other...To tune in to human life is to tune in to God.  Existence itself is a sacred place."

There's more to life than just matter.  There's a Spirit to all life.  So embracing life deeply and passionately is a highly spiritual practice.  And historically (among spiritual traditions), this practice has been called "worship."  Living life with a sense that life is sacred, intentionally giving value to life and the Giver of life, embracing the awe and wonder that there is More than simply our existence, that there is a Life Force that flows all around us and in us and through us.  Worship is the spiritual practice of embracing God and showing value to the Divine life.

There's more to life than just matter - worship - embracing "the transcendent" and the "numinous" - giving honor to Life.  Renowned atheist Christopher Hitchens acknowledges this reality (in his own way).  I definitely concur.

In the spiritual community in San Francisco I'm a part of, Second Wind's "W" core value (in our core values acronymn S.E.C.O.N.D. W.I.N.D.) stands for "W.orship."  It's a desire to value living life with a sense of the divine, learning the art of living all of life as sacred, embracing the worldview (as Einstein pointed out) that the Universe is in fact "friendly," that God is the ultimate Force of love and compassion and goodness.  So we're trying to find meaningful and intentional ways to live out this value and important paradigm.  We think this value will empower us to love extravagantly and serve unselfishly to make this world a better place.

And in the end, isn't there something centering and grounding to sense that there is more to life than just matter?  That, as my friends in AA are so wise to regularly affirm, there's a Higher Power beyond myself, greater than myself, that nourishes and sustains and empowers my life toward greater self responsibility leading to wholeness and transformation?

When it comes to sailing, I can tell you that the most effective sailors are those that not only acknowledge the wind but learn how to live with it well, who embrace it and honor it and respect it - who learn the art of leaning into it.

What would it look like in tangible terms for you to embrace this core value, to affirm that there is more to life than matter and what you can see?  How would it impact your daily existence, your relationships, your concerns, your hopes and dreams?  What are specific ways you tend to show deeper value for Life, to carve out space to acknowledge and pay attention and affirm the Sacred in life?  When is the last time you actually thought about there being a Power greater than yourself and expressed respect and honor for It?

Spirituality Is About Learning the Art of Transitions

The longer I live, the more I become aware of how central to the journey of spirituality (and developing fertile depth in my life) is learning the art of transitions.  I use the word "art" intentionally - because art depicts a significant dynamic:  it's learned, it's creative, what works and is displayed as art for one person might look different for another.  In art, you may have a gift or natural talent for it, but it's still something you have to develop and work at in order to flourish. Doing transitions in life well is an art.  It's not easy.  It's messy.  It must be learned.  And it requires lots of patience!  Right?  I know all about this from personal experience.

If you've read Malcolm Gladwell's latest book "Outliers" (which is a profoundly researched book about redefining our traditional cultural perspective on success), he refers to what scientists call "the 10,000 hour" rule.  They've discovered that people (regardless of how much innate talent or giftedness they possess) who have reached the pinnacle of their respective fields all put in a minimum of 10,000 hours of practice before they reached that pinnacle.  Imagine that!  10,000 hours!

Reminds me of what my dad use to say every time he walked past me while I was practicing the piano:  "Don't forget, Greg:  Practice!  Practice!  Practice!"  Wow, as much as I hated hearing what seemed at the time an overly simplistic platitude, I realize how right he was!  To get good at anything, it takes practice!

So while I sure hope it doesn't take 10,000 hours of painful transitions until we get good at it (God save us, if it does!), the point is still true:  spirituality is about learning the art of transitions.

Horace, who is considered by many as one of the greatest of all Latin poets (whose work later influenced Shakespeare), was the leading Roman lyric poet during the time of the great Roman emperor Augustus (1st Century B.C.) and a personal friend of the Caesar.  In the first book of his Epistles, Horace penned these words:

"He has half the deed done, who has Made a beginning."

A profound and insightful paradigm.  Sometimes we think that our transitions are simply three stages:  an ending, the neutral zone, and a new beginning.  But as Horace wisely reminds us, the new beginning is only "half the deed."  As William Bridges, an expert on life change and transition, points out, genuine beginnings depend upon "inner realignment," when we do the important work of aligning ourselves with not only the new external circumstances but also with our renewed identities, our new longings and desires, our emotional shifts corresponding to our external shifts.  Learning how to live with congruence where what's outside matches what's inside.  This isn't easy work and also takes time.

Here's the way Bridges describes it:

"It is unrealistic to expect someone to make a beginning like that of a sprinter coming out of the starting blocks.  Even when your outer situation is complete - you're on the new job, you're finally married, you're in your new house - the inner beginnings are still going on.  At such a time, people often say, 'I guess I'm just not used to this new situation yet,' but it would be more accurate to say that 'I'm not quite fully the new person yet - but I'm getting there.'"  (Transitions:  Making Sense of Life's Changes, p. 173)

So he suggests that during these new beginnings it is a time to be gentle with ourselves or with the other person, a time for the little supports and indulgences that make things easier.  And it's also a time to acknowledge that, as much as we long for them, new beginnings can be things that we often resist inside just as much as the loss-filled ending and the ambiguous and frustrating neutral zone were.  Cut ourselves some slack.

So surround yourself with some familiar things that conjure up good memories or warm feelings.  Don't jump into too many new things all at once so as not to short-circuit the current new beginning.  Postpone other major decisions.  Take it one step at a time.

This new beginning is a time to return "from the disengaged state and the wilderness to set about translating insight and idea into action and form."  Developing new commitments at home and work.  Re-engaging in new and strategic ways.  Re-negotiating old and new relationships.  It's doing the hard and what might seem like mundane work of getting established in the new beginning.  As the Zen saying goes, "After enlightenment, the laundry."

This is why so many spiritual and religious traditions developed practices and rituals to help them re-engage and move into the new beginnings.  They often couched their most important insights from their transitional experiences in the form of stories that could be remembered and retold again and again through rituals.

The Christian Eucharist retells and relives the story of Jesus' life and death and helps the participant re-engage in a resurrected identity.  The Jewish Passover retells and relives the Exodus story of deliverance and helps the participant re-engage in that identity of liberation.  Stories lived out through rituals and practices and symbols to empower an inner alignment with an outer reality.

Horace was right:  new beginnings are but the beginning of "a deed half done."

That's why the spiritual community I belong to here in San Francisco, Second Wind, is committed to our stories of past, present, and future.  We value entering into the great ancient and contemporary stories of faith and transition.  And in so doing, empower ourselves to live out effective new beginnings again and again.  Telling and respecting and valuing each other's stories is one of the ways we're "practicing" the art of transitions.

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Human Ballast and the Soul: A Lesson From My 16' Snipe

I used to own a 16' Snipe sailboat.  Loved it!  Sailing is exciting in a smaller boat because you're right on top of the water, you can sense the speed more easily, and handling strong wind is a wonderful challenge.  The issue of ballast is quite different, too.  Small sailboats don't have the heavy keels that larger boats do.  They have dagger boards - a smaller, thinner, lighter board often made of wood or metal that can be retracted (pulled up or pushed down through the hull) depending on the depth of the water. So since there isn't lots of weight below the water line (like a large sailboat), the people in the boat provide the ballast and balance.  When the wind is blowing, the crew leans out over the edge of the boat to provide more weight counter-balance to keep the boat from tipping over.  Fairly crucial!

My 16' Snipe was basically a 2 person boat.  Which meant that the two people have to work together to keep the boat in good balance when tacking back and forth in the wind.  Human ballast.  Get the balance offset and the result can be disastrous, especially if you're in a race and trying to beat the opponents.

My youngest son Julian and I were sailing in Lake Washington, on the edge of Seattle, several years ago in fairly heavy wind.  It was very exciting and exhilarating!  We went into a tack - "Ready to come about!"  I shouted.  "Ready to come about!"  he responded.  I turned the tiller across the wind, and shouted "Coming about!"  He shouted, "Coming About!"  As the bow of the boat rapidly flew into and beyond the wind direction, I shifted sides immediately, but he was a bit too slow to shift to the opposite edge that was now leaning way up into the air - he was still down on the water side.  The balance was all wrong!  And with the new gust of wind pushing the sails down toward the water, and his weight down there, too, the boat went completely over, and we both flew out.  It felt like everything happened in slow motion (that is, I could see everything so clearly), and yet we capsized in lightning speed.

We still laugh with good humor at this exhilarating memory.  A great lesson:  get the ballast wrong and you can expect an undesired swim.  Lose concentration and you pay the price.  Effective sailing in a 16' Snipe in strong wind requires strategic balance.  Working together.

I've learned the same lesson in the rest of life.  You can't stop the wind from blowing (crisis at times is out of our control).  But you do have control over the depth and balance of life so that when the wind blows you have enough ballast to carry you through.  Your own personal depth is crucial.

And, as we experience in smaller sailing boats, having people in your life who work together with you in supportive ways is also crucial.  Balancing each other in meaningful and strategic ways.  Have a "team" in your life that is journeying with you to encourage and nudge and empower.  When I look at my times of greatest crisis, it has been the gift of supportive people, in combination with a inner reserve of determination that I never thought I had, that empowered me to not just survive but end up flourishing.

And truthfully, those times were far messier, chaotic, and painful than that sentence conveys!  Capsizing might produce some good stories along with meaningful lessons but it's still wet, cold and debilitating!  And some people do drown.

All of this is often referred to as paying attention to what matters most.  I call it spirituality – taking the time to pay attention to the internal issues of life, the heart-soul stuff that deals with the depth of life, the “below the waterline” concerns, developing healthy balance.  Paying attention to spirituality is what ends up providing stability and ballast and depth.  The result is that when the storms of life blow, there’s enough internal weight to weather it and end up not just functioning but flourishing.

So how do you do it, this thing called spirituality?  If a storm blew into your life right now, how would you handle it?  How would you rate the depth of your life (1 = shallow and exposed, 5 = deep and stable)?  What are the internal issues you need to deal with to give yourself more stability?  Do you have people in your life who are supportive of your journey?  People you can count on to be there?  How intentional are those relationships for you?  How hard do you practice with your "team" to do life well?

These are the things I want to explore in this blog called Soul Ballast.  The posts won't always revolve around a sailing metaphor.  There are so many other analogies and symbols and metaphors that describe this process of spirituality and developing soul depth.  Thanks for joining this journey with me.  Pass this blog on to friends who might be interested.  There's power in supportive community!

As my son and I were treading water in the lake after our capsize, our bodies beginning to feel the effect of such cold water, a Coast Guard boat suddenly appeared and the megaphone voice sounded, "DO YOU NEED HELP?"  I have to admit it felt good to have them providing a watchful eye of support as we worked to right my Snipe and sail on.  And Julian and I worked pretty hard after that to keep our balance together.  Lots of good tacks.  Even in heavy winds.  I love him for hanging in there with me!

Michael Plant and the Importance of Ballast

As you know by now, I love sailing!  And this sailing story caught my attention.  In the autumn of 1992, Michael Plant, a popular American sailor, set out on a solo crossing of the North Atlantic Ocean from the United States to France.  He was an expert who had circumnavigated the globe alone more than once.  And his midsized sailboat, the Coyote, was state of the art constructed and equipped, from hull to mast to sails to navigational and electronic equipment.  As far as colleagues and friends and family were concerned, Michael Plant had everything necessary to achieve success on his voyage. Eleven days into the trip, all contact with him was lost.  A massive search was launched.  Days went by – no sightings, no radio contact, nothing, even from his top of the line emergency position-indicating radio beacon.  And then the news that no one had ever expected:  the Coyote was found, floating upside down, 450 miles northwest of the Azores Islands.  No sign of Plant, relayed the crew of a freighter who had made the discovery.

The sailing community was surprised that the sailboat was discovered upside down in the water.  Sailboats don’t normally capsize.  They’re built to take the most vigorous pounding a sea can offer, and even when knocked over on its side or even upside down, they naturally right themselves.  Why this anomaly?

Sailboats are designed for maximum stability in strong winds by having more weight below the waterline.  That’s one of the purposes of the keel.  Alter that ratio and strong wind poses a serious threat.  So when the Coyote was built, an eight thousand pound weight was bolted to the keel in order to provide far more weight than even normal below the waterline.  That amount of ballast should assure stability.

But when the Coyote was discovered on that fateful day, the four-ton weight on the keel was missing.  Obviously then the boat’s stability had been seriously compromised.  So the first wave or wind of any magnitude became the probable deathblow.  And a very capable, experienced and much admired yachtsman lost at sea.

Not enough weight below the waterline.  A storm blows.  Life lost.

In a culture that puts so much emphasis on what people can see rather than on what can’t been seen, is it any wonder that so much personal instability results?  We worry more about what we wear, what we drive, what we live in, what we possess (money, wealth, power, position), than about what’s on the inside (character, spirit, heart issues).  So when the storms of life blow (and they always do at some point), we don’t have the necessary ballast to ride it out safely.  We become compromised.  We fold.  We capsize, and sometimes don’t recover.  At best, we simply live life trying to survive and function at minimum capacity, as opposed to really living and flourishing and being fulfilled at every level.  Sailboats need heavy ballast to perform well.  And so do we humans.

I'm looking forward to continuing this blog's conversation about what developing soul ballast looks like on practical levels and in tangible ways.  What are you finding that works effectively for you?

"Ready to Come About!"

One of the important tactical commands given by the skipper is when he is getting ready to make a tack across the wind - when he's ready to shift direction to a new course in order to keep the sailboat moving forward.  He says to the crew, "Ready to come about!"  The crew stations themselves  at their various positions and replies, "Ready to come about!"  At the strategic moment - when the skipper senses the right boat speed and the best wind conditions (speed and direction), he announces, "Coming about!"  And with the turn of his wheel, he begins the tack, moving the bow across the wind and assuming the new direction. My wife Shasta gave me a gentle push on my birthday today (akin to a changing of the wind direction which calls the skipper to action with new tactics).  She in a manner of speaking called the question on the motion forcing a vote on action.  See, I've had this blog ready to go for quite awhile now.  I've had people, with hers being the loudest voice, encouraging me to start blogging.  I've always responded, "Yes, that's exactly what I want to do.  I'm working on it."  But for a variety of reasons, I kept putting it off.  I was sailing with the wind in a fairly good tack and kept delaying the strategic re-direction and forward movement of my boat.

The deceptive, and somewhat counter-intuitive reality of sailing is that a boat can never be steered straight toward the destination.  The winds rarely stay consistent in the same direction.  So boats have to tack back and forth across the wind (often pointing away from the "goal") in order to maintain forward momentum and achieve strategic destination.  Something I wasn't letting myself do in trying to begin this goal of mine.

So Shasta shifted wind direction today ... and I love her for this!  She smiles and says, "Greg, I want to help you achieve what's important to you - so just call me The Activator!"

So I've given the command, "Ready to come about!"  And now, today, I've issued the next logical and strategic direction to my "inner crew":  "Coming About!"  And this post is now the next step.  Thanks for encouraging me already, you who have written and signed up!  Thanks for coming about with me.

I'm learning that in order to experience maximum fulfillment and purposeful living, you have to be willing to face the changing wind and tack.  You have to, as one internationally recognized life coach, Marcia Wieder, puts it, drive your stake into the ground to prove that you're serious about your dreams and desires.  You have to take action.  You have to put one foot in front of the other and "Just Do It!"

So here I am.  Thanks for taking this journey with me.  Thanks for joining my conversation about soul ballast and what it means to develop a spirituality that has depth, fulfillment, meaning, and purpose.  "Ready to Come About?"

"Coming About!"