The Breath of God: Spiritual Cycles
November 11th, 2008
If you don’t want to read about some of the things I’ve learned in life, please click on Tiger Stories, ZenSticks or Newsletters Before the Blog to bypass this entry. Scrolling down would work too and I‘ve got some cool pictures at the end of this that you‘ll be able to see.
Before I get into this entry, for the sake of simplicity, I’m going to refer to the universal force, chi, ki, higher power, Goddess, etc., as God. You can pick it apart all you want, telling me the differences between them, but while seeing the differences between things is a sign of intelligence, finding common bonds is an exercise in humility and love. And for me, THAT is where it’s at.
This is my own small effort to create understanding and love between seemingly disparate spiritual beliefs, so please don‘t use this to flex your righteous indignation, this is not intended to be a scholarly essay by any means. It’s just a conglomerate of experiences from the perspective of a little, moderately-old lady. Me. J
I’m not an academic, although I’ve done lots of exploring. I was adopted and raised in the Jewish faith, but found myself always wanting to be in the Synagogue alone. I‘d hoped I would hear God whispering in my ear, “My child, I love you, this is what you need to do.”
Then in 1989 I found my natural family and discovered that my great-grandmother walked the Trail of Tears from the southwestern forests of Georgia. When I learned that I was 1/8 Choctaw, it made sense to me, a few pieces of the puzzle came together. I’d always learned such profound lessons in nature, so I really couldn’t say I was surprised. In fact, it explained a lot about my psychological makeup. So I dedicated myself to learning the Lakota way (sweat lodges and ancestral teachings) which was more accessible to me than finding out more about being Choctaw. A Cherokee Shaman took me under his wing for a few years and taught me the truths of the universe according to the Cherokee way. This exploration lasted about 15 years, 10 of which I was a also practicing Buddhist.
In 1994 when I was training in Aikido and Kendo, I dedicated myself wholly to the martial arts and became a Buddhist like my Sensei. He walked the talk, so I knew he could teach me universal truths according to the Buddha. And he did. In my heart of hearts, I felt solidity in the teachings of the far east finding peace with those of the far west within me; I found a comfortable balance between ancient faiths.
Then I moved to Oklahoma and discovered a religion that had always been right under my nose, but I had always ignored. As I studied it on increasingly deeper levels, I found that it contained all the truths I‘d learned, from all the religions I‘d studied. (I don‘t mention it here now, this essay is about what I’ve learned, not a sales pitch for any particular faith.)
There are teachings that most of the world’s religions have in common. God is the alpha and the omega: that is our beginning and to whom we will return. Don’t kill each other; love one another; be tolerant of each other and try to live in a difficult world with wisdom and compassion. They each suggest too, to pray or meditate as much as possible.
While each religion offers its own specific way of achieving utter love and peace, as God’s creations, we all would wind up somewhere when we die; and where we end up depends upon how we conduct our lives (or, what kind of energy we put out into the universe).
I’ve studied other faiths intensely too (Christianity being one). I can categorically tell you that in every single faith I’ve studied, there is a very powerful and human common denominator that tends to be forgotten.
All those who live a deeply spiritual life live a very intense life and all those who live this way find that spiritual growth comes in cycles, or waves. Intense then easy; enlightened and then doubtful; close to God, distant from God; love then pain, questioning then answering, willingness then roadblocks; self-assuredness then moments of insecurity, there are all kinds of cycles on this path.
Some visualize this cycle as a spiral reaching upward toward God, others view it as a battle between good and evil, still others would call it the Yin and Yang naturally present in life. I call it the Breath of God because it’s an inherent quality of our spiritual progress on a global scale. It connects us to each other rather than rationalizing and engendering our differences.
In a metaphysical sense God breathes in, drawing our spirits closer to eternal love, light and truth, then as is natural to any cycle, He breathes out, pushing us away.
With the understanding that the physical world cannot betray spiritual truths, examples of this can be seen by the cycles of our own breath, in our relationships and our lives. They can be seen in bigger things like the changing of the seasons, all the way to something as enormous and unimaginable as the expansion and contraction of an infinite universe. In my own personal example, I imagine my Dad drawing me near to his heart and then sending me on my way so I would learn how to walk.
As God breathes in, we breathe out, giving him our breath, our will and everything contained within us. Then He breathes out, giving us breath, giving us life. As He breathes out, we breathe in and go back into the “world” renewed in energy, hope and faith. Once we’ve gone as far as we will, God breathes in again and the cycle continues ad infinitum, and at times, ad nauseum. J
One cobalt and cloudless autumn afternoon deep in the Colorado Rockies, I was hiking with a friend of mine. We were standing in front of a steep, brambly ridge and he told me to find a path up the hillside. I looked at the mountain and saw what looked like a deer trail and followed it. I wound up in the bramble, then against some cliffs and downed trees, but eventually I made it up to the top and had to overcome all kinds of things to get there. The view was stunning.
It was a very rewarding climb; I’d worked hard, made it to the top and got to know the mountain intimately. After following me for a few hours, the old Sioux said, “You walk the way of the crow.“ I asked him what he meant. He explained that I take the hard way to get somewhere, not the soft, easy one and showed me the trail I should have taken to get up the mountain easily. I got annoyed at the insinuation and grumbled at him, but after thinking about his comment, I have to agree with him and defend myself by asking, “Where is the reward in the easy way?“
According to almost every religion on our complex and diverse planet, crying is easy, laughing is hard; dying is easy, living is hard; hating is easy, loving is hard; war is easy, tolerance is hard; separatism is easy, unity is hard. Just remember this: Like finding freedom in a prison cell or discovering the abundance of life in the desert, apparent contradictions hold deep truths within them.
I’d like to challenge you to take the hard way; embrace the Breath of God; delve beyond the complications of life to find the universal truths they contain. If you think about it, it’s easier in the long run and it’s the most natural thing we each can do as human beings, for ourselves and for each other, no matter who or where we are.
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