As far as I can see, I derived nothing but benefit from my years at the Nyingma, and I still have enormous respect both for Tibetan practice and for the rigorous logic of Buddhist doctrine. Yet at a certain point I felt I had to leave. Tibetan Buddhism began to seem to me like a magnificent but alien conceptual structure, and its veneration of the Iama as an embodiment of enlightened mind cut against the sense of human equality that has been so deeply embedded in my mentality as an American. So I stopped going to the Nyingma and returned to my studies of the Western esoteric traditions, where my spiritual center has always lain.

In the years since then, I've found that my case is far from unique. Many people have taken up spiritual practices from traditions other than their own. Like many features of the contemporary spiritual landscape, this trend started on a large scale in the 1960's, when the meditative practices of Asia first became widely available in this country. One reason they caught on is that people were becoming interested in direct spiritual experience but could find little or no access to it in Western religion.

Gustave Reininger, a writer and television producer in Pacific Palisades, California, describes his recollections of that time. "I looked for any kind of contemplative practice there was," he says. What he found were "Eastern mantric practices or Zen." Reininger practiced and taught the Hindu-based Transcendental Meditation for several years until he reached a crisis in his spiritual unfolding. "I realized that to continue with an Eastern practice meant to understand that unfolding in their own metaphoric contexts, their own deities," he says. "They weren't supported by my culture. There was a nagging sense of 'where is it in my tradition?'"

Ihla Nation, a writer based in Boulder, Colorado, with a background in Lutheranism and Religious Science, became exposed to Hindu and Buddhist practices while pursuing a master's degree in religious studies. Although she found some of the techniques beneficial—notably chanting—she also had theological difficulties. "With Buddhism, there isn't really a God," she points out, while with Hinduism "the guru became a real issue for me, the issue of not prostrating to human beings."

Not all those who engage in the practice of another tradition ultimately find it alien. Sheila Klein, a retired school psychologist and interfaith minister in New York, has a Jewish background but considers her primary spiritual practice to be Buddhism as taught by the noted Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh, which she finds to be "very compassionate and inclusive."

Diane Brook Gusic, a spiritual teacher also based in New York, grew up in a Jewish home but now focuses her spiritual work on A Course in Miracles, a popular yet enigmatic channeled text that emphasizes forgiveness as a way of undoing one's "false perception" of a divided, hostile world. Although Christian terminology is used in the course and it is claimed Jesus Christ dictated it, Gusic finds no conflict between this and her fundamentally Jewish identity. "If you asked if I still think of myself as a Jew, I still do. I practice the Course. I'm a Jew by birth or culture. I can go either to a synagogue or to a church."

Despite the dizzying eclecticism of today's spiritual scene, the thirst for spiritual experience has led followers of mainstream Western religions to search in their own heritage for techniques of prayer and meditation. Judaism has seen a tremendous resurgence of interest in it esoteric dimension known as the Kabbalah, which has a rich array of meditative disciplines. Christian teachers have turned to their ancient past for such practices as the Jesus Prayer, an Eastern Orthodox method in which the phrase "Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me" is repeated inwardly as a way of obeying St. Paul's injunction to "pray without ceasing." The Catholic monks Thomas Keating and Basil Pennington developed Centering Prayer, a method of silent resting in the presence of God, in the 1980s. They based their technique on practices outlines in The Cloud of Unknowing, an anonymous 15^th-century English mystical text. Today Centering Prayer is promoted by Contemplative Outreach, an organization founded by Gustave Reininger and his associate Ed Bednar in 1983, and is widely taught and practiced in the U.S.

Even so, Western religions may not always provide the full gamut of techniques modern seekers demand. For example, it's difficult to find equivalents of bodily oriented practices such as hatha yoga or t'ai chi in Christianity. An acquaintance recently told me, "My church can offer me recreation where we try to clobber the Methodist in softball or thin our thighs, but at the Hindu meditation center across town I can learn to pray using my whole body and learn to experience myself—right now—as a temple of the Holy Spirit." Although Eastern Orthodox monasticism does include prostrations and breathing exercises, qualified teachers of these practices are hard to find in the U.S.

For the individual seeker, the chief questions remains, "What's right for me?" In the first place, you're most likely to find a practice congenial if it agrees with your basic religious views. "I'm a strong theist," says Siobhán Houston, a writer and student of religions from Asheville, North Carolina, "so I wouldn't personally recommend Buddhism because I don't feel it's a complete path. I really do believe there's a divine intelligence, and having some form of relationship with that is the meaning of life." While this is often a matter of upbringing, it needn't be: Western seekers who have difficulty with the notion of a personal God may find a home in Asian religions, with their more abstract views of the divine.

Spiritual affinities run deeper than mere theology. You may find the symbolism or approach of a tradition appealing for reasons you don't entirely understand. For some, finding the right teaching can even bring about a mystical experience. Gusic describes her first encounter with A Course in Miracles at a class given by Course teacher Judith Skutch: "I saw swirls of light, and I cried and said, 'I'm home, I'm home.'" Such affinities may seem irrational, but they may also point to a deeper way of knowing that understands what's right for you.

On a practical score, another key is finding a qualified teacher. Though books and videos purporting to teach these disciplines abound in bookstore, it is difficult to achieve long-term success without personal instruction. As in any learning process, a good teacher should have the knowledge and experience to help guide you through the pitfalls of practice. But it's not just a matter of technique: many traditions say that a subtle and ineffable force is transmitted through face-to-face instruction. The Sufis, the mystics of Islam, call it baraka, which literally means "blessing" but also connotes spiritual energy.

It's also valuable to find a community of like-minded people to support you. "That's terribly important in maintaining a practice—finding a community you're at home in," says Sheila Klein. Buddhism speaks of "taking refuge" in the "Triple Gem": the Buddha, the teacher; the Dharma, the teaching; and the Sangha, the community of faithful practitioners. Taking part in a spiritual community helps reinforce the practice and give a sense of belonging to a larger whole. It can also help erode an often unhealthy preoccupation with oneself.

To take a broad view of the enterprise, one could say that today's fascination with spiritual practices itself reflects the influence of Asian religions like Hinduism and Buddhism. These tend to view effort on the seeker's part (through yoga and other meditative techniques) as the key to attaining illumination. Religions like Christianity, on the other hand, with their strong notions of a personal deity, have historically tended to place more emphasis on faith and on the grace of God. And yet many people of all traditions would agree that there's a real need for viable methods of attaining direct experience of the sacred. Practicing these is a means not only of tasting the presence of the divine, but also of gaining the discipline and discernment necessary for integrating that knowledge into daily life.

Five Questions to Ask about Taking on a Spiritual Practice

Can I find a competent teacher?

Learning anything, whether it's meditation or auto repair, is harder if you're trying to do it out of a book. A good teacher should be able to guide you through many of the initial difficulties and should help inspire you to continue. He or she should also be available for guidance on an ongoing basis. Watch out for teachers who charge high fees. Generally the value of spiritual instruction is in inverse proportion to its cost: the best teachers frequently charge little or nothing, while expensive courses often contain more hype than substance. (A corollary is that the best teachers frequently don't promote themselves and can be hard to find.)

Does it feel right to me?

This question operates on more than one level. In the first place, a spiritual practice should be satisfying. Even if you find it difficult to sit still at the beginning, you should feel a sense of inner benefit from the attempt. It you don't like the practice, you won't continue with it. In the second place, a spiritual practice always exists in a context, which includes religious observance, belief, and symbolism. The more these jibe with your basic understanding of the world, the more likely you are to thrive in this teaching.

What are the people like?

When people practice a spiritual tradition for a long time, some indefinable flavor of that teaching begins to soak into them. Look at the community of practitioners that you're thinking of entering. How do they seem overall? Are they honest, decent, and sincere? Don't be misled by the phony sweetness that heavy proselytizers sometimes put on for beginners.

Am I willing to put in the time and effort?

A spiritual practice takes time—at a minimum, twenty minutes to a half hour a day. It also involves the sheer discipline to set aside the demands and attractions of ordinary life. You may or may not see fast results, but you should expect to make this practice a regular part of your daily life over the long run. Experienced practitioners will tell you that it will take years or even decades for the discipline to sink fully to the deepest layers of your being.

Am I really going to do this?

Tell yourself the truth. A lot of people keep meaning to get around to a spiritual practice and never do. If you're really swamped with work or family obligations and you're just not going to put in the effort, at least be honest with yourself about it. This will keep you from feeling a nagging (and useless) sense of guilt. But also keep in mind that a time may well come in your life when a spiritual practice is right for you.




From Spirituality and Health magazine, Winter 2000. Used by arrangement with the author and with Spirituality and Health
Copyright © 1999 by Richard Smoley

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