Everyday Monasticism The Calling by Paul Fedorowicz When I was a young boy I felt called. It wasn't exactly clear to what I was being called, or even who was doing the calling, but I definitely experienced a call to some kind of spiritual path. Raised Catholic, the only examples I had of people following a spiritual life were priests and nuns. I considered pursuing the priesthood, but even as a young child I guessed that a vow of strict sexual celibacy was not for me. I had no mentor to provide me with alternatives, so I struggled as best I could to protect the small, sacred internal flame from every strong, profane gust of the everyday world. During many of my years from childhood through college, I felt lost and abandoned. After college, however, I was exposed to yoga, and my inner flame grew stronger with each pose, breath, and meditation. The call grew louder once again. I had new models of people who had responded to a call to spiritual life, and I seriously considered becoming a monk in the East Indian tradition. I nearly withdrew from the everyday world by retreating to the mountains of Pennsylvania to deepen my studies of Indian philosophy and science in a graduate program. However, something within my calling encouraged me to move to Seattle where, instead, I studied Western approaches to psychology and psychotherapy while continuing my yogic studies "on the side." Over the years, I have found ways to manifest my spirituality through various traditions and practices. At some of these junctures, I considered becoming a Druidic priest, a medicine man, and a shaman. Yet, to my own disappointment, none of these traditions attracted me sufficiently to commit to their respective monastic rigors and withdraw from the everyday world in which I had made a life for myself. There is much about the everyday world that leaves me feeling unsatisfied: income taxes, leaky roof replacements, trying to keep up with the ever-rising cost of living. I've often wondered if I would have been happier making vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience, leading the simple life of a monk. However, in recent years I've made some startling realizations: (a) I have, in fact, lived below the national poverty level; (b) I occasionally experience long periods of celibacy; and (c) I have lived a life of obedience by acting on my calling. It could be said that I have been living a kind of monasticism for most of my adult life. Thus, the purpose of this article is to begin to articulate the ways that ordinary people, like myself, can and do live monastic lives in the everyday world. In his lovely little book, A Monastic Year: Reflections from a Monastery, Brother Victor-Antoine D'Avila-Latourrette describes the diverse ways in which one may live a monastic life. "A monk may live alone in the seclusion of a hermitage, live with two or three other monks in a skete [a small monastery], live in a monastery with a larger community, [or live as a] pilgrim itinerant monkoften without a permanent homefinding his vocation unfolding in the wide roads and narrow paths of God's big world." I will now describe my own and others' experiences with each of these modes, and include a fifth mode not overtly described by D'Avila-Latourette. The Hermitage: Time Alone I have lived alone for most of the past 12 years. As a result, I have had to learn to enjoy my own company, keeping mindful of my dreams, articulating inner dialogues, and developing a prayerful awareness of Other in the quiet of my life. Over the years, I have developed a number of daily practices that are quite similar to the monastic practices of solitary monks around the world. Each morning, I light a candle and a stick of incense and play some relaxing recorded music (Gregorian chants being my personal favorite). I then settle down to journal my dreams and afterwards, in a separate journal, write three longhand pages. This practice of "The Morning Pages," learned through Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, enables me to put down on paper anything that comes to mind. In this way, I access the unconscious, reconcile myself with the past by actively affirming my life, prepare for my future by identifying objectives and intentions, and address myself to God and other archetypal powers by entering into active imaginal dialogues. Many people manage to carve out some minutes or hours for being alone every day. Those who don't often admit to craving this time alone more than anything else in the world. I would posit that there is a potentiality within each of us that can be described archetypally as "The Hermit." This archetype favors introverted persons particularly, but even for persons who naturally turn inward, our fast-paced communications-oriented culture is making it increasingly difficult to give "The Hermit" his or her place in our lives. The Skete: Time in Relationship A skete is a small community of two or three monks living and working together. Though I live alone, I do work out of my home and am visited by clients and students daily. Whenever I sit with a client in psychotherapy to invoke the self, soul, or psyche, we are creating sacred space, a temenos, a container within which the divine is called forth. The same occurs whenever I sit with a music student and we invite the muse to be present. Throughout the world, there are examples of pairs or trios of people working together. Whenever they manage to dedicate their work to spirit, they enter into a kind of temporary monasticism. In this way, the monastery is not defined so much as a fixed place but as an attitude that is brought into each situation. The Monastery: Time in Community Though I mostly view my life as a kind of monasticism centered on home and home offices, it is a rare day when I do not venture out into the larger community. In fact, most days I attend yoga class at my teacher's studio. Housed in a former church, its arched windows and high ceilings easily put one into a sacred attitude. But, unlike my solitary morning practices or my work as part of a duo with clients and students, it is the group of 12 to thirty fellow students sharing a common purpose that creates a highly focused community. I similarly experience this in my musical ensemble's rehearsals or in the Artist's Way creativity groups that I facilitate. There is a kind of sharing of roles and functions that is enabled when four or more people gather together in pursuit of creative or spiritual expression. The ego temporarily gives up its autocracy to the group spirit that is generated. We can experience a kind of merger, a union, a non-self-consciousness when in community. This has its divine function, but it also can cast a strong shadow, as has been seen when people have given up their autonomy in fascist states or dangerous cults. In most monastic traditions, the monk is asked to make three vows: to chastity, poverty, and obedience. Time in community gives the monk who dwells in daily life an opportunity to practice obedience, particularly, since communities rarely continue unless their participants learn to cooperate and follow some minimal set of guidelines or rules. The Pilgrimage: Time in the World As an introvert and whose astrological sun sign is Cancer, I am typically quite content to spend my days around the home, only taking short excursions into the greater community. However, periodically, I feel the pull to travel out into the world, visiting sites that seem to hold spiritual power and represent the divine. Over the years, I have made pilgrimages to Avalon of Glastonbury, England; Epidaurus in Greece; Buddhist temples in Thailand; and my ancestral country, Ukraine. In each of these places, I experienced myself as a monk who had traveled to perform important liturgical rites, weaving a thread into the all-important tapestry that forms a spiritual matrix throughout the world. I also experience myself as a pilgrim whenever I go on retreat to places like Breitenbush Hot Springs in Oregon. I temporarily get away from my own little hermitage and monastic communities and venture out as a visiting ambassador to other communities. Also, while on pilgrimage, I allow myself to visit nature, thereby filling a well deep within my soul with images and memories that will nourish me throughout the year. The Mystical Marriage: Time in Partnership Because monks are typically asked to take vows of chastity, people do not usually think of monks as living parts of their lives as a couple. Yet, as depicted in the film Brother Sun, Sister Moon, St. Francis of Assisi felt a close connection to a nun, just as Hildegard von Bingen had a close bond with her spiritual guide. In fact, most of the alchemical literature highlights the importance of the relationship between the alchemist and his soror mystica, or mystical sister. The courtly relationships between medieval knight and lady also exemplify this chaste yet erotically charged relationship. I believe that two people fulfill the roles of "coupled monks" whenever there is a compelling attraction that is sexually contained, as in some forms of tantric sexuality. Obedience is only significant to the extent that one can choose disobedience or willfulness; poverty is only significant to the extent that one can pursue accumulation and excess, and chastity is only significant when there is an attraction that one can respectfully contain. Finding One's Place Thomas Moore, the popular author of Care of the Soul and The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life, describes in Meditations: On the Monk Who Dwells in Daily Life how, after 12 years following a monastic life, he experienced a calling to the everyday world: "Only a few months before ordination to the priesthood I was stirred enough by the longing for a bigger world in which to live and think that I left the security of that life and began my wanderings." Anyone who has read any of Moore's books would have to agree that this is a man who continues to express a profound spirituality through his work. By his own description, one can be seemingly called to the world or away from it, to the hermitage or monastery, but wherever one goes, there is God's work to do, if one chooses. D'Avila-Latourette writes, "What matters to the monk is not so much how his life unfolds, but that he finds the place where God wants him to be." The metaphor of monasticism does not appeal to everyone, but for those to whom if does appeal, there are choices as one finds one's place. Paul Fedorowicz. M.A. is a Jungian-oriented psychotherapist in private practice in Seattle, a hatha yoga teacher, and a musician. He is also a creativity coach, utilizing The Artist's Way (spring groups commence in April, and a retreat at Breitenbush Hot Springs takes place June 5-9). For more information, see classified ad in this issue under "Events," or call (206) 720-0091.