My friend and Director of the Shalem Institute in Washington, DC, Margaret Benefiel, has written some good things over the year. I have had occasion to go over some of her thoughts, which are found in some books of hers, as well as blogs and other venues. She is a fellow Quaker, but steeped in the Roman Catholic tradition. One piece I liked was called, “Cultivating Contemplative Conversations.” I am not sure I ever heard the term, contemplative conversation, but I like it.
Reflecting on the work of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, Benefiel says, “we seek a contemplative groundedness and deep listening, to one another and to the Spirit in our midst. The wider Shalem community, consisting of Shalem program graduates and others, also introduces contemplative groundedness and deep listening in many other settings. These are contemplative conversations.” There are a number of themes that resonate with the spirituality I aspire to practice. The idea of groundedness and deep listening are very attractive qualities of the spiritual person.
I have done some work with folks who have been a part of Shalem, but have never been part of one of their programs. From the founders of Shalem, namely, Gerald May and Tilden Edwards, to more contemporary leaders, like Benefiel, I have a sense of what goes on. But I have to give it my own twist. So when I hear their language of groundedness, I am confident I know what they mean. Groundedness is a graphic image.
To be grounded literally means our feet on are the ground. We are in touch with reality. The opposite of being ground is to be in the air---to float and be out of touch. Of course, most of us know what this experience feels like. There have been times in my life when I was not grounded. I think about the time in my adolescence when I was trying to live out the dream others had for me. I thought the dream was real, but it was not. It was not my dream. It was not part of my own ground.
I could have continued to chase that dream and, perhaps, at one level pulled off the dream. But I would have been working at a job that I knew was not for me. And I would have been the person I knew was not the real me. In Merton’s language I would have been a false self. I might even have been good at it, which would have enhanced some unhealthy pride. Pride is a primary form of not being grounded. To be grounded is to be humble---a part of the humus, the earth.
I have been teaching contemplative spirituality long enough to be able to guess that contemplative groundedness is a form of groundedness that is in touch with the Spirit. You not only have your feet on the ground. You have your soul connected with the Spirit of God. Who you are and how you act comes out of this grounded place. In work it amounts to a clear sense of spiritual identity and spiritual vocation.
To be spiritually grounded is not an achievement. One does not get grounded as a matter of accomplishment and lock it in. To the contrary. To be contemplative grounded is more like a practice---like practicing meditation. Even if I feel grounded today, I will need to practice it again tomorrow. It is very easy to have the world sweep me off my feet and I start floating in those illusions. I need continually to get in touch, be in touch and stay in touch.
The other phrase she uses is deep listening. Again I resonate with this. No doubt, most of us have used the distinction between hearing and listening. It is easy in our world to hear things. In fact, our world is fairly noisy. Anyone with some age thinks about now much louder the music seems to be played these days. I know when I go to the pre-game warm up of a basketball game, the volume is uncomfortable. The other end of the spectrum of hearing is simply to ignore another person. We don’t hear at all. It is an easy way of saying we don’t care.
Hearing is different from listening. To listen is to participate. To listen is to pay attention---to say I care and want to share. And of course, deep listening intensifies this experience. Deep listening takes listening to new, significant levels. Deep listening is really a form of empathy---we have taken a passionate involvement with the speaker. It aims at understanding and support where possible.
If we ever had the experience of being deeply listened to, we feel cared for to our core. Even if the other person can do nothing for our situation, we know at our deepest level we have been heard, touched and held. I like how Benefiel talks about how contemplative conversations enable each other to meet at the edge. If I can be at the edge of who I am and meet you at that edge, then we participate in a mutual reality which we can call “ours.” Otherwise, it is my reality and your reality.
I can think of contemplative conversations I have had. It is also easy to think about the many ways I can take this practice into more conversations and more arenas of my life. I am confident this would be transformational. If I were to practice contemplative conversations, I could add value to every conversation and dialogue. I could enhance my relationships and probably affect other relationships which may currently be pretty superficial.
Contemplative conversations are nothing more than a commitment matched with intentionality and acted out in a practice.
Reflecting on the work of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, Benefiel says, “we seek a contemplative groundedness and deep listening, to one another and to the Spirit in our midst. The wider Shalem community, consisting of Shalem program graduates and others, also introduces contemplative groundedness and deep listening in many other settings. These are contemplative conversations.” There are a number of themes that resonate with the spirituality I aspire to practice. The idea of groundedness and deep listening are very attractive qualities of the spiritual person.
I have done some work with folks who have been a part of Shalem, but have never been part of one of their programs. From the founders of Shalem, namely, Gerald May and Tilden Edwards, to more contemporary leaders, like Benefiel, I have a sense of what goes on. But I have to give it my own twist. So when I hear their language of groundedness, I am confident I know what they mean. Groundedness is a graphic image.
To be grounded literally means our feet on are the ground. We are in touch with reality. The opposite of being ground is to be in the air---to float and be out of touch. Of course, most of us know what this experience feels like. There have been times in my life when I was not grounded. I think about the time in my adolescence when I was trying to live out the dream others had for me. I thought the dream was real, but it was not. It was not my dream. It was not part of my own ground.
I could have continued to chase that dream and, perhaps, at one level pulled off the dream. But I would have been working at a job that I knew was not for me. And I would have been the person I knew was not the real me. In Merton’s language I would have been a false self. I might even have been good at it, which would have enhanced some unhealthy pride. Pride is a primary form of not being grounded. To be grounded is to be humble---a part of the humus, the earth.
I have been teaching contemplative spirituality long enough to be able to guess that contemplative groundedness is a form of groundedness that is in touch with the Spirit. You not only have your feet on the ground. You have your soul connected with the Spirit of God. Who you are and how you act comes out of this grounded place. In work it amounts to a clear sense of spiritual identity and spiritual vocation.
To be spiritually grounded is not an achievement. One does not get grounded as a matter of accomplishment and lock it in. To the contrary. To be contemplative grounded is more like a practice---like practicing meditation. Even if I feel grounded today, I will need to practice it again tomorrow. It is very easy to have the world sweep me off my feet and I start floating in those illusions. I need continually to get in touch, be in touch and stay in touch.
The other phrase she uses is deep listening. Again I resonate with this. No doubt, most of us have used the distinction between hearing and listening. It is easy in our world to hear things. In fact, our world is fairly noisy. Anyone with some age thinks about now much louder the music seems to be played these days. I know when I go to the pre-game warm up of a basketball game, the volume is uncomfortable. The other end of the spectrum of hearing is simply to ignore another person. We don’t hear at all. It is an easy way of saying we don’t care.
Hearing is different from listening. To listen is to participate. To listen is to pay attention---to say I care and want to share. And of course, deep listening intensifies this experience. Deep listening takes listening to new, significant levels. Deep listening is really a form of empathy---we have taken a passionate involvement with the speaker. It aims at understanding and support where possible.
If we ever had the experience of being deeply listened to, we feel cared for to our core. Even if the other person can do nothing for our situation, we know at our deepest level we have been heard, touched and held. I like how Benefiel talks about how contemplative conversations enable each other to meet at the edge. If I can be at the edge of who I am and meet you at that edge, then we participate in a mutual reality which we can call “ours.” Otherwise, it is my reality and your reality.
I can think of contemplative conversations I have had. It is also easy to think about the many ways I can take this practice into more conversations and more arenas of my life. I am confident this would be transformational. If I were to practice contemplative conversations, I could add value to every conversation and dialogue. I could enhance my relationships and probably affect other relationships which may currently be pretty superficial.
Contemplative conversations are nothing more than a commitment matched with intentionality and acted out in a practice.
Comments
Post a Comment