 Nothing
Short Of Passionby Alan Cohen At a seminar, a woman spoke of long-time frustration in her marriage. Sandy had had an ideal marriage for many years, but now she felt like her communication and sense of shared values with her husband was dead. Yet she had become adjusted to the security her husband provided, and feared to confront him about her unhappiness. Sandy went to a counselor and told her, “I think I can stay and be at peace.” “That is not the question,” the counselor answered. “The real question is, can you stay and be in joy?” What many of us call "peace" is simply an adjustment, actually a form of death. Real peace is not simply the absence of war; it is a state of joyful fulfillment. To be in a marriage, friendship, or business that is not enlivening, empowering, and richly creative, is to have settled for less than you want or deserve. You may lull yourself into a lethargic stupor, rationalizing that things are easy, but in the long run you only lose vitality, for as a spiritual being nothing short of passion will fulfill you. Does this mean you should just dump your marriage, business, or friendships, and move to Paris? No, that is just one way it could turn out. More practically, the reclaiming of passion begins with telling more truth about what your heart is calling you to do and be. Communicated skillfully, you can reinfuse passion in your marriage or work, and move with your partner to an entirely new and more rewarding level. Yet no matter what course you take, your theme is simple: Don’t settle short of aliveness. If you, like many in our culture, have become addicted to the adrenaline rush of always having to have some drama, emergency, crisis, or busyness to keep your stimulation level maxed to the red zone, consider this: It is possible to live with intense joy, passion, and aliveness, and be energized by the sheer celebration of the beauty, love, and good around you. In the fifteenth century, a group of reclusive monks lived in a monastery in the quiet hills of England, where they spent all of their chaste lives scribing copies of the Bible. One day one of the elderly monks said to another, “I think I’ll go to our vault and take a look at our earliest copy of the Bible. We have been making copies from copies for many years, and I would like to refresh myself with the original text.” A few hours later the monk returned, livid. His eyes were bulging, his hands trembled, and he looked as if he had just seen a ghost. “Brother Theodore!” his associate cried out, “What have you seen in there?” “It’s ‘celebrate!’” Brother Theodore exclaimed, “—with an ‘r’” There are three different levels from which a human being may approach life. The first is frustration, where there is never enough money, love, relationship, health, or well-being, and most of our efforts are struggles to get to a place of peace. The second level is that of survival maintenance, at which our basic needs are met. The rent is paid, our car is working, we have a steady job, and we are in relationship with someone we get along with. The third level, which I encourage you to claim, is that of joyful celebration. As spiritual beings, it is not really enough to just pay our bills; we want to have some fun with our money, too! What a dullard we become if all of our income goes simply to keep up with expenses. How about a vacation in a beautiful place? How about going out to dinner to a nice restaurant with dear friends? How about some presents for yourself and your loved ones? Several years ago, while looking to purchase a modest car, I came upon a steamy red RX-7 convertible with a (then-new) built-in CD player and all kinds of whistles and bells. My first thought was “Oh, no, this is too slick,” but I kept thinking about the car with rich delight. So I bought it, and I loved every minute of driving it. The five years I had that car provided me with continual joy. I didn’t care if anyone ever saw me or even rode with me. My driving experience was a sheer pleasure, and still turns me on to think about it! Some may judge such a car to be a material indulgence, but I tell you the experience was utterly spiritual. I felt joy and aliveness in that vehicle, and what more is God than joy and aliveness? Years ago, during an ascetic mode, I bought a stripped-down grey Toyota Tercel. Yuk. My aura shank every time I drove that car. It was practical, yet boring. I am not encouraging you to do foolish things with your money or life; I am encouraging you to tune into what truly brings you life, and move with the energy of expansiveness. Life is about expansion, not protection, celebration, not adjustment. Yes, you may be able to stay in what you call peace, but what would it take for you to stay in joy? ¤ |
