Alone Together

Yesterday, we spent the day here at the Temple studying and practicing. In the morning we explored the Fourth Foundation of Mindfulness, then we ate lunch together and did some caretaking work around the Temple. In the afternoon we practiced together in silence: sitting and walking meditation along with listening to a Dharma talk and meeting individually with a teacher.

We always remind ourselves at the beginning of every retreat that ‘Everything is practice.’ We might also say: ‘Everything is sacred.’ While this is always true, in our daily lives we’re often so caught up that we forget. So yesterday was a retreat day—a day of stepping away from the rush and flurry of our lives. A day of coming together to consciously turn toward something deeper. A day of remembering that every moment of our life is precious.

Now I must confess that a day like this sounds quite different than it actually is. The truth is that any retreat includes the whole range of human experience. You don’t get zapped by a magic wand and walk around feeling spiritually uplifted. (Though that does sometimes happen.) When we say ‘everything is sacred,’ the key word is ‘everything.’ This is not an invitation to try to be holy or deeply centered, but rather to meet our ‘ordinary’ experience in a new way. Everyday life is an utter miracle. The source of the breath is unknowable.

This conscious coming together to turn toward something deeper is, I believe, the essence of religion and a necessary element of any spiritual practice. Though there are individual practices—the hermits in the deep mountains and the desert fathers in the wilderness, even a daily solitary prayer or meditation; these all take place in the context of a larger tradition that gives meaning and support to the activity.

And even when we come together, we each must walk our path alone. We each must work out our lives ‘in fear and trembling.’ But we are alone together. This is the gift of community. When we find that our anxiety and self-doubt are shared by others, we are no longer alone in our aloneness.   This is the gift of joining together with other human beings to turn toward the unimaginable source of our lives.

So I would encourage us all to find ways to do these two things: 1) take time at regular intervals to step away from the dailyness of our lives to turn toward what is most important, and 2) come together with other human beings in ways that can help us remember we are not alone–we are alone together.