Western Baul Podcast Series

Obsession for God (Matthew Files)

We all have reference points for being obsessed with something or someone so that everything else is obscured. Obsession for God is an affair of the heart; it’s not about the intensity of practice. Obsession may be necessary at some point since only it will get us where the path leads. Coming to the point of not having anything else to live for is at the heart of being obsessed with God. The waking state may not be something permanent but something we move in and out of. Experiences we remember from childhood may have occurred when we were in the waking state. Obsession for God is an internal process. It can occur while being functional in the world and not stuck in a mad state of God consciousness. Everything starts with self-interest, including getting on the spiritual path. We can’t have obsession for God without obsession for life; maybe they are interchangeable. Obsession is more than dedication or commitment. A fire in us has to be carried in a vessel. Practice seals up the cracks and makes a useful vessel. Obsession can be cultivated by seeing what’s in the way of it becoming a blazing fire. Real teachers can provide a spark for practitioners to get a taste of how life is when we go beyond ourselves, but it’s not exclusively available through them. It can come from nature, a love affair, or in other ways unique to us. Some artists are obsessed. We can be attracted to being on fire and resistant at the same time since obsession for God means the obliteration of who I think I am. Engaging practices over and over may not produce what we are looking for. We can make everything practice. A shake-up provided by the universe can totally reorient us. With obsession for God, we may find that God actually is everywhere. Matthew Files facilitates groups that support people to look deeper into their process, formulate their own questions, and become responsible for their choices.

The Crisis of Continuity of Wisdom (Rob Schmidt and Stuart Goodnick)

How do people relate to a tradition once the teacher is gone and there is no authorized leader to carry it forward? An important distinction is that a tradition is intended to serve the Work and that practitioners are not obligated to serve the formality of the tradition without deviating from a formula. An element of continuity of wisdom is willingness to embrace a degree of risk. In some communities, there’s fear of wiseacring, a Gurdjieffian term for screwing up. If we’re open to learning, mistakes are part of the path. Can balance be struck between being true to an original tradition and responding to the conditions of the world in a way that keeps the teaching alive? The idea that size matters is a Western construct. It’s not up to us if fewer people are interested in the Work; yet we can serve those with spiritual need if we are sincere and open-hearted. Some believe that the age of the teacher is over and that the teacher-student relationship is problematic if bounds of conventional propriety are crossed. But by design the teacher pushes boundaries beyond programming and comfort zone, which is not a license for self-gratification. We don’t know how the future is supposed to unfold and can cultivate a “Don’t Know” state. It’s a natural tendency to cling to the familiar, but this must be released for the path to reflect our being. We don’t know how transmission happens, but we can feel its magic. We learn by demonstration. The secret to development is to align with a higher will. We can cultivate trust and receptivity, but don’t have to be perfect to transmit what we’ve learned. Conversation among practitioners is a useful human tool on the path. Rob Schmidt and Stuart Goodnick run Tayu Meditation Center and founded Many Rivers Books and Tea in Sebastopol, CA. They invite spiritual teachers, practitioners, and authors to articulate their stories on The Mystical Positivist podcast.

Don’t Know, Go Straight (Elise Erro/e.e.)

"Don’t Know, Go Straight" is a teaching that came from the Korean Zen master, Soen Sa Nim. We have two minds: thinking mind, and “before thinking” mind which is without thought (Don’t Know Mind). This is the mind of the moment, our true nature. Thinking mind, from which problems arise, obscures Don’t Know Mind. Yet, we need thinking mind to do all kinds of things. Our limitations are often mental constructs. Going straight refers to our need to act. When we come from Don’t Know Mind, we are shown the next right action to be taken. So, we don’t need to worry about what to do. Don’t Know Mind actually knows. It is a full body awareness, not just mental. We develop clarity by practicing coming from emptiness, without preconception. From the perspective of self-observation as described in the Gurdjieff work, conscience grows and informs our actions. Across different spiritual paths, there is the necessity to know who we are. Emotions stir up confusion. Practice is not about repression but holding or being with them without attachment to them. True fear is useful, and we can discriminate about right action when facing it. Being scattered or expressing stream of consciousness is different than Don’t Know Mind. Each moment can bring us back to this mind. Compassion isn’t something we do—it’s something that arises when we see clearly in a Don’t Know moment. There are different kinds of thinking mind, such as analyzing or checking minds. We see Don’t Know Mind in children. When we come from Don’t Know Mind we are more responsible since we take the whole into account. Humor arises out of Don’t Know Mind when we see the ridiculousness of our opinions. Elise Erro (e.e.) has been committed to a life of engaging spiritual principles and service through theater, support for the dying, and bringing enjoyment to others as a chocolatier.

Irritation: It's a Godsend! (David Herz)

We can look on irritation as a reality check since reality inevitably falls short of our expectations. Irritation can be destructive to spaces and relationships when it becomes anger. It is a gift in that it can show us something about ourselves and remind us of our intention to work. There is a lot of energy associated with irritation which can go elsewhere when recognized. Irritation can be triggered by external or internal circumstances such as being hungry or tired. People may provoke discomfort or irritation, but this reaction is often about issues from our past that we project onto others. Conscious sacrifice in not reacting to the unpleasant manifestations of others can be a challenging way to work on ourselves. We can learn to use skillful means when we need to address situations that are irritating. The greatest work we can do on the path is show kindness and compassion to others. We are easily irritated when our comfort is threatened, and habits make us comfortable. Reactivity for human beings seems to happen at light speed. We can’t catch it, but we can catch our outward expression. When things are going well, we tend to revert to old habits and go back to sleep. A deeper level of irritation occurs when we come in contact with the Work. It doesn’t go away since the dilemma of incarnation is not something we can resolve, but it can be used as food for evolution and transformation on the spiritual path. The longer we do spiritual work, the more vulnerable we become and the more susceptible to irritation. Irritation says something about our deep structure. A Master may provide irritation for others to see things in their unconscious. There would never be a pearl if the oyster was never irritated. David Herz is a spiritual practitioner who lives in Paris where he has been a journalist, technical writer, communications officer, and an English instructor at universities.

From Rigidity to Fluidity: The Art of Easeful (and Even Elegant) Transitions (Michael Menager and Mic Clarke)

The heart of transition is navigating liminal space. This in-between place offers an entry point into reality, a portal into deeper relationship with oneself and the Divine. We are continually in the process of transition. Each transition is an invitation to awaken to possibility, to consciously go with life rather than resist it. In the Vedic tradition, tirtha is a Sanskrit term for a crossing-over point from ordinary to sacred space. Hospitals, churches, and airports are transitional places. Everything in the universe is food; we just have to figure out how to use it. Savasana, the corpse pose in yoga, can be used to practice dying. We will encounter trials and crises on the path, an inner overturning such that things will never again be what they were. To transform, we must understand that our present form and the way we conceive of ourselves and the world has to disappear for another reality to appear. Winning without losing anything is a vain and illusory hope of ego. There’s suffering and struggle but also joy and love in letting go. What if we turned toward transition rather than away from it? We have a capacity to totally agree with the moment. We have to remember to breathe during transitions. If we can relax, we’ll have no problem. We can learn to befriend the cage we are in. A gap is a place where the shoreline we have left behind is no longer visible and the shore we are heading for is shrouded in uncertainty. The Way is for heroes. Part of us is afraid, but another part is courageous. There is joy in comradeship and companionship on the path. When we are in transition, it is useful to consider the inevitability of it. Michael Menager is a musician, singer, author, and modern-day troubadour whose third album is titled Line in the Water. Mic Clarke is a writer, practitioner of Vedic astrology, and mental health social worker. Both live in New South Wales, Australia and are students of Lee Lozowick.