Soon after my arrival in San Francisco for the first time, I took a walk downtown and saw a strange sight: hundreds of men on the streets wearing that conical Turkish cap with a tassel, the fez. I couldn’t understand it. How did it happen that all these Turks, most of them fair-skinned, had gathered in San Francisco? Then someone explained to me that the Shriners were in convention.
We are a gregarious species, and everywhere you will see like-minded people coming together. Visit a ski shop, and you will find the worshippers of Winter at the long racks of Head skis speculating with one another about the prospects for snow. On most campuses there is a club day early in the semester with tables staffed by the lovers of French, hiking, chess, theater, electronics, or rhyme. Each weekday in the towns and cities of America, from Albuquerque to Zenith, clubs like the Rotary and Kiwanis have their luncheon meetings. Every academic and professional association holds its convocation and reading of papers. And so it goes, from shower to soiree.
It should be no surprise then that an essential part of the spiritual life is joining together with those who are spiritually minded, those who want to promote our growth and who want us to promote theirs. This should not be considered a luxury or an indulgence. The Buddha would say that most people throw themselves into the river of life and float downstream, moved here and there by the current. But the spiritual aspirant must swim upstream, against the current of habit, familiarity, and ease. It is an apt image. We know how the salmon fights its way along, returning at last to its original home. Those who set out to change themselves are salmon swimming against the relentless flow of the selfish life. Truly, we need every bit of support we can get; we need friends, loyal companions on the journey. We have to do the swimming, of course; nobody else can do it for us. But there will be an easier and swifter passage if we can swim with those who encourage us, who set a strong pace and will not stop until they reach their destination. The burdens are shared, easing them; the joys are shared too, multiplying them.
In Sanskrit, this sharing is called satsang. The word derives from two smaller words: sat, meaning “the good” or “truth” or “reality,” and sanga, meaning “group” or “association.” Thus it signifies the seekers of the highest, banded together.
Every day devout Buddhists chant three phrases, one of which touches upon this fellowship of seekers. “I take refuge in the Buddha” – he who shows the way, the perfect reminder that nirvana, or liberation, is indeed possible here on this earth in our lifetime. “I take refuge in the dharma” – in the deepest law of our being, that all of us are one. “I take refuge in the sangha” – in the company of those who have come together for the supreme purpose of attaining liberation.
Living Together | 
I am told that people now want to be loners and live by themselves. If you ask why, they will say it is more convenient; they can do what they want, when they want, in the way they want. When they shuffle in the door from work, tired and edgy, they don’t need to concern themselves with squabbling children; they can kick off their shoes and drop their clothes anywhere. No waiting to get into the bathroom; they can turn on the hot water – there is always plenty of it – put some bubble bath or their little yellow duck in the tub, and stay as long as they like. And when they have finished, there is no partner or roommate to listen to. They can fix the perfect martini, set the stereo to the volume they like, and pet the turtle in the terrarium, which is always grateful for any attention it can get. All this is called freedom. I call it sterility and the surest road to making ourselves more separate and self-willed.
You occasionally hear it said that spiritual aspirants should drop everything and set off for the woods, or go to India and wander about on the slopes of the Himalayas. But only through daily contact with people – not trees or brooks or deer – can we train ourselves to be selfless in personal relationships.
When we keep company with those who are spiritually minded, we help each other grow through mutual support and example. Yet since we are all human, we give each other plenty of opportunity for developing patience too. Either way, we move forward. If things are going well, fine; we can look for new challenges. If they are not going well, we have the challenges right there in front of us. But none of this is possible if we live in isolation. How can a basketball player achieve excellence if he never touches a ball? Doesn’t a ballerina have to put on her slippers and a pianist sit down to his Steinway? In like fashion, we need to be with people if we want to learn to live in harmony with them.
People sometimes tell me, “I’m living with my family, but it’s a terrible place for the spiritual life. My father says meditation is hogwash, and my mother’s afraid I’ll turn into a zombie. Should I move out?” As a general rule, it is much better to stay. No matter what the initial reaction may be, no matter how much teasing or ridicule we may have to bear for a while, everyone responds deeply to the growth of goodness and wisdom in a child, a partner, or a parent. All of us begin meditating in less than ideal circumstances. But if we are giving our best to these eight basic disciplines, we can be sure we will get all the opportunity we need for spiritual development.
So if you live with your family, fine; if not, wherever practicable, live with friends. The important matter is the day-to-day involvement. It is not enough just to take a room in a big house and eat by yourself – a house where the only thing you ever say to anyone is, “Has the mail come?” Get to know your friends and the people you live with. Is there anyone you ought to know better? Ask about their work, studies, or projects. Exchange views about space probes or vitamin C or mulching or trends in fiction. You will come to realize that rich relationships with a number of people constitute one of the great blessings on this earth.
Some people sparkle when things go well for them but withdraw into a shell of isolation when things go poorly. But dwelling on yourself only keeps you stuck in depression. When you feel inclined to brood, that is precisely the time to come out and be with people – to turn yourself outwards and away from your problems, which isolation only magnifies and distorts like a fun-house mirror.
The Spiritual Household |
Spiritual aspirants can share their lives in many ways. To begin with, if circumstances permit, invite friends from other households to join you in meditation. They can walk or ride over in the early morning and take their places beside you. Perhaps they can have breakfast there too, and leave with you for work or school. You might also try having dinner first at one house, then at another; you can stay on together for meditation later. Of course, some sacrifices may be needed. You may have to get up earlier, or skip a few activities in the evening. But the home where this occurs will become a better place to be. It takes some personal experience to understand why. If the neighbors were to glance in and see everybody seated there – still, silent, eyes closed – they probably would not grasp that spiritually those people are moving closer moment by moment.
After a time, the room set aside for meditation will become valued by all. Where before the television room or kitchen was the hub of bustling life, now the meditation room, though only used for a portion of the day, symbolizes the growing harmony in the house. Little by little, that room becomes holy.
Once or twice a week, you might spend an evening with your spiritual companions reading and discussing the scriptures and the writings of the mystics. Most of the spiritual documents mentioned in the next chapter can be used, but I would especially suggest The Bhagavad Gita for Daily Living. In this commentary on one of the world’s great scriptures, I have included many practical suggestions for applying the eight-step program presented in this book. I think you will find that it is not an arid or philosophical presentation, but one meant to touch your day-to-day life.
The mantram too fits in perfectly with family and friends. For instance, you can have a brief period of quiet for repeating the mantram before meals, bringing all to a remembrance of the company, the loving preparation of the food, and the divine Giver of it. And why not bring the mantram along on outings, repeating it silently instead of distracting the driver with unnecessary talk? You can watch the scenery while you do; you don’t have to close your eyes. Repeating the mantram will also help overcome the ups and downs of those annual family vacations where everyone piles into the car full of excitement and comes back ten days later hot and tired, drooping and deflated, with a few stickers on the dusty windows proclaiming that they did indeed make it to the mystery caves and the petrified forest.
Slowing down and practicing one-pointed attention benefit from the support of others. When people around you are reading at the table – the sports page, a chemistry text, “Dear Abby,” and the stock quotations – it is difficult not to fall into the habit. But when most are giving their full attention to the meal and the company, we naturally do the same. Similarly, if we find ourselves starting to rush about in the kitchen because special guests are expected, it is much easier to slow down again if the rest of the household is maintaining a leisurely pace.
Mealtime, of course, is the most natural time for good companionship. How fulfilling to eat food cooked with love in the midst of those we love and who love us! Think of that poignant gathering, the Last Supper, the simple scene of Jesus giving his final instructions and bidding farewell to his disciples over bread shared by all. Every meal should be a sacrament, in which we strengthen not only the body but the spirit too.
But if the meal is to be sacramental, the home must be a loving one. Today it has often become an institution where people with different interests take their meals and sleep. Everyone wants to be on the move; no one can find a minute to be with anyone else. We seem to live in giant centrifuges that hurl us out at every opportunity for our shopping trips, dance lessons, club meetings, bowling leagues, and overtime work at the office. I am sometimes asked if I think a woman’s place is in the home. I reply, “Of course. And a man’s place is in the home, too.”
To make a meal a time of sharing, we should avoid all acrimonious talk. How ironic that when the whole household gathers – perhaps only once a day – we often make remarks which drive us apart and spoil our digestion! Mealtime is no time to quarrel about hairstyles or hem lengths, to recriminate with someone for not doing an errand, or to dispute about foreign policy. On the other hand, we are not sharing when we sit in deathly silence, each person entombed in his own concerns, issuing forth only for an occasional “Pass the butter, please.”
Instead of looking at a meal as a chore, as something to be hurried over or an opportunity to settle grievances, we can come to see it as a precious time of communion. We extend this time when all who are able join in preparing the food. If there is a household vegetable garden, and perhaps some fruit trees, everyone can participate in growing the food too. Even small families can plant, care for, and harvest some of what they eat; they share the labor, and they share the bounty. Children of all ages delight in tending living things; it teaches them about growth, nurturing, and the cycles of nature.
When it comes to training the senses, spiritual companionship is crucial. If you go out with an undiscriminating crowd and pass a dimly remembered haunt, you may well find yourself seated again in your favorite corner with a mug of lukewarm beer and the last few pretzels in front of you, watching the proprietor turn the chairs upside down on the tabletops and wondering where the evening went. It is hard to say no to a group, even hard to say no to one coaxing friend. But if you are with spiritually minded companions, they will know what you’re up against, and vice versa. You can steer right around each other’s temptations and together find some tasty, healthful food to eat, some entertaining, worthwhile things to do.
Recreation |
In their earnestness, some people who take to the spiritual life devalue recreation. But the spiritual life should not be grim. It should be lighthearted, and recreation has an important place. If we have been working hard, the body needs to be renewed and the mind refreshed. When we spend leisure time with our family or friends on a picnic or a trip to the beach, that is spiritual companionship. But it is not necessary to go as far as the beach. Why not go for an evening walk repeating the mantram? You will probably see a few things you had never really noticed; perhaps you will have a chance to talk a bit with the neighbors or their children too.
If a good movie comes along – always at least a possibility – go together to see it. A play, especially a musical that the children will enjoy, is ideal, even if the company consists of local high school students who haven’t perfected their talents in singing and dancing. The lights, costumes, sets, and actual presence of the performers will give the children, and the grown-ups too, what the silver screen never can. We share something special when the audience and the performers come together in the same place at the same time.
We don’t even have to leave the house to entertain ourselves. For millions, of course, entertainment at home means only one thing, television. How we have let ourselves be enslaved by those alluring displays! I suggest that you turn it off, consider getting rid of it, and try some participatory recreation in your own home or backyard. Especially if there are children in your household, try reading aloud from stories and plays. Memorize a few lines or hold the text or just improvise – add a few old clothes, some makeup, a wig, a mustache or two, and you’re on stage. But however you do it, be active. Let us not accept as entertainment those half-hour, prefabricated television programs and lose our capacity to entertain ourselves.
Spiritual Seedlings |
When I say we need to be selective in our company, I am not talking about withdrawing into a little group and refusing to have any contact with people who do not do as we do. We should be courteous and friendly with everyone, aware of their feelings and points of view, and avoid being judgmental. I am stressing the need to build deep relationships with those who welcome the changes we are trying to make and who will help us make them.
When a seedling is planted in the countryside, it is fenced in so it will have some protection. Similarly, as spiritual seedlings, it is a good idea to surround ourselves with the protection of others who are spiritually minded. In time, of course, when our new ways of thought, speech, and action have taken a firm hold, we can stand in any company without being uprooted. Far from returning to our old patterns of conditioning, we will influence others by our personal example to change their patterns as well.
Wherever people gather for selfless ends, there is a vast augmentation of their individual capacities. Something wonderful, something momentous happens. An irresistible force begins to move, which, though we may not see it, is going to change our world. In this lies the power and the meaning of spiritual companionship.
Next Chapter: 8 Spiritual Reading
