This brings me to the topic I am most interested in at present, because I'm exploring it in my own life right now. What does it mean to be monk-like in a secular sense today? By this I mean, where can we see people who, like the monks of Ladakh, live in society, working and following their daily spiritual practice? Can their spiritual practice be an appreciation or an awareness of the present moment? [For example, the old orders of Catholic monks appreciate the 'Hours' (and thus the quotidian) in their daily routine of chanting and prayer, read out of their 'ordinaries.'] Can we see these appreciators of the present moment all around us? Do they have to have taken vows publically, or can the vows be taken in their hearts? How do they stay honest to those vows? Do they have to be religious, or not? Maybe I'm so interested in this because I'd like to move out of my familiar religious moorings into the vast ocean of the world, and experience the spiritual life in that context. Is it possible? I think it is.
One of the people I'm studying with this end in mind is the poet, Wallace Stevens. He loved nature, sought to experience it in the way that humans only can: through the senses, but inevitably interpreted and embroidered upon by the creative human imagination (the mind, called in the Hindu tradtion, 'the sugar-cane bow of the mind'.) To support this supposition, I'd like to quote Meng-Han of the Hermitary, who writes that "simplicity [a monastic virtue] carves out a psychological dimension that is removed from the artificial world and placed squarely within the natural world, as much as this can be. In an urban environment, simplicity has a personal touch, perhaps an intellectual or creative cast, or an engagement with objects and people that comes from an authentic core of selflessness." (This is to be found in his May 2005 archives) I see this kind of simplicity in Stevens, and also in other observant reflective artists, right here on these blogs, such as Paula of 'Paula's House of Toast,' or Abdul-Walid of Acerbia. Stevens gives us a wonderful record of his monastic struggles in his letters and in his poetry. Monks struggle, no doubt about that. All their journals attest to that. See the Philokalia for example.
The word 'monk' derives from a Greek adjective, 'monos' meaning 'solitary, alone.' My view is that we all have an 'inner monk' and that inner monk may take up more of our psychic space or less, depending. Everyone connects at times to that part of himself or herself that feels alone, sole, and sometimes, lonely. The aim of the monastic life, however, is to not feel 'lonely' in our solitude - eventually - but rather to feel our vast 'connectedness' in the grounding of our solitude. (Perhaps we can explore this more in another post.)
Some of the other characteristics we associate with monastics include: attention, contemplation, simplicity, humility, industry, prayer, hospitality, silence, service, study, awareness - would anyone like to name a few more? Joy, compassion, and how about appreciation of beauty? Julian of Norwich had an appreciation of the beauty and wonder of the ordinary things of life, the 'hoarded ordinaries:' "Also in this He shewed me a little thing, the quantity of an hazel-nut, in the palm of my hand; and it was as round as a ball. I looked thereupon with the eye of my understanding, and thought: What may this be? And it was answered generally thus: It is all that is made." She goes on to realize that 'all that is made' lasts in time because it is loved by God. It does seem to me as though saints (in the ordinary sense) and artists share this kind of loving along with 'God.'
Is celibacy required to fulfill the definition of 'monos?' I don't think so, just because, in my view, the purpose of celibacy in monastic life is to conserve energy for awareness and perception. Romantic and sexual relationships can really be disruptive and drain our energy, OR they can feed the soul. Actually, in the end, both kinds can play a major role in forming the shape of our spiritual life. But we definitely don't want to waste our (creative) energy. We can still feel our sense of 'monos' even when we're living in relationship. Monks all do that.
In my own life, I see all those monastic characteristics being cultivated by my husband and myself. (By the way, we're not celibate. As I read over the last post, I saw it could be read as if I were saying that. Not. I meant rather, that we'd made our own vows relating to our spiritual aspirations, and that because of that we fit in well with the folks at the Franciscan School.) I also saw this in many of the people around me when I was growing up in Philadelphia, many of whom had grown up within a generation or two of living in the many spiritual communities of Pennsylvania. I certainly see some of these qualities in Stevens, too, even though he enjoyed gourmet food, liked to be inebriated (and later, probably had to be), but no one ever said monks are perfect.
And this brings me to another question of interest to me: is it possible to be a dedicated secular monk without having had a prior spiritual formation in the context of some spiritual community? Wallace Stevens had at least some upbringing in 'church,' enough to miss it when he'd evolved away from it intellectually, and to have possibly sublimated it into his poetry and romantic life. Most of us have had some degree of spiritual formation that acts as a sort of 'base' or grounding for our further evolution. I'd like to hear from someone who feels they haven't had this, and yet have still evolved a monk-like approach to life, and about what is the shape of that experience.
One of the things I especially like about America - now this is going a bit far afield - is that it has attempted (not so much currently) to be a secular society that maintains a moral standard. But this 'secular society' is rooted in the Judeo-Christian culture (in its interplay with indigenous native american culture, it might be added.) Anyway, I find it interesting to see how we've done this, and I don't much like the idea of undoing it. I feel we haven't fully explored the potential of our secular world-view with its ability to enjoy freedom of religion, and spiritual diversity.
To return to my topic, anyway, I just want to say that I'm seeing anyone who values their solitude and uses it to cultivate their awareness of the world around them, or of their own inner terrain, or to contemplate and cherish beauty, truth, humanity or nature as a kind of monk.