For the Love of Practice

Christina Grote looks at the challenges and delights of maintaining a spiritual practice

Many people are called to something greater than their current condition. This urge may be none other than an expression of a universal evolutionary progression toward greater complexity and higher consciousness which, unfolding through humanity, gives rise to ever-greater capacities. As far as we know, we are the only beings on earth that have the capacity to consciously participate in our own evolution. We can further this evolution with the focused practice of activities such as meditation, yoga, martial arts, prayer, music, sports—any number of things, if done with intention, awareness, and dedication.

We begin a practice because we want something—to learn, to grow, to be more than we were before. In spite of our desires, we often view the practice as a chore, something we do if we have time, if we feel like it, just a means to an end. But ultimately a practice is a joy, bringing great benefit in and of itself—giving structure, continuity, and meaning to our lives.

Think long-term

George Leonard, perhaps America's best-known Aikido master, defines practice as any non-trivial, long-term activity, best done when primarily engaged in for its own sake. Only long-term practice brings lasting results. Beginning a practice takes effort, discipline, and, in the beginning, an act of will. One also needs a positive vision of the goal and a clear philosophy to carry it through. Some say that after 21 days straight, a new habit is established.

However long it takes, at some point the practice becomes so ingrained that it becomes harder not to do it than to do it. The moment finally comes when we just don't feel as balanced or complete without it.

The learning curve

As George Leonard explains in his book Mastery, learning is a series of plateaus, where nothing seems to be happening, punctuated by brief spurts of progress. After the first flush of success in practice (there often is quick progress at the beginning, a kind of grace), there is often a letdown. Sometimes we seem to be going backwards, and then there are long periods when it seems like we're just plodding along on a plateau.

Ironically, the bulk of learning and development is actually taking place on the plateau. The spurts of progress mark the moments when the learning kicks in. Sooner or later we will probably find ourselves on another plateau, but it is almost always on a higher level than the one that preceded it.

In almost every long-term practice, it is tempting to quit, to look for something new, more interesting, and exciting. Resistance is inevitable, but we practice through the plateaus and the peaks, practicing for the sake of practice, not getting discouraged by apparent lack of progress or overly inflated by our achievements.

Focusing on the journey keeps us in the present. We move mindfully toward our goal but from a place of presence, centered in the now. Practice becomes a way of life, a healthy habit fully integrated—not viewed as more work to be done, more effort to expend, just another thing that we have to do, but as a source of nourishment that gives structure and grounding to our lives. A steady practice, in fact, can give us energy because we feel that our lives have meaning and purpose. There is no end point; even masters continue to practice, continuing to hone their skills.

Homeostasis

Then there is what Leonard describes as homeostasis. In the study of physiology, this is understood as the way the body maintains its equilibrium—temperature, blood pressure, the vital functioning that keeps us alive. Any change, positive or negative, can activate our inner warning system. When we gasp for breath and overheat on a hard run, we know we should slow down to normalize our inner physical condition.

The same principle applies to our mental and emotional states. Strangely, sometimes when beginning a practice, things can go too well. We can see results so quickly (again, grace) that our usual way of being can seem threatened and we stop practicing until the good feeling passes and we return to what we remember as normal. But vision, commitment, and the support of a practice community will carry us through these obstacles.

The paradox of spiritual practice

Spiritual practice is something of a paradox. We usually think of spiritual practice as a path to attain something—to become closer to God, enlightenment perhaps, or a more loving heart. But from the Buddhist perspective, there is nothing to be attained. We are not separate from what we seek. Enlightenment is our natural state. This quote from Ken Wilber, one of today's greatest philosophers, illustrates this perspective beautifully:

[The Great Liberation] is never found because it has never been lost. This pure formless Witness is the only thing that you have never been without. It is the only constant in the entire Kosmos. You have known this utterly obvious secret for 15 billion years, and before that you knew it eternally.

A religious believer might say that God is ever present, that we have the divine spark within. We practice to remind ourselves that our true nature is divine. In this context, meditation practice or prayer can be seen as an expression of enlightened activity, one of the best ways that we can spend our time.

Cross-training

In the quest to become more integrated, balanced human beings, we may find that there is more than one part of our being that needs to be developed.

Researchers have identified many developmental lines or intelligences, including kinesthetic, cognitive, moral, emotional, and spiritual, which develop more or less independently. For example, one can be very advanced cognitively but morally deficient. When practices designed to develop these intelligences are done in tandem, the results are greater than if practiced one at a time.

This is one of the guiding principles of integral practice. When combined, simple practices can bring about unexpected results. Participants in Integral Transformative Practice (ITP), a program designed by George Leonard and Michael Murphy of the Esalen Institute to exercise the body, heart, mind, and soul concurrently, find that not only does their overall health improve, but issues that they did not specifically target as part of a desired outcome often resolve themselves through the synergy of the practices.

Research confirms the benefit of cross-training. For example, a study was done combining meditation and strength training. Meditators who did strength training showed much greater improvement in their meditation skills, as judged by their instructor, than those who did not.

In another example, a group of basketball players who visualized their shots going through the hoop as they practiced improved their game, as compared to those who did not. Arnold Swarzenegger has said of his body-building workouts that one pump (of iron) with his mind in the muscle was worth ten without. The practice of mindfulness improves the efficacy of any activity.

Tapping into the field

I believe that when we practice, we invite connection to and alignment with an energy field, perhaps what Rupert Sheldrake calls a field of morphic resonance. Practitioners of any discipline create a field, a standing wave with its own unique frequency. The more we practice, the more we can discern what that frequency feels like and align ourselves with it. Tapping into this field can lift our own practice, and by our practice, we make our contribution to the field, strengthening and energizing it.

So, whatever you choose to practice, do it with joy, commitment, and awareness. The rewards could well be more than you might imagine.

Christina Grote facilitates an Integral Transformative Practice group in Columbus. Email grote1@mindspring.com for information.