The Mission

Recently I realized I live in a spiritual desert. I say "spiritual" for lack of a better word -- the least "spiritual" thing I can think of is sitting in any of the churches I've been in -- but other candidate words, such as religious, supernatural, metaphysical, essential, joyous, none of them work.

I have some idea of what I mean when I think of being "spiritually nourished", as I've had that feeling. I often feel it in the wild places, or in positive interactions with others. I feel the absence of it when materially overwhelmed with endless entertainment, too many posessions, constant climate control, excessive concern with regard to financial and personal security. I feel its absence when around those who show disdain for others, who wish to surpass those others in some privilege; often they are just as happy to see others fall as to rise up themselves. The spiritual fountain is dry when those of us in good health are too lazy or hurried to walk a half-mile, and it doesn't feed us when our time is aimless.

I am my best self when I have a mission, and I have had one for some time, though I continue to hone it. It's not always clear how to interpret it, but I truly believe it.

All my actions should serve to increase joy and minimize suffering.

That's how simple it is. The difficulty lies in applying it to a situation. I'll start with one of my favorite examples -- the suburbanite with dandelions growing in his yard. Should he spray toxins on them to make his lawn look like that of most of his neighbors? The details will supply the correct answer. My first response is no, this does not support my mission. Whose joy is increased? Some may be relieved to see he has conformed, but the absence of dandelions is a far cry from art that may move us deeply. And suffering is probably increased because of his actions. Present and future generations may live in a more toxic world; living things will die; and the time and money used could have been put to better use. If, however, our suburbanite stands to be punished substantially for leaving the weeds alone, then the application of toxins may be the lesser evil. Battles must be chosen carefully.

Next, let's look at the person who spends nearly all of his time increasing his wealth. He drives several miles to a job he doesn't believe in, eats fatty food, is constantly rushed and anxious, and collapses into a chair to watch television and consume alcohol at the end of his work day. This person is the average American. He is aware his excessive consumerism is rapidly destroying the habitat of most living things, but feels he has no choice. Does he? If he lived a simpler life, consumed less, spent more quality time with others, used his energy for more fulfilling and beneficial activities, could that increase suffering? His adolescent children would certainly tell you that they suffer more when he can no longer send them to private school and buy them expensive clothes. If enough people behaved in a similar fashion, the retailers would lose money. Some would go out of business -- in an ultra-competetive society some might even die of starvation. But ultimately, this scaling back is the only hope we have. The key is, our lifestyles are not sustainable. Not only will future generations not enjoy our present level of luxury, the may suffer greatly due to the lack of the most basic necessities for survival. This lifestyle causes suffering on the most massive scale.

So here is our spiritual mission. Each action that we undertake for the short term, for the long term, matters in the most profound way.