Is Spirituality an Escape?

How to be with a troubling world?

I’ve recently been caught up in a familiar spin. Perhaps it began with my friend Robert Saltzman telling me in an email, “I have seen a certain pattern in you over the years that repeats. You almost see through the illusion of the quest and its fulfillment, which is what attracts you to my work, I think. Then, just when I start to feel that you really see it, you seem to pull back and retreat into some nonsense like Rupert [Spira].” Robert suggested that Rupert and I “won’t let the floor truly drop.”

That conversation led to a further dialog between myself and Robert in the comments of one of his recent posts. It all left me wondering what is true and what isn’t, and whether I’m contributing to illusion or doing something else. In one reply to Ellen Chrystal on this thread, I wrote:

It sometimes feels, in myself, like a struggle between rationality and something that is beyond logic and reason. I don't want to be fooled, like the people long ago who thought the earth was the center of the universe, or like the people who believe in fundamentalist religions. And there is a strong tendency toward skepticism and doubt, which I think is good in many ways. But it can also hold us back perhaps from letting go into the full appreciation and expression of what is beyond logic and reason. As I said in my last reply to Robert: When I speak of devotion or bhakti, I don't mean guru devotion. I mean what I might also call love, gratitude, overflowing joy, appreciation, or whole-hearted attention. It's a feeling of the heart towards anything: the rain, the trees, the whole universe. I love singing bhajans and gospel music...not because I take any of the words literally, but because it evokes and expresses something deep in the heart. Perhaps such things as devotion or beauty or love can't really be subjected to rational scrutiny. I mean, they can be. Science can study how listening to Mozart affects the brain, and evolutionary biology can speculate on why humans create religions. And that has its place. But in so doing, something alive and vital is obviously left out, namely the experience itself, which is ultimately impossible to pin down with words or explanations.

And then, at the same time as this dialog with Robert was going on, I was taking in the rising reality of what looks to me like the onset of authoritarian fascism here in the US, and the many disturbing things that our president and his administration are doing, most of which I find heart-breaking and deeply troubling, not to mention the ongoing horror show in the Middle East and Ukraine and elsewhere on this planet.

I don’t want to ignore the world or turn away. But I don’t want to be pulled down into the madness of it either. Karl Marx famously wrote, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.” I don’t want to offer people false or illusory comfort or an intoxicating or addictive escape from a grim reality. But I have a deep sense of a peace and freedom that is untouched by the world and a way of being “in the world but not of the world” that I feel is perhaps the deepest healing we can offer to the world because it goes to the root of the problems.

So, all of this was swirling around. Round and round goes the mind. The body contracts and tightens. Feelings of anger and judgment arise, and I seem to lose touch with love and joy.

But then, miracle of miracles, I stop and sit quietly and simply feel the open, spacious aliveness and presence of this one bottomless moment here and now. And the whole conundrum disappears. And I know in my heart without a doubt that this openness, this stillness, is the deepest truth. It is where I want to come from, and what I want to communicate, this possibility of peace and unconditional love that is always right here, at once boundless and most intimate.

And if anger or fear or despair is showing up, eventually, I remember the possibility of allowing both the label and the storyline to drop away and simply being the energetic-sensory-somatic experiencing of this, with no gap (no “me” being with “it,” and no “it” troubling “me”), without resisting the bare sensations or trying to change any of it, but simply allowing it all to unfold and reveal itself and eventually dissolve.

I don’t want to turn away from national and global events. The world is real enough and the immense suffering matters. And I find the world drama interesting. I continue to listen to diverse voices, and I continue to advocate the vital importance in a democracy of breaking out of polarized media silos and listening to opposing views, as well as the importance of an open mind and heart and having compassion for all of us being as we are—yes, even the folks whose actions we despise, recognizing that their worldview and behavior is the result of infinite causes and conditions, that none of this could be otherwise at this moment than exactly how it is, and that the light and dark go together in unfathomable ways.

But in advocating open listening to diverse views, I’m not advocating neutrality or passivity. I think some things do need to be strongly opposed and resisted—and what’s happening in America now certainly, in my view, needs to be called out and resisted. An alternative needs to be offered. I no longer feel called to political activism, but I’m grateful that many people are, and I hope the resistance will be carried out with dignity, nonviolence, humor and compassion, and not with hatred and violence. In my experience, hate breeds hate, and violence breeds violence. And maybe the best thing that I can offer is not my opinions on the issues of the day, but simply a nondual spiritual perspective.

Having a nondual perspective that recognizes impermanence, wholeness and unresolvability, along with wholesome practices such as meditation that can help calm and balance the nervous system, facilitate greater awareness of our triggers and habitual tendencies, open us to the spaciousness of presence, and increase our ability not to fall into reactive and destructive habitual patterns, can be a genuine contribution to everything not blowing up. Each of us affects the whole world and everyone we meet. We either contribute to the toxicity and delusion or we embody a different possibility. And none of us is perfect. Most of us, certainly including myself, fall at times into reactivity and delusion. But it’s never too late to wake up.

A few treasured quotes in that regard:

The obstacle is the path.
— Zen proverb

When we maintain awareness, whether we know it or not, healing is taking place...a door that has been shut begins to open…As the door opens, we see that the present is absolute and that, in a sense, the whole universe begins right now, in each second. And the healing of life is in that second of simple awareness...Healing is always just being here, with a simple mind.
— Charlotte Joko Beck

Awareness is like the sun. When it shines on things, they are transformed.
— Thich Nhat Hanh

We’re not hopelessly lost ever because there’s always this possibility of a fresh listening, a coming to. It’s a thought that we’re hopelessly lost, and to hear that as a thought and not to be fooled by it.
— Wayne Coger

Nothing is holding us back from awakening...We are the one who imprisons and we are the one who liberates. When we accept that responsibility we have finally gained spiritual maturity.
— Anam Thubten

Another thing I’ll say—it has always amazed me how the universe seems to provide just what is needed at the right moment. In the midst of the conundrums I mentioned, several times the universe knocked at my door with a perfectly timed gift. The first time was when UPS delivered a package I wasn’t expecting from a man I was on a retreat with once at Springwater, Chick Atkins, who was sending me a copy of his book, An Unlikely Guru: How a Neurotic Jewish Real Estate Developer from New Jersey Found Enlightenment (And How You Can, Too). I opened it at random and read a part that totally stopped my mind and instantly brought me Home.

I also discovered and began reading a beautiful book called Inside the Grass Hut by Zen teacher Ben Connelly, unpacking an old Zen poem by Shitou that I’ve always loved. This book touches me deeply.

And then earlier this evening, my dear friend Hanuman, a satsang teacher in the Bay Area, sent out one of his occasional “Musings from the Monastery,” and it arrived in my in-box at exactly the right moment:

I Am With You Wherever You Are!

There is no escape from Love,
There is no East or West for Peace and Freedom.
No matter where you go, It is always with you.
Satsang is the reminder that you are at Home,
That you are the Home itself,
So you can’t return “back” from Satsang, it is your nature.
This experience can’t be forgotten.
That which can be forgotten is forgotten by the mind,
But the mind has no access to this experience.

But be careful and vigilant.
You will keep the problems most dear to you
and so your old friends, your wicked habits, the asuras,
will come back and invite you to suffer again.
They are very strong, and so you must be.
Break those old habits and you are Free;
so only travel with those in the same boat,
only associate with those going in the same direction.

Go to Truth at any cost, always Keep Quiet.

— Papaji, from This, page 69

Help arrives in many forms, waking me up again and again.

The knot I can get into over politics and its relation to spirituality is a familiar one:

You will keep the problems most dear to you
and so your old friends, your wicked habits, the asuras,
will come back and invite you to suffer again.

“The problems most dear to you.” Indeed! We all have our favorites. Problems that seem to reliably pull us back from dissolving into the openness where “There is no East or West.”

Are we afraid of this happiness?

I don't want to be fooled, like the people long ago who thought the earth was the center of the universe. And so I retreat into doubt and skepticism. And then I wake up again to the ungraspable vastness. I read the news from various sources and feel pulled to speak out, but I hold back, sensing that my role is something else. I write these Substacks. I meet people on Zoom. I really don’t know why I do any of it. It’s simply what I can’t not do. Or I could say, there’s no “me” doing it. It’s simply what happens, all of it. And I have no idea why I’m sharing it with all of you. But somehow, I feel we are not separate. We are one whole movement unfolding itself, and we’re all part of the dance, and each of us is moved to dance in a unique way, and it all belongs.

So here it is, conundrums and awakenings, world events and that which is untouched by anything that happens.

with Love for all…

---

Post-publication addendum and clarification (9/11/25):

I'd like to clarify a few things. First, Robert and I are dear friends. He has challenged me in ways I deeply appreciate, and I heard what he said to me not as a judgment but as an offering. To give you a fuller sense of what happened, this whole thing began when I sent Robert the link to a YouTube video of Rupert Spira that was titled “The Teacher Is the Final Disappointment.” I knew Robert would be critical of much of it, but I thought it showed Rupert’s humility and the fact that he doesn’t want to be people’s teacher forever. I even thought Robert might resonate with Rupert’s welcoming of a retreat participant’s disappointment with Rupert and with the teaching, which Rupert told her was an important step in not looking outward for the answers. Perhaps I thought this would soften Robert’s opinion of Rupert. Or perhaps I just wanted to poke the bear. Or maybe both. Honestly, I don’t know why I sent it. But I did.

Robert sent me an email back in which he criticized many things about the video, some of which I agreed with and some I saw differently. And he also wrote, "You know I love you, so I will be frank. I have seen a certain pattern in you over the years that repeats. You almost see through the illusion of the quest and its fulfillment, which is what attracts you to my work, I think. Then, just when I start to feel that you really see it, you seem to pull back and retreat into some nonsense like Rupert. Of course, that's just how I see it, and you may disagree entirely…"

Robert went on to discuss and criticize Rupert’s response to the woman in the video, saying: "Rupert reframes disappointment as 'progress,' names it a 'dark night of the soul,' and finally assures the student that 'love can’t be taken away.' You’re told not to rely on the teaching, but also told that your very disappointment is a sign of growth. You’re told not to project, but assured that love and friendship will remain. He won’t let the floor truly drop. This is exactly the point where, as I see it, you hesitate. You come right up to the edge of seeing that there is no redemption story—not in spiritual life, not in personhood itself—and then you retreat into voices like Rupert’s that let you preserve just enough promise to make it bearable. I don’t blame you. It’s uncomfortable to let the story die entirely without replacement. But that’s where my work lives: not in promise, not in consolation, not in any 'dark night' that secretly confirms a coming dawn. Just in the end of waiting for the plot to redeem itself."

So that's what he meant by letting the floor drop. Our exchange continued, all in a very open and loving spirit. And for the record, I don't find Robert's message depressing. Far from it, I find it liberating. We have much more in common than not.

In the comments to this post, someone mentioned having settled on a “desacralized version of Pascal's wager,” noting that folks like Robert “are not wrong to point out that the all too certain and solid formulations 'spiritual' people are sometimes drawn to can be last-ditch anchors of a floundering self. But so can 'rational' doubt: ‘I'm no dupe!’”

I replied that in terms of Pascal's wager, if we substitute something like "radiant presence" or "intelligence-energy" (which would both be subtle comforting glosses in Robert's view) for God, and if we substitute heaven on earth for heaven in the afterlife, then I'd say that's a good wager. And that's more my inclination, maybe because I have that devotional streak, which Robert does not. And I agreed that rational doubt and skepticism can also be an anchor. They have been for me.

The person also shared this beautiful quote from Toni Packer:

No need to bother one’s head about what has been said. Being present is all of oneself, not just the head! We are this entire living creation from moment to moment without a break. Walk innocently through the fields, into the woods, along the ocean beach or in the city streets with the sheer joy of aliveness, its infinite movements and sounds and fragrance—the love of it all without making a thing out of it!. Are we here?"

— from "Enlightenment" in her book The Wonder of Presence

Yes!

Oh, and here’s the full drawing that I used part of at the beginning:

Thank you all of you for being here. 🙏❤️