HOW TO KNOW IF YOU ARE A CONTEMPLATIVE
How would you know if you are a true contemplative if you are not ‘religious’, i.e. you are not a monk or living a cloistered life?
Years ago, someone tried to explain why a particular group of people misjudged me. They said, “But, Ardis, you are a mystic.”
I had no clue what they were thinking. Were they saying I had magical powers? I wished! Or that I belonged in a monastery? I hoped not!
I have always known I am an introvert. Not shy exactly. I just get drained if I spend too much time with groups of people. Solitude is a place I can think and write and – well, sometimes I just sit. I see the world through metaphor, which confuses many people unless they, too, happen to have a contemplative heart.
There certainly are many contemplatives who choose a monastic lifestyle, joining convents and monasteries. In some cultures and times, people would retreat to a cave to live as a hermit.
Again, that is not me—unless you consider my study a ‘cave.’ But I have learned how to nurture my contemplative heart with time and space and silence, living right where I am with many responsibilities in my community.
I can’t imagine how anything would ever get done if all mystics lived in a cave in the Himalayas.
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE A CONTEMPLATIVE?
To be a contemplative is not about a set of rules or doctrine. There are no courses that confer a certificate of achievement after completion. So what does it mean to be a ‘contemplative?’
To be a contemplative is to treasure solitude and not be lonely. To see things others don’t understand, to hear, and to feel what others find difficult to sense.
A contemplative is often misunderstood.
Being a contemplative is not a career path, but it is a calling. Dogs know this better than we do.
In the same way that we have a child or an artist buried by our doubts, we may have an inner contemplative yearning for expression. It takes practice to listen, observe, and feel beyond our natural senses to discover this Mystic within.
You may wonder why your dance in the world seems to have a different rhythm. Or why you see the world around you differently than your neighbors.
WHAT ARE SOME INDICATIONS OF BEING A CONTEMPLATIVE?
I put together a few signs you may want to consider.
There is no evaluative aspect to this list. Some of you are contemplative by nature; others develop a reflective habit through practice. You may be a farmer or waitress, doctor, or a musician and still have a contemplative chip inside.
Not everyone chooses the contemplative path, the same way not everyone decides to be an athlete.
I don’t spend a lot of time practicing my skills as a surgeon or a pianist, though I can filet a fish and play ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ on the keyboard.
But I do begin every morning with time in silence and meditation. It feels natural for me to embrace my contemplative nature in this way. I live in the monastery of my heart.
You may be more contemplative than you think. We find evidence from our feelings, our choices, our thinking, and our growing awareness of Presence. Here are some signs that you may have an inner Mystic hiding in your inner shadow.
EVIDENCE FROM YOUR FEELINGS
Every time you visit the ocean, your heart melts as surely as the first time you held a new baby…or puppy. All care seems to vanish, if only for a moment. You are more in touch with feelings than you are with the phases of the moon. The essential thing to you in this moment is to stare into a vast sea teeming with invisible life as its waves crash against rocks and ‘be’ with it. Be with it and breathe.
When you attend a Brahms Symphony, the nuances of each theme draw you as you melt into gratitude for the gift of music. The opportunity to schmooze with friends fails to entice you to an afternoon at the pre-concert tea. But to sit for a couple of hours allowing music to be your monastery feels like “home” to your soul.
Your journal isn’t a litany of people you met and things you saw and did, when and where. Instead, it records your tender feelings when you met a homeless beggar and recognized Who he was. There may be intimate reflections on the One you call God or Mystery or Guide. Perhaps there is a simple poem that records how life impacts your heart. Your journal is not a diary. It has become a sacred text.
EVIDENCE FROM YOUR CHOICES
When given a choice between a silent moonlight walk in an open field and listening to a speaker at a local observatory, you can’t get your walking shoes on fast enough. Your heart fills with cosmic wonder as you walk mindfully through a field of wildflowers and dreams.
You would rather dance with the stars shining in your backyard at midnight than in your living room facing a large-screen TV.
When you look through your album of photographs, there are very few shots taken at a football game or family gatherings around a heavily laden table of home-cooked food. Yet it is loaded with images of the roots of a single tree taken from a dozen different angles at different times of the day to capture the effects of shadows on the forest floor.
EVIDENCE FROM YOUR THINKING
If you happen to be on a busy commuter train at the end of the day, instead of planning what to cook for supper, you find yourself staring at feet: tiny sneakers, heavy clay-encrusted work boots, sandals, and shiny black pumps. You ponder the journeys, the hurts, and adventures of the owners of this footwear. You may even feel prayers in your heart as your eyes focus on feet while the rumble of the train fades in the background.
For you, a tree is not just a tree or a potential slab of lumber or a piece of paper. A tree is a family member, a patriarch or matriarch in a Universe to which we all belong.
Your bookshelf holds more Rumi than John Grisham. More Mary Oliver than Steven King.
EVIDENCE OF GROWING MINDFULNESS
Instead of gobbling food as you chat with family and friends, you prefer to spend a few moments to examine the presentation on your plate and the miracle of how it got all the way there in the first place.
You are becoming more and more aware of single breaths— an inhale, an exhale–and especially the space between them where Divinity rests.
Walking becomes less about getting to a destination, but an intentional experience of each step. You are mindful of the earth beneath your feet.
For some of us, we have been walking in our contemplative nature for most of our lives. For others, it may just be awakening with a significant life change like an empty nest, retirement, or widowhood.
If this is true for you, I encourage you to embrace this way of being in the universe. The world needs its contemplatives, especially throughout difficult times.
