The Possibility of Change

For any lasting transformation to take place, we must first admit into the mind the possibility of change.

Simple as that seems, it is the first place we get hung up. Whether we are looking at our spiritual depths or trying to improve some exterior aspect of ourselves, we are unable to move if we cannot imagine the possibility of movement. It is even an understatement to say this applies only to transformation; we cannot do anything unless we can find mental congruence in the possibility of doing it. If I cannot entertain the vision of washing the dishes, I guarantee I will not wash the dishes.

Now maybe here is the gap between "the secret" and reality: simply imagining does not make it so. Imagining the dishes sparkling in the cabinets will invoke the powers of the universe to cut through grease and dirt. But maybe the real secret is that accepting the possibility -- experiencing the possibility not merely as a wish and a dream but as a genuine felt sense of a conceivable future -- maybe the real secret is that is the hardest part.

Our minds have evolved to identify desires and form plans of action, or bodies have evolved to act, and in postmodern western society resources and opportunities are not scarce. But that culture is also jaded; it has been there and done that and it knows that the individual is impotent against the powers that be. Science has shown us the limits of reality and religion has taught us the reaches of god; and in the narrow space between we have left but little space for possibility.

Maybe before we can change anything in the world, we need to find in our hearts the real possibility of change and hold on to that like the fate of the world depends on it. Because it just might.

A Higher We

There's an almost overwhelming amount of attention in postmodern spiritual movements given to the "higher self." Each brand has it's own name, but the concept is the same: it's the highest good in each of us. Unfortunately, postmodern spiritual movements are inextricably wedded to the postmodern worldview at the center of which lies: the self. The old notion of the universe revolving around earth has become very personal: the universe revolves around me. For a society as highly individualized as we are, to reinforce the individual as central to spirituality is misguided at best.

What we are looking for is not the emergence of a higher self. The quality of the self is determine by the manner in which we engage in life, the purity of our motives and the honesty of our intentions. There is nothing higher we need invoke, nothing outside our incarnate perspective to look to for guidance, for that only gives us excuse to choose other than what we know to be right. By constantly looking inward, we skew our perspective and becomes hopelessly lost in a sea of narcissism. The higher self has emerged, and we alternately deny the responsibility and indulge the self-importance it grants us.

What we should be looking towards is a greater emergence: the emergence of a "higher we." This is a reunion of the long-estranged selves of humanity in which the best motives and perspectives of the many evolved individuals come together according to the principle that the whole is greater than but not separate from the sum of its parts. The age of the individual has denied the collective its hold as we have emerged from the grips of identity-less existence. But now that we have so strongly found ourselves, we desperately need to reconnect with our human family in order to reestablish the values that will preserve and evolve human existence.

But we have so many highly evolved cultural inoculations against the hold of the collective that have the unfortunate side effect of crippling our ability to connect with others. Outrage, political correctness, flatland pluralism, the sense of needing to be right...We know we are dealing with people as shrewd and individualistic as ourselves and this has engendered fear and an almost atavistic suspicion of others. Sadly, this suspicion is often enough justified that we remain convinced that it is necessary.

And in so doing, we neglect our basic need to commune at a deep level with others. And not just that, but a primal urge to evolve as a race collective. We are so good at ontologizing our experience that it's almost clinical: we forget we are talking about deep human needs and inarticulable human experiences that combine in the crucible of human contact. And its messy. And difficult. And beautiful.

And so we deprive ourselves of the ecstasy that was always part of the spiritual endeavor, the birth or realization of something transcendent between people. We don't merely lose out on experience, we deprive ourselves the support of existential co-conspirators who share the knowledge of the shared reality and scared mystery of the occasion and can make calls to action and integrity as a result.

But the answer isn't to bring back old forms of collectivity; we are correct in our assessment of their dangers and false claims. The answer is to find new forms of collective emergence -- to come together with others in different ways to create an opening for a new emergence. If you don't feel the fear rising in your throat at that, then you don't really understand what it means: to stand naked and bare, not just in front of god, but each other. To trust, deeply and intimately without expectation of affirmation or reward. To remain sufficiently free of individual and collective ego in order to fuse at the level of deep commonality while igniting the unbridled fire of the authentic individual.

The question isn't, "Wouldn't that be cool?" Though it definitely is. The question is, what kind of culture would emerge from a society capable of engaging as deeply with the collective self as we are with our individual selves. And maybe the answer is: try it out and see.