INTERVIEW--Frederic:
We love the story about the man named Mahud who goes through life moving
from one job to another following the suggestions of an angel until,
at last, he becomes a holy man. The tale fits in perfectly with the
situation today when people are moving from one position, and even one
career, to another. What does the word "calling" mean to you
and how has it related to your own work as a monk, a teacher, a musician,
a therapist, and a writer?
Tom: I received a book of the story of Mahud from a woman who lives
in the United Arab Emirates. She told me she gave this story to her
children as they set out on their own life adventures. I love the story
and have used it in several books now. The main point I see is obedience
to one’s calling. A calling is not a career. As the story suggests,
it is an invitation to new life that repeats and changes. Moving from
one job to another doesn’t have to be a bad thing or suggest that
there is something wrong with you. You have to obey your calling. I
try to show in this book how to recognize your calling. You read the
signs, positive and negative, and you always take a chance on life,
no matter how thoughtless and irresponsible it might appear to be. You
live into life, willing to risk and change, rather than hide out in
a job that is familiar and safe. In the story, the river is the flow
of life — and, believe me, it is always flowing. Mahud is always
willing to leap into life, even when all reasonable indications suggest
that he stay put. What do you get from following your calling? A great
paycheck? A corner office? Adulation? Power? Maybe, but maybe not. The
story suggests that you get holiness, a goal not often listed by people
on their career tests these days. But it is all about holiness: being
in tune with life, knowing the security of meaning and value, finding
yourself in giving yourself to others and to life itself.
Frederic: Name the one person who has best modeled for
you "a life work"? I'd also be interested in any biographies,
memoirs, or other genres of writing that have provided inspiration and
encouragement to you on your spiritual journey of discovering what you
were born to do.
Tom: My best model for a life work is my good friend Satish
Kumar, who began his “career” by walking around the world,
without money, plan, or, as he says in the title of his autobiography,
destination. But he has founded two wonderful schools and a great magazine.
He has become a world leader in a spiritually oriented approach to ecology.
I have been inspired by many people and countless books. I’ll just
list a few: Emily Dickinson, who had the courage to go her own way and
didn’t write her poems for a particular audience. She wrote for
eternity. I try to emulate her in this. She also called herself a pagan,
though she attended a Christian Church. I appreciate that achievement.
Igor Stravinsky: he always went his own way and trusted
his own genius. Oscar Wilde: a man who suffered greatly for being who
he was — a highly devout spiritual and gay man — and yet loved
life with a sense of humor.
Martin Sheen: an actor I admired when I first saw him
in film years ago and who puts himself on the line always. A more generous
person I’ve never met, and I’m blessed to have him as a friend.
I don’t know Nicole Kidman, but her acting inspires
me. Her willingness to go for the difficult, challenging, and not always
commercial roles keeps me on course in my own decisions. Artists like
her also keep me from being a therapist in print. I see myself as an
artist, a writer. I feel strongly that I have no message but only the
opportunity to find beautiful words and images for thoughts worth considering.
Frederic: What role does the imagination play in the opus
of getting a life together and becoming a real person? Tom: Imagination
is everything. People seem to think of it as a superficial thing, lighter
than thought and research. I don’t. I see imagination as the most
important power we have. As we imagine the world, so we live and understand.
But a great deal of the imagination that shapes us lies under the surface.
We need to tap that underlying storehouse of images in order to grasp
who we are and where we are headed.
You can train the imagination by giving yourself to the
arts, dreams, mythology, and religious images. I see all these as essentially
connected. To know one, you have to know the others. So I always say,
go to museums and galleries, watch good movies, listen to live music,
watch or engage in dance, take careful note of architecture. Make an
artful home for yourself, full of rich images suited to you and your
family. Discuss your night dreams with those close to you. Don’t
live only on the surface. Don’t be only rational.
Frederic: In this book you write: "Deep is perhaps
the best word to describe the experience of soul — deep feelings,
deep thoughts, deep connections, deep projects." Share with us
a few spiritual practices that can help us to reach this depth dimension
of our experiences or activities.
Tom: The suggestions I just made apply to this one. The
arts can always be a kind of spiritual practice, but you have to go
about them in an appropriate way. Take them seriously. Dreams can be
part of your spiritual practice. You can write them down and create
your own personal scripture of revelations. They are all meaningful.
When you meditate, don’t soar too high. Don’t
worry about distractions; they are the stuff of your soul and tell you
who you are. Don’t try to be good or perfect. Just be. Add some
art and humor to every spiritual practice you have. Don’t make
your spirituality abstract: use music, art objects, color, food. Spirituality
should always begin and end with a full sensual sense of place, body,
and connection. Frederic: What have been the largest surprises in your
path toward a life work? What did you learn about yourself in the process?
Tom: The biggest surprise for me was becoming a father.
I started out wanting to be a priest and spent many years heading in
that direction. Then, after leaving a seminary and religious community,
I wanted to be single. I kept telling friends that I had no desire or
need to be a parent. Then I had a daughter, and my heart erupted. To
this day, if ever I need to know what love means, I look at her. A special
kind of love. I could say the same about being married. I have never
had much hope for marriage, but here I am with a person I love and admire.
What did I learn about myself? Not to take my pronouncements and expectations
too seriously.
Frederic: In the chapter "To Work Is to Pray"
you celebrate mystery as a key element in the spiritual life. Could
you elaborate a bit on this idea? Tom: I think mystery is the very key
to religion and spirituality. If only we allowed God (those of us who
use that name) to be a mystery, rather than some self-important, too
defined idea we have of the divine, we would discover real religion.
To me, religion is not an institution. I still like the word and the
idea of religion. To me, it is a quality of life in which you stand
at the edge of your existence and remain open in mind and heart to the
unknown all around you.
This “sacred ignorance,” as it was called by
Nicolas of Cusa, one of my favorite early Renaissance theologians, is
crucial. I began my book on religion (The Soul’s Religion) with
chapters on emptiness, trying to capture this all-important value. Of
course, I know only too well that most of what goes on under the name
of religion is just the opposite. People don’t want mystery; they
want facts. They don’t want to feel opened up by the mystery of
life and the cosmos; they want to understand it.
I’m in the camp of my two friends of the early sixteenth
century, Erasmus and Thomas More, who wrote about the beauty of foolishness
— the foolishness of not knowing anything, of always seeking, always
wondering, never camped out on anything, never attached to an idea or
system. I like the theology of the Zen Master Shunryu Suzuki. Nothing
to believe in. Nothing special. Always in beginner’s mind. In the
same spirit I am a devotee of Samuel Beckett, who said simply, "Nothing
to be done."
