In Praise of the Holy Fool

"The soul prospers in the failure of perfection."--Thomas Moore

While we may perceive events either as immanent or as transcendent, the soul of a person knows no time but its own. When relating to others, it isn't always easy to open the soul to another, to risk opening the self, hoping that another person will be able to tolerate its sometimes rationality, and sometimes irrationality. It may also be equally difficult to be open, or receptive to the revelations of others.

The light of Oneness not withstanding, there is great temptation to separate, to judge, to make comparisons of these oddities of soul. Yet this mutual vulnerability is one of the great gifts of love. To give another sufficient space in which to live and express one's soul in its reason and unreason, and then to further risk revelations of your self, in all its potential absurdities may be perceived as quite loving.
The courage required for this process is not easy; it is infinitely more demanding than either judgment or comparisons. While most of us contain ourselves fairly well, the soul and its ways eventually surface bringing forth the unexpressed that we sense stirring inside.

We all have to some extent, a sense of the fearfulness of such an enterprise. Oneness by its nature asks that we move aside, that we move beyond with others to a place that may ask a share of soul in its completed form.
 In the story, In Praise of Folly, Erasmus says, "it is precisely in their foolishness that people can become friends and intimates. For the greatest part of mankind are fools... and friendship, you know, is seldom made, except among equals."

As modern thinkers, we may present to the world a well developed intellect, a sense of proportion, but the soul is more fertile in its own imagination, in its own earth, finding value in sometimes irrationality. Perhaps this is in part why great artists and inventive minds seem a bit eccentric or mad to the average onlooker. At times when seized by strong passions, our greatest anxieties often comprise the fear of being seen by others as foolish.
We fear in love, in Oneness that we appear irrational, foolish, but that is just the point. The soul is not the least concerned with reason or intellect. It operates more deeply, and more persuasively. So then, love in Oneness calls for acceptance of a Soul's less rational outposts, a recognition that a heart may contain both love and contempt.

We need not only to know more about ourselves, but also we need to love more of ourselves, in an unsentimental way; that is the way to oneness. Tolerance, "honoring that aspect of the self that may be irrational or extreme is the basis for intimacy," writes Thomas Moore.
We have fewer expectations of perfection, less judgement; less and less are we separated by these notions. We come to recognize that the soul, in its meanderings, tends to move into new and positive areas in spite of, and because of the oddities expressed.
In Oneness a beloved may be surprised by these developments, but not be undone by their unexpected appearance. The soul, the creative being, does prosper within the failures of perfection.

The Prosperity of Perfection

"The soul prospers in the failure of perfection."--Thomas Moore

While we may perceive events as either immanent or as transcendent, the soul of a person knows no time but its own. When relating to others, it isn't always easy to open one's soul to another, to risk opening the self, hoping that another person will be able to tolerate a sometimes rational, and sometimes irrational nature. It may also be equally difficult to be receptive to the revelations of others.

The light of Oneness not withstanding, there is great temptation to separate, to judge, to make comparisons of these oddities of soul. Yet this mutual vulnerability is one of the great gifts of love.
To give another sufficient space in which to live and express one's soul in both its reason and unreason, then to further risk revelations of your self, in all its potential absurdities is a great gift.
The courage required for this is not easy; it is infinitely more demanding than making either judgment or comparison. While most of us contain ourselves fairly well, the soul and its ways eventually surface bringing forth the unexpressed that we sense stirring inside.

We all have to some extent, a sense of the fearfulness of such an enterprise. Oneness by its nature asks that we move aside, that we move beyond moments with others to a place that may ask for a share of soul in its whole form.
In the story, In Praise of Folly, Erasmus says, "it is precisely in their foolishness that people can become friends and intimates. For the greatest part of mankind are fools... and friendship, you know, is seldom made, except among equals."

As modern thinkers, we may present to the world a well developed intellect, a sense of proportion, still the soul is more fertile in its own imagination, in its own earth, finding value in sometimes irrationality. Perhaps this is in part why great artists and inventive minds seem a bit eccentric or mad to the average onlooker.
At times when seized by strong passions, our greatest anxieties often comprise the fear of being seen by others as foolish. We fear in love, in passion, that we appear irrational, foolish even, but that is exactly the point.
The soul is not the least concerned with reason or intellect. It operates more deeply, and more persuasively. So then, love in wholeness calls for acceptance of a Soul's less rational outposts, sometimes recognition that a heart may contain both love and contempt.

We need not only to know more about ourselves, but also we need to love more of ourselves, in an unsentimental way; that is the way to equanimity. Tolerance like patience matters because, "honoring that aspect of the self that may be irrational or extreme is the basis for intimacy," writes Thomas Moore.
With proportionately fewer expectations of perfection, less judgement, less and less are we separated by false notions. We come to recognize that the soul, in its meanderings, tends to move into new and positive areas in spite of, and because of the oddities expressed. Perfection plays no part here.
 In Oneness a beloved may be surprised by these developments, but not undone by their unexpected appearance. The soul, as a creative being, does prosper in the failures of perfection.

Uniquely You

Emotions, and the openness to the inter-twining of them  to discern a sense of deep spirit, a personal sense of the uniquely form  you, is a central task in the spiritual life.
As many religious thinkers have written, it is in the opening of the self, the stillness of the mind that what is essential arises, that enlightenment becomes possible; yet it is not as a striving or as a goal, but as the natural result of a lived life.
By experiences we learn the meaning of ourselves in the world; the oneness of all in our place is what Moore in his books seeks to examine.

He writes that it is not intellect ultimately, but living knowledge that makes a self. Yet, he does at times, fall into philosophical banter. That is his background and his training.
As a Roman Catholic,Moore came of age in the time before the "great transformation" of the Church, before Vatican II, before the rise of Pope John Paul II. His experiences may be unlike other's. Despite this, he offers valuable wisdom about the simplest and yet most complex of life, the human mind.
Writing in his book, The Care of the Soul Moore addresses the deep soul as found in the "emotions, relationships and culture... a way to be spiritual that is honest, close to physical life and emotion... [not]the opposite of spirituality [which] is escape... [Life] is to be made sense of in the depths of experience, in the never ending efforts to make sense of life, and in the ordeals that can be seen as spiritual initiations rather than failures to achieve a self."

In his book, Thomas Moore allows, he searches out within the great tangle of human emotion, of perceptions and feelings, the great  impossible, the paradoxical, and the apparent failures that seem to comprise one's life.
He recommends in response to human emotional suffering "a shift from cure to caring." Trying to be cured might be another type of perfectionism. In the human life, when seen as a sort of comedy, we all fail, we all fall on our faces. Taking ourselves so seriously, we forget that it is human to fail, it is human not to be perfect. 
And it is human to love, even that what we don't fully understand, even that we see as lacking, like a child; still we love, in full knowledge of imperfection. In doing so, we may ultimately learn of a holy foolishness which broadens and deepens our spirituality, making the self more resilient, more durable in the process.

One of the ways through this life process is by emptiness, Sunyata. Moore describes the empty self as not a loss, but a liberation, an opening for the possible. "Spiritual emptiness doesn't lead to resignation, or depression... it gives hope, frees us from anxiety...free from having to be in control."
Yet emptiness doesn't work if it becomes a project, to be controlled and directed. Emptiness is an active stillness, an allowance of what is, or may be.
 It is the perception that an angry bull is charging to you in an arena and stepping aside rather than confronting as it passes by. "Emptiness itself has to be empty." As a way, it is both an art and a practice.

Dogen and the Teacher

"Perfectionists are never satisfied with who they are, or others but are always reaching for a goal and never enjoying the imperfect moment they're in." Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore writes in his book, The Soul's Religion, that one of the goals of the 'educated' is to become perfected, more complete, more whole in themselves. He writes that we must not forget for all the importance of spirit, that bodies are needed; spirits inhabit bodies and an everyday life is lived from them, but what will we, the spirit-body learn, and how will we learn so as to realize the "perfected self"?
In the everyday, complex world of science and technology, the role of pain, of trial and ordeal are seen as experiences to be eliminated, controlled, suppressed; yet Moore argues that these experiences, these moments are vital to a human education. It is experience, simple experience, finally and not intellectual achievement that will bring around a perfected soul, the one which is completed, whole and peaceful.

Zen master, Suzuki in quoting another, Dogen, goes on to say "you will be even the teacher of Shakyamuni Buddha." As bodies are souls whole and complete, we learn in the Dharmakaya that as Suzuki also repeats, 'when you realize Buddha nature, you are the teacher,' so then the best teacher is the one who does not teach, yet who leads, guides, experiences the lessons of his students, and his students experience the lessons of the teacher. In this way teaching is profound with benefit. It is a far and away from the experience, in which some have believed, that the teacher is the expert who pours knowledge into otherwise empty heads.

Thus as Thomas Moore notes from his own life experience, imperfection is a good and valued part of education, of both the student and the teacher. In the best moments of teaching, an alchemy or a deep moment of newness of creation, a mystery transpires between two or more persons engaged in this process of experience and perfection. "When a teacher evokes the deep process of imparting and learning subtle aspects of life's mysteries, the teaching goes on." And like any creative activity, teaching "happens best when a muse is present, initiating something far deeper" in the exchange.

Feminism, a Failure to Appreciate

"Then all of them together, crying loudly, moved to the malevolent shore that awaits anyone who has no fear of God." -- Inferno, Canto III by Dante

In his belief, born of experience first as a cloistered monk and then as a Jungian therapist, Thomas Moore comes now to realize that "what was really at the root of those unsettled lives was religion... I didn't always realize the extent to which spiritual issues were playing a central role... The obvious spiritual problems had to do with disturbing experiences surrounding religion in childhood." In his book, The Soul's Religion, Moore writes "in these ordinary, troubled lives, spirit and psyche were closely connected. In other cases, spiritual issues were more subtle and required a broadening of the idea of spirituality."

Today, society to the extent that it acknowledges religion at all, sees itself "in relation to an image of a "gentleman God,' the grandfather and patriarch." This pushes the feminine into the shadows, hidden beneath the surface of everyday life. Neglected feminine nature in the world is often felt in oppressive and mysterious forces that may make living an everyday life almost impossible. For the feminine energy, like her balance, masculine energy, needs recognition for composure in daily living. Many today neglect, even deny the feminine nature; they are hostile to its alleged weak frailty. Yet many seek its compensations in a professional life that includes care-taking in fields like nursing, elementary school teaching, social work; merely doing this everyday, external work doesn't solve an interior, spiritual lack or need for the feminine energy. There are, Moore notes, countless females who mother and nurture all those they contact almost to death. We often seek to escape them. Allowing the feminine, the Marian, into daily life as a spiritual role or guide "is an effective way to heal" the lack of a divine mother in a man or woman's life. She takes her proper place as an 'avatar' rather than a lived out female image. Then, here she is spirit; she is soul.

"In matters of soul and spirit, things are not always what they might seem." Moore observes, "I have come to understand sexism and violence against women as a spiritual issue, as a failure to appreciate the feminine mysteries" which no amount of nudity, ogling, looking or voyeuristic regard will alleviate. The deepest interior, which cannot be seen, can only be sensed with the soul-heart is at issue. "Today many spiritual passions are disguised in politics, war, money, sex or athletics." Even so, most secular, enlightenment outlets for spiritual passion are inadequate because they address merely a surface issue, meaning that recognition is admitted only indirectly, often unconsciously, so we don't often even grant that they are religious. These modern, secular, indirect forms "siphon off spiritual steam, leaving unsatisfied religious needs."

This loss of recognition of the spiritual, the religious, as an attitude, a way of life, a lifestyle, leads to great degrees of loss, of illness, of alienation in modern life. Some have written of the "sick soul." Many relationships, families and marriages fail "because we now treat them as sociological constructions or psychological arrangements, partnerships, rather than as holy mysteries. As a result we continue to crave religion of the deepest kind, often in disguised form; yet so much of what we try is inadequate, "only increasing the craving and emptiness" of our deepest selves, writes Moore.

In maturity, spiritual growth, like growth in any other area of our life, renders to us a "quest and search." What we discover is a deepening and a broadening of ourself; we are not obliged to a single path, our perceptions deepen, wisdom accrues. We often discover paradoxes at work. How to combine apparent opposites into one coherent whole is our challenge, and our grace. In doing so, we find the gifts of our life.

The Teacher

"Perfectionists are never satisfied with who they are, or others but are always reaching for a goal, and never enjoying the imperfect moment they're in." --Thomas Moore

Moore writes in his book, The Soul's Religion, that one of the goals of the 'educated' is to become perfected, more complete, more whole in themselves. He writes that we must not forget for all the importance of spirit, that bodies are needed; spirits inhabit bodies and an everyday life is lived from them, but what will we, the spirit-body learn, and how will we learn so as to realize the "perfected self"?
In the everyday, complex world of science and technology, the role of pain, of trial and ordeal are seen as experiences to be eliminated, controlled, suppressed; yet Moore argues that these experiences, these moments are vital to a human education. It is experience, simple experience, finally and not intellectual achievement that will bring around a perfected soul, the one which is completed, whole and peaceful.

Zen master, Suzuki in quoting another, Dogen, goes on to say "you will be even the teacher of Shakyamuni Buddha." As bodies are souls whole and complete, we learn in the Dharmakaya, as Suzuki also repeats, 'when you realize Buddha nature, you are the teacher.'
So then the best teacher is the one who does not teach, yet who leads, guides, experiences the lessons of his students, and his students experience the lessons of the teacher. In this way teaching is profound with benefit. It is a far and away from the experience, in which some have believed, that the teacher is the expert who pours knowledge into otherwise empty heads.

Thus as Thomas Moore notes from his own life experience, imperfection is a good and valued part of education, for both the student and the teacher. In the best moments of teaching, an alchemy, or a deep moment of newness of creation, a mystery transpires between two or more persons engaged in this process of experience and perfection. "When a teacher evokes the deep process of imparting and learning subtle aspects of life's mysteries, then teaching goes on." And like any creative activity, teaching "happens best when a muse is present, initiating something far deeper" in the exchange.