A great read

A Hidden Wholeness

Parker Palmer

            A Hidden Wholeness, by Parker Palmer, is aptly named in that the journey toward becoming whole must be sought after in order to be found. It is hidden. It does not sneak up on us unannounced and somehow bury itself into our being without our knowledge or permission. In most cases, it requires an effort that at times seems impossible.  The author began his own journey into wholeness from the depths of a long enduring clinical depression.  His painful journey is the seedbed from which this book springs. It is not theory.  It is not merely anecdotal.  It is an account of things learned, of principles and practices applied, and the transformation that can take place when one decides to take the journey toward wholeness.  This is his description of that journey.

            Wholeness does not mean perfection: it means embracing brokenness as an integral part of life. Knowing this gives me hope that human wholeness-mine, yours, ours-need not be a utopian dream, if we can use devastation as a seedbed for new life. 

Becoming a “whole” person is certainly not automatic. It is the result of fearlessly searching for and accepting the truth about ourselves, and being willing to embrace that truth, no matter how unpleasant the process may be. The bottom line is that we must be willing to practice personal honestly instead of ignoring, burying, and stifling our inmost being.  It is the only way to achieve wholeness.

Themes

There are several significant themes in this book, any of which could be a book of its own.  Palmer is, obviously, writing out of his experience, but it is deeper than a simple story of how I was transformed from the depths of depression.  He has such a good grasp on the psychological, spiritual and physical aspects of becoming a whole person.  Here are a few of the notable themes in A Hidden Wholeness that are impacting my life.

1.     The True Self.  Palmer says that we find evidence of a “true self” when we identify and experience life events that are not explainable in terms of biology, psychology, and sociology alone. They are not the whole of who we are.  Our own self-awareness confronts things and wrestles with who we are on the inside that can’t be explained by science alone.  There is a temptation within  that would urge us to give up, lose our desire for life, and sink in despair if it weren’t for that life force that will not let us die. 

Our true self is assaulted by life and forming forces, both without and within, are at work to rob us of our true self….that for which we were created.  Racism, sexism, economic injustice, and other social cancers assail us.  Jealousy, resentment, self-doubt, fear and other demons attack our inner life.  These things that attack our true self, also can lead us into, and keep us in depression.  Palmer’s description of his depression is excellent:

            But the strongest evidence for true self comes from seeing what happens when we try to live as if we did not have one, a lesson I learned on my journey with clinical depression.` Depressions come from a variety of causes, of course. Some result from genetic bad luck or imbalanced brain chemistry and must be treated with drugs. But others result from burying true self so deep that life becomes one long, dark night of the soul. My depression was of that kind: it responded to drugs only temporarily, returning again and again until I embraced my own truth.

2.    Community of Solitudes.  Palmer calls this, “learning to be alone in the company of others.”  I love that.  Being alone together is likely the strength of this book as it may be compared to other works on the themes:  depression, formation, soul care, the inner life and spiritual direction.  Palmer’s view of solitude is not to be sequestered in some off the beaten path place or environment.  It is not what is typically thought of as a monastic existence (though that concept is often greatly misunderstood).  Solitude is not necessarily living apart from society, but rather it means that we never live apart from our true self.  It isn’t about the absence of other people, it is about being fully present with ourselves, whether or not people are around.  By the same token, being in community does not mean we are always (or nearly always) with people.  It means that we never lose the awareness that we are connected to each other. It is being fully open to, and engaging in the reality of relationships, whether or not we are alone.  Palmer says, “the soul is shy.”  Meaning that we must learn these elements and principles of solitude if we are to give our souls an avenue to make itself known! 

Formation happens in this context of being in community and solitude….being alone together!  It is when our lives have the opportunity to conform to the shape of our souls.  It is not about adhering to a set of rules, beliefs or accepted practices.

Parker’s description and treatment of solitude and community are worth the read.  It is sometimes said that in nearly any book, 80% of the benefit can be found in 20% of the copy.  This book stretches those percentage considerably, but this theme is definitely a strength of his work.

3.    Circles of Trust.  Circles of Trust are the methodology Palmer often uses on retreats.  It is essentially that same method of group direction that we have practiced here together.  His insight helped me to see the depth and the importance of such experiences. After reading this book, calling the activity of “group spiritual direction” an exercise, is too trivial and doesn’t account for the profound change and formation that can happen when it is properly employed.  It is actually a way of doing life together.  Again, I love his take and his insight coming from his own place of darkness, pain and need.

I want to include in this book report an extended quotation.  It simply is too good to shorten or to leave out.  This alone, should inspire you to, not only read the book, but to absorb it.  This is Palmer’s comparison of sitting with a dying person, and the two principles that should be the same when we are doing small group (circles of trust) spiritual direction.  Again…I am being redundant, but this is worth the book!

Circles of Trust:  Like sitting with a dying person

When we sit with a dying person, we gain two critical insights into what it means to "be alone together." First, we realize that we must abandon the arrogance that often distorts our relationships- the arrogance of believing that we have the answer to the other person's problem. When we sit with a dying person, we understand that what is before us is not a "problem to be solved" but a mystery to be honored. As we find a way to stand respectfully fully on the edge of that mystery, we start to see that all of our relationships would be deepened if we could play the fixer role less frequently. Second, when we sit with a dying person, we realize that we must overcome the fear that often distorts our relationships-the fear that causes us to turn away when the other reveals something too vexing, painful, or ugly to bear. Death may be all of this and more. And yet we hold the dying person in our gaze, our hearts, our prayers, knowing that it would be disrespectful to avert our eyes, that the only gift we have to offer in this moment is our undivided vided attention. When people sit with a dying person, they know that they are doing more than taking up space in the room. But if you ask them to describe what that "more" is, they have a hard time finding the right words. And when the words come, they are almost always some variant on "I was simply being present."

Deep Speaks To Deep

“No fixing, no saving, no advising, no setting each other straight.”  The rule is simple, but abiding by it proves challenging.  We all tend to have some arrogance….and it desperately wants to find its way to the surface in our exchanges with others.

In circles of trust…we speak our own truth.  The deeper your issues go, the less likely that any advice I would give would make much of a difference.  Some Native American tribes use the “talking stick” approach.  It works much the same way.  Whoever is holding the stick is the only one who speaks.  The others in the circle, are there to listen, and to enter into the journey of the one who is speaking.

This, as much as anything in the book, has shaped my view of spiritual direction, and in so doing, has opened me to a new realization of how God longs to sit with me.  Not as a judge who is weighing the merit of what I say and do, but as a loving Father who desires to spend time with me….listening to me, without the compulsion of fixing, scolding or punishing me for my obvious inadequacies.  It has given me encouragement to just be open and honest…to not be afraid to look inside.  Lots of people in my profession and in my personal relationship have given me tons of answers, opinions and corrections…in other words:  THE RIGHT ANSWERS!  Maybe what I’ve needed most is to be heard, and accepted, and loved.  No strings attached.

Book report:  Mark Morgan (The Gatekeeper)