It is Christmas-time. Gram has been on my mind. Mary Jane Lynch, known affectionately as “Ma” and “Gram”, was the matriarch of my father’s side of the family, and grandmother to me. She died this August, just a few months shy of her 90th birthday. Gram lived a good life. Everyone who knew her remembers her as one of the most genuinely good, loving, tolerant, and kind people they have ever known. Gram died as peacefully as a person can, surrounded by all of her living children, in her home on Lake Ontario. Many of her children and grandchildren experienced mysterious sensations that night, just prior to and at the moment of her passing. It seems as though many of Gram’s offspring were tuned in as she made the transition from this world to the next. She made that leap surrounded by love and grace – a beautiful ending to a life so well-lived.
Mary Jane was a staple in all of our lives. She was always there to answer the phone, always willing to listen, always curious about the details of your life, be they happy or fraught with challenges. Mary Jane – “Gram” – always sent visitors away with little gifts – bars of her beloved Yardley’s of London soaps (lavender and oatmeal were her favorites), boxes of tea, small stuffed animals or trinkets from the hospital gift shop where she volunteered for over 40 years. As my family marks this first Christmas without Gram at the helm, five words of hers, in particular, ring in my ears.
Ever since Christmas morning this year, when I awoke at 3 a.m. and opened both journal and Bible, as if moved by some invisible force, a realization has begun to crystallize – one which continues to arise in conversations without my prompting or forcing it. And that realization keeps turning me back towards one of Gram’s most salient lessons. First, the realization: most of the world’s great spiritual traditions teach that the ultimate goal of a human life is to love, to show compassion, to practice gratitude, and to sew peace. Yet there is a new theology – or perhaps, more accurately, ideology – afoot in American culture that purports to originate from ancient spiritual wisdom, but which, upon closer look, construes life’s ultimate goal in a very different way. I am speaking of the strain of thought associated with the “Law of Attraction”, “The Secret”, and any number of related short-hands for this new notion of manifesting abundance in one’s life.
The idea of living in an infinitely abundant universe, rather than a universe defined by scarcity, certainly seems life-giving and generally positive. If we believe in abundance, won’t we be more likely to share, to accept difference, to behave as though there is room and resources enough for all of us at the table of Life? And certainly, from a spiritual perspective, if we believe that each life in this world holds value, then do we not, by extension, also believe in an abundant source for all creation – a source that extends abundant love, purpose, and value to each being that is created? If we answer yes to both of these questions, then, O.K., perhaps we can agree that there are – in theory – grounds for a connection between universal notions of spirit and the notion of abundance.
Where things get warped, however, is where this spiritual connotation of abundance gets construed to signify material abundance, and, moreover, where a cause-and-effect cycle is preached, in which, if we only ask fervently and sincerely enough for everything our hearts desire, and if we only apply enough will to our envisioning of those desires as already manifested, then those desires will in fact be granted to us by a Universe or God that has more in common with Santa Claus than with any notion of spirit or source with which I am familiar.
At the core of this “misconstrual” (declaring that a word, just for now) are two key problems. One: There is a part of each of us that is like a “hungry ghost”. This concept comes from Buddhism, and describes the condition of being driven by an insatiable hunger for some acquisition, some pleasure, some fulfillment. This drive originates from our reptilian brain, and becomes a fixation thanks to our mind’s obsession with – and, at times, our body’s chemical dependency on – the object of our desires. It is worth noting that this drive, left unchecked, is bottomless. Meaning, there is no end to our desires, to our hunger. Were we to get what we wished for based on the terms of this Law of Attraction, we would wind up like hoarders, socked in by more wish-fulfillment than we could possibly know what to do with. There is an unmistakable undercurrent of greed, then, at play in this Law of Attraction ideology.
Two: All we have to do is glance back at our own lives to discover that each time we have not gotten what we thought we wanted in life, we have instead encountered outcomes or experiences that transcended our sense of what was possible, survivable, or desirable. These are the very experiences from which, so often, we learn the most. We are like children – we “grown-ups”: we think we know what we want, and we want it with a profound longing. We think getting what we want will solve our problems, will make us happy. But, like children, our notion of what we want is limited by our blind spots, by our fears, by our expectations, by our fixed notions of our identity, by the blind pull of our habits, and even by the examples by which we are surrounded. Not getting what we want can be the greatest blessing of all. It can open invisible doors, awaken new callings, offer unprecedented opportunities for growth. And whether or not you believe in the existence of a spiritual dimension to our universe, I think most of us would agree that when we look back on our lives from a bit of a distance, there emerges a pattern of crazy-wisdom or divine logic to the way things unfolded – a pattern that would have never manifested were we in utter control of the course of our lives.
And so, for these two reasons especially, I am unsettled by the ideology of “abundance” as it is being sold in New Age as well as Christian circles today. Were it not being swallowed wholesale and touted so confidently by so many, including those in positions of great influence, I would feel less urgency to call it out. But I seem to encounter “Law of Attraction-speak” at every turn, and I worry for the greed, discontent, and spiritual immaturity we are fomenting among ourselves through this supposedly spiritual philosophy.
Which brings me back to Mary Jane. Her most lasting lesson to me over the past 6 months, during a period of tremendous upheaval and transition in my own personal and professional life, has been this: Mary Jane knew how to be content with what she had. She was in love with her life. She was an artist when it came to appreciating the details of life – the embroidery on a cloth napkin, the hint of almond in a cup of tea, the taste and texture of a cheese sandwich. What she had – what she already had – was enough for her. She was not concerned with acquiring more (save little boxes of cookies or tea, or little doodads to give as gifts). She took as her work the task of loving the people, place, and causes to which she was committed, and loving them well. And, I should add, she did not harbor resentment toward the challenges that arose in her life; she accepted them as part of the journey, and dedicated herself to showing up to meet those challenges day by day.
All the energy that Mary Jane could have invested in manifesting bottomless desires was instead freed up - thanks to her humble gift of fulfillment - to be applied toward showing real concern for her family members, friends, and for those she encountered in her daily life. The last time I saw her alive, she took the time to share what she knew might be parting words with my brother, my sister, and me. The crux of her message was this (and I know she said these words verbatim more than once): “Be good to each other.” She uttered these words the way a mother might when scolding a child who has misbehaved – with an arresting gravity, lingering on each word so that it sounded more like, “Beeeeeee-gooooood to eachotherrrr.” Mary Jane’s wisdom was that the way to abundance is through committing to loving and nurturing what you already have, if what you have is fundamentally good and life-giving - and, yes, even when it is frustrating and challenging.
I was put in mind of this lesson, and of how it goes against the grain of “Law of Attraction” ideology, as I read the story of Jesus’s birth in the Book of Luke on Christmas morning. I was surprised to discover that Joseph and Mary had traveled to Bethlehem in order to participate in a census, when Mary went into labor under less than ideal circumstances. I thought about why – whether you take the Christ story as historical fact, as metaphor, or as spiritual truth – why God chose to become flesh via the portal of a humble, working class, initially unwed couple. I became struck by the link between humility and surrender. The humbler we are, the more capable we are of surrendering to a wisdom greater than our own at work in the courses our lives take. This capacity for surrender renders us open to the gifts embedded in each experience (no matter how harrowing), including the ways in which we become agents for outcomes that extend beyond our own lives.
Conversely, the more fixated we become on the narrow scope of our present set of desires, the more likely we are to operate as though our will alone can determine the course of our lives. This approach breeds an acquisitive drive, an implicit sense of entitlement to the sought-after fruits of our labor, and a kind of mania defined by believing the full burden of one's future rests on his or her shoulders alone. This potent trio tends to sew sneaky seeds of hubris within us, and - perhaps even more damaging - can lead (I might add from personal experience) to both burn-out, and to a perpetual sense of poverty regarding one's present-moment circumstances.
This realization - regarding the link between humility and surrender, and the effect of our capacity for both on our lives - led me to reflect upon our culturally ubiquitous ideology of “abundance” vis a vis the Law of Attraction. At its heart, the Law of Attraction claims that personal will can yield the manifestation of our desires, and, by extension, that we “deserve” the fulfillment of our desires as we understand them. I would even argue that this ideology suggests that we know as much in our heart of hearts about what is good for us, about what we are capable of, and about what we deserve, as does God, the Universe, spirit, or however one may conceive of the larger energetic body out of which we were created. Implicit in these teachings is the message that each of us humble humans is on par with the higher intelligence and power out of which the universe and all of life was created, and through which our lives unfold. I have to testify that, from my own experience, and from compassionate observation of the experiences of those around me, such a teaching gives short shrift to the miracle of our fragility, of our imperfection, and to the not-knowing which breaks our hearts open to life's greatest lessons and most tremblingly intimate encounters - with each other, and with mystery.
If Mary Jane - a woman who, while she lived a good life, by no means led a charmed life - were here, and if I were to ask her for her take on all of this “Law of Attraction” business, I doubt she would say anything judgmental about those who invest in this paradigm - and indeed, I have been known to fall sway to the lure of this way of thinking myself. Instead, I suspect Mary Jane would pause for a moment, tilt her head slightly downward and set her gaze on some invisible distance (as she often did when preparing to dispense one of her hard-earned jewels of wisdom), and invoke her signature mantra: “Just beeeee goooood to each other.” Her own storied journey through loss, suffering, love, and joy had led her to this one, essential conclusion.
I aim to carry her wisdom forward, and pray for the grace to live these words half as well as she did. To do just that would amount to an embarrassment of riches.
P.S. I would like to wish a special thanks to Jessica McFarland, one of my favorite bloggers (http://encampmentsinsitu.blogspot.com/), thinkers, and human beings, for a conversation that helped crystallize these thoughts, and to my dear Uncle Brian Lynch, for the above wedding photo of Gram and Gramps. Deep thanks to you both.
Mary Jane was a staple in all of our lives. She was always there to answer the phone, always willing to listen, always curious about the details of your life, be they happy or fraught with challenges. Mary Jane – “Gram” – always sent visitors away with little gifts – bars of her beloved Yardley’s of London soaps (lavender and oatmeal were her favorites), boxes of tea, small stuffed animals or trinkets from the hospital gift shop where she volunteered for over 40 years. As my family marks this first Christmas without Gram at the helm, five words of hers, in particular, ring in my ears.
Ever since Christmas morning this year, when I awoke at 3 a.m. and opened both journal and Bible, as if moved by some invisible force, a realization has begun to crystallize – one which continues to arise in conversations without my prompting or forcing it. And that realization keeps turning me back towards one of Gram’s most salient lessons. First, the realization: most of the world’s great spiritual traditions teach that the ultimate goal of a human life is to love, to show compassion, to practice gratitude, and to sew peace. Yet there is a new theology – or perhaps, more accurately, ideology – afoot in American culture that purports to originate from ancient spiritual wisdom, but which, upon closer look, construes life’s ultimate goal in a very different way. I am speaking of the strain of thought associated with the “Law of Attraction”, “The Secret”, and any number of related short-hands for this new notion of manifesting abundance in one’s life.
The idea of living in an infinitely abundant universe, rather than a universe defined by scarcity, certainly seems life-giving and generally positive. If we believe in abundance, won’t we be more likely to share, to accept difference, to behave as though there is room and resources enough for all of us at the table of Life? And certainly, from a spiritual perspective, if we believe that each life in this world holds value, then do we not, by extension, also believe in an abundant source for all creation – a source that extends abundant love, purpose, and value to each being that is created? If we answer yes to both of these questions, then, O.K., perhaps we can agree that there are – in theory – grounds for a connection between universal notions of spirit and the notion of abundance.
Where things get warped, however, is where this spiritual connotation of abundance gets construed to signify material abundance, and, moreover, where a cause-and-effect cycle is preached, in which, if we only ask fervently and sincerely enough for everything our hearts desire, and if we only apply enough will to our envisioning of those desires as already manifested, then those desires will in fact be granted to us by a Universe or God that has more in common with Santa Claus than with any notion of spirit or source with which I am familiar.
At the core of this “misconstrual” (declaring that a word, just for now) are two key problems. One: There is a part of each of us that is like a “hungry ghost”. This concept comes from Buddhism, and describes the condition of being driven by an insatiable hunger for some acquisition, some pleasure, some fulfillment. This drive originates from our reptilian brain, and becomes a fixation thanks to our mind’s obsession with – and, at times, our body’s chemical dependency on – the object of our desires. It is worth noting that this drive, left unchecked, is bottomless. Meaning, there is no end to our desires, to our hunger. Were we to get what we wished for based on the terms of this Law of Attraction, we would wind up like hoarders, socked in by more wish-fulfillment than we could possibly know what to do with. There is an unmistakable undercurrent of greed, then, at play in this Law of Attraction ideology.
Two: All we have to do is glance back at our own lives to discover that each time we have not gotten what we thought we wanted in life, we have instead encountered outcomes or experiences that transcended our sense of what was possible, survivable, or desirable. These are the very experiences from which, so often, we learn the most. We are like children – we “grown-ups”: we think we know what we want, and we want it with a profound longing. We think getting what we want will solve our problems, will make us happy. But, like children, our notion of what we want is limited by our blind spots, by our fears, by our expectations, by our fixed notions of our identity, by the blind pull of our habits, and even by the examples by which we are surrounded. Not getting what we want can be the greatest blessing of all. It can open invisible doors, awaken new callings, offer unprecedented opportunities for growth. And whether or not you believe in the existence of a spiritual dimension to our universe, I think most of us would agree that when we look back on our lives from a bit of a distance, there emerges a pattern of crazy-wisdom or divine logic to the way things unfolded – a pattern that would have never manifested were we in utter control of the course of our lives.
And so, for these two reasons especially, I am unsettled by the ideology of “abundance” as it is being sold in New Age as well as Christian circles today. Were it not being swallowed wholesale and touted so confidently by so many, including those in positions of great influence, I would feel less urgency to call it out. But I seem to encounter “Law of Attraction-speak” at every turn, and I worry for the greed, discontent, and spiritual immaturity we are fomenting among ourselves through this supposedly spiritual philosophy.
Which brings me back to Mary Jane. Her most lasting lesson to me over the past 6 months, during a period of tremendous upheaval and transition in my own personal and professional life, has been this: Mary Jane knew how to be content with what she had. She was in love with her life. She was an artist when it came to appreciating the details of life – the embroidery on a cloth napkin, the hint of almond in a cup of tea, the taste and texture of a cheese sandwich. What she had – what she already had – was enough for her. She was not concerned with acquiring more (save little boxes of cookies or tea, or little doodads to give as gifts). She took as her work the task of loving the people, place, and causes to which she was committed, and loving them well. And, I should add, she did not harbor resentment toward the challenges that arose in her life; she accepted them as part of the journey, and dedicated herself to showing up to meet those challenges day by day.
All the energy that Mary Jane could have invested in manifesting bottomless desires was instead freed up - thanks to her humble gift of fulfillment - to be applied toward showing real concern for her family members, friends, and for those she encountered in her daily life. The last time I saw her alive, she took the time to share what she knew might be parting words with my brother, my sister, and me. The crux of her message was this (and I know she said these words verbatim more than once): “Be good to each other.” She uttered these words the way a mother might when scolding a child who has misbehaved – with an arresting gravity, lingering on each word so that it sounded more like, “Beeeeeee-gooooood to eachotherrrr.” Mary Jane’s wisdom was that the way to abundance is through committing to loving and nurturing what you already have, if what you have is fundamentally good and life-giving - and, yes, even when it is frustrating and challenging.
I was put in mind of this lesson, and of how it goes against the grain of “Law of Attraction” ideology, as I read the story of Jesus’s birth in the Book of Luke on Christmas morning. I was surprised to discover that Joseph and Mary had traveled to Bethlehem in order to participate in a census, when Mary went into labor under less than ideal circumstances. I thought about why – whether you take the Christ story as historical fact, as metaphor, or as spiritual truth – why God chose to become flesh via the portal of a humble, working class, initially unwed couple. I became struck by the link between humility and surrender. The humbler we are, the more capable we are of surrendering to a wisdom greater than our own at work in the courses our lives take. This capacity for surrender renders us open to the gifts embedded in each experience (no matter how harrowing), including the ways in which we become agents for outcomes that extend beyond our own lives.
Conversely, the more fixated we become on the narrow scope of our present set of desires, the more likely we are to operate as though our will alone can determine the course of our lives. This approach breeds an acquisitive drive, an implicit sense of entitlement to the sought-after fruits of our labor, and a kind of mania defined by believing the full burden of one's future rests on his or her shoulders alone. This potent trio tends to sew sneaky seeds of hubris within us, and - perhaps even more damaging - can lead (I might add from personal experience) to both burn-out, and to a perpetual sense of poverty regarding one's present-moment circumstances.
This realization - regarding the link between humility and surrender, and the effect of our capacity for both on our lives - led me to reflect upon our culturally ubiquitous ideology of “abundance” vis a vis the Law of Attraction. At its heart, the Law of Attraction claims that personal will can yield the manifestation of our desires, and, by extension, that we “deserve” the fulfillment of our desires as we understand them. I would even argue that this ideology suggests that we know as much in our heart of hearts about what is good for us, about what we are capable of, and about what we deserve, as does God, the Universe, spirit, or however one may conceive of the larger energetic body out of which we were created. Implicit in these teachings is the message that each of us humble humans is on par with the higher intelligence and power out of which the universe and all of life was created, and through which our lives unfold. I have to testify that, from my own experience, and from compassionate observation of the experiences of those around me, such a teaching gives short shrift to the miracle of our fragility, of our imperfection, and to the not-knowing which breaks our hearts open to life's greatest lessons and most tremblingly intimate encounters - with each other, and with mystery.
If Mary Jane - a woman who, while she lived a good life, by no means led a charmed life - were here, and if I were to ask her for her take on all of this “Law of Attraction” business, I doubt she would say anything judgmental about those who invest in this paradigm - and indeed, I have been known to fall sway to the lure of this way of thinking myself. Instead, I suspect Mary Jane would pause for a moment, tilt her head slightly downward and set her gaze on some invisible distance (as she often did when preparing to dispense one of her hard-earned jewels of wisdom), and invoke her signature mantra: “Just beeeee goooood to each other.” Her own storied journey through loss, suffering, love, and joy had led her to this one, essential conclusion.
I aim to carry her wisdom forward, and pray for the grace to live these words half as well as she did. To do just that would amount to an embarrassment of riches.
P.S. I would like to wish a special thanks to Jessica McFarland, one of my favorite bloggers (http://encampmentsinsitu.blogspot.com/), thinkers, and human beings, for a conversation that helped crystallize these thoughts, and to my dear Uncle Brian Lynch, for the above wedding photo of Gram and Gramps. Deep thanks to you both.