Dokumen - Pub - Spirituality and Aging 1nbsped 9780801896538 9780801891199
Dokumen - Pub - Spirituality and Aging 1nbsped 9780801896538 9780801891199
r o b e rt c . atc h l e y
Atchley, Robert C.
Spirituality and aging / Robert C. Atchley.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN-13: 978-0-8018-9119-9 (hardcover : alk. paper)
ISBN-10: 0-8018-9119-1 (hardcover : alk. paper)
1. Spirituality. 2. Spiritual biography. 3. Older people—Religious life.
I. Title.
BL624.A795 2009
204.084´6—dc22 2008020970
A catalog record for this book is available from the British Library.
Preface ix
Acknowledgments xv
2 Spiritual Development 29
spirituality and aging and to those who wish to address the spiritual needs of
aging people. I hope it will also be of use to individuals interested in spiritual
growth, especially in middle and later life. The book attempts to clarify con-
cepts and provide a theoretical framework that can advance understanding of
this topic, which is so important to so many aging people.
The Introduction provides an overview of the book and some orienting dis-
cussion of the concepts and language that are used to describe and discuss
spirituality.
Part One consists of three chapters that provide basic frames of reference
for our examination of spirituality and aging. Chapter 1 deals with the nature
of spirituality, from its beginnings in pure being and transcendence, to the
various avenues through which spiritual being manifests itself, to qualities
that typify spiritual experiences, to how spirituality influences experience in
many aspects of life. Chapter 2 looks at spiritual development as an evolution-
ary process that can occur both naturally and consciously. It considers spiri-
tual development in the context of adult development generally and looks
at ways in which spiritual development illustrates the higher possibilities of
adult development. Chapter 3 focuses on spiritual identity and on the spiritual
self and how it differs from the objective self, which comprises self-concept,
self-ideal, and self-esteem.
Part Two focuses on two dimensions of spirituality that are especially likely
to emerge and ripen in later life: becoming a sage and serving from spirit.
Becoming a sage is about the development of a capacity to bring spiritual
pr e fa c e xiii
My recent books have begun with a nudge from my wife and colleague, Sheila
Atchley. Sheila is more familiar than anyone with what I am thinking about
and studying, and at some point in my process Sheila will say, “I think you
need to write a book about that.” So it was with spirituality and aging. The
positive value of Sheila’s steady appreciation of my work is immeasurable.
Susan McFadden has encouraged my work on spirituality and aging since
the early 1990s. She is an astute sounding board and skilled critic who ap-
preciates what I have to say and unerringly helps me say it better. She cre-
ated several opportunities for me to participate in conferences and write book
chapters that prodded me into thinking more clearly about spirituality and
aging. For this book, she gave me a great deal of specific feedback that helped
me flesh out and organize my ideas and examples.
Harry “Rick” Moody has also been supportive. Beginning with our time
together on the Omega Institute’s “Conscious Aging Think Tank” in the mid-
1990s, Rick and I have traveled parallel paths in the area of spirituality and
aging, although we look at different scenery at times. Rick has been generous
in creating opportunities for me to participate in a variety of conferences and
projects in which I have learned a great deal about the subject of this book.
Rick wrote a detailed critique of this book manuscript, one that challenged
and helped me to clarify points and make it more accessible.
Wendy Harris, at the Johns Hopkins University Press, listened with en-
couragement and interest to several iterations of my ideas about a book on
spirituality and aging. She has a knack for raising the right questions and
issues to expand or clarify my thinking. She was helpful in organizing the
book.
I also want to acknowledge and thank the many people who participated
in my research studies and in several study groups I observed over the years. I
thank those who attended my presentations and asked good questions, those
xvi acknowledgments
who challenged my ideas (of these there were many), and those who allowed
me into their lives for a little while so that I could ground my ideas in some
semblance of reality. Without these hundreds of people, I would not have
experienced directly the diversity and richness that is the field of spirituality
and aging.
I have learned much from my twelve years of participation in Quaker Meet-
ings, first in Oxford, Ohio, and later in Boulder, Colorado. The Quaker culture
of inner discovery, spiritual seeking in community, and transpersonal group
process has informed important aspects of my understanding of spirituality
and aging. Also, wise and spiritual elders are prevalent in these communities,
and they helped me identify what to look for in people who exemplify the
higher stages of spiritual development.
Spirituality and Aging
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Introduction
Setting the Stage
This book considers fundamental questions about the meaning of being and
how it is shaped by the experience of aging. The following general questions
guided my study of spirituality and aging:
— What is spirituality?
— What makes an experience “spiritual”?
— What does it mean to grow spiritually?
— How does spirituality affect identity and self?
— What is the nature of a spiritual journey?
— How does confidence and trust in a spiritual process develop?
— How does spirituality manifest itself in everyday life?
— What does it mean to build a life around spiritual concerns?
— How are these questions shaped by and how do they influence the experi-
ence of aging?
the space created by patient waiting, connection with the sacred, or “ground
of being,” is more likely.
Most spiritual journeys also involve elements of commitment, self-disci-
pline, and regular spiritual practice. I will discuss these elements in detail
later, but I mention them to round out the picture of spiritual journeys.
In his insightful review of social change in spiritual thought and behav-
ior in the last half of the twentieth century, Robert Wuthnow (1998) argues
that spirituality in America shifted from a religion-centered “spirituality of
dwelling” toward a person-centered “spirituality of seeking” and later toward
a personal “spirituality of practice.” Spirituality of dwelling “emphasizes hab-
itation: God occupies a definite place in the universe and creates a sacred
space in which humans too can dwell; to inhabit sacred space is to know its
territory and to feel secure” (3–4). A spirituality of dwelling emphasizes the
security available from firm adherence to doctrine and worship primarily in
awe-inspiring edifices and rituals. A spirituality of dwelling also emphasizes
unchanging doctrine, ritual, and organizational structure. Comfort, security,
and answers come from predictability.
By contrast, a spirituality of seeking emphasizes journeying and negotia-
tion. On a journey, we never know exactly what we will confront, but we have
to remain aware of our needs and pay attention to opportunities to make
effective decisions. Spiritual journeying requires that an individual learn to
negotiate a landscape filled with “complex and confusing meanings of spiri-
tuality” (ibid., 4). On the spiritual journey, we never have perfect maps, so we
need an enduring set of questions that will allow us to discover the ground of
being in that time and place. We try to “live the questions” (Rilke 2002, 21).
Wuthnow (1998) says that a spirituality of seeking is especially likely to
emerge in unsettled times, and this may explain why people who came of
age in the late 1950s and thereafter tended to be more receptive to and inter-
ested in a spirituality of seeking. The environment of seeking occurs in mind-
boggling diversity, ranging from sparkling new megachurches, to revitalized
traditional congregations, to informal Sunday-morning meetings in unused
bars, to solitary journeys made mostly in silence. People seek in the kind of
environment in which they feel nurtured and nourished, and most people
seek the company of kindred spirits.
Wuthnow (1998) argues that most people live a life that balances dwelling
and seeking. They like both the security of dwelling and the openness of seek-
ing. He also sees an emerging practice-oriented spirituality that emphasizes a
practice-oriented life, which, come what may, provides an ongoing, constant
spirit ualit y and aging
but the metaphors of parables or poetic thought are often more effective,
because metaphors suggest rather than direct what is to be seen. Take, for
example, this poem by Rumi (Barks 1995, 36):
Where is this field beyond thought? Whom will we meet there? If each other
doesn’t make any sense, what does? This poetic statement engages and chal-
lenges and opens us differently than analytic thought does.
Compare Rumi’s poem with this discursive statement by Roger Walsh
(1999, 3): “Spirituality . . . refers to direct experience of the sacred.” Walsh’s
statement is meaningful, provided we know what the sacred is, but in my
opinion it does not invite the experience it defines to the same extent that
Rumi’s poem does. I have found that poetry and metaphorical stories are of-
ten more effective than discursive text as stimuli for discussions of spirituality,
perhaps because poetry and metaphors invite deeper unstated feelings and
needs into the conversation.
If we are to see spirituality as a holistic region of human experience, then
we need to employ many more methods than usual. Our empirical, concep-
tual, and analytical capacities must be augmented by humanistic capacities
such as contemplation, rumination, imagination, and intuition.
Nevertheless, we still need some basic vocabulary to begin with, and dic-
tionary definitions are a good place to start. For example, in the American
Heritage Dictionary (2006), spirituality is defined as “the state, quality, or
fact of being spiritual.” Spiritual is defined as “of, relating to, or consisting of,
or having the nature of spirit.” Spirit is defined as “one’s unseen, intangible
being.” Being is defined as “existence.” Thus, spirituality is rooted in our pur-
est experience of existence, the “I Am” without words, just awareness. As
experience, pure being does not require an object (I am this or I am that),
and it exists prior to, and as a prerequisite for, all other experiences, including
time and space. As such, spirituality in its purest form is an inner, subjective
experience. Pure, nonverbal experience of being is the spiritual field within
which occur the mindfulness and present-moment awareness of Buddhists,
the Christ-consciousness of Christians, the witness-consciousness of Hindus,
the awe so prized by Jews, and the ecstatic consciousness of Muslims.
As experience, spirituality as being may or may not be related to experi-
ence of a higher or greater or deeper power. George Gallup (2003) reported
introduction
lives. For many people, learning to bring being back into consciousness in-
troduces a healthy distance from, and perspective on, social roles and also a
needed element of creativity and spontaneity to one’s lived experience.
As we try to understand the interaction between spirituality and other as-
pects of life, we discover that these relationships are at least as complicated
as everything else in our lives and may involve even more levels of conscious-
ness and awareness than we are accustomed to dealing with. Spirituality is a
difficult and complex topic only because we yearn to integrate it into how we
see our lives. If we were comfortable just letting spirituality run in the sub-
conscious background, we would not have much to do. But if our experience
tells us that being consciously in touch with pure being, self-transcendence,
and the ground of being enhances the quality of our life, and if we want to
understand why this is so, then we are drawn to develop the concepts and
theoretical linkages needed to think and study and communicate about this
important topic. Also, if we want to understand how the spiritual region of life
interacts with aging, we need a good map of the spiritual region.
A major goal of this book is to provide a conceptual and theoretical picture
of spirituality that is much broader, deeper, higher, more interrelated, sym-
phonic, full-spectrum, and panoramic than the narrow views used in much of
the current work on spirituality and aging. It is also important to emphasize
that this book looks at spirituality as a topic separate from religion. Although
many people find that their religious beliefs provide an important and per-
haps exclusive context for experiencing spirituality, as age increases so does
the proportion of people who see spirituality in a broader context than formal
or organized religion (Roof 1999; Zinnbauer et al. 1997). The difference is that,
while many studies emphasize religion with a nod toward spirituality, here I
emphasize spirituality with a nod toward religion. But because most religions
contain language and practices intended to facilitate experiences of pure being
and connection, there will inevitably be points where religion and spirituality
overlap. In everyday life it may not be necessary to disentangle the two, but if
we want to understand spirituality well enough to study it adequately, include
it in our ideas about appropriate practice and service to elders, and avoid un-
necessarily joining it and religion, we need to keep our focus on spirituality
and not on religion. This is in no way a negative statement about religion, but
simply a desire to stick to the subject.
I also avoid religious language as much as possible because I have found
that, although it may be helpful for the in-group, it often activates a sense of
intergroup division and difference. Religious language also usually implies a
introduction
There is no doubt that many people have experiences they label spiritual.
Spirituality can be seen as the capacity to perceive experiences as spiritual. But
what qualifies an experience to be called spiritual? What criteria do people
use? Is spiritual experience something separate from “ordinary” experience
or does spiritual refer to a quality that can accompany many types of experi-
ences? This chapter develops a framework for addressing these questions.
Serious discussion of spirituality as an important aspect of human nature,
the identification of pathways for inner spiritual growth and development,
and reports of direct spiritual experiences have been part of the written cul-
tural legacy of humanity for at least five thousand years (Radhakrishnan 1989).
As mentioned earlier, I am using spirituality to refer to an inner, experiential
region of human life. Spiritual experience can occur at many levels: physical,
emotional, cognitive, and transcendent. Spirituality is a quality that can in-
fuse experience in a wide variety of settings. Spiritual experience can be both
transcendent and immanent: It can be both an experience of transcending
worldly concerns as well as an intense present-moment perception that the
ground of all being permeates things. The essence of fully developed spiritual-
ity is an intense aliveness and deep sense of understanding that one intuitively
comprehends as having come from a direct, internal link with that mysterious
principle that connects all aspects of the universe. As fully awakened spiritual
beings, we feel our interconnectedness.
In most spiritual traditions, mysticism lies at the heart of spirituality. Mys-
ticism refers to transcendent, contemplative experiences that enhance spiri-
tual understanding. Mystical experiences can occur during intentional prac-
tices designed to create conditions conducive to transcendent experiences,
such as Zen meditation, Christian centering prayer, or Sufi dance. Mystical
basic frames of reference
experiences can also occur in the process of living a lifestyle that is conducive
to transcendent experiences, as in contemplative gardening. In either case,
contemplative or transcendent knowing may be associated with spiritual ex-
perience.
Transcendence refers to contemplative knowing that occurs outside the
boundaries of verbal thought (Wilber 2001). Although transcendence can
refer to increasingly abstract thought (Pascual-Leone 1990), contemplative
transcendence involves transcending thought itself. Mystical experiences
of transcendence can be brought into thought, but they do not originate in
thought or sensory perception.
Organized religions are social groups or social institutions that have both
theological and behavioral doctrines, ministerial or clerical authority, and rit-
ualized social worship. The size, scope, and history of religious organizations
varies enormously. Of course, individual members can and do internalize
both the theological beliefs and behavioral prescriptions and proscriptions
associated with their organized religion. Individuals often find their deepest
spiritual experiences in the context of their religion. But individuals also often
have their own unique interpretations of the tenets of their religion.
The relation of religion and spirituality is in the eye of the beholder. Many
people use religion and spirituality as synonyms and see no difference be-
tween the two terms. Others use religion to refer to a sociocultural program
for developing spiritually and for bringing spiritual realizations into everyday
life, and they use spirituality to refer to the inner experiences that arise from
trying to put such programs into practice. Most people see spirituality as the
broader term, one that includes a greater variety of experiences than they
would include in the term religion. Some people attach little or no impor-
tance to organized religion but at the same time see themselves as spiritual
persons.
Brian Zinnbauer and colleagues (1997) surveyed 346 men and women from
diverse groups, ranging from mental health workers to traditional religious
denomination members to conservative Christians, concerning their inter-
pretation of the terms spirituality and religiousness. Concerning which was
the broader term, 38.8 percent saw spirituality as broader and 10.2 percent
saw religiousness as broader (table 1).
A large majority (74) saw themselves as both spiritual and religious, and
19 percent saw themselves as spiritual but not religious. Only 4 percent saw
themselves as religious but not spiritual, and 3 percent saw themselves as nei-
t h e n at u r e o f spi r i t ua l e x pe r i e n c e
table 1
The Relation of Spirituality and Religiousness
Response Percentage
Spirituality and religiousness overlap but are not the same concept .
Spirituality is the broader term .
Religiousness is the broader term .
Spirituality and religiousness do not overlap .
Spirituality and religiousness overlap completely .
Source: Adapted from Zinnbauer et al., 1997.
Note: N = 346
ther. Another way of expressing these findings is that 93 percent saw them-
selves as spiritual and 78 percent saw themselves as religious (table 2).
George Gallup (2003) reported that 75 percent of respondents to a 1999
Gallup Poll saw spirituality as “personal and individual” rather than as involv-
ing “organized religion and church doctrine.”
These findings support the separation of spirituality and religiousness
within the study of subjective aspects of the region of life involving percep-
tions and expressions of the sacred.
As a topic in the study of aging, spirituality has mostly been seen as a part
of religion, despite many surveys showing that many people consider them-
selves to be spiritual but not religious. Harold Koenig (2001, 505), after his
thorough review of the literature on spirituality, wrote that “spirituality is a
broader, more inclusive term than religiosity. Many measures of spirituality
that exist today, however, measure simply religiosity.”
As Robert Wuthnow (1998) pointed out, since the 1950s there has been a
growing tendency to use spiritual to refer to inner experiences and religious
to refer to external experiences connected with organized religion. Many au-
thors who grew up with a religion-centered approach to inner spiritual ex-
periences prefer to use religious to refer to both types of experience (Parga-
ment 1997; Roof 1999; Smith 2001). They try to reduce spirituality to religion
by assuming that any inner experience of the ground of being is religious,
even if the person having the experience is unchurched or lacking in reli-
gious background. Reporting on Gallup Polls conducted annually from 1978
to 1998, Michael Lindsay (2000) found that the percentage of adult Americans
identified as “unchurched”—no membership in a religious community and no
church attendance in the past six months—remained steady at 41–44 percent
throughout the twenty-year period. More to the point, I think, is that words
basic frames of reference
table 2
Identification with Spirituality and Religiousness
Response Percentage
I am spiritual and religious
I am spiritual but not religious
I am religious but not spiritual
I am neither spiritual nor religious
Source: Adapted from Zinnbauer et al., 1997.
Note: N = 346
mean what a person takes them to mean, not what authority figures want
them to mean. In today’s world, spiritual is seen by a majority of people to be
a broader term than religious and to refer to an inside-out personal learning
process rather than an outside-in socialization process (Roof 1999).
To begin to grasp the diversity of experiences that qualify as spiritual, I
began about ten years ago to ask people to describe an experience that they
would label spiritual. I have asked this question of hundreds of people, mostly
middle-aged and older. Here is a sampling of responses, selected for their
diversity.
Some people provided an overview.
Last year my husband and I traveled to the Grand Canyon for the first
time. As I stood on the South Rim and looked into the great expanse
of the canyon, I was overcome by the massive stillness of the giant rock
formations bearing scars from thousands of years of wind and water. Just
resting with the canyon for a few minutes evoked that stillness in me. It
was a tremendous sense of peace and release. Just thinking about it now
brings that feeling back. Woman, age 67
Periodically I go with a group of friends to our local shelter for the home-
less to prepare the evening meal. The people who come through the food
line are an amazing mixture. Most are in their 30s and 40s and many have
obvious mental problems of one kind or another. Most show the wear
and tear of living on the streets. When I first started doing this, I found it
difficult to be around that much suffering all in one place. The discomfort
I felt made me want to close down, to harden my heart. But I knew some-
how that I needed to do just the opposite, to summon all the reserves
of love I could find and stand there with a heart open to the suffering.
Through this I was able to gently connect spiritually with the people be-
ing served and realize that we are all being served. Woman, age 43
basic frames of reference
Feeling the hot water on my hands, hearing the sounds of sloshing water,
and seeing the light reflected off the wet dishes are spiritual to me.
Woman, age 80
I work as a massage therapist, and I often work with people who are vul-
nerable. I was trained to approach my clients with nonjudgmental accep-
tance and attentiveness. It feels to me that when people are on my mas-
sage table, they are exposing themselves in more ways than one, in that
they are trusting me with their self-conscious and imperfect selves, not
just bodily. As I am touching these people, I am often meeting them at a
much deeper level than their skin. I experience more than just meeting
spirit to spirit or soul to soul; the experience feels more like I am, in fact,
not separate from this person but that we are part of a whole.
Woman, age 66
From the diversity of these responses, we can see that spiritual experi-
ence is a big category indeed. Spiritual experience can occur in many differ-
ent types of environment and under a wide variety of circumstances. Even
within the same person, there are usually many avenues for having experi-
ences labeled spiritual. Imagine what would happen if I asked about spiritual
history, spiritual capacity, spiritual states, spiritual practice, spiritual identity,
and spiritual growth. We could expect highly individualized answers to these
questions as well. Quickly we can begin to understand why in-depth study of
the spiritual region of life has seldom been attempted, especially in combina-
tion with other topics, such as aging and adult development.
rian chants were playing softly in the background. There was a faint smell
of incense mixed with fresh flowers. As I began to walk the labyrinth, I
was aware that I had to pay attention to the path painted on the canvas
and that I was uncomfortable with the sharp turns, but soon I got used to
it and just slowly walked. Then I sort of “zoned out” for a time and when
I came out of it I was in the center of the labyrinth. I sat cross-legged on
the floor for a long time and was filled with a comforting sense that I was
“home.” Woman, age 64
Wonder
When I was eight, I spent the summer on a cousin’s remote farm in the
mountains of middle Tennessee. One of my chores was to shoo the cow
and a couple of mules from the barnyard down a steep path to a spring
about a quarter of a mile away. I did this twice each day. The morning
run usually started at first light, just before sunrise. I would get up when
I heard the birds, and by the time I dressed, ate a cold biscuit, and got to
the barn there was plenty of light. Our little caravan usually moved pretty
slowly over the side of the steep mountain and would get to the spring
just about sunrise. I would sit on a stump while the animals drank and
t h e n at u r e o f spi r i t ua l e x pe r i e n c e
look at the sun coming through hundred-foot-high oak trees and be com-
pletely awestruck by the grandeur of nature. Man, age 72
Inexpressibility
I look at my face in the mirror and see the ravages of time and gravity, the
tracks of much laughter and some sadness, and the twinkle of the infinite
in the eyes. I wink and smile. Man, age 73
Mystery
When I first began to lose my hearing, I was frustrated that I could no
longer effortlessly participate in things. I often didn’t know what was go-
ing on because I couldn’t hear the discussion or directions or whatever. I
tried reading lips but never really got the hang of it. Then I began trying
to simply “be” with the people—to merely be there with them, to look
gently into their eyes, to sense their energy. It was an amazingly pleasant
experience, and I would often smile a little, which seemed to make people
relax. My world is mostly silent now, and I have lots of friends to guide
me through it safely. Man, age 85
Paradox
When I finally let go of my strong attachment to growing spiritually, I
grew much faster than I had before. Woman, age 48
Transformation
After I finished my first yoga class, I got into my car and had a strong
impression that something big was happening to me. The rest of that day
I was aware of what was happening in each moment in a way that I had
never been before. I was intensely aware—of the scents in the building,
the skin of my fingers on my computer keyboard, the amazing sound of
my breathing. It was incredible to recognize and be present to everything
that was happening and most of all to realize that everything had an im-
pact on me. Woman, age 36
So where do we look in our being for these qualities? There are many avenues
or channels through which we receive spiritual experiences. Here are some
avenues and typical spiritual experiences we might have through those av-
enues, again illustrated by examples from my respondents.
t h e n at u r e o f spi r i t ua l e x pe r i e n c e
Thus, there are many avenues through which we may experience the spiri-
tual qualities of life. As we look at the qualities and avenues of spiritual ex-
perience depicted in tables 3 and 4, we can see that spiritual experience is
enormously multifaceted.
The word spiritual can also be used as an adjective to modify a large num-
ber of aspects of life. Table 5 lists some examples with brief definitions. These
terms and definitions sketch out conceptual, linguistic territory relating to the
spiritual region of life and can be used to have conversations, share experi-
ences, and conduct research on spirituality as a topic in its own right. If we
want to know the extent to which spiritual concerns permeate a person’s life,
we need to ask about many of the items on this list, which does not provide
answers so much as give us a way to identify and frame questions. Certainly all
these aspects of spirituality are salient for understanding the relation between
spirituality and aging.
Given the robust public interest in spirituality, the conceptual narrowness
of current discussions about spirituality and aging within the field of aging
itself is difficult to understand. Certainly spirituality is a central source of
life satisfaction for a large proportion of aging and older people. Why have
gerontologists lagged so far behind the public in developing a language of
spirituality?
table 3
Qualities of Spiritual Experience
Pure being: deep inner space, silence, stillness, peace, equanimity
Discernment: clarity of seeing, interpreting, and meaning
Compassion: universal love in the face of suffering
Connection with the ground of being, direct and conscious
Transcending the personal self, “witness” consciousness
Wonder and inexpressibility, comfort with mystery and paradox
Immateriality and intangibility
Confidence and trust in spiritual process
Earnestness and motivation for a spiritual journey
Transformation
basic frames of reference
table 4
Avenues and Types of Spiritual Experience
Physical: deep peace, quietude, and stillness
Sensory: esthetic wonder
Consciousness/Awareness: many levels and stages
Thought
Intuitive/Mystical: contemplative knowing, waiting
Unitive: complete transcendence, absence of “other”
First, the conflation of religion and spirituality has inhibited scholars from
pursuing the emerging interest in spirituality as a topic of its own. Our scien-
tific world has been so bent on protecting itself from religion that it has cre-
ated blinders that prevent us from understanding spirituality. We do not have
to become a rock to study rocks, but we do have to understand the nature of
“rockness.” Likewise, to understand spirituality we have to at least make an
attempt to understand how those who have come into direct contact with the
essence of spirituality experience their inner world.
Second, gerontologists tend to be uninformed about the existing literature
on spirituality. Much of this literature was written many years ago and tends
not to show up in literature searches that are limited to academic articles
published over the past ten years. To begin to understand the complex nature
of the inner spiritual life, we do not have to begin from scratch. There are use-
ful anthologies that bring together wisdom from the sages of many spiritual
traditions (Hixon 1978; Huxley 1944; James 1905 [2005]; Mitchell 1989, 1991;
Vardey 1995). These texts help us understand various concepts surrounding
spirituality by triangulation. Spirituality is by definition a sensitizing concept
that refers to a conceptual and experiential inner region. To get at the essence
of such concepts, it helps to have access to several statements from different
scholars. As we read many expressions of the same issue, we are more likely
to find the essence of the issue. This process is essential background for study-
ing spirituality and aging, and the anthologies listed above are a good place to
start.
conclusion
background
Historically, ideas about development have been rooted in the physical life
cycle of living organisms. Plants and animals have genetically programmed
life spans in which they grow to maturity, enjoy some period of full matu-
rity, and then begin to decline physically and eventually die. This is called the
maturation-maturity-aging model. Does development occur during all three
stages or just during the stage leading up to full maturity? Early conceptions
of development held that once child and adolescent development were com-
pleted, development was over, and life was simply a playing out of early des-
basic frames of reference
tiny. There was little conception that development could continue into later
adulthood.
In the 1970s, research on middle-aged and older adults began to show
that previously unused physical and mental capabilities could be awakened
and developed in adults of any age (Riley and Foner 1968), that numerous
psychological traits continued to evolve and improve well into old age (Salt-
house 1982), and that social environments made a big difference by demand-
ing, encouraging, or discouraging continued development in midlife and later
(Cohen 2000). Scholars began to look not just at deficits of aging but also at
undeveloped potentials for development in later life.
Interestingly, recorded history contains many illustrations of middle-aged
and older adults having the capacity to continue to develop spiritually. Late-
life spiritual development is present in historical records from a wide vari-
ety of cultures and historical eras. However, this information came from the
humanities—history, anthropology, religious studies, and philosophy—and
was largely ignored by scholars in the social sciences as they developed social
gerontology.
In the early days of the twentieth century, most people thought spiritual
development was the province of religion, not science. For example, William
James’s (1905[2005]) classic treatise on subjective spirituality was titled The
Varieties of Religious Experience. Spirituality was not a word in common use
then. The beginnings of gerontology were mostly silent on the subject. For
example, there was no material on spirituality in the Handbook of Social Ger-
ontology (Tibbitts 1960), only a chapter on organized religion, and the Hand-
book of Aging and the Individual (Birren 1959), which dealt with psychology,
contained no mention of either spirituality or religion.
By the 1950s, much of science was antagonistic toward subjective inner
development, stressing conformity instead. A “secular humanist” view sup-
ported an image of principled science that did not depend on religion, which
was seen as opposed to the flexibility of thought needed for science. Religions’
theological definitions of reality were seen as conflicting with empiricism.
The doctrine of separation of church and state was used to justify exclusion
of religion from publicly funded education and research. Spirituality was seen
in that era as an offshoot of religion, which caused spirituality also to be dis-
valued as a subject of study.
The “human potential movement” of the 1960s challenged this view by
claiming that human beings had many untapped capabilities and that taking
responsibility for our own development was the key to discovering and de-
spirit ual de vel opment
erik h. erikson
table 6
Erikson’s Life Stage Theory of Psychosocial Development
Life Stage Psychosocial Tension Balancing Resolution
Old age Integrity versus despair Wisdom
Adulthood Generativity versus self-absorption Care
Young adulthood Intimacy versus isolation Love
Adolescence Identity versus confusion Fidelity (to worldview)
School age Industry versus inferiority Competence
Play age Initiative versus guilt Purpose
Early childhood Autonomy versus shame and doubt Will
Infancy Basic trust versus basic mistrust Hope
Source: Adapted from Erikson, Erikson, and Kivnick (1986, 36).
taking care of what has been and is being “procreated, produced, and created.”
To develop this capacity, we must be able to see our needs in a context that
includes the needs of others and be able to put others’ needs ahead of ours
when appropriate. Thus, generativity extends the circle of empathy developed
in young adulthood to adjacent generations in the family, at work, and in the
community. At the center of this capacity is a growing strength of nonper-
sonal consciousness.
In old age, the issue is integrity versus despair. Integrity is being able to
stand back from the mosaic of one’s multitude of characteristics and life expe-
riences, both positive and negative, and see this mosaic as an interconnected
whole. To do this, we have to be able to look directly at our negative qualities
and life experiences, accept them, and move on into being who we are. If we
can’t do this, then negative personal qualities and experiences can drag us into
despair. Having practice focusing on the “I am” of pure being gives us a place
to reside in our awareness where we can look at all aspects of ourselves with
compassion. It is a place from which we can forgive our past and clearly see
hope in the way forward. Integrity is not denial; it is acceptance and compas-
sion for the being that is.
l ars tornstam
In The Life Cycle Completed, published following Erik Erikson’s death, Joan
Erikson (1997) cited Lars Tornstam’s theory of gerotranscendence as a ninth
stage of development that could also occur in old age. Gerotranscendence
theory asserts that spiritual development gradually and steadily increases
from middle age onward and results in a shift from a materialistic, role-ori-
ented life philosophy to a transcendent, spiritual perspective in late old age
(Tornstam 2005). Gerotranscendence is present to some extent in most ag-
ing adults, according to the theory, but becomes a prevalent metaperspective
mainly in adults over 70. Gerotranscendence theory presumes that spiritual
development is intrinsic, but the exact source of this development is unspec-
ified. Nevertheless, this development can be promoted or stifled by social
factors such as language and normative constraints, opportunity structures,
social class, and education. Thus, the degree of gerotranscendence varies even
within the very old population.
The broadened spiritual perspective that typifies mature gerotranscen-
dence is indicated by three dimensions. In the cosmic dimension, concepts
such as life, death, space, and time are seen as involving an element of mystery
basic frames of reference
with their grandchildren. For many grandparents, the role emphasizes an ex-
istential quality of relationship rather than a functional quality of mere care-
taking.
In present-day society, retirement may represent a similar opportunity to
turn toward spiritual concerns. Indeed, retirees form a sizable share of the
market for workshops and retreats that focus on spiritual growth and devel-
opment.
In The Five Stages of the Soul, Harry R. “Rick” Moody and David Carroll (1997)
present a different kind of stage theory of spiritual development. Erikson’s
theory of spiritual development is driven primarily by an “outside-in” pro-
cess of adapting to stimuli from the external demands of integrating oneself
with a sociocultural life course. Moody and Carroll’s theory takes a deeper,
“inside-out” approach, in which development is driven not so much by ex-
ternal processes as by internal ones. Although hypothetically a person could
begin this process at any age, most of the life histories the authors cite were
from middle-aged and older adults. Moody and Carroll envision spiritual de-
velopment as a continuous series of small, often gradual and subtle changes
that take place in the context of a profound shift in perspective, involving a
strong sense of spiritual connection and enlightenment. At the heart of the
theory is the assumption that the soul—human spiritual capacity—is real and
in most people has been covered over by language and social conditioning.
The stages of the soul are about a process of reconnecting with one’s spiritual
nature and integrating that spiritual nature into one’s physical, psychological,
and social nature.
Moody and Carroll’s stages of the soul—the shift from an unconscious
spiritual life to a conscious spiritual life—are as follows:
— The Call: The person has experiences that indicate a deeper aspect of hu-
man existence than previously known. He or she feels drawn to explore this
“hidden-in-plain-sight” field of possibility and is attracted, led, or drawn
back to this aspect over and over again.
— The Search: The person searches inwardly for signs of spiritual experience
and also searches for teachers, texts, experiences, and practices that can
help her or him glimpse spiritual nature. There is a thirst for dwelling in this
particular mystery.
basic frames of reference
— The Struggle: The person struggles with letting go of old ways of seeing and
behaving, facing doubts and fears of failure, and developing routine prac-
tices that create openings for experiences of spiritual connection and tran-
scendence. Spiritual community is often a particularly important support
during this stage.
— The Breakthrough: The person emerges from the struggle into stunning
clarity of spiritual perception and purpose. The person breaks through
into new qualities of experience: timelessness and immense space, more
accurate perception of “reality,” “lightness of being”—liberation, deep inner
silence, stillness and peace, loss of fears about death, a sense of new begin-
ning, feelings of universal love and compassion, and a profound sense that
what has happened cannot be captured in words.
— The Return: The person who experiences a breakthrough then experiences
that life goes on. The new way of being needs to be integrated into daily life,
and the person feels a responsibility to give back in return for the amazing
gift received. There is no standard form to the return; returns are shaped by
personality, circumstances, and culture. Many if not most returns are invis-
ible except to the persons experiencing them.
In The Five Stages of the Soul, this framework is fleshed out with dozens
of examples taken from Moody’s interviews. This approach allows us to hear
these abstract stages expressed in the words of people going through them.
Moody and Carroll’s framework is an extraordinary resource for research-
ers and practitioners who wish to include spirituality as a topic in research and
practice. It is also well received by students and general readers interested in
a spiritual journey. However, Ruth Ray and Susan McFadden (2001) criticized
this framework as being too linear, too stylized, and a recreation of Joseph
Campbell’s Hero with a Thousand Faces (1972). Ray and McFadden’s alterna-
tive perspective on spiritual development is discussed later in this chapter.
Moody used a feedback-systems approach in developing the conceptual
framework. He drew ideas skillfully from a broad sweep of writings on spiri-
tuality in philosophy, literature, poetry, and religion from many times and
places. Then he used his tentative framework to structure in-depth interviews
with more than a hundred knowledgeable informants, people with experience
of the spiritual journey. He allowed his ideas to be shaped and disciplined by
his respondents. He also took the ideas out into the community in the form of
workshops. The feedback from participants refined his ideas. Moody himself
has been on a conscious spiritual journey for many years, and that experience
spirit ual de vel opment
gave him an important ability to see patterns within what he was reading and
hearing from respondents. Moody’s experience illustrates well the power of
combining interpretive and storytelling methods from the humanities with
data-gathering approaches common in the social sciences. The result is richer
and deeper than the usual scholarly study.
I use a framework similar to Moody’s to describe more modest, ongoing
cycles of spiritual development. To avoid confusion of terminology, I use dif-
ferent labels for phases of short-term spiritual development. Table 7 shows
a comparison of Moody’s big-picture labels with the labels I use for shorter
cycles of spiritual development.
table 7
Phases in a Cycle of Spiritual Development
Phase Label
Moody and
Carroll Atchley What Happens
Call Awakening interest Opening, attraction, something missing,
yearning
Search Inquiry Study, discussion, contemplation, scanning
Struggle Endeavor Establishing practices; creating a groove;
dealing with discomfort, confusion,
uncertainty, loss of inspiration,
ambivalence, or disheartenment
Breakthrough Integration Pieces fall together to form a big picture
Return Intention Newly developed or renewed sense of
spiritual direction
Source: Adapted from Moody and Carroll (1997); labels for short-term development by the
author.
basic frames of reference
ken wilber
Integral Spirituality packs 300 pages with dense, abstract, conceptual prose
that requires of the reader a considerable background in psychology, sociol-
ogy, philosophy, comparative religion, and many other subjects. Nevertheless,
it is a treasure trove of ideas about spirituality and spiritual development.
From our point of view, a major weakness of the work is that Wilber does
not see aging or life stages as important factors in the process of spiritual de-
velopment. It would take a major endeavor to integrate Wilber’s perspective
with our knowledge base about how physical, psychological, and social aging
interacts with human development.
james fowler
Ruth Ray and Susan McFadden (2001) offer two metaphors—the web and
the quilt—as alternatives to the “hero’s journey” metaphor of spiritual de-
velopment offered by Moody and Carroll (1997). They begin with a critique
basic frames of reference
A quilt has multiple layers and is crafted over time. Like the individual dif-
ferences found in ways of being spiritual, some people’s quilts have an orga-
nizing structure immediately apparent to all; others’ are of the “crazy-quilt”
variety that, when viewed partially may make little sense, but can be quite
beautiful when seen as a whole. Quilts, like spirituality, may have different
functions at different points in the life span. . . A very important aspect of
quilt making is that although parts of the quilt (its “blocks”) may be crafted
individually, the whole quilt is traditionally the outcome of people gathering
to stitch it together. . . As spirituality is nurtured across the life span through
relationships with others, the ‘stitches’ of those relational encounters may
be quite hard to distinguish when viewed in the context of the whole pattern
of life. Nevertheless, without them, there could be no holistic, integrated
sense of spirituality. (Ray and McFadden 2001, 205).
spirit ual de vel opment
It is true that being able to conceptualize and recall one’s spiritual journey
depends on retaining the ability to use language and to access one’s spiritual
experiences, ideas, and history from memory. But what happens for those
who experience dementia? Does dementia mean the gradual loss of person-
hood, including spiritual capacity and identity? There has been little research
on this subject, but I can sketch out some ideas that might serve as useful
orientation on this question. Short-term memory is usually one of the first
functions affected by dementia. People who experience memory impairment
may not be able to remember well what happened to them yesterday, so their
recent recall of spiritual experiences may be limited, but their ability to recall
various elements of their spiritual history throughout adulthood may remain
remarkably intact. Mrs. E is a good example:
Mrs. E cannot tell you what she had for lunch or what activities she en-
gaged in yesterday, and she cannot remember the names of any of her
caregivers in the nursing home. But she can remember in vivid detail the
church services she attended with her children when they were “little,”
the words of hymns they sang, and aspects of the church building she
found beautiful. She recalls that the church was just across the street
from her grandmother’s house. More than that, she can tell you what she
learned in that church and how her life experiences dovetailed with the
Christian social teachings of the “Golden Rule,” kindness toward strang-
ers and the poor, the importance of peace among men, and leading an
basic frames of reference
upright life. She recalls many stories from her family history that clearly
illustrate the morals of various Bible stories through both positive and
negative examples. Even though she cannot track her current life experi-
ences well, she still has a strong sense of personal spiritual identity and
spiritually based morality. Her gregarious personality is still very much
intact.
People in more advanced stages of dementia may lose much of their abil-
ity to recall even distant memories, yet in most cases they still have a strong
connection with the present. Many people with advanced dementia may not
be able to tell you much about who or where they are or who the people
around them are, but they still exhibit many of the traits we prize most in
personhood—kindness toward others, listening to the life stories of others,
and caring for one another. Frances Hellebrandt (1978) presented an early
useful portrait of this aspect of dementia. Based on long-term observations
of residents of a locked dementia ward, Hellebrandt, herself 76, described the
daily existence of sixteen residents.
They move about freely, often in pairs, showing evidence of concern for one
another even though they never address each other by name and cannot
identify the person with whom they are walking. . . . They are clean, neat,
and groomed appropriately, for the most part. On occasion they may wear
two or three dresses at once. . . . The casual observer would find the group
deceptively normal.
All residents in the locked ward are completely disoriented as to place,
time, day, date, year, seasons, or holidays. They have a poor memory for
ongoing events. . . None knows that their behavior is in any way aberrant.
Neither do they realize they live in an institution. Yet much of what we
consider positive human qualities remain alive in these people—concern
for others, friendliness, and optimism (68).
compare people approaching or at the beginning of later life with people who
are farther along in the age range.
Richard Settersten (2003) drew attention to a growing gap between the
concept of a culturally given set of life stages and the concept of the human life
course as an individual life path conditioned by decisions and circumstances
in response not only to life stage but also to current events, personal prefer-
ences, subcultural worldviews, and a host of other factors. Indeed, there is a
great deal of support for the existence of abstract notions of life stages, such
as middle age and old age (Atchley and Barusch 2004), but when researchers
tried to ascertain details of these conceptions, such as when life stage transi-
tions begin or end, or how social expectations change from one life stage to
another, or even how many life stages there are, they came away confused
(Settersten 1999). This suggests that, like spirituality, life stage is a sensitizing
concept that takes you only to a general area of interest, one with only general
dimensions. The particulars have to be investigated for each emerging life
stage.
For our present purposes, is there spiritual development unique to those
who live to advanced old age, say those over 100? I would expect so, but so
far there has been little study of this aspect of centenarians. If we think about
these admittedly arbitrary lifestage divisions of the age range in later life, do
people in these various life stages expect different things of themselves in
terms of spirituality? Does the community expect different things from them
in terms of qualities such as spiritual wisdom? How might these differing ex-
pectations influence the experience of spiritual development? These are just a
few of the possible research questions as we chart the new territory of having
large numbers of people survive to very advanced old age. The difficulty of
addressing these questions is compounded by our cultural inability to agree
about labels and definitions of the life stages past age 80.
conclusion
This chapter begins with a history of the study of spiritual development since
the 1950s and presents several different approaches to understanding how
spiritual capacity in an individual evolves over time, what stimulates spiritual
development, and how spiritual development interacts with other aspects of
adult development.
Erikson’s theory presumes that spiritual development is built on a resolu-
tion of the successive developmental challenges associated with each stage of
spirit ual de vel opment
life before middle age. For Erikson, spiritual development begins in middle age
with a development of generativity—a concern for the well-being of younger
generations—and in later adulthood grows to include wisdom and gerotrans-
cendence. To Erikson, changes in social expectations associated with later life
stages couple nicely with inner predispositions toward a spiritual rather than
a personal “I” and a metaperspective called gerotranscendence. For Tornstam,
gerotranscendence is an intrinsic process that social circumstances can only
hinder. Tornstam sees gerotranscendence as being present to some extent in
all aging people and as having cosmic, self-transcendent, and social selectivity
elements.
Moody and Carroll present a linear theory of spiritual development as a
progression through five stages: call, search, struggle, breakthrough, and re-
turn. Moody and Carroll use these stages mainly to describe large changes in
engagement with one’s spirituality over an extended period of time. I use a
similar series of phases to describe smaller, short-term cycles of spiritual de-
velopment: awakening interest, inquiry, endeavor, integration, and intention.
Wilber developed what is probably the most ambitious and complex the-
ory of spiritual development to date. He sees spiritual development evolving
along multiple lines and through several levels of consciousness. Unfortu-
nately, his theory has not been applied to the issues of adult development and
aging.
Ray and McFadden see spiritual development as involving a necessary ele-
ment of human relationship. Their concept of development is not so much a
linear or even cyclic process. They prefer the web and the quilt as metaphors
for the mysterious interactive processes by which disparate spiritual experi-
ences result in a meaningful spiritual whole.
These examples of conceptualizing and theorizing about spiritual develop-
ment by no means exhaust the possibilities, but they amply illustrate that each
perspective contains valuable insights. There is no need to pick one as “truth”
and junk the rest. Rather, it is possible to integrate all these perspectives into a
more complete understanding of spiritual development as an important pos-
sibility in later adulthood.
Now, let us turn to the relation among spirituality, spiritual development,
and identity and the self.
chapter three
Spirituality, Spiritual Self, and
Spiritual Identity
The self has two different aspects. The first is self as experiencer, which consists
of awareness of being and witness of self as actor—self as the doer, the feeler
of emotions, and the feeler of motivation. Both awareness of being and per-
ception of acting can happen without reflective thought and without words.
But as soon as we begin to think about the content of various dimensions
of self—to conceptualize, categorize, and interpret them—a second aspect
of self arises—the reflective self. The noted sociologist G. H. Mead referred
to the first self as the “I” and the second as the “Me.” The I consists of bare
experience of being: “I am,” which we earlier equated with basic spirituality,
and experience of self as the center of action: “I do,” “I feel,” “I want.” The Me
is a much more complicated system of thoughts about oneself, which come
s p i r i t u a l i t y , s p i r i t u a l s e l f, a n d s p i r i t u a l i d e n t i t y
both from the person’s own perceptions of self (what C. H. Cooley called the
“looking-glass self ”) and from messages about the self that come from others,
called “reflected appraisals” based on how we perceive others’ reactions to us
and our behavior.
Thoughts about the self can be divided into self-concept (what I think I am
actually like), ideal self (what I think I should be like), feared self (the self I
am afraid I might become), self-evaluation (my assessment of the fit between
actual and ideal self ), and self-esteem (how much I like or dislike myself, often
based on my self-evaluation). Self-concept can be further differentiated into
more detailed concepts, such as self-confidence, or willingness to act, which
incorporates an element of agency into the self. Another term for agency is
self-efficacy, an expectation that my efforts will be successful. Self-acceptance
is a process that can involve increasing acceptance of the actual self by letting
go of a perfectionistic ideal self in favor or a more realistic ideal, thereby in-
creasing self-esteem. In all this, the I as actor takes an active part in construct-
ing and maintaining the self system, even when the result is a confused self-
concept, unclear ideal self, negative self-evaluation, and poor self-esteem.
The self system is a dynamic collection of self-referential ideas and a pro-
cess for creating and maintaining the system through feedback from life ex-
perience. By observing the self in action, people develop self-schemas such
as “I am a spiritual person,” “I am an honest person,” “I am a loner,” “I am a
good guitar player,” “I am a frail old man,” “I have a mean streak,” or “I work
well with people.” “The domains of individuals’ self-schemas reflect what they
think about, what they care about, and what they spend their time and energy
on” (Markus and Herzog 1991, 113). Self-schemas serve as benchmarks for
evaluating and refining the self in the context of current life experience. In
addition, people have scenarios about “possible selves” they could become. In
actively constructing an ideal self of the future, people use their ideas about
hoped-for or feared possible selves (Markus and Nurius 1986).
In psychoanalytic terms, the psyche includes a self that has both conscious
and unconscious or nonconscious elements. Carl Jung’s analytical psychology
emphasizes, among many other things, the importance of bringing aspects
of the self that exist in the unconscious into consciousness. This cannot be
done directly, says Jung, but it can be done through the use of metaphors
and myths, through interpretation of dreams, and through art (Jung and Jaffe
1962). The art people make is an important research tool in accessing their un-
derstandings about the self that reside outside their verbal, conceptual mind.
Moody (unpublished) recounts the following dream:
basic frames of reference
I dreamed that I was in a subway station, on the platform. Built into the
wall were bookcases filled with books, very impressive looking (gilded,
antique, heavily bound). But when I examined some of the books, per-
haps to buy them, I discovered that the pages were empty, that the books
were high-class trash, [empty pages] dressed up to look good. Then I was
sitting in a row of spiritual seekers on one side of the platform. I recog-
nized two friends among them. Across the tracks, alone on the other side,
sitting on a kind of throne was a great spiritual master. He answered a
question from one of my friends, and his answer made it clear that the
Way did not mean getting rid of anything with intellectual value; that is,
we should not be anti-intellectual. I felt this was somehow a message
for me.
The “subway station” here is a place below ground, a path for traveling
into the Underworld, or the depths of the self. The opening imagery of
the dream is of bookcases filled with marvelous books. As an academic,
I would naturally be attracted by such beautiful books displayed down
in this lower world. But in this dream I discover that the books are all
empty, suggesting that purely intellectual knowledge has nothing [to
offer the spiritual struggle]. As a wise man once remarked to me while I
sat carefully reading the menu at a restaurant, “You could read this menu
all night and you would still be hungry.” Yet the message of this dream is
not entirely a repudiation of the intellect, as if intelligence were an evil to
be overcome, as certain religious traditions suggest; for example, when
faith is opposed to reason. Instead, the dreamer hears a message from a
spiritual master who helps him overcome any dualism.
Moody’s dream exposed the dilemma of his shadow anti-intellectual self and
his academic self and showed a way to integrate them.
To Jung, the “shadow self ” is an unconscious aspect of self comprising sup-
pressed aspects of self. The shadow self can be destructive or constructive.
The destructive shadow is made up of negative self-referential observations
that the individual actively disowns or does not want to acknowledge. None
of us likes to admit negative qualities such as unkindness, dishonesty, cru-
elty, and the like. On the other hand, the constructive shadow is made up of
potentially positive attributes of self that go unacknowledged for a variety of
s p i r i t u a l i t y , s p i r i t u a l s e l f, a n d s p i r i t u a l i d e n t i t y
reasons. For instance, many people have spiritual experiences but deny them
because of their belief that spirituality does not exist.
Both Erikson and Jung agree that healthy development requires that we
face our “negative” or disvalued qualities and learn to accept them. Erikson
called this kind of self-acceptance integrity and saw it as a central develop-
mental task of old age. Likewise, if spiritual growth is to be a possibility, the
individual must be open to that aspect of self.
It is often said that the complexity of language about a subject is a clue to its
importance. Webster’s Dictionary (Agnes 2002) listed more than a hundred
words describing different aspects of the personal self. The scores of terms
and concepts for various aspects of self show that the self is of great interest
to most people, and most of us spend a lot of time thinking and talking about
ourselves.
Because the self-system in most people is open to change stimulated by
life experience, spiritual experiences—especially if they are cumulative—can
have profound effects on all the elements of self described thus far. Spiritual
experiences and development can be a major force in the shift from a con-
crete, mechanistic view of self to a more dynamic, open approach. In The
Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, Erving Goffman (1959) popularized the
notion that, because reflected appraisals from others are so important, we
spend a great deal of energy trying to manipulate others’ appraisals of us by
tweaking our presentation of self. Like stage actors, we take on costumes and
personas to created illusions that we think will be attractive to others. This
perspective may well be important for explaining motives and behavior of
adolescents and young adults, but by middle age, most people’s life experience
has suggested that such manipulation is not an effective route to acceptance
by others of the actual self and that presenting an inauthentic self is a trap
that one can become caught in. Likewise, many changes associated with ag-
ing require some modification if the self is to remain relevant and adaptive to
current life circumstances. For example, taking advantage of the opportunity
for a more humane pace of life in retirement often requires letting go of the
“productive” ideal self, with its perfectionism and potential inappropriateness
to the spiritual goals of later adulthood.
people strive to make the most of their capacities and be the best they can be,
was a lynchpin of the human potential movement. Maslow’s theory presumes
that character is already there in the bud, just waiting to bloom. Hillman says
that the freedom from social constraints that often comes with aging creates
conditions for increasingly becoming who you already are. Implicit in Hill-
man’s conception of self-actualization is increasing self-acceptance—a will-
ingness to make friends with one’s disvalued as well as valued character, one’s
feared as well as hoped-for character. For many people, spirituality is an in-
creasingly important aspect of character that is both realized and hoped for.
Development of the self is continuous, and evolution of the self occurs
mainly through small, incremental changes rather than through cataclysmic
crises. By the time most people are in their 40s, they have a well-developed
and highly refined self system that has been tested thousands of times. A large
majority of middle-aged and older people have a self system that provides
positive life satisfaction and self-esteem, but those who have created, or had
imposed on them, a system that provides poor life satisfaction and low self-
esteem have a heavy weight to lift if they wish to change. One way to lift such
a burden is through religious conversion, which, if genuine, suddenly makes
major changes in all of the elements of the self—self-concept, ideal self, self-
evaluation, and self-esteem.
church anymore, but she continues to perform her songs in coffee houses
and local bars, partly for the joy of performing, partly for the money,
and partly for the applause and recognition. She records an album of
her songs that enjoys good sales locally. Jenny dreams of being a famous
singer. After college, she tries to make a career of singing and songwrit-
ing, but it is a difficult life with lots of rejections and financial difficulty.
She goes back to school to get a master’s degree in social work. She works
with girls who are first-time offenders in the juvenile justice system. She
continues to sing in various local venues, usually once a week.
At 28, Jenny marries and continues to work. She cuts her performing
back to once a month. By 34, she has two children, and soon she is teach-
ing her two girls to make up songs with titles like “Sharon wears purple
shoes.” When she performs now, her husband and kids are usually in the
audience, which means she only does coffee houses that have an early
show and sings more songs that kids might enjoy. Turns out most adults
enjoy those songs too. Jenny records an album of her own songs for chil-
dren.
When Jenny is 45, the kids are “doing their own thing” and Jenny has
been promoted to director of her program. Her husband travels a lot in
his work, but they enjoy long family vacations about three times a year.
She always takes her guitar on their vacations and there is much group
singing. She also sings a lot as she drives alone from this to that. She still
performs occasionally but not often enough to maintain a local following.
At 57, Jenny has kids in college. Her agency “reorganizes” to eliminate
the program she directs and she faces a reassignment that essentially
means starting over. She is eligible to retire, so she does. Almost im-
mediately, Jenny begins writing songs again and performing more often.
Within a year she begins volunteering twice a week teaching music in an
after-school program for middle school students. She joins a local choir
that sings mostly classical religious music and she rediscovers the classi-
cal voice she worked so hard to create in high school. She also rediscovers
the feeling of transcendence that can come to her while singing. Jenny
also joins a group of mostly older folk singers who get together for a
once-a-month sing-along.
Jenny says that she only recently consciously realized that music is her
spiritual path. She does not consider herself religious but considers her-
self a spiritual person.
s p i r i t u a l i t y , s p i r i t u a l s e l f, a n d s p i r i t u a l i d e n t i t y
Jenny’s story is an abbreviated version of one thread in her rich life, the inter-
play between her experience of music—the satisfaction, spiritual experience,
and social recognition music brings, and how this aspect of her self has been
involved in her decision making thus far in her life. Would we expect music to
play a role in Jenny’s life when she’s in her 70s? Yes. Why? Continuity theory.
Continuity theory holds that people develop mental frameworks based on
life experience (Jenny’s early perceptions that music brought her many satis-
factions), make decisions based on them (Jenny’s continuing to choose music
over other possible activities), observe the results and modify the frameworks
to improve them (Jenny’s dropping the idea of music as a way of earning a
living), and continue to make decisions and adapt their frameworks (Jenny’s
adapting her music to fit the circumstances of her life at each stage). Creat-
ing a self system constitutes a substantial investment of time and energy that
people become increasingly reluctant to abandon as they age. This reluctance
is usually not based in fear but in the potential for joy and satisfaction that
continuity represents to the person. Continuity theory offers clues about why
people take specific directions and how they adapt to life events. It is also a
model of how people learn from their life experience.
How people process feedback is at the heart of continuity theory. Psy-
chologist George Kelly (1955) created personal construct psychology based on
his observation that people do not share exactly the same meanings for the
language they use in thinking. Each word we use has our own unique set of
images, feelings, and life experiences attached to it. This is especially true
of the abstract language we use in analytical thought. This means that each
person has a unique, personal language he or she uses to organize, categorize,
analyze, and summarize perceptions, including perceptions of spirituality,
identity, and self.
Other important elements of processing feedback include attentional and
observational skills. By paying attention and observing skillfully, we obtain
better information to feed back into the personal construct system we have
created concerning the self. Each choice we make has results that, if we are
paying attention and carefully observing, we can use to refine our ideas about
the self to make them more useful and, with age, usually more realistic.
Continuity theory has two important implications for research. First, there
is no standard “template” for the self systems people create; each system is
based on the individual’s life experiences, awareness skills, and personal con-
structs. Research must therefore begin by investigating the individual’s vocab-
ulary about the self. Second, to understand the evolution of identity and self
basic frames of reference
When spiritual experiences are converted into thoughts about the Me,
they become part of the objectified self. For most people, it is difficult to have
an experience without thinking at some level “This is happening to me.” As we
saw earlier, many different types of experience can be classified as spiritual,
and by the time people reach adulthood most have a substantial number of
spiritual experiences tucked away in memory.
Spiritual teachings and teachers point the way and also provide mental,
linguistic frameworks for organizing our spiritual experiences. Rick Moody
relates the story of his interview with Jeffrey:
One day Jeffrey met a Sufi teacher at a friend’s apartment. At the time, he
explained, Islam conjured up the usual stereotypes of sword-wielding Arabs
and terrorists at the airport. Meeting this elderly Sufi changed all that.
“I sort of had . . . well, when I first met him my heart exploded in me. I felt
like I’d always known this man; always wanted to be with him. Something
like that—it’s hard to describe these things.”
At the request of his teacher, Jeffrey converted to Islam. “I didn’t know
anything about Islam, but one passage of the Koran got me: “Wheresoever
you look, there is the face of God.”
Moody pressed Jeffrey for guidance that might lead Moody to have a
similar experience.
“You know, seeing God isn’t for everyone,” Jeffrey said. “In Sufism we talk
about a person’s heart being open. People assume that this is the goal, that
all of us have to get to this place. But it isn’t true.
“The reason for being on a path is not always to have ‘experiences.’ You
struggle spiritually because that’s what you’re put on earth to do. It’s your job
as a human being. Whether or not you get to the light is not what matters. If
you do, great. If you don’t, great. We can’t really understand how it works. It
just happens to some people and not to others. That’s another reason why
it’s better not to talk about it—it makes people feel badly that they haven’t
experienced what you’ve experienced. Better to just keep it to yourself.”
Jeffrey’s statement reminded [Moody] of a Sufi saying: “The more one
talks about their vision of God, the faster you should run away.”
Jeffrey went on, “If your heart opens and you see light or angels, or what-
ever, afterward when it’s over you feel small and invisible. You realize you
didn’t do anything; you didn’t really make the thing happen. It was given to
you, and that’s all you can say about it.”
When asked “What should one do, then?” Jeffrey said, “Small things.
Start with small things. Efforts that are within your power. Everyday efforts
basic frames of reference
to be nice to somebody, to be patient. Try to see the matter from the other
guy’s point of view. Try to understand that maybe this person is having a
bad day. Be generous. Give away something you like to someone who needs
it. Be cheerful when you’re not feeling so good. . . . Try not to make things
into tragedies if you can help it. Little things.
“Let me say something else. Most of us are easily distracted. We’re pulled
along by the current of things. But, you know, if you want to become an
accountant you don’t study law one year, art the next, medicine the next.
You’d never make it that way. You have to make a commitment. Choose
something and stay with it. It’s the same with spiritual things. . . . A person has
to go at this with deep sincerity. . . . The commitment is what’s important. Let
the rest take care of itself.” (Adapted from Moody and Carroll, 1997: 304–8)
Just like a wild animal . . . [the true self ] seeks safety in the dense under-
brush, especially when other people are around. If we want to see a wild
animal, we know that the last thing we should do is go crashing through the
woods yelling for it to come out. But if we will walk quietly into the woods,
sit patiently at the base of a tree, breathe with the earth, and fade into our
surroundings, the wild creature we seek might put in an appearance. We
may see it only briefly and only out of the corner of an eye—but the sight is
a gift we will always treasure as an end in itself. (58–59)
For Palmer, the spiritual journey is a journey of reuniting soul and role.
s p i r i t u a l i t y , s p i r i t u a l s e l f, a n d s p i r i t u a l i d e n t i t y
I am not one person inside, but two. The first is a highly social being who sits
in an office in Manhattan all day, talks on the phone to colleagues around
the country, writes scholarly papers, delivers lectures, directs workshops,
jokes, argues, gives orders and advice, and at home kicks the soccer ball
around with his son. A pillar of the community. That’s the visible [Rick]
Moody in the external world.
Beneath this outer mask, however, lives an entirely different being with
roots deeply sunk into the invisible. This second being is a rather gentle,
passive soul, a good deal quieter than the erudite professor who goes to
the office every day, and a good deal closer to the center of reality. I have
caught phantom glimpses of him through the years, sometimes in the midst
of ordinary activities, most often during meditation. . . . This self remains
so remote and silent that at times I wonder why it’s there at all. If the soul
doesn’t play a part in everyday life, what part does it play? Surely this soul
has important lessons to contribute. . . . Why then does it sit so passively
in the shadows of our consciousness, often unheard and unacknowledged
throughout out lives?
The answer is that it is not sitting there passively. It is actually calling to
us all the time, sending us message after message. . . . But it is doing so in
its own secret language, the language of spiritual communication—symbol,
contemplation, art, ceremony, and especially our dreams. (adapted from
Moody and Carroll 1997, 51–52)
One may say truly, I think, that personal religious experience has its roots
and center in mystical states of consciousness. . . . Our normal waking con-
sciousness, rational consciousness we call it, is but one special type of con-
sciousness, while all about it, parted from it by the filmiest of screens, there
lie potential forms of consciousness entirely different. We may go through
life without suspecting their existence; but apply the requisite stimulus, and
at a touch they are there in all their completeness . . . No account of the
universe in its totality can be final which leaves these other forms of con-
sciousness quite disregarded. How to regard them is the question. (James
[1905] 2005, 313)
I am a spiritual person.
Spirituality shifts from being a category of ordinary experiences to being a
self-defining category, part of identity. In my longitudinal study of people who
were age 70 or older in 1996 (Atchley 1999) only about 30 percent saw them-
selves as spiritual persons. In Wade Roof ’s (1999) study of individuals who
were in their 40s in 1988, a large majority saw themselves as spiritual, and this
proportion increased over time, to 73 percent in 1998. Zinnbauer et al. (1997)
reported that 93 percent of their respondents rated themselves as spiritual
persons. George Gallup (2003) reported that in 2002, 47 percent of a national
sample “strongly agreed” with the statement “I am a person who is spiritually
committed,” and the proportion with spiritual commitment increased with age.
These findings suggest that the growing use of the term spiritual to describe in-
ner experiences of being and transcendence took hold more for those who had
come of age in the 1950s and that for many there was also a developmental
shift toward seeing oneself as a spiritual person as one aged.
What are the implications of spirituality becoming part of identity? It
seems reasonable to suspect that it becomes harder to relegate spirituality to
one or two compartments of lifestyle and that spirituality identity might be
expected to influence how a person approaches life in many more contexts.
basic frames of reference
Until this point, Ron had focused his self system on the feedback he re-
ceived from others and had paid less attention to his own inner voice. After
s p i r i t u a l i t y , s p i r i t u a l s e l f, a n d s p i r i t u a l i d e n t i t y
tolerate well the constraints their religion requires. Even in this pattern, how-
ever, individuals usually see themselves as responsible for the specific ele-
ments of the journey. The second pattern is an individualized journey within a
religious context. It often involves clergy as personal counselors who help the
individual integrate religious beliefs and practices with personal constructs of
meaning and purpose. The third pattern is the self-directed spiritual journey.
Individuals following this pattern may use free-lance “spiritual directors” to
help them gain the self-awareness and make the decisions needed to fashion,
maintain, and revise their spiritual journey. Others are comfortable being on
their own in searching, selecting, and processing feedback from experience
on the spiritual journey.
Seeing oneself as a seeker, a person who is actively pursuing and cultivating
spiritual experience and integrating those experiences into her or his life, is
not a concept that all people on a spiritual journey would apply to themselves.
Seekers are more actively searching and choosing and learning and applying.
In Moody and Carroll’s (1996) terms, we would expect seeking to be an early
phase of spiritual development, followed by settling into a meaningful spiri-
tual routine.
in the past seemed confusing or unclear become clear. Many people react
with amusement at their previous “denseness.” Moody and Carroll (1997, 273)
write, “Breakthroughs may seem to occur suddenly and seemingly out of the
blue. In reality, these moments usually come after many years of daily struggle
and time spent in care of the soul.”
Many people feel that because they have been transformed, their troubles
ought to be over. A transformed perspective can certainly provide greater
detachment from the personality and its foibles, but the personality does not
disappear. Thus, spiritual practice in a post-transformation period may in-
volve constructing a new “transformed” self that does not deny elements of
the previous self that remain.
Marina is in her early 60s and has been on an intentional spiritual jour-
ney most of her adult life. She knew at an early age that she was called
to a spiritually centered life, and she tried various paths. She entered a
convent for a time but found that this life did not suit her. She studied
comparative religion, thinking that this might be a way to unite work and
spiritual journey. What she found was academic rivalry and discourse
that trivialized spiritual experience. Throughout much of her young and
middle adulthood, Marina struggled mightily with the whipsaw effects
s p i r i t u a l i t y , s p i r i t u a l s e l f, a n d s p i r i t u a l i d e n t i t y
limitless—infinitely bigger than big. The Quakers speak of “that of God within
everyone.” Whatever we conceive God or a supreme being to be, there is a bit
of that in us, and we can identify ourselves with it. This idea was also at the
root of The Perennial Philosophy (Huxley 1944) and Paul Tillich’s (1967) idea
of a God that served as Ground of God—a God beyond God.
conclusion
There is little question that for many people spirituality is a central element
of identity and self. We have looked at a variety of concepts that can be used
to detail this relationship. It is also likely that these people navigate the so-
cial world in ways that are different from those of people who do not see
themselves as spiritual, but much research remains to be done to understand
this possibility. My guess is that there is great diversity in the composition of
spiritual identity and self and in the ways spiritual identity and self influence
lifestyles and life courses. We can also divide those who see themselves as
spiritual into those for whom spiritual identity is an ego enhancer and those
for whom spiritual identity is a way to transcend ego.
Does our discussion of spirituality, identity, and self imply that incorporat-
ing spirituality into identity and self is better than not seeing oneself as spiri-
tual? No. People who see spirituality in their experience are responding to
their experience, and people who do not see spirituality in their experiences
are also responding to their experience. No implication should be drawn that
seeing oneself as spiritual is “better” than not seeing oneself this way. My aim
is simply to provide concepts, definitions, and theoretical frameworks that
can be used to study spirituality, and these ideas have application mainly for
the large proportion of the population who do see spirituality in their world.
This chapter illustrates the difficulty of trying to capture a sense of a per-
son’s spiritual identity and self through one-shot survey questions such as
“To what extent do you consider yourself a spiritual person?” Narratives of
the spiritual journey are particularly informative precisely because they are
usually condensed versions of origins, changes, and directions that reflect the
underlying values and experiences that shape a specific journey tailored to
the needs of a specific person. The many concepts and approaches to looking
at spiritual identity and self presented in this chapter are valuable for getting
a sense of the important questions to ask, not so much for providing pat an-
swers. They also provide a rich vocabulary that can be used to discuss these
important topics.
part ii
Spiritual Journeying
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chapter four
Becoming a Sage and a Spiritual Elder
Transpersonal Psychology
Like spirituality, wisdom is a sensitizing concept that does not have a con-
crete referent, so there are many definitions of wisdom. For Paul Baltes and
colleagues (Baltes and Smith 1990; Baltes 1993; Baltes and Staudinger 2000),
for example, wisdom is merely an advanced form of cognition. In this view,
wisdom is a practical skill involving rich factual and procedural knowledge,
applied in a context that includes the entire human life course and a multicul-
tural vantage point. As Monika Ardelt (2003) pointed out, this is a Western,
instrumental view. For others (Achenbaum 1997; Ardelt 2003; Atchley 1993),
an Eastern view, which looks at wisdom as a metaperspective rooted in spiri-
tual development, is necessary if we are to include faculties such as empathy
and compassion in the concept of wisdom.
Andrew Achenbaum and Lucinda Orwoll (1991) place growing ability to
transcend at the center of their concept of wisdom (see table 8). Their concept
of wisdom starts with the spiritual process of transcending at the intraper-
sonal level of the personal self, and this transcendence leads to an expanded,
transcendent concept of the self as more than a personal self, a less distorted
self-concept, and less self-centered motives for action. When transcendence
includes the interpersonal level, capacities such as empathy, understanding,
and compassion come into play in relationships with others. When transcen-
dence expands to a universal level, to include all of life, then self-transcen-
dence is complete and the being recognizes the limits of human knowledge
and understanding and is ready to make lasting spiritual commitments. One
of Achenbaum and Orwoll’s main contributions to the conceptualization of
wisdom is including an element of motivation in their definition, the urge to
bring spiritual insights to bear on oneself, in one’s relationships, and in one’s
wider world.
table 8
Dimensions of Wisdom: Achenbaum and Orwoll
Intrapersonal Interpersonal Universal
Personality Self-development Empathy Self-transcendence
Cognition Self-knowledge Understanding Recognizing limits of
knowledge
Conation Integrity Compassion Philosophical/spiritual
commitments
Source: Adapted from Achenbaum and Orwoll (1991).
be c oming a sage and a spirit ual elder
table 9
Dimensions of Wisdom: Ardelt
Affective Compassion, positive stance toward self and others, absence of negative
emotion and behavior toward others
Cognitive Understanding life’s deeper meaning, understanding limits of knowledge
and human nature, accepting uncertainty
Reflective Undistorted vision, multiple perspectives lead to self-awareness, insight,
diminished self-centeredness
Source: Adapted from Ardelt (2003).
spirit ual journe ying
What does it mean to be a sage? A sage is one who has done the inner work
necessary to act in the world with pure being, transcendence of the personal
self, and direct connection with the sacred. Sages also manifest cognitive,
emotional, and contemplative wisdom. They first must come into deep and
enduring contact with their spiritual nature; then they can bring that nature
to whatever roles they play in society. In this sense, being a sage modifies how
one plays many types of social role, but being a sage is often invisible because
it is not based on what we do but who we see ourselves to be as we do it.
For every obviously sagely act, the sage performs hundreds of unobtrusively
sagely acts. This concept of the sage is flexible enough to accommodate the
realities of our postmodern world because it does not center being a sage
within a specific role or religious context. However, the spiritual elder can
also be a role in itself in contexts that are explicitly spiritual or religious. Spiri-
tual elders are mentors and wisdom keepers, but spiritual elders do not see
wisdom as a commodity to possess; they see it is a process that depends on
connection to the sacred.
The process of becoming a sage can “transform the downward arc of aging
into the upward arc of expanded consciousness” by focusing on the possibility
that later life can be a time of unparalleled inner growth (Schachter-Shalomi
and Miller 1995, 5–7).
One can be a sage without knowing how to bring this way of being into
action. The process of becoming a sage involves an interplay between contem-
plation and action. Without contemplation, the capacity for action as a sage is
not there. For instance, I once attended a meeting at which a venerated Bud-
dhist roshi was present. He sat quietly with great stillness, and at one point the
moderator turned to him and said, “Do you have anything to add, Roshi?” The
roshi obviously considered the question deeply, and after a long pause said,
“No.” This no carried much more weight than a casual or offhand no would
have. In this case, the action was an obvious act of deeply considering the
question and it was rooted in deep contemplation. But without action, there
is no sage in the family or community. One may experience enlightenment
alone, but for that enlightenment to have effect in the world the enlightened
one must continue to participate in the world. When people are recognized
as sages—venerated for their experience, judgment, and wisdom and encour-
aged to play the role of sage—they have become actualized.
be c oming a sage and a spirit ual elder
obstacles
as a sage. For example, to survive in any social world, one must have a basic
understanding of how it functions, including basic ideas about the part we are
expected to play. What spiritual development offers is a capacity to see the
social world and its demands with more clarity.
We also tend to fear letting go of our social roles. But if we have done our
inner work, we can shift our perspective to the spiritual level of conscious-
ness while we continue to function in many of the same social roles. However,
we need to have the capacity to remain centered spiritually in order not to
be drawn into the materialistic mindset of others we encounter in various
everyday venues in which we play our social roles. Many spiritual traditions
teach that this learning to be “in the world but not of it” is best begun quietly.
Remember, becoming a sage is foremost a way of being and not a set of items
on a résumé.
Fear of silence and inactivity is another major obstacle to knowing our
spiritual self. In New York, London, or Tokyo, it seems as though most people
walking down the street are talking on cell phones. Many people seek to fill
every potentially quiet moment with sights and sounds. To those unaccus-
tomed to it, five minutes of silence can seem like an eternity. Those unfamiliar
with stillness find it difficult to just sit quietly. Their bodies want to fidget and
move. They feel a need to be doing something all the time.
For many people, spiritual development provides an increased capacity
to experience silence, stillness, and peace in any moment. One day, as I was
rushing to my next meeting, I became aware of how harried I felt. This was a
purely “in my head” experience and I was also aware that I was missing out on
a beautiful sunny fall day. I shifted my internal focus and began to walk at an
amble and to enjoy my surroundings. Instead of arriving at my destination all
wound up, I arrived refreshed. Now, I often enjoy the opportunity for stillness
and peace that comes with waiting in line. This creates a feeling of the enor-
mity of space and time. In this context, the calm required of a sage is easier to
manifest.
Clear seeing also requires that we not turn away from unpleasant truths.
Ram Dass (2000, 54) wrote that “in the process of learning to become mind-
ful, and to age in a conscious way, fearlessness is an essential ingredient. This
fearlessness involves the willingness to tell the truth, to ourselves and others,
and to confront the contents of our minds. We must be willing to look at
everything—our own suffering as well as the suffering around us—without
averting our gaze, and allow it to be in the present moment.”
be c oming a sage and a spirit ual elder
skillful me ans
teachings ring true to a person depends on how the teachings resonate with
that person’s spiritual experiences and the language that seems to him or her
to be an authentic way to talk about those experiences. Some people are for-
tunate to grow up in a spiritual tradition with concepts and language that
continue to resonate well with their experiences as they evolve spiritually.
Others find that the concepts and language of their religion of origin gradu-
ally lose the capacity to describe their spiritual experiences. Often, spiritual
seekers remain on the lookout for teachings that express well what they have
experienced. It is not that they are necessarily looking for a different truth;
they may simply be looking for more or better ways to express what they have
already experienced.
Teachers can be invaluable bridges between teachings and experience.
Some teachers are good at leading people to a direct experience of the ground
of being. Others are good at leading people to ways of expressing those expe-
riences. Some teachers model bringing wisdom into everyday life. Still others
are good at many of these things. Not all teachers are gurus. As Ram Dass
(1988) said in an audio presentation, “The teacher points the way; the guru is
the way.” Gurus are the embodiment of the teaching in all its aspects. In this
respect, the fully realized sage is a guru, although there is no such recognized
position in Western societies.
Spiritual communities are a valuable support for the spiritual journey.
Some spiritual communities function within the context of traditional reli-
gions; others are nondenominational collaborations. Spiritual communities
provide guidance, structure, and encouragement. Many people find that be-
ing part of a spiritual community makes it easier to sustain their commit-
ment to the spiritual journey. Of course, spiritual communities come in many
varieties. Some are loosely organized and democratic in process. Others are
hierarchical and doctrinaire. Most are probably somewhere in between these
two extremes. Little systematic study has been made of how these variations
among spiritual communities influence the nature of spiritual experience or
development.
Spiritual communities also serve as a check on the ego’s tendency to trans-
form spiritual insights into ego agendas. For example, the Quakers have a
process called the “clearness committee,” which calls together a small group
within the community to help a seeker explore the extent to which a motive is
spiritually rooted. Clearness committees are especially likely to be called for
those who are considering membership or marriage, but other types of action
can also benefit from this process. Clearness committees create a supportive
be c oming a sage and a spirit ual elder
space in which people can, in the company of spiritual peers, explore fully their
motives and intentions. Clearness committees are intended not to put a stamp
of approval on any particular way of thinking or acting but instead to open
an opportunity for the seeker to arrive at greater clarity about the matter.
Being part of a spiritual community also allows a person to explore the
language and concepts of spirituality in the company of others who are also
confronting issues of spiritually connecting with inner being and transcen-
dence, expressing that connection, and contemplating the implications of that
connection for everyday life.
Becoming a sage thus occurs in the context of spiritual development. But it
also occurs in a context that includes cultural and personal obstacles both to
believing that spiritual growth is the purpose of life and to recovering a role
for sages as exemplars of spiritually awakened living. Contemplative practice,
spiritual teachings and teachers, and spiritual communities are important
supports on the journey to becoming a sage. Becoming a sage is a capacity
that usually takes many years to develop.
I have encountered three distinct categories of people who are involved in
becoming sages: sages-in-training, actualized sages, and transcendent sages.
sages-in-tr aining
When a person realizes that becoming a sage is a real possibility, she or he can
become a sage-in-training. (Of course, most people who are doing the work
to develop spiritual capacities do not see themselves as sages-in-training; that
would seem pretentious.) Sages-in-training take on sages as their reference
group, people who represent their aspirations. But how do people come to
this realization? A fortunate few experience a rite of passage that recognizes
their entry into sagehood, but most of us must rely on more subtle messages
that we are entering a new stage. Here is my own experience of initiation:
the hand and seated me in the circle. Although I was 60, I did not see
myself as yet being an elder, and I was easily ten years younger than the
others included as elders. There were about fifteen elders in the circle.
About seventy-five other attendees (students and faculty) walked around
the circle for ten minutes or so singing a lilting song of appreciation to
the elders. Then Subonfu instructed the attendees to go to the elders for
blessings. I had never in my life given anyone a blessing and had no idea
how to do so. A psychology faculty member whom I knew only casually
approached me, knelt on the floor in front of my chair, and asked for my
blessing. After a brief feeling of being at a loss, I went in my conscious-
ness to that place that is beyond my personal concerns and found its
stillness. I then lightly placed my hand behind her head and drew her
forehead to mine and said, “Be peace.” Tears welled in her eyes and she
smiled. She then bowed two or three times to me, rose, and stood quietly
a moment before moving on. I looked around the room, and the other el-
ders were involved in the same unpretentious ritual. I gave different bless-
ings to ten or twelve people that day. It seemed that the process of blessing
and being blessed was much more important than the specific words. This
was my initiation into becoming a sage in the present moment.
from and where we go. They quote Robert de Ropp: “The contemplation of
an individual life against the background of time brings inevitably deeper in-
sights into the nature of being and becoming. How vast a time passed before I
existed and how vast a time will be after I cease to exist! But what is I? What is
this self whose days and adventures are drawing to a close? An isolated spark
briefly lit, destined to fade forever into darkness? A fragment of a greater con-
sciousness that will return to the place from which it came? A spirit temporar-
ily imprisoned in flesh? A traveler far from his true home and now about to
return?” (124). Who am I? Why am I here? What is my place in the universe?
Is there a God? What is God? Can I know God? What is my relation to God?
Rumination on these types of questions makes later life a philosophical life
stage (Manheimer 1999).
Erik Erikson initially thought that the major psychological task of old age
was to develop ego integrity and thus avoid despair in the face of aging and
death (Erikson 1955). But in his eighties, Erikson changed his mind. Wisdom
was the culminating development of old age, and wisdom was reached by un-
derstanding that integrity and despair coexist (Erikson, Erikson, and Kivnick
1986). The wise individual understands that integrity balances despair and
that despair tempers integrity. Wisdom thus transcends both integrity and
despair. This type of transcendent perspective grows out of years of contem-
plating deep questions.
To move forward into these deep questions, the sage-in-training must also
overcome inertia and let go of earlier concerns. Feeling that one has been
wronged or deprived in the past is a major attachment to the past. To move
forward, being able to forgive ourselves and those others we hold responsible
for past circumstances that distress us is usually helpful. The Buddhist practice
of Tonglen (Wegela 1996) is an example of a spiritual practice that can change
perceptions of the past and help us develop the compassion that enables for-
giveness. The practitioner begins with an attitude of openness, awareness,
and compassion. Then he or she focuses for a few moments on the breath,
breathing in dark feelings of confusion or pain and breathing out light, bright
feelings of relief. Then he or she focuses for a few minutes on a particular situ-
ation that causes pain and breathes in those feelings and breathes them back
out into the entire universe. Then he or she focuses for a time on all people
who experience similar pain, breathing in their pain and then breathing it
out into the universe. This last phase leads the practitioner to experience that
she or he is not alone in experiencing pain and to experience the relief that
accompanies releasing the pain into the vastness of the universe. The result is
be c oming a sage and a spirit ual elder
a feeling of connection and relaxation. From this state, forgiveness and grati-
tude are much more possible.
Buddhists believe that the reality of death, if unexamined, is like a mill-
stone hanging around the neck. Denying death does not really work. To be
free, we must face death and accept it (Becker 1973). To die with awareness,
we must be willing to contemplate and ruminate on death until we reach an
understanding of it. This is another part of the philosophical homework, deal-
ing with questions such as, How will I deal with the process of dying? What
happens to me at the moment of death and after I have died?
Sages-in-training are just getting started on a set of tasks that are rarely
fully completed in a lifetime. Just when we think our work is done, life sends
us another invitation for further learning.
ac tualized sages
Mature adults who have done the inner work that allows them to experience
ongoing present-moment awareness and transcendence are able to move
about in the world as actualized sages. Generativity and wisdom are the hall-
marks of this type of sage.
Generativity involves nurturing and guiding those who will succeed us in
the flow of generations (Erikson, Erikson, and Kivnick 1986). It is most often
expressed in mentoring relationships. Mentoring is a type of caring relation-
ship; it focuses on accompanying a developing person and providing loving
support. Support may involve giving information about a sphere of life, espe-
cially an overview, but its ultimate aim is to foster the capacity of the mentee
to function on his or her own. Schachter-Shalomi and Miller (1995, 189) as-
sert that “mentors do not impose doctrines and values on their mentees in
an attempt to clone themselves. Rather, they evoke the individuality of their
apprentices, applauding them as they struggle to clarify their values and dis-
cover their authentic life paths.” Mentoring is a skill that takes practice, and
therefore time, to develop.
Schachter-Shalomi and Miller (1995, 200–202) suggest several guidelines
for recognizing the mentoring skills of an actualized sage. First, the sage lis-
tens with great spaciousness to the mentee’s concerns before attempting to
share his or her wisdom. The sage does not expect to transfer great insights
unsolicited but instead offers wisdom in small increments in response to
questions. Second, the sage uses Socratic questioning methods to evoke the
mentee’s innate knowing rather than imposing knowledge in an authorita-
spirit ual journe ying
tive fashion. Third, the sage does not try to impress the mentee by claiming
to be perfect, but instead is an authentic human self—seeking, tentative, and
vulnerable. Fourth, the sage works with the mentee’s unique human potential,
not with some idealization of what everyone should be like. As James Hillman
(1999) pointed out, character development is what later life is all about, and
character is highly individuated. Fifth, the sage recognizes that the mentor-
ing relationship has phases. In the beginning, there is a gradual development
of spiritual intimacy that allows for a genuine relationship. Then there may
develop a frequency of interaction that allows the relationship to meet the
mentor’s need to be of real service and the mentee’s need to have someone
really understand what she or he is experiencing. The deep trust that this
process occasions allows the transmission of wisdom to occur. Finally, the
mentee becomes a peer and no longer needs to be under the mentor’s wing.
The mentoring relationship comes to an end. Both mentor and mentee then
need be willing to move forward into a new peer-to-peer relationship.
Mentoring relationships can occur in many different contexts. Parents of-
ten mentor their children. Grandparents often mentor their grandchildren.
In the workplace, elders can be mentors for those who are at earlier stages in
their careers. In community organizations, elders can mentor those who are
at an earlier stage of their experience in public service. In almost any intergen-
erational context, elders can mentor the young. But in our society, too many
contexts are age segregated, and the natural tendency of the young to seek
mentors among their elders is stifled.
In my course on the psychology of aging, I asked each student to visit an
elder who had many years experience on a spiritual path. I had a pool of about
thirty such elders who volunteered to be interviewed. Students met with their
elder weekly throughout the semester and wrote a ten-page life history of that
elder. In the process, more than a quarter of the students became mentees of
their elder, and their interactions continued long after the course had ended.
Many of these students indicated that had they not been required to meet, they
would not have sought out a spiritual elder. In our society, intergenerational
contact does not occur naturally, except perhaps in families. Accordingly, for
actualized sages to serve as mentors requires that we develop mechanisms to
facilitate intergenerational connections. The good news is that intergenera-
tional programming is one of the latest growth areas within gerontology.
As mentioned earlier, wisdom is a quality that sages bring to their own
lives and to the social worlds in which they participate. Wisdom is not a com-
modity that a person can possess. Instead, it is a process that requires skill to
be c oming a sage and a spirit ual elder
enact. In my opinion, the essence of wisdom begins with the capacity to see
the world from outside one’s own personal agenda. This allows the observer
to see various sides of an issue. A person at a transcendent level of conscious-
ness also experiences time in a more expansive way, which creates a more
relaxed and less frenzied stance toward decision making. “Being while doing”
is a learned capacity that opens opportunities for the quality we call wisdom
to enter our world.
To practice bringing wisdom into the world requires developing the habit
of being still and patiently awaiting a moment that demands the special gift
of nonpersonal perspective that we call wisdom. But, as one sage put it, “In
order to bring your special gifts as an elder, you have to be there. You have to
resist the temptation to withdraw to the comfort of your own solitude or your
small circle of friends. You have to continue to show up in those groups you
care about.”
Actualized sages, those who are recognized as having the capacity to be a
sage in the present moment, generally recognize each other as such and enjoy
one another’s company. When they get together, there are often periods of
comfortable silence. They share their experiences of joy as well as doubt and
uncertainty. And there is almost always a sense of the humor that accompa-
nies the human predicament. Rick Moody tells the story of his attending a
seminar with the Tibetan Buddhist sage Trungpa Rinpoche in which Moody
asked Trungpa, “But doesn’t this spiritual practice stuff get boring?” At that
point Trungpa took out a water pistol and shot Moody in the face! We have
a tendency in our culture to treat spiritual matters seriously, but sages know
that there is also great humor in our fumbling attempts to understand the
ground of being, connect with that ground, and live from that connection. As
Manheimer (1999) pointed out, humor can be an expression of wisdom, the
result of a heightened state of consciousness and a philosophical outlook.
Part of wisdom is understanding that we cannot act on every impulse we
have to care for others. We have to have as much compassion for ourselves
as for those we serve. Actualized sages know that to be able to serve over
the long haul requires attention to pacing, establishing a humane life routine.
These sages do not try to do everything. They have learned that they must
choose wisely how to spend their precious energies.
Actualized sages are “fully operational” but still developing. Moody and
Carroll (1997) described a circular process of spiritual growth that begins with
a leading, a sense that there is more to be discovered. This creates an open-
ing, during which the spiritual seeker looks around for new opportunities for
spirit ual journe ying
growth. There is often a struggle as the person attempts to understand and to in-
tegrate new understanding with old. Then the individual often breaks through
to a new level of integrated understanding. Finally, she or he focuses on how
to bring that new insight back into the world. Actualized sages know that they
may go through many more cycles of spiritual development. It is a territory
that is incompletely mapped, yet actualized sages have faith in the process.
tr anscendent sages
Transcendent sages have developed the capacity to abide in the highest levels
of spiritual consciousness. They tend to be quiet and to speak only when they
have something they feel compelled to say. They are holders of the spiritual
field within which others struggle to become and act as sages. They are deeply
in touch with a panoramic experience of time.
Ken Wilber (2001) describes the higher levels of consciousness as a “sagely
region” that includes a subtle level, which is transindividual and intuitive; a
causal level, which is experienced as formless radiance and transcendence;
and an ultimate level, in which there is only undifferentiated, infinite con-
sciousness and no separate experiencer. The subtle level of consciousness is
the source of the capacities of generativity and wisdom that are the corner-
stone of being an actualized spiritual elder.
The causal level of consciousness, which manifests itself as radiance and
deep silence and stillness, is the source of the capacity to be a transcendent
sage. At this level, there is little that one feels compelled to say, so there is
much quietude. Yet there can be great joy in continuing to participate in the
routine activities that constitute life, including routine religious and spiritual
activities and quiet participation in community.
By abiding at a level of consciousness close to the source of spirit, transcen-
dent sages “hold the field.” That is, their presence and quality of being consis-
tently remind more active participants why they are interested in the process
of becoming sages. Transcendent sages attract our attention through their
manifest connection with the ground of all being. It is not what they do, but
how they are that is their contribution to the group. Consider two examples.
gray eyes, and ready smile. There is a serenity about William’s being that
many people in the group have remarked on. There is also a sense that
the group is missing an important presence when William is not there.
James attends the same worship group. He is in his early 90s and has
numerous chronic conditions that cause him to move about slowly. He
is nearly blind and in a great deal of chronic pain. When asked, he ac-
knowledges that his physical existence is not very enjoyable at his stage of
frailty. Yet in the worship group, James will occasionally stand and ecstat-
ically recite a psalm from memory. At these times he is completely trans-
ported by the Source of the Psalms, and the renderings invariably leave
the group uplifted and in awe of this gentle man’s connection with God.
Neither William nor James takes a lead in the operation of the group. Focused
more on just being present, they leave the logistics to the “youngsters,” many
of whom are in their 60s and 70s.
Schachter-Shalomi and Miller (1995) assert that sages have a panoramic
view of time. Transcendent sages have a type of consciousness that abides
“under the aspect of eternity,” that sees time not as a commodity or an in-
strumental need but as a vast panorama, of which our human lifetime is but
a small part. Ram Dass (2000, 141) wrote that sages-in-training are learning
to live by “soul time” and that souls live by a different calendar, one in which
“our egos are like mayflies that are born in the morning and die in the eve-
ning.” This panoramic view of time redirects values away from the material-
istic concerns of our current culture and toward more holistic values, which
respect the needs of the entire planet. From a panoramic view of time, we can
be patient and persistent and are less likely to become frustrated if we do not
immediately achieve our objectives. This perspective on time supports the
quietude that characterizes transcendent sages.
Transcendent sages do not stand out. They have little interest in standing
out. Yet they are there to see if we only look. Another paradox is that some
of the role models we desperately need are right there in front of us, but we
don’t see them.
conclusion
The idea that elders can possess a high capacity to bring spirituality into their
lives and into the world has been around for thousands of years. But what is
spirit ual journe ying
it about later life that brings this about? The concept of spiritual development
presumes that humans have the capacity to evolve spiritually, to identify with
their spiritual nature, and, over time, to strengthen their conscious connec-
tion to this sacred aspect of self. This development enhances the chances that
a person will be able to manifest wisdom as he or she develops spiritually. The
concept of the spiritual elder presumes that spiritual development and later
life stages can combine to affect how sages act in various social roles and also
to prepare individuals to manifest themselves as sages and assume the role of
spiritual elder.
Becoming a sage is an evolutionary process through which spiritual de-
velopment is nurtured, the capacity for wisdom develops, and an individual
learns what is needed to prepare for and take up the role of spiritual elder
and to be a sage. The openness that aging can create through child launching
and retirement can also be an opening to become a sage-in-training. No one
knows why some people are drawn to this possibility as a conscious journey,
why others unconsciously develop spiritually, and why still others show no
signs of spirituality.
Although spiritual development involves continuous cycles of develop-
ment, being a sage is manifested in ways that are loosely related to stages of
later life. At the beginning of later life (the 60s), many people are involved
in being sages-in-training, engaging the inner tasks of spiritual growth, and
learning from their elders how to behave as a spiritual elder. They are becom-
ing “rooted in their being.” In the middle of later life (the 70s and early 80s)
many who have been on the journey have become actualized sages, fully in
touch with their spiritual nature and able to keep that nature at the center as
they function in the world. They are adept at “being while doing.” In old age
(the mid-80s and older), transcendent sages are common. These people are
radiantly at peace and are “being and transcending.”
A recurring theme in this chapter has been that sages and spiritual elders
are not rare and that by raising consciousness about the characteristics of
sages and the process of becoming a sage, we can better recognize them. And
as we recognize the extraordinary depth that sages and spiritual elders bring
to our collective quality of life, we may come to see value in creating more
opportunities for sages to be a more visible part of our world.
chapter five
Transpersonal Sociology and
Serving from Spirit
This chapter deals with two questions: How would social organizations look if
they were populated, organized, and managed by people with a transpersonal
viewpoint and philosophy of life? and, What is spiritually centered service to
the community and how does it differ from other kinds of service?
For these questions, the existing literature is of little help. Although or-
ganizational management and service are familiar topics in the literature of
various religious traditions, in American culture nearly all of this discussion
takes a Western, instrumental view of these as practical rather than spiritual
concerns. Our literature pays scant attention to the spiritual development of
the people in the spiritual community and how it might affect the values of the
community, how people are organized to promote those values, the processes
spiritually developed people use to approach goals, and how their processes
might differ from conventionally organized spiritual communities.
For twenty years I taught organizational management, first for thirteen
years in a mainstream academic environment and later for seven years in a
university community that aimed to prepare students to approach their work
from a contemplative perspective. Because I believe that to teach a subject,
one needs experience in the field as well as familiarity with the literature, I
did extended field placements and made many site visits to a wide variety
of types of organization, particularly professional organizations and service
organizations in the field of aging. These experiences provided me with an
experiential base I could use to understand how organizations with a critical
mass of people with a transpersonal viewpoint differ from organizations that
take the hierarchical, competitive approach to organizational life widely used
in American culture.
spirit ual journe ying
This chapter attempts to present what I have learned about this topic—the
ideas I have developed about how organizations and communities can suc-
cessfully operate using principles of transpersonal sociology. It is necessarily
sketchy, and it is filled with conclusions that need to be verified by other in-
vestigators. But I think this is an important topic, and I offer this discussion
as a starting point, as food for thought, and as a stimulus for future research.
In my experience, organizations that operate using principles of transper-
sonal sociology are much more elder-friendly than are traditional top-down
organizations.
The word trans is of Latin origin and means beyond, on the other side. The
term transpersonal first came into use to describe an approach to psychology
that acknowledges and incorporates the transcendent, or spiritual, aspects
of the human mind, which can be joined with cognitive and developmental
psychology to create a more holistic approach (Walsh and Vaughan 1993).
Transpersonal consciousness transcends personal awareness and leads to a
nonpersonal realm within awareness. Transpersonal psychology acknowl-
edges that there are multiple states and levels of consciousness, that psycho-
logical development tends toward higher or ultimate human potential, that
higher levels of consciousness are nonpersonal or transpersonal in that they
are beyond ego-centered consciousness, and that higher levels of conscious-
ness are transcendent and spiritual.
Transpersonal sociology asks how social psychology, interpersonal rela-
tionships, and group dynamics are affected by the presence in a group, organi-
zation, community, or society of large proportions of people whose conscious-
ness is at a transpersonal level. In The Perennial Philosophy, Aldous Huxley
(1944) surveyed the wisdom of sages from a variety of spiritual traditions
and wrote that most traditions contain the idea that beyond the phenomenal
world of matter and individualized consciousness there is a manifestation in
consciousness of what he called “the ground of all being within.” The Quakers
say, “There is that of God within everyone.” The Bible says people are “made
in God’s image,” and this can be taken to mean that God is within us, waiting
to be manifested. The Koran says that God pervades everything, including us.
Buddhists believe that we all contain a great emptiness or space and that if we
dwell in that space, we transcend ego.
Huxley goes on to say that not only can we know the ground of being by
transpersonal sociology and serving from spirit
the culture matter. Elders earn added respect by their way of being, which is
honed through many years of practice. Members of the community under-
stand and value the process of “becoming a sage.”
Values in a transpersonal community center on nurturing spiritual con-
nection in its people and creating community culture based on that connec-
tion. If everyone from all times and all places is assumed to have or have had
a spark of the ground of being within themselves, then spiritual texts from a
variety of traditions are welcome as food for thought, but authority does not
come from texts; it emerges from the collective consciousness of the com-
munity, from their contemplative practice together. Members of the commu-
nity seek to dwell in the now as transcendent beings. As Eckhart Tolle (2003)
points out in Stillness Speaks, this Now is not a nanosecond but a timeless
place, not fixated on ideas of past or future for purposes of manipulation or
self-aggrandizement.
Values such as nonviolence, respect, fairness, honesty, integrity, and sim-
plicity are not givens; they emerge out of experience in a transpersonal com-
munity. Injunctions to community members tend to be general, and much is
left to the contemplative interpretation of the members.
I want to digress briefly to illustrate how this process can lead to a spiri-
tual/ethical framework that can be used to guide community members. In
many ways, the Buddhist eightfold path (Surya Das 1997) efficiently describes
the general orientation of many groups that use principles of transpersonal
sociology.
Wisdom Training
1. Right View
2. Right Intention
Ethics Training
3. Right Speech
4. Right Action
5. Right Livelihood
Meditation Training
6. Right Effort
7. Right Mindfulness
8. Right Concentration
(Ibid., 93)
transpersonal sociology and serving from spirit
The eight subjects contained in the eightfold path are not meant to imply
a linear set of steps. Instead, they are depicted as a circle, with all eight top-
ics interconnected at a hub in the middle (figure 11). In the descriptions of
the eightfold path, the word right is used not in a context of right and wrong
but rather in a context of completeness or inclusiveness, coherence, and con-
nectedness.
Thus, right view is facing the ultimate with openness and willingness to
transcend the personal. Right intention is aiming to live as much as possible
from a nonpersonal, self-transcendent perspective, which supports processes
such as good will and nonviolence toward others. Mastering these two topics
is called wisdom training.
Right speech involves being aware of the effects of one’s speech and using
speech in a nonadversarial way. Principles of right speech include: speak the
truth—don’t lie; use words to help, not harm; don’t gossip or tell tales; and
speak kindly, not harshly or abusively (ibid., 173–78). Right action involves
basic dos and don’ts such as: don’t kill; don’t take what isn’t given freely; give
to others in need; refrain from habits that harm body, mind, and spirit. Right
livelihood involves making a living ethically and from spiritual conscious-
ness. Together, right speech, right action, and right livelihood are called ethics
training because contemplative ethics involves a process of bringing spiritual
awareness to these three important areas of life.
spirit ual journe ying
Right effort involves a passion for spiritual growth. Right mindfulness in-
volves being rooted in the Now, and right concentration involves being able
to remain focused spiritually amid the trials and tribulations of everyday life.
These capacities are called meditation training because they deal with differ-
ent aspects of remaining spiritually awake and paying attention.
The eightfold path is but one example of a system designed to give guid-
ance to those who wish to live a spiritually centered life. Its main virtue is its
generality. How each of the elements plays out in an individual life depends
on how that individual engages life issues with mindfulness and transpersonal
awareness. Group culture built up from this process is different from group
culture that is imposed “top down.”
Now let us return to our example community. Within the community,
small groups of members gather to gently serve others who are struggling
with their spiritual journey, mostly by compassionate listening. The contem-
plative group process in the community minimizes the possibility that the
group will be led astray by a charismatic egotist, because decisions are not
made in haste and must be based in consensus. By the time everyone is per-
suaded of the value of a course of action, it is unlikely to be based in someone’s
misguided or self-centered interpretation of a situation. This does not mean
that decision making is easy, and often a clear course of action may take some
time to appear. Mistakes happen and so does self-forgiveness, both within
individuals and within the community.
Clearness is a vital part of the process. When people regularly practice
coming to discussion from a place of contemplation, transpersonal con-
sciousness, and beingness, their capacity to see the world as it is and not as
they might wish it to be is greatly enhanced. Compassion is a second vital
element. Compassion is rooted in universal love, an experience that does not
come through personal consciousness but through transpersonal or nonper-
sonal consciousness. Compassion is not the overly idealistic romantic love
that we see in movies or on television. It is a feeling of enormous well-being
that comes with the experience of being connected to all things through the
ground of being.
Parker Palmer (2004) tells the following story, which he calls “true com-
munity.”
Five years after leaving Berkeley, I found myself sitting in circles again. This
time it was at Pendle Hill, a Quaker living-learning community near Phila-
delphia, where I spent eleven years starting in the mid-1970s. But these
transpersonal sociology and serving from spirit
circles, I soon discovered, were of a different sort. They were not heady,
aggressive, self-congratulatory, or manipulative. They were gentle, respect-
ful, and reverent in the way they honored self and world, and slowly they
changed my life.
In these quiet Quaker circles, people were doing neither the amateur
psychotherapy nor the faux politics that I had experienced in Berkeley. In-
stead, they were doing therapy and politics rightly understood: reaching in
toward their own wholeness, reaching out toward the world’s needs, and
trying to live their lives at the intersection of the two.
In these quiet Quaker circles, I saw people challenged, but I never saw
anyone harmed. I witnessed more personal transformation than I had seen
before, and I watched more people embrace their social responsibilities as
well. That was when I started to understand why Quakers, who have always
been few in number, have often been over-represented in the great social
issues of their time.
The circles of trust I experienced at Pendle Hill are a rare form of com-
munity—one that supports rather than supplants the individual quest for
integrity—that is rooted in two basic beliefs. First, we all have an inner
teacher whose guidance is more reliable than anything we can get from a
doctrine, ideology, collective belief system, institution, or leader. Second,
we all need other people to invite, amplify, and help us discern the inner
teacher’s voice for at least three reasons:
The journey toward inner truth is too taxing to be made solo: lacking
support, the solitary traveler soon becomes weary or fearful and is likely to
quit the road.
The path is too deeply hidden to be traveled without company: finding
our way involves clues that are subtle and sometimes misleading, requiring
the kind of discernment that can happen only in dialogue.
The destination is too daunting to be achieved alone: we need commu-
nity to find the courage to venture into the alien land to which the inner
teacher may call us.
I want to dwell for a moment on that little word discern, which means
“distinguishing between things.” I think again of C. S. Lewis’s tales of Narnia,
that land of inwardness the children enter through the back of the magical
wardrobe. There is much in Narnia that is good and beautiful, especially the
voice of truth—the voice of Aslan, the great lion—that is sometimes heard
in the land. But there are other voices in Narnia as well, voices of tempta-
tion, deception, darkness, and evil. It takes four children, a variety of guides,
spirit ual journe ying
and seven volumes of pitfalls and perils to sift through this mix of messages
and travel toward the truth.
Occasionally, I hear people say, “The world is such a confusing place
that I can find clarity only by going within.” Well I, for one, find it at least as
confusing “in here” as it is “out there”—usually more so!—and I think most
people do. If we get lost in New York City, we can buy a map, ask a local,
or find a cabbie who knows the way. The only guidance we can get on the
inner journey comes through relationships in which others help us discern
our feelings.
But the kind of community I learned about at Pendle Hill does not pre-
sume to do that discernment for us, as communities sometimes do: “You
tell us your version of truth, and we will tell you whether you are right or
wrong!” Instead, a circle of trust holds us in a space where we can make our
own discernments, in our own way and time, in the encouraging and chal-
lenging presence of other people. (25–27)
sure being sufficiently informed to serve effectively. This does not mean pas-
sively accepting other people’s definitions of what is good, true, or beautiful;
it means making sure to understand the situation before weighing in with
suggestions for change.
A person who is accomplished at serving from spirit is able to stay spiritu-
ally centered amid the ups and downs of working in an organizational environ-
ment, often in situations involving people who are in desperate need. Those
serving from spirit are also knowledgeable about how to work within the or-
ganizational context and with the types of people who are to be served.
People find their way to spiritual paths and to community service in many
ways. The mind, the ego, the heart, the body, and the soul can each lead us.
But if people are only listening to one part of being, then they are not taking
advantage of all their resources for being clear about what they are doing
or thinking about doing. Listening to one’s entire being involves cultivating
sensitivity to each dimension of being. This possibility is greatly enhanced
by contemplative practice—meditation, rumination, and inner stillness and
quietude. In this sense, contemplative practice is an important companion
on both the inner spiritual journey and the outer journey of service. Contem-
plative practice can put people in touch with higher levels of consciousness,
from which it is possible to see clearly the workings of mind and ego, true
compassion, actions that would truly be of service, and a pace that is healthy
for the body.
We are the main character in the drama. But as soon as we begin to witness
our ordinary self, we have transcended that self and can see it more clearly
than we possibly could from the middle of our ego-agendas of desire or fear.
To the witness, we are only one of the characters in the drama and not nec-
essarily the most important one at a given moment. When we look into the
eyes of another person and realize that we are looking at another being just
like us, we can experience a unity-level of consciousness. Witness and unity
consciousness are both transcendent levels of awareness that make it more
possible to grow spiritually and to serve effectively.
Being wise and having compassion are not all-or-nothing conditions. They
are qualities that exist in degrees. They are not something we have but are
capacities we can develop. They are qualities that we might be able to bring
into being in a given situation. If we have cultivated wisdom and compassion,
we have a greater capacity to manifest those qualities, but this happens in the
present moment. Whether we can manifest wisdom and compassion depends
on how centered we can remain. When we are in a situation of service, we are
usually called to be wise and to be compassionate. How well we can do this
depends a great deal on how long we have been practicing wisdom and com-
passion. In practice, a circle of sages is always more effective than a single sage
precisely because even sages cannot be all things to all people.
Often we think of service as something that involves volunteering or work-
ing within an organizational context. However, service is really an intention
that we can take with us into a wide variety of situations. What would happen
if we went joyfully about our daily lives seeing every person as someone we
could potentially serve, in however small a way? What would happen if we
took every opportunity to tend our planet and our environment? Often these
do not involve big programs or long-term tasks but are things we can do mo-
ment by moment by moment. It takes only a few minutes to listen intently to
someone who needs a receptive ear; it takes only a few seconds to pick up a
piece of trash. The feeling of service is something that happens in the pres-
ent moment, whether we are doing it in an organizational context or on our
own.
spirit ual journe ying
Each new service environment we enter has its own language and customs,
and we need to give ourselves time to assimilate these elements. Otherwise we
risk behaving in ways that seem arrogant, naïve, or clueless to those already
working in the environment. Curiosity and humility provide a useful stance
from which to pay one’s dues and earn the respect of others in the environ-
ment. It is helpful to be careful about assuming that knowledge from another
field can be readily adapted to a new situation. Asking lots of questions and
asking for help learning the ropes can be useful strategies.
Much of our service occurs in an organizational context. What are the mis-
transpersonal sociology and serving from spirit
sion and vision of the organization? What values serve to anchor its opera-
tion? What are its major goals? What outcomes does it seek? To what extent
are the clients involved in setting goals? Who are the major stakeholders in
the success of the organization? These and many other questions create a big
picture within which our service work will take place. It’s important to know
how our work fits into the whole.
Effective service is based in a balance between caring for others and caring
for oneself. Each of us needs rest, nourishment, and perspective if we are to
be able to serve over the long run. Rest is not just sleep, although sleep is
important. Rest also occurs when we pace ourselves so that we are not living
in a perpetually rushed state. Nourishment of the body is equally important,
but so is nourishment of the mind and spirit. Contemplative reading of sacred
texts or books and articles on spiritual themes is an example of a practice that
nourishes the mind. Meditation is an example of a restful practice that nour-
ishes the spirit. Movement disciplines such as yoga and tai chi can stretch
and relax the body and release built-up tensions. Leading a contemplative
life aimed at nurturing the whole person provides a perspective that allows
us to bring enough love to our acts of service that we can endure the pain of
compassion.
conclusion
Despite a social world that has a negative orientation toward aging, most ag-
ing and older people have good health, high self-acceptance and self-esteem,
a high degree of life satisfaction, a satisfying and meaningful lifestyle, and
a long-standing convoy of social support (Atchley and Barusch 2004). This
happens because over decades of life experience, a large majority of adults
have developed robust ideas about what they want out of life and how to get
it. Most people don’t just sit back and let life happen; they try to influence the
directions it takes for them. They usually understand that they don’t control
life’s direction, but they believe they can influence it. They have enduring val-
ues that serve as the basis for their life structure, their day-to-day decision
making, and their vision of a desired future. They are also resilient; they have
encountered enough surprises, contradictions, and paradoxes in life to know
that they have to pay attention and cope when the situation demands it. What
they have learned from life is a powerful resource for coping. Most have also
discovered that coping is easier when done with the support of others.
Focus on the inner life, service to others, and deepening connection with
the sacred are bright spots of growth and development for most elders. Many
elders see these trends as fully available to them and as goals around which
they can organize their lives. The sense of optimism and equanimity that
comes from leading this sort of life is also a great resource for coping.
When we see elders for whom things have gone awry, we can look to their
personal systems for clues concerning unwanted discontinuities, an inade-
quate sense of meaning, and a murky view of where they are headed.
Thus, the strong coping capacity most elders possess rests on an equanim-
ity that comes from continuity of values, lifestyles, and relationships, plus
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
continuit y
— Using continuity strategies to pursue goals and adapt to change does not
necessarily lead to successful results, but if we take life satisfaction as a mea-
sure of success, then continuity is usually a successful adaptive strategy.
— General patterns of thought, behavior, and relationships are robust and can
accommodate considerable change in detailed patterns without triggering
a sense of discontinuity.
— Through decision making about self-concept, life course, and lifestyle and
experiencing the consequences, individuals acquire a sense of personal
agency and efficacy.
— Enduring patterns of thought, behavior, and relationship are the result of
selective investments of time and attention made by individuals over a pe-
riod of many years.
— Continuity of general patterns of thought, behavior, and relationship is the
first strategy people usually attempt to use to achieve their goals and adapt
to changing circumstances.
— Continuity of personal goals provides people with an enduring sense of de-
velopmental direction.
(Adapted from Atchley, 1999: 151–54)
spiritual development
Many elders participate in small circles of friends who support one another
on their life journeys, including their spiritual journeys. There are also groups
that focus their attention specifically on the spiritual journey. Many religious
communities have numerous small groups that serve this purpose. They may
be called study groups, women’s groups, men’s groups, or issue groups, but
many of them also provide support to the group members as they grapple
with life issues, including spiritual development.
Not everyone is lucky enough to be part of a spiritual community that
fosters such groups. The Sage-ing Guild was created both to promote inner
spiritual work and to recover the role of sage in the community. It offers edu-
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
much a spiritual practice. Clear seeing demands that we be able to stand out-
side our personal agendas, and spiritual development promotes this process.
When we are committed to service, we see opportunities everywhere and
we don’t have to be preoccupied with whether we have the “authority” or are
“required” to serve.
coping
tion with the universe, and got more enjoyment from their inner life (Atchley
1999).
When we see elders just sitting, we are quick to assume that there is noth-
ing going on, but we may be wrong. I had the following conversation with an
80-year-old woman:
“There are times when you seem to be in a far-off place in your mind,” I
said.
“Yes,” she said.
“Is it a pleasant place?” I asked.
“Oh, my, yes,” she said.
“Can you tell me what it is like?” I asked.
She replied, “Words don’t describe it. It’s warm and cozy. Thoughts come
and go, but are of no importance. I feel completely at peace.”
spiritual needs
Elizabeth MacKinlay (2006, 69) wrote that “if we do not assess for spiritual
needs, we will not even begin to notice these needs nor begin to find ways of
addressing them. As I see it, spiritual needs underlie the psychosocial needs
of people—they lie at the very core of what it is to be human. If we neglect
these, especially for people at critical points of their lives and for those who
are facing their frailty, dying, and death, then we neglect something equally
important as failing to provide food. . . . Spiritual care can no longer be an
optional care component.” MacKinlay sees the need for meaning as the most
fundamental spiritual need. Creating a spiritual life that provides a sense of
ultimate meaning gives a resource for putting life events, both positive and
negative, into context, transcending losses and disabilities, creating a sustain-
ing sense of connection with the sacred, and developing the capacity for deep
inner peace.
Because spirituality is highly subjective, assessing spiritual needs does not
lend itself to standardized approaches to needs assessment. While writing
this book, I talked with many people about their spiritual journeys, and in
these conversations I was struck by how often the spiritual process involved
contemplating and working with profound questions. I began writing these
c o n t i n u i t y, s p i r i t ua l g r o w t h , a n d c o p i n g
questions down and organizing them into categories. Then I began offering
them to people as a resource for personal spiritual self-assessment. Many
people found them useful, and many also found them daunting. These ques-
tions are reproduced in this book as Appendix B, Questions for Reflection
and Spiritual Self-Assessment. The format supports self-assessment, but the
questions could easily be modified for use as a way of finding out about spiri-
tual needs. Spiritual needs, which are not apparent on the surface, are some
of the most subjective, deeply private needs we have, and approaching them
through asking general questions has worked well for me. In interviews, I also
found it best to begin with one or two basic questions rather than overwhelm
the respondent with the full list.
challenges to coping
Most elders live in a world in which continuity and spiritual development are
robust resources for coping. However, two things can happen to make elders
more vulnerable: disability and thinning of the social network. When this
happens, continuity needs to be seen as evolutionary, not business as usual.
With brittle continuity, elders try to maintain independence, often at the ex-
pense of social contact. Elders needing long-term care prefer to get it at home,
but unless they have a rich social network indeed, they may find themselves
increasingly isolated.
Research shows that elders are constantly making new acquaintances and
developing new friendships. But as people become homebound, this becomes
more difficult. Unless they are tied into a community with strong outreach,
elders can find themselves in a situation in which the only people they see
are those who are paid to visit—often not a good situation. Mrs. E’s story il-
lustrates the difficulties increased disability can pose for those who “age in
place.”
At 75, Mrs. E had had a stroke, which left her balance impaired and
required that she give up driving and use a three-wheeled walker to get
around. Gradually she lost contact with many of her friends. They came
to see her at first, but as the months went by they gradually stopped
visiting. Her sisters were also becoming more impaired, and their visits
became much less frequent, although they kept in touch by phone. Mrs.
E required help with bathing, meal preparation, medication management,
and housekeeping. She could no longer do flower arranging or decorating
without assistance, and because getting out was so difficult, she became
increasingly housebound.
Without the mental stimulation of being with others, Mrs. E became
increasingly paranoid, more and more fearful about new residents in the
neighborhood and even the service providers who came to set up her
medication trays or deliver meals. Her activities consisted of watching
television, cooking an occasional meal, reading the newspaper, poring
over catalogs, and talking with her sisters on the phone. She became in-
creasingly isolated.
At 79, Mrs. E had another stroke, which was at least in part brought on
by her inability to follow her medication regimen. She was worried about
the expense of her medications and would save pills instead of taking
them. Her doctors did not expect her to survive this stroke, but she did.
During her lengthy recovery, she lived in a nursing home near her daugh-
ter, who lived in an adjacent state. Gradually, she recovered her ability to
speak and walk with a walker. Because she was in a rich social environ-
ment in the nursing home, she also recovered her excellent social skills
and made many new friends. The art therapy staff person at the nursing
home was encouraging, and Mrs. E discovered an interest in watercolors.
Some of her watercolors were featured in local exhibitions. The activities
program at the nursing home offered her many opportunities to listen
to musical performances, attend religious services, do her art, and keep
up with current events—all things she had stopped doing when she was
housebound.
Mrs. E and I had the following conversation about a year after her move to
the nursing home.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I like it here,” she said.
“What’s so special about here?”
“The people. I have lots of people to help me, I get to do a lot of things
I enjoy, I get to see [her daughter and son-in-law] more, and I can still
talk to my sisters on the phone. I’ve made new friends. Art excites me.”
At 80, Mrs. E seemed more contented with life than she did at 75. Her
case illustrates how a supportive environment can help a person reconstitute
continuity. Mrs. E’s awakened interest in art, which she sees as related to her
earlier activity of flower arranging, is a new spiritual connection for her.
conclusion
In working with elders, we must remember that most elders have two some-
what contradictory goals: remaining independent and maintaining their social
network. Often, to maintain the social network means having to accept help
both in getting out and in bringing people in. The need to be independent and
self-reliant, which is so important to most people, can become a hindrance
to good adaptation when disability occurs. Without help, everyday tasks of
self-care become so energy- and time-intensive that they are all-consuming
and leave little in the way of resources for activities that maintain quality of
life. One way to work with this situation is to include social elements in care
plans. Being in the flow of art or music is not of instrumental value in terms
of meeting the body’s needs, but it can nourish the soul. And both art and
music can have the advantage of not being dependent on verbal ability. Thus,
they are not just activities designed to keep people busy. They can also have
spiritual and healing qualities.
Continuity theory can help us map the personal systems of those we serve.
By asking careful questions about what has been important to persons in the
past, we can see how to help them see ways to realize their underlying values
in the present. However, we cannot expect them to voluntarily turn their back
on a life structure that has served them well in the past. That is why most peo-
ple cannot see anything good about moving to an assisted living or nursing
home setting. They need help in seeing continuity in their life before and after
the move. Most fundamentally, continuity resides in the values that inform
choice, not just in the specifics of everyday environments and activities.
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
I have painted an optimistic picture of aging and the human spirit based
on my thirty-five years of research on adaptation to various aspects of ag-
ing. I have gained tremendous respect for the people I have studied, for their
magnificent insights and capabilities. I also have great admiration for their
capacity to prevail in the face of what sometimes seem insurmountable dif-
ficulties. My main points are that continuity of values, attitudes, lifestyles,
and relationships, as well as spiritual development in later adulthood, provide
most people with robust resources for coping with changing circumstances
and also provide a sense of direction.
To be of help to elders, we can benefit from having a framework within
which we can learn about their personal systems. Those who work with elders
can use these perspectives to discover and support their clients’ aspirations
for the last stages of life.
Continuity and spiritual growth are robust resources that see most people
through the aging process. But disability and a thinning social network can
create a need to reconfigure the personal system. Many people need outreach
services that accompany and support them as they modify their personal sys-
tem to their new circumstances. Continuity and spiritual development are
helpful in this process, too.
chapter seven
Spiritual Beliefs and Practices
and the Experience of
Time and Aging
This chapter is about the influence of spiritual beliefs and practices on the
experience of time as people age. To deal effectively with this complex topic,
we must look briefly at several meanings of time and at why the experience of
chronological time might accelerate with age. Then we can examine spiritual
beliefs about time and practices that might affect perceptions of time. Finally,
we can consider how spiritual beliefs and practices might mediate the rela-
tionship between age and the experience of time.
Life is too short. This common saying is seldom uttered by young people;
it is used by middle-aged and older people to indicate that time is precious
and that we cannot afford to waste it, especially on interpersonal conflicts
or frustrating activities. But the experience of time depends on the context,
which includes age and spiritual beliefs and practices.
Experiential time can be fast or slow; it is relative. As Albert Einstein said,
“When you sit with a nice girl for two hours, you think it’s only a minute. But
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
when you sit on a hot stove for a minute, you think it’s two hours. That’s rela-
tivity” (Safransky 1990, 49). The subjective nature of experienced time does
not mean that it is not affected by social and cultural influences. Indeed, like
most personal mental constructs, the meaning of time is conditioned by so-
cial norms and expectations.
Historical time stretches back at least five thousand years in the written
record and forward as far as the mind can project, but this sense of the word
year is different from the meaning we attach to a calendar year because we
can experience the passing of a calendar year whereas we cannot experience
a millennium. Unless we transcend our own potential lifetime in our view of
the future, we cannot think about the needs of future generations. Being able
to think in panoramic time is thus an important human skill.
We are all tied to the various biological clocks within our bodies that influ-
ence the processes of senescence. We experience the effects of these biological
clocks, such as gradual stiffening of joints in later adulthood, even though they
operate outside our consciousness and therefore outside our experience.
By contrast, we are constantly made aware of chronological time because
it is used to order our lives. Unlike preliterate societies, which tended to use
rough measures of time, based mostly on movement of the sun, phases of the
moon, change of seasons, and annual cycles of animal and plant life, mod-
ern and postmodern societies are fixated on chronological time. Most of us
carry devices strapped to our wrists that allow us to know the chronological
time reasonably precisely. We use technology to keep our room temperature
constant across the seasons and to light our environments at all hours of the
day and night, which allows us to ignore the natural rhythms of daylight and
darkness. Our lives are organized around a time to arise, a time to go to work,
time schedules at work, times to eat, times for prayer, times for recreation,
and a time for sleep. Constructing an ideal lifestyle in today’s world could be
expected to include a daily routine tied to the clock. Clock time is used so
extensively to organize our many activities that few people can get by without
a time-planning device such as a detailed calendar.
In addition to hourly, daily, seasonal, and annual cycles of time, the cul-
tural life course sets forth general chronological age ranges at which we are
expected to move from one life stage to another. Thus, most people enter
middle age around age 40, later adulthood around age 60, and old age around
80. These cultural life stages are composite pictures of lifestyles and values
that are expected of persons in a particular life stage. Most people go through
the various life-stage transitions on schedule, chronologically.
spirit ual beliefs, pr ac tic e s, time, and aging
ence. Spiritual experience includes sensory and psychological input but ex-
tends to include transcendent ways of knowing as well.
To develop understanding of how aging interacts with the experience of
time and how this relationship may be mediated by spiritual beliefs and prac-
tices requires concepts about the many relationships among aging, spirituality,
and time. We will illustrate how this might be done by selectively reviewing
beliefs about the meaning of time in various spiritual traditions, by discuss-
ing the relationship between various spiritual practices and the experience of
time, and by looking at how spiritual beliefs and practices might mediate the
relationship between aging and the experience of time.
Young and middle-aged adults are often expected to focus their attention
on relatively short-range goals, such as getting a formal education, main-
taining a connection with the economy, selecting a life partner and rearing
children, and contributing their energies to the community. Leaders of busi-
.
the first Christian meditation guide to have been originally written in the Eng-
lish language, the anonymous fourteenth-century author holds that God is
obscured by a “cloud of unknowing,” which can be navigated only by assuming
an open stance of bare being. The cloud of unknowing is within the experi-
encer, not something external, but to even sense the cloud of unknowing, the
meditator must leave worldly concerns, including time, behind in a “cloud of
forgetting.” This conception of God is similar to the Hindu conception of the
Absolute. Eternal God, or Absolute, is not characterized by infinite time but
by an absence of time. Thus, if people connect with the experience of God
or the Absolute within themselves, they transcend time as well as the other
aspects of a phenomenal world bound by concepts such as time and space. As
Ken Wilber (2001, 148) put it, “The Absolute can be present in its entirety at
every point in time only if [the Absolute] is itself timeless.” This same general
perspective is contained in the Buddhist concept of nothingness, which is less
an absence or void than no-thing-ness; not this, not that, but an entirety in
which ideas such as subject/object, time, and space do not apply.
To experience “the ground of being,” Aldous Huxley’s (1944) term for the
ultimate principle that forms the eternal context for spiritual experience, thus
requires that we transcend conventional consciousness. A major obstacle to
transcendence is being distracted by worldly concerns. Although it may be
possible by strength of will to develop the skill needed to be “in the world but
not of it” early in life, transcendence is thought to be more common in later
life, for the reasons mentioned above.
Paradoxically, aging is also thought to make possible a greater capacity to
be in the present. Although stereotypes hold that elders dwell excessively in
the past, my research has shown that healthy elders living in the community
experience a balance of thoughts and experiences from the past, present, and
future (Atchley 1999). Indeed, the proportion of elders who have the capacity
to patiently attend to the present with present-moment awareness is much
greater than that of young and middle-aged adults. Present-moment aware-
ness is also a form of timelessness, in the sense that the present moment, not
the passage of time, is of the essence.
Various religious traditions contain rituals that are designed to break the hold
of the everyday world on consciousness. For instance, the Jewish concept of
the Sabbath is more than just a day of rest; it is a time for renewing one’s
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
relationship with God. The Muslim practice of daily prayer creates five op-
portunities each day—on arising, at midday, in mid-afternoon, at sunset, and
when retiring for the evening—to focus attention on the divine. Catholic mo-
nastic traditions schedule breaks for prayer and contemplation seven times
each day: at daybreak, around 9 am, at noon, at 3 pm, about 6 pm, in the
early evening, and at midnight. Most meditation-based traditions encourage
practitioners to have a specific time for meditation each day in order to make
meditation a habit. These rituals all use concepts of time to create pauses in
the swirl of worldly activities, pauses during which attention can be focused
on ultimate concerns.
The discipline of regular spiritual practice over time creates a rhythm of
connection with the ground of being, and this rhythm can become a self-sus-
taining system in the sense that, in all their variety, the experiences that come
from spiritual practice become ends in themselves. Over time, contemplative
prayer and meditation may become less means to an end and more ends in
themselves, and in most cases this occurs over an extended period of time.
Meditation is a central spiritual practice in many spiritual traditions. Un-
fortunately, the word meditation often evokes a stereotype of people dressed
in flowing robes and sitting in the lotus position. People confuse the outer ap-
pearance for the inner intention. In fact, there are many different meditation
methods, and individuals may use one or several of them, depending on their
immediate needs. How various meditation practices influence the experience
of time varies greatly. For example, the Transcendental Meditation technique
uses meditation on a mantra—subvocal sounds that have been found to focus
attention—to induce a transcendent state of consciousness that is completely
beyond sensory and verbal experience. In this state, the meditator loses track
of time completely. On the other hand, Buddhist mindfulness meditation in-
volves paying close attention to sensations of breathing, which focuses at-
tention on simply being rather than on what the body or the mind may be
doing. In the beginning, mindfulness meditators often experience the passage
of time as excruciatingly slow. But after years of daily meditation and inten-
sive meditation retreats, practitioners tend to “give up on time.” As conscious
being becomes a larger and larger part of the mindfulness meditation experi-
ence, which takes time, time often matters less during meditation.
Prayer is also a central spiritual practice for most faith traditions. Prayer
can be classified into ritual prayer, petitionary prayer, and meditative prayer.
Ritual prayer, repeated over and over for countless repetitions, can have tran-
scendental effects, carrying the practitioner out of conventional conscious-
spirit ual beliefs, pr ac tic e s, time, and aging
ness and into greater sensitivity to the divine. But ritual prayer can also induce
a devotional attitude toward God or serve as a reminder of important reli-
gious or spiritual ideas. Petitionary prayer asks something of God. Medita-
tive prayer has little form. The practitioner simply “waits upon the Lord.” The
point is to be present, open, attuned to messages from God, yet not expecting
any specific experience. James Peacock and Margaret Paloma (1991) found
that younger adults were much more likely to engage in ritual and petitionary
prayer compared with older adults, and older adults were much more likely
to engage in meditative prayer compared with younger adults. In my twenty-
year longitudinal study of adults who were age 70 and older at the completion
of the study, I found that the incidence of contemplative prayer increased
substantially with age.
Meditation and prayer are spiritual practices that tend to work mostly with
the mind and basic consciousness. However, movement disciplines such as tai
chi or dance, music, and other arts can also be important spiritual practices.
As spiritual practices, expressive disciplines can invoke what Cszikszentmi-
halyi (1990) calls “flow,” which is experienced as an intense and effortless con-
centration wherein there is no experience of time. Thus, as spiritual practices,
these activities can require intense attention to the present moment; they can
also transcend time.
Virtually none of the studies of changes in how the passage of time is per-
ceived as one ages has been able to look at individual differences that might
be attributable to spiritual beliefs and practices because these studies did not
assess individual spiritual beliefs and practices. In this section, I look at some
possibilities that might be useful for future inquiry.
How might spiritual beliefs and practices mediate the relation between
aging and the experience of time? First, such mediation might occur as a re-
sult of the effects of spiritual beliefs and practices on the potential causes of
altered time perception with age.
For example, some perceptions of a speed-up in time with age may be a re-
sult of paying less attention to time through overhabituation or the experience
of flow. If overhabituation is a cause of the perception that time accelerates
with age, then mindfulness practice could be expected to offset this tendency.
The practice of mindfulness meditation involves intense awareness of the de-
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
path for many years may be able to engage in service without feeling the pres-
sures of time because they take a mindful approach to service, which pro-
motes realistic expectations of what can be accomplished and a let-be attitude
toward time.
If aging causes people to slow down, even though they want to continue in
their customary lifestyle, then aging may cause an increase in time pressure
and a sense that time is speeding up. Many older people drastically simplify
their lifestyles in order to balance their capabilities with their expectations.
The spiritual journey can have an effect here by altering a person’s sense of
priorities. As people grow spiritually, they tend to take a transpersonal view
of life. They often deemphasize their social and materialistic goals in favor of
more enduring inner qualities, such as altruism and generativity.
Beliefs can also mediate the relationship between time and aging. If people
believe that their fundamental being is timeless, then death is less fearsome
and there is little reason to feel that time is running out, which could be ex-
pected to reduce the sense that time is speeding up. On the other hand, if
people believe that death is final and that time is finite, as they get older they
may begin to see time as a scarce resource and to see it as passing faster.
If people believe in a personal afterlife, time is irrelevant in that their life
is eternal. However, if they believe that eternity will be spent either in heaven
or hell and that what they do in this life determines which, they may have a
heightened sense that time is running out and that time is passing ever more
quickly.
If people believe that transcendence and enlightenment are possible, they
may experience these states. People who have transcended their purely per-
sonal concerns are unlikely to be concerned about the pace at which time
passes, regardless of their chronological age.
These various possibilities by no means exhaust the potential ways that
spiritual beliefs and practices might mediate the relationship between aging
and the perception of time. They do illustrate a complex web of possibilities.
As we continue to ask the types of question raised in this book, we will con-
tinue to find that spiritual beliefs and practices have important influences.
I have found it useful to think about human beings as interactive systems in
which bodily systems, knowledge, mental capacities, coping styles, lifestyles,
and social environments interact in complex ways and evolve by incorporat-
ing feedback from experience. From this point of view, physical, psychologi-
cal, and social characteristics are basic structures and processes. Beliefs and
practices of individuals are imbedded in a culture and a society, and change in
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
the individual or in the culture or society can change beliefs or practices. But
changing beliefs or practices can also affect physical, psychological, or social
characteristics, and widespread individual changes in belief or practice can
change culture and social arrangements.
Given that a multitude of specific elements is subsumed under the labels
of beliefs, practices, aging, and adult development, the number of potential
interactions is astronomical. Even if we confine ourselves to the experience
of time as affected by physical, psychological, and social aging and adult de-
velopment, especially spiritual development, the number of potential dimen-
sions to explore is mind-boggling.
conclusion
What difference does spirituality make in the experience of dying and death?
How do dying and death influence spirituality? Those are the central ques-
tions for this chapter. Of course, the answers to these questions are deeply in-
fluenced by how we answer two other questions: What is my spiritual nature?
Am I a person having spiritual experiences or am I a spiritual being having a
human experience?
No topic in this chapter has been adequately studied. The ideas here are
suggestions about issues that might be studied and how one might think
about them and communicate about them. Intellectually, we know that ev-
eryone dies, but as Ernest Becker (1973) pointed out long ago, people tend not
to like this idea, and many societies and cultures have gone to great lengths
to deny that death is real. Many cultural beliefs deny the reality of death by
describing in detail a world to which we pass when our time on this earthly
plane has ended. Becker felt that these many versions of an afterlife served a
single function—to relieve the inevitable anxiety associated with death of the
personal self.
What we believe about both the existence and nature of an afterlife and
conditions for a smooth transition can profoundly influence our experience
when we think about our own death. People who believe that personality and
self somehow transcend their body and continue into an afterlife in some kind
of personal form, and that a virtuous life leads to heaven while an unvirtuous
life leads to hell, may fear death if they are uncertain about whether, as per-
sons, they are virtuous enough to receive the reward of heaven. By contrast,
people who see God as an “infinite sea of being” from which they were spiritu-
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
ally born may see death as a gentle releasing back into that infinite sea, not as
a person but as nonembodied life energy.
Spiritual experiences can give us confidence in cultural beliefs about death
or take confidence away, depending on the match between these experiences
and the substance of our beliefs about death. Consider these examples.
Annie was a long-time meditator who had directly experienced the “Ab-
solute” within herself many times. She saw spaceless and timeless being
as familiar and unthreatening territory. She did not fear personal death.
She saw death as “going home.” By age 88, Annie was blind, nearly deaf,
and severely crippled by painful arthritis. She had fallen several times and
was unable to transfer from her wheelchair without assistance. By her ac-
count, her life had become one of sameness and pain. Annie summoned
her many friends and told them that she was ready to die. She asked them
to accompany her on this last journey. After a ceremonial celebration of
Annie’s life, Annie ceased taking liquids. Her goal was to die as painlessly
as possible. Her friends took shifts being with her around the clock. The
first day without fluid was the hardest for Annie, but after that she was
peaceful and lucid throughout. After five days, Annie was weak but radi-
ant just before she lost consciousness, and several of her friends were
with her two days later when she took her last breath.
Koji was a 60-year-old Japanese man whose family was Buddhist, but
he was not a practicing Buddhist. When he was diagnosed with pancre-
atic cancer and given only a short time to live, Koji was overcome by a
consuming terror. He believed that he would be entering “the Void,” but
he had no experience of this place. To him it seemed a great unknown.
When he thought about his impending death, he experienced a numbing
anxiety throughout his body. His wife would sit with him for long periods
as this usually taciturn man repeated “I don’t want to die—I don’t want to
die” over and over again like a mantra. Nothing seemed to comfort him.
He remained terrified to the end. His lack of spiritual experience or reli-
gious faith gave him no possibility of resources from these areas to help
him cope.
Kenneth believed that Christ was his personal savior and that as long as
Kenneth held this belief, his sins would be forgiven and he would be as-
sured a personal afterlife in heaven. When he was young, Kenneth had
spi r i t ua l i t y a n d t h e e x pe r i e n c e o f dy i n g a n d d e at h
believed this cognitively, but by his 60s he felt it “in his bones.” For him,
this was not a cliché, it was real. At 71, Kenneth was diagnosed with ALS,
commonly called Lou Gehrig’s disease, which is a progressive deteriora-
tion of nerve functioning throughout the body. ALS often involves a long
and painful progression before it finally shuts the body down. Kenneth’s
belief that he was assured of going to heaven was a great comfort to him
through four years of suffering. He said, “I try to remember that the pain
and inability to do things is temporary and to see Jesus looking at me
with incredible love and I know that soon I will be with Him.” Kenneth’s
positive and hopeful perspective inspired those who took care of him.
Sarah grew up Methodist. She attended church regularly throughout her
life, and her faith grew and deepened over time. Familiar hymns and ser-
mons on familiar biblical topics and a community of like-minded people
gave Sarah a deep sense of well-being. She made sure that her daughter
Julia, an only child, regularly attended Sunday school, and Sarah said
prayers with Julia at bedtime each night. When she was 10, Julia was ab-
ducted and murdered. Sarah was devastated. She could not reconcile this
happening with any conception she had of God. The culprit was never
found, and Sarah focused her anger and desolation on God. She took this
event as proof that God does not exist; heaven does not exist; only bleak-
ness exists. Three years after Julia’s death, Sarah’s husband left. Sarah
tried many forms of counseling and took antidepressants, but she never
regained a sense of well-being. Forty-three years later, when Sarah died,
she found no comfort in either spirituality or religion. She saw death as a
release from the “flatness” that had been her life since Julia died. She met
death with relief, but not hope.
Why some people seek refuge in spirituality and religion during difficult
times and others reject spirituality and religion in response to extreme hap-
penings is a mystery.
Cultural concepts of the “good death” vacillate back and forth between ac-
ceptance of death and a battle against death. Thomas Cole (1992) describes
nineteenth-century concepts of “edifying” death as a process of enlighten-
ment that occurs if one does one’s death properly. Most scholars consider
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
No one knows for sure what happens when we die, but most of us have come
to at least a working conclusion about this event. The evidence we have comes
mainly from reports given by people who have had near-death experiences,
who have been thought dead or pronounced dead but who have been revived.
Consistencies across near-death reports include feelings of peace, feelings of
painlessness, hearing strange sounds, out-of-body experience, seeing light or
beings of light, and reluctance to return to the body (Raymond Moody 1975;
Williams 2005). This list brings to mind the following quote from Huxley:
“Lightly, my darling, lightly, even when it comes to dying. Nothing ponder-
ous or portentous or emphatic. No rhetoric, no tremolos, no self-conscious
persona putting on its celebrated imitation of Christ, or Goethe, or Little Nell.
And of course, no theology, no metaphysics. Just the simple fact of dying and
the fact of the clear light” (quoted in Levine 1982, 249). However, a small pro-
portion (12) of respondents in a 1982 Gallup Poll reported that their near-
death experience involved torment, not peace (www.gallup.com).
Many people who have near-death experiences say that the experience
changed them, usually from people preoccupied with matters of achievement
and material gain to people concerned with helping others. One could take
this as evidence that near-death experiences take people to a higher state of
consciousness, which puts conventional values into a different perspective.
By the time I was ten, I had seen many people “die” in the movies, and
these same people were miraculously “resurrected” for the next grade B
shoot-’em-up. One Saturday I was walking home from the movies and
saw a woman hit by a car. Her body was catapulted high in the air, hit a
tree limb, and she landed on her head on the sidewalk about thirty feet in
front of me. Her skull was caved in and a large pool of blood formed. Her
eyes were half open and vacant. I stood stunned on the sidewalk for only
a minute or so before someone came out of a nearby barber shop and
placed an apron over the woman’s upper body. One minute she was walk-
ing across the street and the next instant she was dead.
This experience drove home the reality of physical death for me. See-
ing this real and sudden death forced me to think about what happens
when people die in a way that none of the fictional deaths I had seen in
the movies had. At that time in my life, although I attended a Baptist
church, I was attending a parochial Catholic school, and we were study-
ing about purgatory in religion class. I wondered if this woman would
go to hell or if she would go to purgatory. I doubted that she would go
straight to heaven, because I had learned in school that even saints are
not pure enough to go to heaven without first being purged of sin. I asked
my mother about this that evening, and she said, “I imagine she’s in a bet-
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
ter place now.” I took this to mean that Mom thought the woman was in
heaven. So this experience not only altered my view of the fact of death, it
brought me into direct contact with religious differences in the meaning
of death and conditions for experiencing an afterlife. I liked the idea of
assuming that people would go to heaven unless you had evidence to the
contrary.
By the time people reach later life, they have usually had many experiences
that require them to cope with the contradictions and paradoxes about death
and an afterlife that exist in our American cultural soup.
The greatest fear about dying is that we will lose control over the circum-
stances of our dying and be forced to endure pain, suffering, and indignities
we did not choose. Many more people fear this than fear death itself (Atchley
and Barusch 2004). One of the greatest benefits of being part of a spiritual
community is confidence that if the need arises, there will be people to ac-
company you on your final journey who share your spiritual perspective on
dying and who will intercede on your behalf with health care providers whose
agendas may conflict with yours.
However, we should not assume that people are helpless in the face of the
medical-industrial complex. Here are two examples in which aging people
took charge of the conditions of their dying.
Being a close friend or immediate family member often provides an oppor-
tunity to be intensely involved in another person’s dying process. In the mid-
1990s I was part of the dying process of Millie, my best friend and colleague
of more than twenty-five years, and Gar, my wife’s beloved father. These two
endings were different in duration and circumstances, but I was struck by the
ways in which both were able to influence their experience of dying.
At 81, Gar seemed in good general health, but he was a long-time smoker
and had mild diabetes. He suffered congestive heart failure in the early
evening at home. Gar told the EMTs to let him die. But guidelines didn’t
allow that. Instead, Gar was transported by helicopter to a large medical
complex a half-day’s drive away. Gar kept saying, “I don’t want to go.”
Three days later, the doctors at the medical center convinced the fam-
ily that with a coronary artery bypass and heart-valve replacement, Gar
could probably enjoy several more years of good health. Gar was not so
spi r i t ua l i t y a n d t h e e x pe r i e n c e o f dy i n g a n d d e at h
sure, especially after the staff required him to watch a video graphically
showing all the things they were asking his permission to do to his body.
I noticed that at several points during the video, Gar’s attention was obvi-
ously elsewhere. But in the end, mostly to please his family—I think, Gar
gave his consent.
While the surgical team was beginning anesthesia, Gar suddenly went
into cardiac arrest. They performed CPR on him. Some time later, a vis-
ibly shaken surgeon came to tell us, “We lost him, and frankly I don’t un-
derstand what happened.”
I thought about what Gar had been saying to everyone for three
days—that he was ready for his life to be over. No one stood ready to
be his ally in this. But in the end, it seemed to me that his intention was
more powerful than the wishes of his family or the arsenal of Western
medicine. He wanted to leave, and he left.
At 71, Millie was diagnosed with lung cancer, which was treated with
surgery and multiple courses of chemotherapy and radiation. She had
a period of monitoring and things were looking good, but a follow-up
exam revealed that cancer had spread to her bones and from there would
invade her entire body. She was told that her dying would take about six
months.
In July, as I sit in Millie’s bright, airy living room, I become aware that
I feel anxious. For the first time in more than twenty-five years of close
friendship, I don’t know what to say or do. Millie is dying, but it won’t
happen soon. I am committed to accompanying and serving her as best I
can during this last journey, but nothing I have ever done before has pre-
pared me for this moment.
Over the next week or so, I become clearer about what she expects of
me. Because she can no longer easily go out into the world, my daily job
is delivering a stack of office mail and helping Millie attend to it, but what
she really wants is the latest university gossip.
I am part of an intricate division of labor involving more than a dozen
close friends and family members Millie has mobilized to meet her needs
during her dying. There can be no mistake about it: Millie is in charge
and makes the important decisions. I feel enormous relief to be able just
to follow instructions.
By early October, Millie seems frail and is in a lot of pain. She fre-
quently appears to be embarrassed about being in pain, as if she doesn’t
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
lessons
Gar’s experience fits the stereotype of an older person’s having important de-
cisions taken away by doctors and family, but he nevertheless seemed to take
control of his own dying through a deep inner process. The lesson is to respect
the will to die as much as the will to live.
The high level of control Millie exercised over her dying process did not
occur by accident. She consciously and carefully orchestrated her social cir-
cumstances to provide herself with the companionship, support, and power
she would need for her last journey. She gently and persistently helped family
members and friends accept and support her decisions.
Through her strong will, Millie remained in charge of the decisions about
her healthcare, and she used her extensive network of knowledgeable friends
to carefully select medical practitioners who could support her desire to be
in charge of her experience of dying. As a result, she was able to get the pal-
liative care she needed to ease her pain and spend her last months at home.
She refused treatment that would have affected her alertness, and she rejected
treatment that would have diminished the quality of her life experience. She
resisted pressures from her doctors, family, and friends to grasp at medical
straws. She conserved her energy for one last important trip, and died at
home surrounded by the loving people who knew her best. She had a plan for
how and when her life would end, and she died under the circumstances she
had prepared for.
Neither Gar nor Millie had strong religious beliefs or ever talked about
spiritual experiences. But Gar was a wheat farmer and cattleman for whom
nature’s wonders were a part of daily life, and he felt connected to the natural
world and the land in a profound, unspoken way. He looked at his own death
as a natural thing not to be postponed or avoided. Millie was an observant
Jew who did not believe in an afterlife, nor did she give much credence to
mysticism, but there was an intense aliveness—a beingness—in Millie that
hundreds of people saw, wanted to be around, and respected. I have been
told by dozens of Millie’s friends that they saw her as a spiritual person, but
she herself would probably have rejected that label—as any properly humble
sage would.
e x a mpl e s usi n g a n e x pa n d e d v i e w
conclusion
The reality of dying and death are catalysts that propel many people to ponder
spiritual questions deeply and perhaps begin a spiritual journey. Likewise,
spiritual experiences can profoundly affect how we see the prospect of death
and the process of dying. Yet the potential ways in which these issues play out
in actual lives have not been studied extensively; here is a vast field of research
awaiting discovery.
Conclusion
Summary, Reflections, and Implications
used their spiritual worldview and spiritual presence as the basic organiz-
ing force in their lifestyles, family lives, and service work in the community.
Unfortunately, it took me about fifteen years to gain the vocabulary needed
to fully describe what I was observing in these women because gerontology,
like most of America, was not paying attention at that time to spirituality as
an inner experience or connection to the sacred or to its potential motivating
power.
Earlier, I discussed Robert Wuthnow’s (1998) argument that since the 1950s
spirituality in America shifted from a religion-centered “spirituality of dwell-
ing” toward a person-centered “spirituality of seeking” and later toward a
“spirituality of practice.” A spirituality of dwelling emphasizes unchanging rit-
ual and organizational structure. Comfort, security, and answers come from
predictability. By contrast, a spirituality of seeking emphasizes journeying
and negotiation. On a journey we never know exactly what we will confront,
but we must remain aware of our needs and pay attention to opportunities in
order to meet our changing circumstances. On the spiritual journey, we never
have perfect maps, so we need an enduring set of questions that will allow us
to discover the ground of being in that time and place.
Wuthnow (1998) argues that most people live a life that balances dwelling
and seeking; they like the security of dwelling and they like the openness of
seeking. Wuthnow also sees an emerging practice-oriented spirituality that
emphasizes an ongoing, constant commitment to doing the hard work of nur-
turing spirituality. Thus, we become what we do, and returning to spiritual
practice over and over again creates habits of mind and habits of being that in
time seem natural. But because spiritual practices are most often part of an
open spiritual context, these habits become enlivening instead of stifling.
If all we did was to look at these three types of spirituality and how they
play out in the lives of individuals over time and in various birth cohorts as
they experience aging, we would have a much more complex, interesting, and
authentic view of spirituality and aging than is currently available in gerontol-
ogy. We would have a view that more accurately matches the complexity and
importance of spirituality in the lives of most aging people.
major points
in the field can be put together into a meaningful mosaic. I hope this effort
will serve as a starting point for those who wish to do research, teaching, and
service in this field.
Much of the argument is based philosophically in an open-systems view
of spirituality—what it is, how it kindles itself within human beings, how
people develop their capacity for spiritual experience, how various aspects
of the phenomenal world stimulate a human concern with the spiritual, how
spirituality influences the development of identity and self, and how years of
spiritual journeying affect an individual’s ways of being in the social world—
especially through lifestyles and compassionate service to others. Millions of
aging people in America, perhaps a billion or more throughout the world, are
aiming to live a more integrated spiritual life, one in which spirituality does
not have to be reserved for one or two relatively marginal compartments of
life but can flourish as a centerpiece of values and behavior.
While most of the literature views spirituality as a positive force in hu-
man life despite its difficulties and frustrations, there is a danger in an overly
individualistic approach. Most people recognize the difficulty of accurately
interpreting their spiritual insights and the important role that discussion and
feedback can play in honing the individual’s capacity for expression and dis-
cernment. In a community of spiritual peers who are each presumed to have
some capacity for wisdom, it is much more difficult for spiritual insights to
be converted into ego agendas. Thus, spiritual community is not only about
belonging but also about support, checks and balances, and feedback along
the spiritual journey.
Spirituality is an abstract, sensitizing concept that refers to a region of hu-
man experience involving awareness of being and transcending a purely per-
sonal, self-centered viewpoint. Spirituality is a subjective, existential region of
experience. Spiritual experience begins with basic spirituality, an unadorned
sense of being. To this is added a sense of “I” as perceiver and actor, having
the capacity to experience spiritual qualities through various human avenues
of experience. Spiritual experiences have identifiable qualities, such as clarity
and discernment, awakening of compassion, wonder and awe, intangibility,
ineffability, and they can occur through a variety of avenues: physical, sensory,
consciousness/awareness, thought, intuition, transcendence. Spiritual expe-
riences may or may not be consciously associated with or conceptually linked
to the sacred or a higher power.
Spiritual experiences are related to many other aspects of spirituality, such
as spiritual growth, spiritual capacity, spiritual identity and self, spiritual
spirit ualit y and aging
for most people in coping with changes that occur as a result of aging, includ-
ing “negative” changes, such as widowhood and disability, but also “positive”
changes, such as retirement and grandparenthood (Atchley 2006). Spiritual
experiences heavily influence values, especially the fine tuning of long-stand-
ing values, and this influence increases with age. Spirituality infuses the lives
of a large proportion of older people, so spirituality is not a peripheral topic
for gerontology—it is a vital context for understanding aging. Spirituality thus
deserves to be a major topic in its own right within gerontology. As the baby
boomers age, spirituality will be increasingly important in understanding the
priorities and aspirations of aging people (Roof 1999). The goal of this book is
to provide a systematic treatment of spirituality as a subject in its own right
and to expand the view of spirituality within gerontology to begin to match
the richness and complexity that it has in the everyday worlds of most middle-
aged and older people.
William James
In 1901 and 1902, William James, Harvard professor and founding figure in
American psychology, gave a series of twenty lectures that were later pub-
lished under the title The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human
Nature. In that era, spirituality as a term to describe direct subjective experi-
ence of the sacred was not in the vocabulary of psychology, but it is clear from
the text that James was interested in spirituality, and he expressly says that he
is not dealing with religious organization, doctrine, or practice. He defined
“personal religion” as “the feelings, acts, and experiences of individual[s] in
their solitude, so far as they apprehend themselves to stand in relation to
whatever they consider the divine” (James 1905 [2005], 37). He then proceeded
to probe the psychological aspects of many spiritual topics still current today:
spirit ualit y and aging
the unseen reality of the spiritual, spirituality and health, spirituality and the
self, conversion experiences, mysticism, and many others.
James achieved a remarkable clarity of conceptual and existential under-
standing of his subject, and I have learned a lot from him. For example, James
felt that spirituality has its roots in mystical states of consciousness, which he
defined as having four characteristics: ineffability (it can’t be transferred or
imparted to others); noetic quality (mystical states involve knowing as well as
feeling); transiency (mystical states cannot be sustained long but the memory
of them gives us a sense of depth and richness), and passivity (mystical states
cannot be “produced”—we must be prepared to wait for them to appear).
Mystical states lead us to understanding: “Our normal waking consciousness,
rational consciousness as we call it, is but one special type of consciousness,
whilst all about it, parted from it by the filmiest of screens, there lie potential
forms of consciousness entirely different. We may go through life without sus-
pecting their existence, but apply the requisite stimulus, and at a touch they
are there in all their completeness” (ibid., 383). James makes excellent use of
his own introspection and a variety of case materials and illustrates well the
value of a multimethod approach.
Aldous Huxley
is a strong advocate for the position that to study spirituality adequately, the
investigator has to be willing to try contemplative methods.
Ken Wilber
As a concept, research has so many possible meanings that most people can-
not keep them all in mind, so they tend to think of research as referring to the
types of research that predominate in their own fields. The following discus-
sion is tedious, but I think it is important to understand in some detail the ex-
tent to which the study of spirituality has been neglected in gerontology. Think
about the following types of research: experiments, surveys, field observation,
records review, literature review, historical research, interpretive analysis of
in-depth interviews or texts, and meta-analysis of multiple types of research.
Even this list is not exhaustive. Then think about the various types of survey
research: forced-choice, self-administered surveys (mail or distributed/col-
lected); interview surveys (forced choice, open-ended, forced choice with a
few open-ended); opinion surveys (mostly phone). Then think about survey
design: cross-sectional slice of the population or targeted subgroup of the
population, panel study of the same individuals over time, cohort sequential
study of the same cohort over time (but not necessarily the same people), and
key informant surveys designed to harvest the knowledge of people highly
experienced in a given aspect of life. There is no one of these ways of doing re-
search that does not have application in the study of spirituality and aging, yet
by far the dominant form of research is forced-choice survey, either by mail
or phone, and most of the time only a few items on spirituality are included in
a much larger array of items. Sometimes the survey will be followed up with
in-depth interviews of a few dozen respondents to the larger survey.
This emphasis on surveys is illustrated by an ambitious research project
sponsored by the Fetzer Institute and the National Institute on Aging that
resulted in a report entitled Multidimensional Measurement of Religiousness/
Spirituality for Use in Health Research (Fetzer Institute 2003). Note that the
focus was on religiousness/spirituality, as if these topics were so intertwined
as to be inseparable. The project looked at questionnaire items from previous
research on a wide variety of topics: daily spiritual experiences, meaning, val-
ues, beliefs, forgiveness, private religious practices, religious/spiritual coping,
conclusion
introductory students rarely get more than a few minutes’ discussion of spiri-
tuality, if that. Religion and spirituality are often lumped together, with reli-
gion getting the bulk of the attention. Few people specialize in the study of
spirituality, and most gerontology professors are probably intimidated by the
prospect of teaching about something they do not have in-depth knowledge
of. I hope that this book will help them be more comfortable teaching about
spirituality as a subject in its own right.
Spirituality should be included in any gerontology education program that
aspires to teach a holistic perspective. For today’s students, the compartmen-
talized separation of courses may be outdated. What may be more effective
is to begin with research and practice topics and show how holistic and mul-
tidisciplinary perspectives can lead to more effective research and practice.
Thus, we could consider spirituality as an important factor relevant to lifestyle
choices, adaptation to life events, intergenerational relationships, and so on. If
we were to look, we might find this to be true. The limited evidence we have
suggests that it is.
The implications of the entry of the baby boomers into the older popula-
tion are high on many lists of considerations concerning program planning.
In Roof ’s (1999) large panel study of boomers, most respondents felt that spir-
ituality—an inner path or journey—was a central concern, whether the jour-
ney took place in a religious context or not. Seventy-three percent of Roof ’s
respondents said they were significantly spiritual. They felt that they were
responsible for coming to their own understanding of issues about mean-
ing and faith. Religion was judged on the basis of what it could contribute to
that understanding. Most felt quite free to mix and match ideas and practices
from a variety of spiritual and religious traditions to form their own unique
approach to spirituality. Most were also involved in small groups of fellow
seekers who supported and nurtured one another’s spiritual journey. Given
that the upcoming older population is using open-systems approaches to
spirituality, and religious authority is less crucial, understanding spirituality
will become even more important for gerontology.
An open-systems approach presumes that the system is evolving based
on experience with using it. Thus, the system for dealing with the spiritual
journey and openness about precisely where the journey will lead can be ex-
pected to supplant former views of spirituality oriented around conformity
and security. Systems seldom remain in equilibrium long enough to identify
what one would conform to. Instead, a premium is placed on being able to
respond effectively to whatever happens. Part of today’s spiritual journeys
spirit ualit y and aging
For people who work directly with aging people a big question is, Who is
the client? Is it the stereotyped feeble older person who has no life and is
lonely? Or is it a vitally involved person on a spiritual journey despite the
inconveniences and losses that can come with age? Or is it another spiritual
being just like them but in a different human form? George Fox, a founder of
Quakerism, said we should go joyfully about the world, answering that of God
in everyone. Fox’s point was to respond to the basic spirituality of each person
conclusion
and not the personality or social background. At the level of basic spirituality,
what is there to get into conflict about or to object to? What would happen if
we learned to tune into the basic spirituality of the people being served? To
tune into the spirituality of those being served, would we need to tune into
our own? Would trying to tune into the basic spirituality of another person
help us tune into our own?
The expanded view of spirituality presented in this book provides a frame-
work for learning important things about many of the people we work with.
There are few things more important to many aging people than their inten-
tions for their own spiritual journey. But we cannot assume that we know
anything about those intentions or that we have even a basic outline of how
they see that journey. We have to wait for them to tell us in their own time and
in their own way. Some will tell us in words, others in body language, others
in the art they make, others through the music they sing. How does a person
reveal his or her basic spirituality? It can done in any of a hundred ways. To
see it, we must create a safe place, one in which aging persons can express
themselves.
Earlier I wrote that to study spirituality, researchers benefit from being
able to use their own spiritual capacities and perspectives. So it is with serv-
ing the spirituality of clients. How Can I Help? (Ram Dass and Gorman 1995)
is the best resource I have seen on how to help from a spiritually awakened
place. The authors begin with the notion that we all have an impulse to care
when faced with others in need. Whether we translate that impulse into ac-
tion depends on how we deal with barriers to the natural expression of caring.
Spiritually grounded caring comes from compassion, not pity.
Compassion and pity are very different. Whereas compassion reflects the
yearning of the heart to merge and take on some of the suffering, pity is
a controlled set of thoughts designed to assure separateness. Compassion
is the spontaneous response of love; pity, the involuntary reflex of fear.
(Ibid., 62)
Who are we to ourselves and to one another?—it will all come down to that.
Will we look within? Can we see that to be of most service to others we must
face our own doubts, needs, and resistances? (Ibid., 15)
a challenge
Some may be drawn to the study of spirituality and aging for purely intel-
lectual or pragmatic reasons—well and good. I suspect more will be drawn
to this subject because it also has appeal to them from within themselves and
from their experiences of aging individuals. When I was interviewing older
people early in my career, I encountered many sages, people who seemed to
possess wisdom born of a life experience that had been reflected upon. They
had a vitality and presence that I admired. “I want to be like that when I’m
old,” I thought. Today, I am like that. This did not happen by accident. I kept
their example as a guide for the direction I wanted to take, and in my own
way and with my own system I have learned much of what I needed to learn
and developed the habits I needed to develop. I also had to persist through
times of confusion and doubt. Along the way I benefited greatly from persis-
tent study, many excellent teachers, earnest practice, and several supportive
spiritual communities.
I can attest to the value of being on an intentional spiritual journey whose
purpose is to find within oneself the nonpersonal consciousness needed to
approach objectivity. I can also attest that this “road less traveled” is not an
conclusion
easy one. There is much prejudice against “the spiritual” within the scientific
and academic communities. The inner journey itself is filled with paradoxes.
But this inner journey, which thrives on ideas tested by experience, can be-
come a process worthy of faith.
My challenge to you is to engage the possibilities of spirituality and aging.
I am not suggesting that you believe anything I have said. I am challenging
you try these ideas out, to use the framework given here and see what hap-
pens. Contribute your feedback. Revise and improve. Junk this framework
and make a better one of your own. But please do not abandon the important
subject of spirituality and aging.
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appendix a
Spirituality Inventory
Please place a check mark by the word(s) that best describes your response to
the statement or question.
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
appendix a
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
6. I am on a spiritual journey.
____ Agree
____ Disagree
If you are on a spiritual journey, how long have you been on it? ____ Years
What age were you when your journey began? ____ Years
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
appendix a
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
14. On average, how many hours a week do you spend doing unpaid
work for your spiritual community? ____ Hours
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
21. I try to bring my spiritual perspective into my [check all that apply]:
____ lifestyle
____ work
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ pray
____ meditate
____ No
31. I read and ponder articles and books about spiritual topics.
____ Seldom
____ Never
spirit ualit y in ventory
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Seldom
____ Never
34. I meditate.
____ Seldom
____ Never
appendix a
35. I feel motivated to help reduce pain and suffering in the world.
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
36. I feel motivated to help reduce pain and suffering in the world.
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
spirit ualit y in ventory
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
appendix a
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Agree
____ Disagree
46. Without a sense of spirituality, my daily life would have less meaning.
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
48. I feel that I am part of something much greater than my personal self.
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
52. For me, forgiving myself and others is an important spiritual practice.
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
60. For me, spiritual experiences occur through my [check all that apply]:
____ senses
____ emotions
____ thoughts
____ awareness
____ transcendence
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
63. My capacity for spiritual experience has become more effective over
the years.
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
appendix a
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
74. Religious rituals are an important type of spiritual experience for me.
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
80. When I pay attention to spirituality, life seems to go better for me.
____ Agree
____ Disagree
81. When I pay attention to spirituality, life seems to go better for me.
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
appendix a
____ Always
____ Often
____ Sometimes
____ Seldom
____ Never
____ Agree
____ Disagree
____ No
appendix b
The questions that follow are not a test. Instead, they are invitations to self-
reflection. Whether one has a clear answer, a murky answer, or no answer is
as it is. The questions are couched in the first person to indicate that they are
posed to the reader, and the answers that matter most are answers coming
from the reader’s own experience. Most of the questions are enduring ques-
tions, and responses to them probably evolve over time. Don’t be discour-
aged if answers don’t appear immediately. Return often to the questions, with
openness and honesty, and see what happens. It may also be helpful to explore
questions of particular interest with a group of spiritual friends that meets
periodically for this purpose.
* God is a word used to refer to many concepts of the supreme being. Some concepts picture
God as a person-like being who thinks, has motives, goals, and aims, has a voice, and speaks to
lesser beings. Other concepts view God as a great oneness, a being that includes all time and
space and matter and antimatter and good and evil, a being that our dualistic minds cannot
understand but that we can know through intuition. Still other concepts see God as most clearly
visible in the natural world. For my spiritual evolution, is it necessary to reconcile differing views
of God or is it necessary for me only to become clear about my experiences of God (possibly in-
cluding the experience that God does not exist) and what these experiences imply for my spiritual
evolution?
appendix b
preface
1. Participants in the Omega Institute think tank met for a week at the Omega
campus in Rhinebeck, New York. Participants included Ram Dass, Zalman
Schachter-Shalomi, Carter Williams, Thomas Cole, Robert Atchley, H. R. Moody,
Eve Ilsen, Drew Leder, Carole Segrave, Connie Goldman, and several Omega pro-
gram planning staff persons. The goal of the think tank was to explore what types
of educational program might be good next steps. As a result of this experience,
I developed a weeklong workshop, “Spiritual Growth in Middle and Later Life,”
which I offered with cofacilitators Sheila Atchley and H. R. Moody in the summer
of 1996. Planning and offering this workshop gave me important insights into how
best to discuss this material.
7. This is not to imply that members of the clergy cannot inspire direct, inde-
pendent, and authentic spiritual experience. Many certainly do. In fact, some of
the richest discussions of how to connect directly with the sacred can be found in
published sermons. Meister Eckhart is a prime example. However, when religious
culture teaches that spiritual connection requires mediation by the clergy, then I
think damage can be done to the human spirit. For example, Valerie grew up Catho-
lic, and when she was about 9 she started asking Jesus to talk to her, and she was
somewhat surprised when He actually did. She heard a voice that was not her own.
When she told her Catholic school teachers about this experience, the response
was, “You can’t possibly have talked with Jesus. He has lots more important things
to do than to talk to the likes of you. That’s what priests are for.”
8. For a discussion of Blumer’s perspective, see Turner (1991, 403).
9. The American Heritage Dictionary (2006) defines rumination as “the act of
pondering; meditation.” This is a perfect definition for my purposes; it is just what
I intend. Unfortunately, the Diagnostic Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV) lists
rumination as an eating disorder. What’s a writer to do? I decided I should not avoid
ordinary language because some profession or academic specialty has developed
a technical meaning for these same words that conflict or sometimes contradict
dictionary definitions.
10. I believe both Huxley and Tillich developed this concept of ground following
the influence of Martin Heidegger and Meister Eckhart. Eckhart’s idea was that we
needed a larger concept of a transcendent God, one that stood as the ground for
the manifest God, with the manifest God as figure and the transcendent God as
ground.
1. I use the term ground of being to refer to that which is the supreme context
for all other being. Others use God, Allah, Yahweh, the Absolute, and a host of
other terms. Some concepts picture the supreme being as a personlike being who
thinks, has motives, goals, and aims, has a voice, and speaks to lesser beings. Other
concepts see the supreme being as a great oneness, a being that includes all time
and space and matter and antimatter and good and evil, a being that our dualistic
human minds cannot understand but that we can know through intuitive experi-
ence. Still other concepts envision the supreme being as embodied in nature. To
study spirituality, it is not necessary to reconcile differing views about the nature or
existence of a supreme being; it is necessary only to understand how each individual
experiences and answers the question of the supreme being and how these experi-
ences relate to spiritual experiences. (For more on such concepts, see Zinnbauer et
al. 1997.)
2. Heidegger (1966) discussed a relationship between transcendent conscious-
ness and thought. He contrasted calculative thinking with contemplative thinking
by saying that the former is done by conventional consciousness whereas the latter
n ot e s to pa ge s –
2. spiritual development
1. Although the book was co-authored by Moody and Carroll, Moody conducted
the research, the main theoretical ideas are Moody’s, and many of the personal ex-
amples in the book are from Moody’s personal experience.
1. For more on Mead, Cooley, and other aspects of these concepts, see Turner
(1991).
2. Carl Jung developed a complex and dynamic psychology that goes well be-
yond the scope of this chapter. Here I deal with only his notion of the “shadow
self.”
3. For more on the self system in later life, see Atchley (1999), chap. 2.
1. To the best of my knowledge, the term transpersonal sociology was first used
by Ken Wilber in A Sociable God (1983), which was mainly about religion. Wilber
used the term to indicate a new type of possibility for religions created by people
who had been transformed by transpersonal psychology. The term has been little
used since then, and almost never by sociologists. Nevertheless, I believe it is time
to offer a more fleshed-out statement of some principles we might expect to find
useful in looking at spirituality as it plays out in community.
2. The Quakers are an example of a spiritual culture following transpersonal
principles that has been successfully in operation for more than three hundred
years. In contemporary culture, many cohousing communities are also attempting
to live by principles of transpersonal sociology.
3. For examples of resource material taking a transpersonal sociological view of
organizational leadership, see Gilley (1997) and Dreher (1996).
1. The concept of integrity used by Erikson, Erikson, and Kivnick (1986) differed
considerably from the concept of ego integrity used by Erikson (1955) in his earlier
work. Ego integrity is a much more self-centered concept than the idea of integrity
as a holistic and positive integrating force balancing the negative forces of chaos and
despair.
n ote s to pa ge s –
1. Unless otherwise noted, all examples are taken from my interviews and ob-
servations.
2. See Kastenbaum (2004) for a fascinating and thought-provoking discussion
of the many aspects of how dying and death are thought about in American culture.
Kastenbaum’s book is clear evidence that even our brightest minds are humbled by
the mystery that is death.
conclusion
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references
death, 85; aging and fear of, 137; beliefs faith development, stages of, 39
about, 134–135; denial of, 133; as event, Five Stages of the Soul, The (Moody and
137; realizing the reality of, 139; spiri- Carroll), 35–38
index
81–89; characteristics of, 83; obstacles spiritual process, 27; questions on, 185
confronting would-be, 77–78; tran- spiritual region, ix, 1, 5, 8, 187n2
scendent, 99–89; and wisdom, 86–88 spiritual transmission, 27
Schachter-Shalomi, Zalman, 76, 83, students, 156
85–86 Sufism, 13, 55–56
seeking, spirituality of, 3, 146 systems, open-feedback, xi, 36, 147,
self, 46–49; evolution of, 51; as expe- 155–156
riencer, 46; ideal, 47; reflective, 46;
shadow, 48, 189n2 Taoism, 4
self-actualization, 50, 187n6 teachers and teachings, 79–80
self-assessment, 183–186 thought, integrative, 24; spiritual, chang-
self-schemas, 47; spiritual, 54–70 es in over time, 3–4
self system, 47, 49, 51; change in, 49; Tillich, Paul, 7
continuity of, 51–53 time: beliefs about, 124–127; concepts of,
service, 5, 17, 99–103, 114 121–122; experiential, 121
silence, 4 Tonglen, 84
singing, as spiritual path, 91–93 Tornstam, Lars, 33–35, 115, 125
sociology, transpersonal, 91, 189n1 (Ch5) tradition, spiritual, 4
solitude, 4 transcendence, 7, 14, 23, 25, 73; of per-
soul, stages of, 35–38 sonal self, 2, 20
spiritual breakthrough, 27, 67 transcendent consciousness, 188n2
spiritual capacity, 27, 148 transformation, 22, 67
spiritual concepts, ix, 27 transpersonal community, 93–94, 96–98;
spiritual connection, 27 benefits of, 98
spiritual development, 2, 78, 114; aging transpersonal consciousness, 75
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text of, 43; stages of, 35–38; teaching
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1, 4–5, 148–149; basic forms of, 1; as Living and Conscious Dying (Levine),
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8–9; as experiential, 6, 13; growing im- wisdom, 74–75; and community, 93;
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9; as independent topic, 152; measur- 84; manifesting, 101–103; sages and,
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as positive force, 147; practice-orient- of, 75
ed, 3, 146; related to religion, 14–16; witness consciousness, 28, 157
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Spirituality Inventory, 161–182
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spiritual nature, questions on, 183–184 Zinnbauer, Brian, 14–15
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