FROM THE EDITOR: The Hard Work of Effortless Moments
The Hard Work of Effortless Moments
While we were putting this issue together, I spent a week in Princeton, New Jersey, rowing at the National Selection Regatta for the 2008 U.S. Olympic team. The races were as glorious as races can be when one has no real chance of winning. (My partner and I got our photo in the New York Times for being the oldest, not the fastest, competitors.) We had trained for 14 months, and what surprised me is that my most memorable moment came the day before the races — while I was standing motionless on a dock.
I had come to Princeton to battle my own aging: I was trained. I was rested. I spoke with not-completely-feigned bravado as gold medalists from the 2004 Olympic Games rowed by. But after their boats were out of sight, I was left with the water glistening in the spring sun. In that moment, I felt one with the air and water and sun and life itself, and it struck me that I had worked through all those millions of strokes to experience what was right in front of me, all the time.
In “Getting to Aha!”, Trebbe Johnson beautifully describes a gentler path to this place of magical insight that she calls the “Maginal Zone.” The Maginal Zone
often allows us to see that the battles we perceive are not battles at all, but merely unrealized vision. Johnson leads vision quests, solo sojourns in nature that allow our vision to clear, exposing our own deep wisdom through nature’s wisdom.
In “Vengeance 101,” psychologist Michael McCullough gives us another look at the deep wisdom of nature. Vengeance, he writes, is not a “disease” to be “cured” by
forgiveness. Instead, both vengeance and forgiveness are natural instincts necessary for the survival of a cooperative species. Rather than work for a change in consciousness to create a more peaceful world, McCullough argues for a change of conditions.
As we gradually accept nature, we can marvel at its intricate design. Here, Betsy Robinson describes a fascinating study of one of the world’s most primordial symbols — the snake. Apparently, our recognition of this icon is part of our birthright, perhaps written into our DNA. And whether we are terrified or empowered by snakes is up to us. Do we want to know our nature? Shall we bite the apple?
Stephen Kiesling
editor-in-chief
steve@SpiritualityHealth.com





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