Phil Wellman

Turbulent economic times often serve as an unwanted, yet necessary catalyst for spiritual discovery. For some it provides an opportunity to bring greater meaning to their work.

At the tail end of the dot-com bust in 2001, my advertising and design agency was floundering and I was desperate. One day while scanning a magazine rack, I was drawn to an issue of Fortune magazine with large billowing clouds on the cover and the headline, “God and Business, the Surprising Quest for Spiritual Renewal in the American Workplace,” by Marc Gunther.

Something felt very right.

In the article, Gregory F. A. Pearce, author of Spirituality@Work, said “Why would we want to look for God in our work? The simple answer is most of us spend so much time working (or thinking about it), it would be a shame if we couldn’t find God there. A more complex answer is that there is a creative energy in work that is somehow tied to God’s creative energy. If we can understand that connection, perhaps we can use it to transform the workplace into something remarkable.”

As a designer, I knew that creative energy first hand, and I’d been actively involved in a spiritual practice for over 25 years. But I had to ask myself whether I was really incorporating the spiritual principles that I knew so well into my work.

Back to my 2001 dilemma. Clients were dropping fast and the only new one I could find was an innovative little start-up called Centerfor. (continued)

Jo Leonard

I had known God’s love through its many manifestations: my husband with his unconditional love, the myriad of other brightly-lit Souls who came and went in my life, even my clear-eyed cats. But it was never quite enough for me. I wanted to know God directly, up close and personal.

Metaphorically-speaking, I would often shake my fists at the night sky and cry for the state of God-Realization.After one prolonged period of trying every technique I knew, I fell into bed one night with little else but God on my mind. I believe it was as a result of my one-pointed intensity that I was given the following dream as I slept.

I awoke in the dream as a woman named Cencea and found myself sitting in a tavern of huge proportions, the size being a sure sign to me that I was no longer in the physical world. Engaged in a lively philosophical debate, I huddled with three friends at the end of a long, roughly-hewn wood table.

The dream had my attention right away. One of my favorite things to do in the waking world is to sit around with friends and talk the good God stuff while eating things like pasta and bits of bread dipped in seasoned olive oil.

The dream fare was a little different than that. Various bowls and eating utensils were scattered in front of us, the remains of our late evening supper. A creamy-colored ceramic bowl held hardened chunks of stonebread. I knew it to be sweet and soft and sensuous when freshly baked, but stone-like when left beyond the time it takes to consume a meal—hence its name. A slice of green pianti cheese, the edges petrifying with each passing moment, lay abandoned on a clay platter. A purplish fruit had stained, if only slightly, our lips and fingertips. (continued)

Patti Simpson

I recently wrote about the mistake we make when we compare ourselves to others and come out wanting because we haven’t used the correct yardstick. One of my favorite teachers in the world today is the man known as Ram Dass. I was fortunate, years ago, to be able to attend several weekend workshops with Ram Dass, and the more I was around him, the more impressed I was. The former Dr. Richard Alpert was a Harvard Psychology Professor and fellow researcher with Dr. Timothy Leary on the properties of LSD. What began as a clinical research project evolved interestingly. Timothy Leary came to see LSD as a recreational drug and almost single-handedly popularized it for public consumption. He took over a hundred LSD trips and in some ways, he became a caricature of himself. From my training in addictions and my experience with hospitalized addicts, he seemed to be in a category we used to call "Crispy Critters." These are people who have taken so many drugs that they have fried their brains.

Richard Alpert, on the other hand, saw spiritual openings and possibilities in the research and he chose to follow that up by going to India and studying the spiritual life with a beloved guru. He came back from India as Ram Dass, and became a teacher of great wisdom, humor and love. A very tall man, he would show up on stage in his golf clothes, always holding his mala beads in his hand, and would do a comedy routine, wryly the butt of his own jokes, and in the resulting laughter he would toss small, beautiful gems of wisdom that fell upon his audience like lightly falling snow.

It was Ram Dass who deeply moved me when he said, "It is so easy to unordain yourself." I thought this was so important, I wrote it down and have it on the wall over my small bookcase altar. And seeing it there helps keep me safe from the thought forms of myself or others which would make me be less than who I am, if I were to buy into them.

What does it mean to unordain ourselves? If we have chosen a life of thought, growth, study, curiosity about the true meaning of things and we are being impeccable in our personal path, that is to say, we conduct ourselves with respect for others and are not working out of ego and a desire for power over them, we have ordained ourselves on life’s journey. This is our sacred trail and it’s our sacred duty to be true to it. But there are those: people, books, ideas, religions, teachers, clergy, educators, governments, etc., whose concepts differ from ours. It’s the way of the world for them to make us feel we are wrong, mistaken or just plain off-track. These folks have a lot invested in reigning in our free spirits and if we hold them in high respect, we can unwittingly unordain ourselves. And then comes bad self-talk, lowered self-esteem, a sense of not being up to the task. The bad news is, we have become unordained. The good news is, we did it to ourselves and we can correct it by creating a new, firm intention.

How do we know when this has happened? We feel as if we’re ringing like a cracked bell. The inner harmony that is a natural state when we’re ordained is missing. Someone, some thing has thrown us out of our belief in ourselves. I recommend that one write down Ram Dass’ words and keep them in a favorite place: "It is so easy to unordain yourself." Then reach down into one's own core and say to self, "I deserve respect." When we do that we are telling that to others and to ourselves. It is surprising how many things fall into line if we do that little bit of mental and spiritual health care every day.

On the other hand, if one never has the slightest doubt regarding his or her correctness about everything, one may need to check in at their inner pharmacy and order up some humility pills. LOL.