Choosing Your Evolution

Evolving on Purpose (Part 6)

BECOMING US:

Ever since I first heard Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull’s astounding rock flute solo in his song Locomotive Breath, I’ve wanted to play the flute. I’ve listened to lots of flute music. I’ve watched flautists demonstrate their skills. I was even given a flute a few years ago, and I thought that my time had finally come. Fast forward to today, and I still can’t play a note of music on the flute—for one simple reason: I never made time to learn and practice.

I compare this to my son who, during the COVID pandemic lockdowns, decided that he would learn to play some of the world’s most famous lead guitar solos. After a few months of working for hours every day, he showed off the fruits of his labours in a video he sent me where he played the solos from Sultans of Swing, Bohemian Rhapsody, and a few other songs flawlessly.

We both wanted to change. And we both did change. In my son’s case, the change was the result of an intentional musical practice. In my case, the change was nothing more than the ordinary process of aging, and so, in one sense, I didn’t really change at all.

While it may seem so obvious that it doesn’t need to be said, there is a big difference between talking about change and actually changing. A few years ago, management consultant Karl Albrecht compared the stages in the death of a business with Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s stages of dying. The bargaining stage in companies, he said, is when everyone starts talking differently, sharing new ideas, and having conversations about change, while nothing about the company or the work being done is any different. Bargaining is when we think that just talking about change is enough.¹

While our thinking, attitudes, and speech do have an impact on our lives that is often considerable, we know that we are embodied beings that act in the world. What happens in our brains is important, but for it to really make a difference to our lives and environments, the thoughts need to produce some kind of action—and our actions need to impact our thoughts. The English language is filled with sayings that express this truth:

Action speaks louder than words but not nearly as often. ― Mark Twain

Sow an act and you reap habit. Sow a habit and you reap a character. Sow a character and you reap a destiny. ― Charles Reade

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. ― Will Durant

We do not think ourselves into new ways of living. We live ourselves into new ways of thinking. ― Richard Rohr

Authentic spirituality, then, is not necessarily (or certainly not only) about getting our ideas right. It is also about acting in certain ways; developing a way of being in the world that directs us intentionally toward a life of flourishing.² This is why spirituality is a practice and why Jesus’ message and mission became known, in the New Testament, as “the Way” (See Acts 9:2).

SPIRITUALITY AS MINDFUL BECOMING

The word spirituality can mean different things to different people. In this case, I am referring to spirituality as a particular way of being and growing as a person, that teaches us to wake up, grow up, and show up fully, authentically, and courageously in our lives, relationships, and world.³ Another way to say this is that spirituality is a commitment to being mindful about ourselves and our world and to choosing to evolve consciously.

It is not that we don’t change unless we engage in some kind of spiritual practice. We are all changing all the time, as is our world. But not all change is intended or positive. Many of us live as if we are victims of our circumstances and the forces around us. We buy lottery tickets hoping we’ll get lucky and become wealthy. And we go to church hoping that singing some songs, listening to some sermons, and putting some money in the offering basket will convince God to make us the people we want to be and give us the life we want to live. But that’s not how transformation works. The work of spirituality is to intentionally seek to live ourselves, little by little, into new ways of thinking, relating, and acting in the world.

This leaves us with a choice. We can go through life without seeking to evolve if we want. But then we leave ourselves at the mercy of social, relational, and environmental forces in which we have little or no participation and over which we have no control. Or we can embrace change intentionally, and consciously choose to set an evolutionary course for ourselves. We might not get where we expect to—there’s no blueprint that allows us simply to assemble a few pieces and come out with a good life—but we will be aware of the path we’re on and that will give us the ability to change course as needed.

Of course, we cannot choose all the changes that will come our way. But we can choose to ensure that unexpected, uninvited changes are just one part of our larger, lifelong journey of transformation. We can choose to respond to what life throws at us in positive ways. And we can seek to use all opportunities for change as transformative journeys that lead us to versions of ourselves that are more authentic, whole, and present. In this sense, conscious evolution is both an initiative practice—in that we choose to enter transforming processes regularly and intentionally—and a responsive one—in that we equip ourselves to respond creatively, compassionately, and healthily when change is thrust upon us.

Spirituality, then, is not about certain beliefs or doctrines. It’s not even about specific practices or rituals. It is about developing a consistent practice of mindful becoming—evolving consciously into our best selves, in our best lives, in our best world. Or, as Sam Harris puts it:

Being mindful is not a matter of thinking more clearly about experience; it is the act of experiencing more clearly, including the arising of thoughts themselves (emphasis mine).⁴

EVOLUTIONARY SPIRITUAL PRACTICE

When we examine the process of change or evolution we recognise that it moves through four phases: catalyst, chaos, clarity, and cohesion.⁵ Whether we choose to change or change chooses us, these four phases will always be present. A conscious evolutionary spiritual practice should equip us to navigate all four phases well and lead us through the phases mindfully and creatively. This means that we can learn how to facilitate our own transformations. We can be trained—or we can train ourselves—to ‘wake up’.⁶

One of the best metaphors of transformation—which is also a tool for conscious evolution—is the labyrinth. Unlike a maze, a labyrinth is not a puzzle to be solved. It has no false turns or dead ends. Rather, it has only one path which is followed to the centre and then retraced again to the exit. Labyrinths are one of the oldest and most universal human symbols. Multiple variations are found in almost every part of the world, and in most cultures.⁷

One of the reasons I recommend labyrinths for conscious evolution is that they both symbolise and facilitate processes of transformation.⁸ The process most often suggested for walking a labyrinth is fourfold. It begins with a time of preparation in which our ordinary lives and selves are set aside for a moment and an intention is set for our practice. This time of readying, as I like to call it, corresponds with the catalyst phase of the transformation and, when engaged mindfully, it sets the process in motion.

Then as we follow the path inward, we enter the phase of purgation or, as I prefer to call it, releasing. This would correspond with the chaos phase of change, and it invites us to let go of our assumptions, knowledge, and current selves so that we can be open to new insights and experiences, and new models on which to base a more developed sense of self.

When we reach the centre of the labyrinth, we enter the phase of illumination (or reimagining). This corresponds with the clarity phase of change. This is the time when we would place ourselves in a “possible worlds box”, as Patrick McNamara calls it, and search through our memory for models on which to build our new, improved sense of self.⁹ The centre can also be a space for finding solutions, a closer connection with our authentic selves, or just the calm we need to navigate our lives.

The final movement in a labyrinth walk is the phase of union (which I like to call renewal). This corresponds with the cohesion phase in the process of change. Walking the outward path gives us time to process our experience and begin to integrate our new selves, or any new insights or experiences, into our daily lives.

While the labyrinth can be a remarkably effective tool for intentionally navigating transformative processes, not everyone will find the labyrinth meaningful. What it illustrates, however, is a simple structure for spiritual practice that can help us to do the work of conscious evolution regularly and intentionally. When we give ourselves the time, space, and awareness to practice the four phases of readying, releasing, reimagining, and renewing, we open ourselves to the four elements or phases of transformation: catalyst, chaos, clarity, and cohesion. And that means we give ourselves a safe and repeatable way to do the work of conscious evolution well.