Still, I Remain Open

On courage as the foundation of compassion and what it means to be a spiritual leader

“Shiv - could you speak about compassion? There is so much wisdom in your writing. Yet, on the subject of compassion, you have not written much (or so it seems, I am relatively new to your work so apologies if I’m mistaken!).

And another question. I am surprised you don’t lead and mentor people more. Given your refreshing perspective—I am sure so many could benefit! Every Tom, Dick and Harry is “coaching” or “guiding” people these days. What you have to offer is leaps and bounds above the rest IMHO!”

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You are not mistaken.

I tend to write on topics I am most familiar with. And on the subject of compassion - I am… still learning.

Life is simple. But it isn’t easy.

Wisdom - which is clarity of perspective - is what unravels the complicated and confused ways in which we come to view life, and reveals the pearl of what is, lying at its core.

Being as the only true reality.

Yet, once one has seen, one still has to live.

And living takes courage.

It takes heart. (The word ‘courage’ derives from the Latin word cor - meaning “heart”).

The path of the heart for me has been challenging.

Fear is the mechanism of separation.

It is one thing to see non-separation at the root of all experience. This is wisdom.

It’s another matter entirely to live that non-separation.

To ‘live it’ means to face fear - the very mechanism of separation - each time it arises.

Not to shrink from it.

Not to succumb to it by demonizing others while justifying the self.

Not to armor against it - using spiritual superiority, humor or cynicism.

Not to bypass it by hiding in some transcendent viewpoint.

But to allow oneself to be completely naked and vulnerable in front of it.

This takes great courage. A courage I am still learning to have.

Compassion cannot even begin until such courage becomes habitual.

For compassion is what arises when we perceive the naked vulnerability of all sentient beings - and see it as no different than our own. And rather than evoking fear, this seeing evokes love.

Some time ago, I met a lady - a non-denominational reverend of a spiritual centre - at a celebration of life over which she was presiding. The ceremony was for a young man who had passed after taking his own life. The hall was filled with distraught family and community members, each trying to make sense of such a sudden and horrific loss of life.

The warmth and fierce grace with which this reverend held space for the grief in that room left me awestruck. The scene gave me the impression of a group of distressed children being firmly yet lovingly guided by a mother. It was not what she said but the grace with which she carried herself, her gentle and unguarded presence that allowed people to simply break down, unprotected, around her. They felt safe to be completely shattered and vulnerable with her. Each person who came to her felt seen, felt heard - in their pain, grief and confusion. The presence she manifested was not performative but grounded and genuine.

That was compassion.

The life of the sage may be simple. But their experience of living it is not easier than anyone else’s.

For to be human is to inhabit an endless dichotomy.

Between pleasure and pain. Between body and mind. Between light and shadow. Between love and loss.

Most seekers believe that wisdom will resolve this dichotomy. That when they become “enlightened” - the problems of living will simply resolve themselves.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

As wisdom evolves, so does the dichotomy. Without the buffers of personal narrative and identity, the starkness of these polarities becomes all the more evident.

True wisdom is the final realization that there is no resolving this dichotomy. Ever. It is hardcoded into the human experience.

Ignorance, on the other hand, always promises a way out:

“If I make enough money, I’ll finally live free of problems”

“If I find my true life partner, I’ll be happy”

“If I discover my passion and purpose, I’ll feel fulfilled”

“If I become enlightened, I’ll finally find inner peace”

Ignorance is a shield that protects us from the stark inevitability of dukkha - that all humans suffer, no matter who they are.

I may be wise. But I am not yet courageous.

I may see the simplicity of life. But I still wish it was easy.

I may see the obviousness of being and express it with great clarity. Yet, I still struggle to live it.

I still shrink from fear at times. Still armor against it with cynicism, humor and subtle feelings of superiority. Still succumb to it from time to time by painting others in a negative light. Still display the tendency to bypass it through transcendence.

And my fear separates me from other sentient beings. It keeps me from being compassionate.

It is not wisdom alone that makes a spiritual leader. Compassion is key.

I know there are thousands of people promoting themselves as coaches and spiritual leaders these days. They are the blind leading the blind. In a society which has lost all perspective, where people are confused and desperate for some clarity - there is no dearth of individuals who see this as an opportunity to capitalize on.

But such folly is no concern of mine.

I have witnessed firsthand what real spiritual leadership can look like. I have seen how when wisdom and compassion are manifest in a person, their very presence has the power to heal. There is an alchemy that happens in which the fear of the other person becomes transformed within the space of unconditional love in which it is held. It is one of the most profound phenomena I have ever witnessed.

Such compassion does not cloak itself in spiritual platitudes, posturing and performance. It does not speak from the pedestal or the stage. It uses common language and exhibits itself as ordinary, vulnerable and deeply human. It speaks from within the fray of daily living.

I am not ready to become a spiritual leader because I cannot hold space like that. Not yet.

I may have come far in wisdom. But I am just beginning in compassion.

I may have developed clarity. Yet I have much to learn of courage.

My love of my fellow humans is still overshadowed by my fear of them.

The truth is you can see everyone as yourself - and still be afraid of them.

Still, I remain open.

Perhaps in time, courage will grow.

And compassion will flower, not from effort - but from the heart’s own readiness.

The path is ever winding. The journey, never-ending.

And each step presents a new opportunity to choose love over fear.