- by Niels von Meyenfeldt
Is it
possible to be an anthroposophist and yet not be comfortable with the
institutional practices of Anthroposophy?
I mean the members’ meetings, prescriptive meditative practices, one’s
position in the hierarchy, the social rituals, the presence of an elite of
speakers and lecture-givers who tend to be self-perpetuating? And, most importantly, the pre-eminence of
Rudolf Steiner, who shows us the way, and what a complex, demanding way it
is!
Frances
Edmunds once said, “anthroposophy is ‘he next person I meet.” (See Mark McAlister’s article in the October
issue.) But does that suffice? Are all our practices, taken in a deeper,
more spiritual sense, really only a kind of stage play for the important
business of encountering one another as spiritual beings?
I have
struggled greatly over the years, both as a simple member listening and
observing (rather passively) and also as a purveyor or carrier of anthroposophy
in different roles, to achieve a sense of being at one with the people I’m
with. A sense of profound connectedness in the pursuit of spiritual understanding
and growth is not what I’m finding. I
share this impression with others who happen to be personal friends. Maybe we
are a rebel clique! But in fact, these friends have worked devotedly out of
anthroposophy as teachers and therapists most of their adult lives. Objectively
speaking, it is I who seek a connectedness with others in my spiritual
striving. I even suspect that for me this
connectedness is a precondition for group work - that must be won through an
intense effort of communication and empathy that is interpersonal. If that
effort is not willingly and jointly made, not much will come of the work.
This is a
discussion about form and roles and even about gratitude. I am grateful for
having the opportunity to unburden myself about anthoposophy; so much of what
we do is about upholding the edifice and somehow that means putting on a good show,
being confident and knowing - doubt, vulnerability and openness take a lesser
seat, but are they less important in the scheme of things? The edifice of anthroposophy is how I used to
feel about my parents as a young person - they provided the form and support I
needed that but ultimately I had to develop my own forms, my ways of being, so
that later I could become friends with them and know them more fully.
I think
there is too much form in what we do and not enough process. In upholding form,
even out of
love, we play into assuming roles and playing roles makes it hard to meet
others. We think roles are essential, that if we abandon them, the edifice will
fall or that we will lose our sense of belonging. However, if we consider the teachings of
anthroposophy, we must know that we need not lose anything in the eternal
unless we freely chose to do so.
The action
of meeting the other is a process and a very delicate one at that. How do we
prepare and
practice for this? How can we affirm our
connectedness, not only through spiritual knowledge, but also through deeply
humanistic processes? This is where we
need to be creative. Anthroposophy offers help in the practice of Goethean
conversation, insights on the nature of our astral bodies and wonderful
meditative poems by Steiner. Contemporary humanistic psychology is also a rich
source of helpful practices. But I would
go further and propose crossing a line that exists in our work - between the
personal and the impersonal - to share our experiences more openly, even our
uncertainties and failures. If we truly
uphold the legacy of Rudolf Steiner, then it is
entirely
forgivable to fall short of our goals, for soon enough we’ll be in the spiritual
world where new possibilities await us.
Any real relationship will have its ups and downs but the relationship
cannot be denied. And so it is with my relationship with anthroposophy. It is a
process, informed by form, but not dominated by form. I have to care a lot about the form if it is
to part of my process.
Here in the
Comox Valley, a few dedicated friends continue
to explore new ways of making anthroposophy come alive for us. We are mostly
First Class members who are completely truthful with each other about the
efficacy of the class lessons (for us) and about our thoughts and feelings in
general. We are interested in the arts and supporting fledgling initiatives in
our area and currently hoping to build our work on what interests us and where
we already have experience - where education, art and therapy overlap.
2 comments:
Hi Niels... lovely to find you here!
I found your comments intriguing, esp the thoughts about form and process. This imbroglio is an ongoing and provocative consideration in my own current work, as a Life Cycle Celebrant. In a way, Im always walking a line between my inner practice and serving others in the way in which THEY are comfortable. You write... I have to care a lot about the form if it is to part of my process. The form always only points the way, as we know, but without it, what lives? As we both well know, it's like doing the inner work of preparing the lesson, and then letting it go when you walk into the room.
O well, just a few ragged thoughts from the top of my head. Maybe we can continue the conversation sometime in the long winter's night.
Dear Niels,
Ah, well, it seems you are a perfect fit for the Youth Section then! It is just this focus on process and becoming which you spoke so eloquently to that is at the heart of our work together in the Youth Section. I would love to speak with you further and meet your group who share these impulses. Thank you for sharing these experiences.
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