Parker Palmer spent the first chapter of his book The Active Life defining the active and contemplative life. He sees the active life in terms of work, creativity, and caring. He briefly explores the dualism that often develops, favoring one. In Chapter 2, he wants us to see how the two are inseparably integrated. He describes it as a “living paradox.” I might have called it a polarity. Rather than “contemplation and action,” Palmer suggests it might be more helpful to speak in terms of “contemplation-and-action,” symbolizing the interconnectedness.
The Living Paradox
Throughout our spiritual formation, Palmer believes we often experience the paradox in terms of separation, moving to alternation, and finally moving to integration. We typically are drawn to one pole or the other. Activity can fly off into frenzy. Contemplation can become escapism. Excess creates a desire for balance, so we move to alternation. Burned out, we take a “vacation” from action to contemplate. Restored, we move back into action until we are so worn out that we move to a contemplative mode again.
While alternation is an improvement, integration is optimal. Palmer defines action and contemplation this way:
- Action – “I understand action to be any way that we can co-create reality with other beings and with the Spirit.” (17) And as we saw in the previous chapter, work, creativity, and caring are forms that our action takes.
- Contemplation – “I understand contemplation to be any way that we can unveil the illusions that masquerade as reality and reveal the reality behind the masks.” (17)
Both action and contemplation have at their root a “ceaseless drive to be fully alive,” but neglect of either undercut the drive for aliveness.
The Nature of Action
Palmer devotes the second part of Chapter 2 to “The Nature of Action.” He opens with this important observation.
“If you are unemployed, if you are forced to do work that brings neither enough money or recognition, if you are young and uncertain about where you are going, or if you are unhappily retired, one of the most painful questions anyone can ask you may be simply “What do you do?” If you are unprepared, if you have not reflected on your situation and found ground to stand on, that simple question can open a dangerous chasm beneath your feet and trigger fierce defenses. Why so?” (19)
His conclusion?
“Perhaps the primitive fear that some of us feel when we cannot answer the question ‘What do you do?’ comes from a deep, unconscious intuition that inaction is a sign of death. When we are not “doing” we are forcibly reminded of our own mortality; we experience a sort of dying through inactivity. But when we are acting we can say to the world and to ourselves that we are here, we are alive, we are making a difference. Indeed, by acting we imagine that we can leave something of ourselves behind, marks that might give us a kind of immortality. In raising a child or shaping an institution or writing a book we may carry the silent hope that our mortal lives can somehow defy the barriers of death.” (20)
But we cannot escape death, and death will sweep away all we have done. We should not count on our work to achieve immortality, but we must not err in another direction by becoming passive, dying before we are dead. God has made us for co-creative work in the world, but we do so as mortal creatures. Furthermore, pride often accompanies our work. Here we face a dilemma in avoiding prideful behavior but not to the point that withdraw from action for fear of pride. Action is risky. “The greatest risk in action is the risk of self-revelation, and that is also action’s greatest joy.” (22) It is in the risk of self-revelation that we are most fully alive.
Palmer distinguishes between Instrumental and expressive aspects of work:
- “The instrumental image, which dominates Western culture, portrays action as a means to predetermined ends, as an instrument or tool of our intentions. … Instrumental action traps us in a system of praise or blame, credit or shame, a system that gives primacy to goals and external evaluations, devalues the gift of self-knowledge, and diminishes our capacity to take the risks that may yield growth.” (23)
- “An expressive act is one that I take not to achieve a goal outside myself but to express a conviction, a leading, a truth that is within me. An expressive act is one taken because if I did not take it I would be denying my own insight, gift, nature.” (24)
Palmer’s concern is not that all action should be expressive but that life becomes deadening when all our action is collapsed into instrumental acts. Expressive action is how we contribute to the larger scheme of things because it brings our unique qualities into play.
The Nature of Contemplation
The third part of Chapter 2 is devoted to “The Nature of Contemplation.” Palmer reminds us that:
“Every action originates in some assessment of reality, no matter how mistaken. No action will have lasting effects if it is inconsistent with reality.” (25)
He also astutely points out that “Contemplation is difficult for many of us because we have invested so much in illusion.” (25) Illusions are usually a joint project between us and society. They keep things orderly. He highlights three circumstances that tend to promote contemplation.
Disillusionment – When someone lets us down, or when some vision we had fails, we become dis-illusioned. We see life more fully for what it is, or at least what it is not. Palmer says, “Pain is one of the sure signs that contemplation is happening.” (27) Contemplation may eventually lead to a happier reality, but emptiness and pain are frequently part of the journey.
Dislocation – “This happens when we are forced by circumstance to occupy a very different standpoint from our normal one, and our angle of vision suddenly changes to reveal a strange and threatening landscape.” (27) A change in our health or employment or sometimes just coming to the world through someone else’s eyes, breaks us out of our limited perspective into a more full-orbed view.
Unbidden solitude – Sometimes, we find ourselves in isolation from the collective life and the reality our community reinforces for us. Sometimes solitude is forced upon us. We may need to make our way without collective support for any number of reasons. But unlike the first two, solitude is something that can grow on us. In fact, disillusionment and dislocation can take us into deeper appreciation of solitude. It can render us less needy and more capable of authentically giving of ourselves. Palmer writes:
“The healthy community is one that leaves the solitude, the integrity, of each individual intact; if its members do not respect their own solitude, they will continually violate the solitude of others. The only thing we have to bring to community is ourselves, so the contemplative process of recovering our true selves in solitude is never selfish. It is ultimately the best gift we can give to others.” (29)
The Hidden Wholeness
In the final section of the chapter, Palmer writes about “The Hidden Wholeness.” We are frequently taught that wholeness can be found in escape or retreat from the world into ethereal abstractions. Palmer says no. It is found by entering more fully into the difficult reality of this world. The answer lies not in getting out of it but in getting into it. Instead of trying to outrun the “monsters” that frighten us, we must turn and embrace them, recognize them as part of us, and be willing to learn what they might teach us. He concludes the chapter with this:
“When we live a full life of contemplation-and-action, the monsters will always be aroused, and we will be compelled to search the depths. It is good to know that those very monsters can take us to the depths we need to explore. It is even better to know that in those depths we can find the hidden wholeness that unites and energizes us, the source and the power that make us fully alive.” (34)
Summary
To summarize, contemplation and action are poles in a polarity that bring wholeness. Through action, we participate in co-creating reality with others and the Spirit. Instrumental work is an inescapable part of our existence, but a life absent of expressive work fails to bring what is unique about ourselves into the mix. But our world is a mixture of truth and illusion. How do we know who we truly are and what we might authentically bring to the world?
Contemplation is what unmasks illusion and reveals truth. Contemplation is often painful, prompted as it often is by disillusionment, dislocation, and solitude. Yet our culture is all about pain avoidance. We are inclined to deny pain, to medicate it, or to seek escape. But only by entering deeply into these painful circumstances do we find truth. With a better appreciation for the truth, we are capable of more authentic action. That action will lead to more disillusionment, dislocation, and solitude, but it will also empower us to be more truly alive in all aspects of our lives.
Questions
Have you had the experience of moving from separation to alternation to integration? What happened that moved you along in this progression?
Do you identify with the scariness of being unable to say what you do? Does it unnerve you that you and all you’ve done will soon be forgotten after your death? Why do you think that frightens so many of us?
What experiences of disillusionment, dislocation, or solitude have you experienced as gateways to better understanding yourself and the world?
What do you think about Palmer’s idea of embracing the monsters within us? Does that empower you? Terrify you?
Hmmm.
The modern contemplative movement is an unmitigated negative. The move to "touching" the Lord through "inner silence" is actively anti-scriptural and counter-productive. Given that strongly held opinion, I'm sure you can imagine how I approached this article.
As I skimmed it, though, none of the shibboleths of the contemplative community jumped out at me. As I read it, the author's use of the word contemplate is utterly classical. He's referring to a very active mental process, and one of deep value. I find this an excellent process and agree with his outcome.
I suppose it's too late to tell him the word, "contemplative," is taken by his enemies and he'll never win it back?
Thanks for the review
Posted by: Kevin | Apr 18, 2013 at 07:04 AM