Editorial: Spirituality
For me, spirituality means first and foremost adhering to certain ethical standards: being truthful, walking in peace, not breaking my word, and being there for others. Naturally, I don’t always succeed in this. To be spiritual means to be concerned with questions of the spirit, of the mind. At first, this can be all kinds of things, but it starts with being interested in matters that go beyond one’s own person and immediate situation in life. In this sense, small children are deeply spiritual; they treat all and everything they encounter as infused with being, leading us to concern for the environment is an important part of spirituality. To try to understand the world in its materiality as an extension of the self and to handle it with care. Reflecting on oneself and the world as well as engaging with the divine, cosmic or universal are also steps along the way. The ancient Greeks held the striving for what’s beautiful and good in the highest regard. These can be things, values or attitudes such as the search for truth, for liberation and for the right measure in all things. There are many people who draw their spirituality from their religious faith. Others are guided by the perennial philosophy, the wisdom of the world. Most people do not want to kill, but to live in peace, to honor their parents and families, to pursue a meaningful occupation and to grow old in dignity, if at all possible. In my experience, people are the same everywhere, only their customs vary. What spirituality cannot be for me, however, is to tell others by commandments or dogmas what or how they must believe, or which feelings are allowed, and which are taboo. It is not in practices like meditation, mindfulness or contemplation that the spiritual proves itself, but in everyday life. Good deeds are not enough; it is the attitude that counts. And even if one exchanges ideas with like-minded people, in their spirituality, everyone is on their own.
With spring greetings, yours
Susanne G. Seiler
Light of the moon
Moves west, flowers’ shadows
Creep eastward.
Yosa Buson