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A Spiritual Journey - part 3

 

by Dominick Romano

 

 

     
 

Read Part 1 | Part 2

My yearning for some type of a spiritual life and the sense of belonging to something greater than my personal world followed me through my childhood and grew even stronger in my adolescence.

Around the same time that God was declared dead by Time Magazine, I began listening to the music of the Beatles. I was influenced so much that I actually learned to play guitar and formed a band. I started to take an interest in the world around me, especially the Civil Rights movement and anti-Vietnam War movements. I identified with what the hippies stood for even before I knew what it was. Something about the hippie movement, the style of dress and music and books had thrilled me when I was younger. By the time I left High School for College I had done more than admire the hippies. I had wholeheartedly become one. Did I embrace the ideology of the movement? Yes. And I did something about it: when I was drafted I made a commitment not to fight, applied for and received a Conscientious Objector Status.

The phenomenon of the hippies can be understood only in light of the generations that preceded and raised them. My parents’ beliefs had been formed in a time of scarcity and fear, where ours had emerged in a time when America was more prosperous and secure. My parents came of age in the era of the World Wars and the great depression. My Dad, of Italian descent, born here in the USA, along with his 2 sisters and 4 brothers, struggled through the years of the depression. He enlisted and fought bravely in Europe during World War 2. When stationed in Italy, he met my mother. She was a part of the Italian resistance. Born and raised in Bologna Italy, saw first hand the destruction the wars imposed on her country.
My generation, the byproduct of an affluent society, had the luxury to question the strict boundaries that our parents had blindly followed for generations, boundaries whose original meaning had been lost in time.

Their love of order and hygiene and tidiness, their sacrificial attitude toward their own emotional needs, their prudent ways with money and their respect for material things were in direct response to what they had not had. We, on the other hand, at least those of us in the glory days of the great American middle class, felt confined by the structures put in place by our parents. We wanted spiritual expansion, and sought it through new forms of music, dress, drugs, politics, relationships, and life-style. Everything that was constructed by generations of following blindly age-old ideologies was up for grabs.

For a while, my passionate desire to be “part of the solution” was temporarily satiated by my wish to see an unjust war ended. Of course, I was fueled by the typical longings of an eighteen year old and I found plenty of opportunities to participate in the general unraveling of an established order. Those were the days when sexual freedom and drug experimentation were explored with a naiveté that seems inconceivable today. Yet to us children of mostly middle-class, twentieth-century America, free expression took precedence over conventional mores.

But then came the draft lottery. As those who did not have to worry about the draft started to drop from the ranks of the movement, I started to realize that many were involved in this more for a sense of identity than for the cause itself. This woke something up within me, something that had been bothering me all those years. I started to see the mean-spirited rhetoric that pervaded much of the counter-culture movement. Now the hypocrisy of hatred within some of the peace and freedom groups began to gnaw at my conscience. How were we going to heal the wounds of the country if our own rancor was only intensifying, if we became the oppressor instead of the oppressed?

These questions echoed in everything I heard and saw. In the music world the drug of choice was no longer marijuana, but cocaine, even heroin. The black leather jackets of the Hell’s Angels had replaced the raggle-taggle, tie-dyed clothes of the hippies. The strident resentment toward men and “nonliberated” sisters within the women’s movement started to take precedence over a quest for liberation. The great heroes of non-violence—Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi—were dead, their message of tolerance and love no longer the unifying element of the movement. American involvement in the Vietnam War was about to be over, and the issues, never as simple as we had assumed, were even less clear-cut now.

I rode the wave to the shore and then watched people scatter in different directions. Some of my friends began to pay more attention to the direction of their own lives. Some involved themselves more seriously with politics and social action, seeing that as an avenue for change; others dropped out of school, moved to another country, or to a farm, or went down the dark path of heavy drug use. I looked for something that was missing in my life, something that was to come in the mid 70’s.

In my disillusionment I started to read more on the metaphysical subjects. Learn more about Astrology, numerology and Dream interpretation. Started delving into other religions and their histories. I began a long search for spiritual wholeness. My sense of alienation within my own religious ideologies reawakened my childhood hunger for a relevant spiritual path and a sense of some kind of communion with others. I started to reconnect my childhood forays into Catholicism, when I wanted to be a priest and all those times I went to church with my best friend’s family.

I was eventually led to Zen Buddhism and then to other Eastern religious traditions and even Satanism. We were riding the dying wave of the sixties, about to hit the shore with a painful thud.

At this time a fascination with Eastern philosophies had been growing steadily in America since the late eighteenth century, when different Eastern texts, including the Great Hindu masterpiece, the Bhagavad-Gita, were first translated into English. Eastern thinking profoundly influenced the transcendentalists in the nineteenth century.
In 1893 the first World Parliament of Religions was convened in Chicago, bringing together noted religious leaders and theologians from around the globe. Many of these leaders, in particular Soyen Shaku, a Zen Buddhist, and Vivekananda, a student of the
Hindu saint Ramakrishna, would have a lasting effect on American spirituality.
Around the turn of the century, with the advent of easier communication and travel, ideas from around the world began to permeate American thought. This melting pot of different cultures also provided an atmosphere of connection of different cultures religions and ideologies. Psychotherapy found its way from Europe. New Thought, a religious movement that began in the United States at the dawn of the twentieth century, drew on a variety of sources, including ancient Christianity, Hinduism, Transcendentalism, and the thinking of the American philosopher and psychologist William James. Movements such as Christian Science, founded by Mary Baker Eddy, and theosophy, founded by Helena Blavatsky, were born in these fertile times. The work of these spiritual pioneers, and of their students, set the stage for the wave of Eastern philosophies and practices that rolled into America in the 1970s.

So by looking at these major stepping stones and what is occurring now in current religious trends, I find that my perceptions of God, and the myths and legends that surround each theology, are like the pieces of a puzzle.
I tried to piece together a connection between our spiritual and our physical nature. I tried to bring in my own personal beliefs and those of current concepts in hopes that I could make some kind of connection to a clearer concept of God, ourselves and the relationship to the physical universe.
I tried and am still trying to look at every aspect of our religions, their histories and how much the stagnation has had on our social structure. I firmly believe that if we do not close the gap between Science and Religion we cannot move forward. I do feel we must connect with the mystical, with our souls and get back onto the spiritual path.

I know how easy it is to use the spiritual teachings to bypass the emotional ups and downs so natural to family and community growth. In my own life, self-judgment and the effort to rid myself of “ego”, which served me well in my attempts at saintliness, turned into an unforgiving attitude toward others and myself when I woke up to the fact that I didn’t want to be a saint. Likewise, years of unconscious neglect of my body left me ignorant of how to heal and nurture it when at some point youthful luck gave way to health problems. In the narrow definition of spirituality that we had adopted, there was little room for other forms of self-discovery, ones that would have rounded us out and made us whole.

 
     
 

 

     
 

Dominick Romano is the author of The Evolution of the Soul (2003), from which this article is adapted. He also wrote The Rooster Raising the Chick (2000) and My Heart & Mind (2001). He lives in Madison, NJ with his daughter Daniela.

 
     

 

     
   
     

 

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