An Interspiritual Approach
Q: You encourage us to contemplate Truth and reference shared ideas from multiple wisdom traditions. What does “interfaith” mean to you and the Forest Path, and how is it different from religious belief?
It is not so much interfaith that we are talking about here, though that deserves its own recognition, involving important conversations that cross divides and create new ways of thinking, respecting, appreciating, and approaching the spirituality of others. Here we are moving to what some call "interspiritual" as coined by the late Wayne Teasdale, and what I refer to as ‘universal mysticism.’ It is not a comparative religion, nor is it a philosophy; rather, it is more akin to the Perennial Wisdom—the mystic heart of humanity that is always poised, ready to give the direct, experiential revelation of the transcendent that is available to every being, no matter where they come from.
All around the globe, there are people, young and old, who are moving away from traditional values and religious institutions, while some are moving closer towards them. To the question, too, of lineage, many are wanting to discover where they come from, where the sacred lives in their family tree, to connect to the earth in their part of the world, their rivers, oceans, mountains, forests, deserts. To connect with the universe at large and their place within it. To find out who they are and their belonging here to the land, to themselves, to their communities.
It's not about doing away with religion or tradition, but rather zooming out to appreciate them, to see that we are all part of a great tradition—the tradition of humanity. And when we can appreciate the tradition of humanity, then all of the world's religions belong to us. We are not segregated into this tribe or that tribe, but we aim to evolve beyond tribalism, beyond an "us versus them" mentality, the "I'm right and you're wrong" attitude. We seek to overcome the story of competition and instead uncover the reality of communion. It is to see a little bit of the whole tracing and leading us to the source, woven throughout everyone and everything.
This attitude not only fosters respect for others’ faiths and beliefs but also deepens our understanding and respect for our own. We can draw on the wisdom of the revered 12th-century Islamic scholar and Sufi master Ibn al-Arabi, who said: “Be completely and utterly receptive to all doctrinal forms, for God, Most High, is too all-embracing and Great to be confined within one creed rather than another, for He has said, ‘Wheresoever you turn, there is the face of God.’”
When we trace the human tradition—the tradition of our shared humanity—we can observe an evolving movement, a trajectory towards something deeper. There is a subtle impulse, like a magnet, that draws us towards truth. In every age and culture, human beings have been called to inquire into the profound questions of life and to seek the truth and mystery that lie at its heart. Mysticism, we could say, is a religious inclination that does not necessarily depend on formal religious institutions. It could also be said that the world’s religions are founded upon the revelations of mystics, and that religion, too, fosters the emergence of mystics. However, this mystical awakening need not be contingent upon religion.
We should not throw the baby out with the bathwater and say that religion is bad. If someone has a primary religion, then that is their vehicle. They do not need to go somewhere else. They can find it there. They do not need to chop and change. But some people have a tendency towards multiple paths, and I want to reiterate that that's okay; that's wonderful as well. Some may follow a single thread that is woven in the tapestry and say that following multiple threads may not get you as far as if you just stuck to one. Some, however, like myself, may find no conflict in weaving many threads. For us, they are not multiple paths but a single path that, rather than slowing one down, reveals more textures of the tapestry.
Sometimes, when we have a tendency towards multiple faiths, we have difficulty reconciling within ourselves how to be traditional if we are, by all appearances, being untraditional. And sometimes, the person seems like they're choosing multiple paths, but for that person, that is one path, and that is their path, and that is okay too. Although the tapestry is made out of an infinite array of threads, textures, and colours, it is, at the same time, somehow seamless.
Ideally, rather than dig ten one-metre holes looking for water, we just dig one hole that will get us there. We’ll get closer to the water if we concentrate on what we’re doing—on our path, on our study, where we’ve discovered our location and our spirituality. So it’s not about chopping and changing either. However, there’s a wise turnaround here too that I first heard from Mirabai Starr, that says sometimes we are, in fact, digging one hole—we are just using twenty different tools to excavate. Whichever way we confront our path, whatever the tools we learn to use, it is the living waters are what we seek, and although water may be everywhere, we need to excavate our own well in order to know the source inside of us and quench our ageless thirst.
Ideally, rather than digging ten one-metre holes looking for water, we should dig one hole deep enough to reach it. You’re probably familiar with this idea when it comes to spiritual practice. We get closer to the water by concentrating on what we’re doing—on our path, on our studies—where we have identified our direction and our spirituality. It's not about constantly chopping and changing. However, there’s a wise turnaround, I first heard from Mirabai Starr, that sometimes we are digging one hole, but we’re using many different tools to excavate it. Whichever way we confront our path, and whatever tools we learn to use, it’s the living water we seek. And although water may be everywhere, we still need to dig our own well to discover the source within and quench our ageless thirst.
There are many people in the world today who are confused, moving away from traditional values, or haven't been brought up with them. They wonder how to move with these values or move without them, and that is okay too. I am convinced of a spiritual revolution happening in our future generations, because I am convinced that our evolution is not merely outward, primal, or technological, but spiritual. It is the inward reflected outward and the invisible made visible through our actions.
When we look at the human tradition, we want to see spirituality as an indivisible whole and find an inherent and universal mysticism as the underlying movement of all the great religious leaders—whatever path they followed, whatever path they carved, whichever direction they led. And we want to appreciate the perennial, self-propagating wisdom that continues to sprout through pastures, forests, deserts, mountains, and cities all over the globe. This wisdom leads towards a deeper meaning and unfolding, not just of the life of the individual and the community, but of life itself. If we can get close to that, appreciate that, experience and embody that, then it does not matter what we call it—the labels, the names, or the words we use to describe it—for there, in that intimacy with the infinite, we come closer to that which cannot be translated, and at the same time somehow find ways to translate, to foster dialogue and forge bridges of understanding across nations, faiths, and traditions.
I'm interested in the discussion that is not segregated, the one that is open, where we can dance with the Sufis, we can centre and find forgiveness with Christians, we can find compassion for all beings and realise the nature of the mind with Buddhists. I could paraphrase that wonderful poem of the Sufi master that says, “I go into the Muslim mosque and the Jewish synagogue and the Christian church and I see one altar.”
I find God in nature: beneath the leaves, beneath the stars, before the mountains, before the oceans. I find it in you because I have found it in me, and I have found it in me because I have found it in all things. If we cannot find God in all things, then we are looking in the wrong place. If some people have it and others do not, perhaps we have missed the mark. For if God is exclusive and not inclusive, then God is not in all things. And if God is truly in all things, then the divine presence is found not only in beauty, but also in suffering, in joy and in sorrow, in moments of clarity and in confusion. The invitation is to see beyond our judgments, beyond separation, and to recognise the sacred thread that weaves through every experience. In doing so, we embrace the wholeness of life, knowing that nothing is outside the reach of grace. When we open ourselves to this truth, we no longer seek God elsewhere, for the divine is already here, in this very moment.
This is what an interspiritual path means to me—to find God in all things and not exclude myself from that equation. It is to prophesy that the world is in deep need of this simple divinity, one that is not confined to the heavens or external authorities, but reclaimed and reinstalled in the roots of the earth and the hearts of the young, who are the future elders and flame bearers of the wisdom uncovered here in our hearts and in this ground.
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With the medicine path as well as the spiritual path, I see them blended, because they are. First, they ask us to turn within and then take what we discover and return it outwardly. For, to drink a sacrament is to inquire within, and to inquire within is to look at the whole that you are a part of. We cannot pull on one string without beginning to unravel the whole thing.
It has been said to be like the rays of the sun. There are many rays emanating outward from the sun—fanning, radiating, and illuminating in all directions. There is an infinite array of rays, infinite gradations, infinite radiations of that light. If we conceive of God as infinite, then there are infinite ways to come to God. We should not be confused about one way or another, nor concern ourselves with comparing to others, but instead find rest and communion—find stillness and continuation—in our way of approaching the infinite. The way we approach is unique and happens only from our internal turning towards the eternal. From there, it is impossible to compare to another, for the infinite path contains all paths.
And so, the rays of the sun that emanate from the source of light—are infinite. From the far end, the light may seem dim, but that is often where we begin. If we try to follow many rays of the sun towards the source of the sun, towards the light of the infinite, it may take a long time to get there because the movement is slower. But if we find one track, one ray, and we go very close, when we're very close to that source, then we can see all of those other rays in closer proximity. And when we are in that proximity, in that nearness, then from there we can find appreciation for all the ways, and there we can stand together. We can stand together because in that light, all light is one light. In the light, all is one. Once this is realised, then the dimness at the far end has just as much light as the centre, because the centre is now everywhere, in everyone as everyone, in everything as everything.
Interspirituality is about coming close to the mystic, close to this eternal light with great humility. For in it, we see that we do not do much or hold much on our own, that our life is just a blink, just a flap of a butterfly’s wing, just a small splash in a shoreless sea. Once we are close to that light, then we can see that we do, in fact, traverse many paths and are never far from the source and essence of the path. For just as the ray of the sun is the sun, the path and the goal are one.
There is a quote from Raimon Panikkar, who was a respected spokesman and authority on the topic, that says, "I left home as a Christian, I discovered I was a Hindu, and returned as a Buddhist without ever having ceased to be Christian."
Faiths are like flowers; if we have existing faiths, there doesn't need to be a conflict in finding value, appreciation, and wisdom in experiencing the aroma of another flower and the way in which it pollinates gardens. I believe that in this day and age, there are many young people whose role it is, and will be, to be cross-pollinators of these gardens, cross-pollinators of these flowers. Because it contributes to that great human tradition—the underlying mystic heart of humanity that is in each one of us.
Every faith is like a ray of the sun.
As we begin to walk towards that great light,
we are far from the other.
Yet, as we draw nearer to the light, we draw nearer to the other.
Until finally, there is no telling us apart.
When we shun another on the path,
it is only because we ourselves have not traversed the length of the light,
for in it, we would see that ultimately, it is only ourselves we shun.
Therefore, I do not concern myself with what faith one has,
so long as it brings them nearer to this light that shines equally on all everyone.
Excerpt from Walking the Forest Path: Volume 1, available in early 2025.
