Openness, Another Name for God

Openness is the least blasphemous name for God.

            Rainer Maria Rilke (14 Dec 1875-29 Dec 1926)

While watching a lecture the other day, the speaker flashed a written quote across the screen:

Openness. A name – or more than a name – for God, for the Divine, for the universal consciousness, for love, Spirit, the Self. For the life force. The names are endless.

Rilke in his studio (Courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

Rilke was an Austrian poet who held as a core belief that the divine can’t be defined, contained, or limited by the use of human concepts or language . And that to give names or forms to ‘God’ or the divine is blasphemous because it reduces a limitless, evolving, mystery to a small, rigid projection.

Of course openness is also a human concept, an attribute ascribed by a human mind to a space, person, thing and so on. And it’s also a word – that is, it’s a bit of human language with all the baggage that brings with it.

So, do we simply have just one more human concept and word to add to an ever-growig list of names and forms of ‘God’? Not to forget that God is in itself a human invented concept and word.

But I get Rilke’s point: he was trying to move on from the tendency for us to use limiting names and forms. In his view the application of names and forms to the divine only serves to build walls that hide or obscure the divine, allowing the development of many and very often conflicting doctrines and dogma that have often been the cause of division and strife between the peoples of the world.

He thought dogma and doctrines of all kinds were meaningless and irrelevant when it comes to knowing the divine.

The Open’, he described as a state of pure existence unbounded and unfiltered by memory, fear or any other mental constructs we humans use to divide reality.

In other words a ‘good experience ‘ or a ‘bad experience ‘ are mental concepts that we come up with to label our experiences based on our fears, our memories or on the speculations of our minds and input from our senses.

Of course, being human beings in a material body living in a material world, we really do need to name, describe, label and judge our relationship to and experience of the world. The problem arises because we finally decide that these subjective experiences are in fact absolute reality and thus blind ourselves to any other options.

Openness is both the path to the goal and the goal itself. The way forward is to keep asking the big Who am I? questions – without insisting on getting hard and fast answers we then proceed to cast in concrete.

Embrace our own subjective experience without allowing it to become our apparent reality that only serves to keep us separated and subject to even more suffering.

Transcend it all. You are all.

All that is.

Why do I Pray?

‘Why do you pray?’ I ask myself. It’s not a rhetorical question: I really do want to know; it’s one of those big ‘Who am I?’ kind of questions.

‘I pray because I pray,’ I hear myself answer, sounding as if I am indeed responding to a rhetorical question.

‘So’, one might think (as I well might and sometimes do) ‘you pray without any ulterior motive at all? You don’t pray to get things? You don’t pray for healing for others or yourself? You don’t pray for peace and happiness for the world or yourself? None of these things?’

These are good, valid questions. And the answer is of course I do; of course I pray for healing for others and myself; I do pray for communal and personal peace. And happiness? Well who doesn’t pray in one way or another for happiness?

I do, however draw the line at praying for material things like money and physical objects to possess, that sort of thing. I believe  I don’t pray for ‘things’. I think so anyway.

So, what do I mean when I say ‘I pray because I pray’? Well, it’s not so much that it isn’t true, its just that at this moment that praying for praying’s sake isn’t the whole of life activity that I would like it to be. I would say it is a core aspiration that I am working towards.

You see, I want to pray, and to make my whole life a prayer. A prayer of praise and devotion; a prayer of gratitude and loving; and a prayer of service to all living beings.

If that’s the aspiration, then how come I’m still praying for all that other stuff of the world? Healing, peace, happiness, and the rest? How does that work one might ask (as I might and sometimes do ask myself).

Here’s what I’ve figured out so far: I have a strong sense that any prayers or prayerful activities I might make, are like vibrations, or ripples that interact with the vibrations and ripples emanating from countless, infinite even, other beings and from the fabric of the Universe itself.

In other words, not only the ‘created’ Universe, but the consciousness that is the origin and cause of the Universe, which is in reality life and love itself. Prayet is a way, I think, to make manifest an already existent link or union with what the hermits call the ‘Invisible Community’.

For example, if I’m chanting my mantra at any time day or night, I know that there are at least tens of thousands, if not millions of other beings all over the Universe doing exactly the same thing.

What I’m trying to say here is that, until I reach that pure state of making my prayer solely for prayer’s sake, for praise, devotion, gratitude, then it’s okay that I still pray for things that speak of a clinging still to the world (within my own boundaries of course!).

After all, all those creatures in who knows how many worlds and realms, all praying at the same time? There are some very powerful vibrations we’re talking about here.

I’ve been studying and thinking abut Bhakti  – the absolute pure love for and devotion to God – for a while now. And, for me, God is all those other living beings and the Universe itself (or better to say, all that exists, which I might add includes me!). So, in that sense praying for healing, for peace, for happiness, well, it’s good for us all.