A Hidden Wholeness

I had not heard of the work of Parker Palmer until a friend mentioned it and I ordered this book on Amazon. He is the founder of the Centre Courage and Renewal (www.couragerenewal.org) with a background as a Quaker, which deeply informs his work in what he calls circles of trust. This book explores 'the shape of an integral life, the meaning of community, teaching and learning for transformation, and nonviolent social change.' The phrase 'hidden wholeness' comes from Thomas Merton and does not mean perfection but rather embracing brokenness as an integral part of life. The divided life is in this sense a failure of human wholeness as we compromise our deepest aspirations and therefore our integrity. This often happens out of fear. There is a story about a man who wanted to take a stand about a new piece of agricultural legislation, but feared the consequences with respect to his position. The circle of trust enabled him to realise that he ultimately reported to the land rather than to his boss.

A circle of trust is a community that knows how to welcome the soul and to draw forth the real truth of the participants by allowing the inner teacher to speak. Thus we can arrive at and express our own discernments. It is not a matter of fixing or saving people, however uncomfortable, but of creating a space for the authentic voice to emerge. We need to be seen and heard rather than fixed. I agree with Palmer that the soul wants to keep us rooted in the ground of our being, connected to community and to tell us the truth about ourselves and therefore enable us to live an undivided life. He expresses the paradox of being alone together or in a community of solitude to allow this process to unfold as we become fully present to ourselves and connected with others in the circle. Life and death are both mysteries to be honoured rather than problems to be solved. He points out that helping others may in fact harm, illustrating this with a heart-rending story of Nicos Kazantzakis trying to help a butterfly emerge from the chrysalis and killing it in the process.

Palmer gives advice on how to run a group with non-coercive leadership (more is explained on the accompanying DVD). Here he uses poems and stories to deepen the conversation arising out of the silence. There are beautiful pieces from Derek Wolcott, Emily Dickinson and May Sarton, but the highlight is the story of wood carver from Chuang Tsu. The perfection of his craft required a deep preparatory process without which it could not have been attained. The conversation arising out of this story could go on for a couple of hours as everyone relates it to their own circumstances. The same applies to the other poems encouraging us to work from the inside out. This is what Palmer calls the work before the work. In this context, he defines truth as 'an eternal conversation about things that matter, conducted with passion and discipline.' In this way, a tapestry of truth can be created from diverse strands of insight. He likens holding the focus to holding a small bird in the palms of our two hands, and warns against temptations to interfere with the process. He relates an arresting story involving the grandson of Carl Jung on a panel of experts about dream interpretation. One of the cards submitted contained a horrific recurring dream about a concentration camp and Palmer's friend began to prepare her interpretation. At this point, Jung's grandson simply asked people to stand in a moment of silence in response to the dream. A few days later, she was discussing this with one of her teachers who remarked that 'there is in life a suffering so unspeakable, a vulnerability so extreme that it goes far beyond words, beyond explanations and even beyond healing. In the face of such suffering all we can do is bear witness so no one need suffer alone' - a profound observation.

The last part considers nonviolence in everyday life, a commitment to honour the soul in every situation. Here Palmer introduces the important idea of the tragic gap where we must learn to hold the tension 'between the reality of the moment and the possibility that something better might emerge.' This combines realism with idealism and points to hope as a third way. It is not easy to hold this tension and we are inclined to react in a way that perpetuates the situation rather than draw on higher forces flowing through the broken heart. There is an old Hasidic tale about why we place holy words upon our hearts - they are closed, so that words cannot be placed in our hearts. However, when the heart breaks, the words will fall in. Palmer says that the wisdom of the soul is in suffering without shutting down, holding this tension and standing in the tragic gap. In this way, we can live and express an undivided life, recognising its gift but also transience. We can bring more being and intention into the actions of everyday life. This beautiful book opens up a space inside to help us do this.