For a brief moment, I thought about not including the word “integral” in this post. Instead, I was just going to discuss how good religion—whatever that religion may be—should lead the practitioner to a peace of mind not dependent upon conditions. This, in essence, would be the Wisdom Tradition’s (the religion’s) “litmus test,” so to speak. If the contemplative practices are not passing this test, then adjustments in the contemplative practices need to be made.
But I decided to keep the word “Integral” because that’s essentially what I am: an Integral contemplative. Now, to be honest, there is a lot in the current “integral world” that I’m not completely fond of. While I enjoy much of Ken Wilber’s writing—One Taste and Grace and Grit being my two favorites—he also has a tendency (as the non-dual psychologist Greg Goode has pointed out) to make the simple things very complex. So, although I enjoy Wilber and appreciate his contributions to philosophy, when I take the time to sit and read something contemplative, I prefer the likes of Pema Chodron, Thomas Keating, Thich Nhat Hanh, and Thomas Merton (to name a few).
What I’m getting at is that recently I’ve come to enjoy a lot of the writers in the Integral movement less and I’ve come to enjoy other writers (not typically associated with it) even more. But I am still very Integral myself—Integral has taught me, for instance, how to properly integrate my contemplative practices and my body practices (my powerlifting, bodybuilding, and strength training) into a cohesive whole. And Integral practices have a lot to offer the world.
But there is an issue with Integral philosophy—a very serious issue, I might add—that needs to be addressed. Many of its philosophers—armchair or otherwise—and practitioners are not experiencing (and apparently not even interested in) and peace of mind not dependent upon conditions. I realized this the other day when I was reading the book “The Eight Mindful Steps to Happiness” by the Theravada monk Bhante Henepola Gunaratana and I came across this passage:
“There are moments of contentment in any life, moments of pleasure and joy. But what about the other side you would rather not think about when things are going well? Tragedy, grief, disappointment, physical pain, melancholy, loneliness, resentment, the nagging feeling that there could be something more. These happen, too, don’t they? Our fragile happiness depends on things happening a certain way. But there is something else: a happiness not dependent upon conditions. The Buddha taught the way to find this perfect happiness.”
A few pages later, Bhante goes on to say this:
“Worldly happiness goes beyond sense indulgence. It includes the joys of reading, of watching a good movie, and other forms of mental stimulation and entertainment. It also includes the wholesome joys of the world such as helping people, maintaining a stable family and raising children, and earning an honest living.
“Most of us, even the most discerning, view these things as the essence of a good life. Why did the Buddha consider them part of the lowest forms of happiness? Because they depend on conditions being right.”
And it was at this point that it hit me: Studying and reading about Integral (even writing about it) is also a “lower form of happiness” if the Integralist is not (a) a contemplative, and (b) a contemplative who is cultivating a peace of mind not dependent upon conditions.
Cultivating True Peace of Mind
For the remainder of this post, I would like to offer a couple of ways that have been helpful to me in cultivating a happiness not dependent upon conditions, what we might call true peace of mind.
I want to make one comment, however, before continuing. Good contemplative practices are subtly good. Think about them and you won’t get them; you won’t catch the essence of what makes them work. But not thinking will not capture their essence, either. You must find that still, small place between thinking and not-thinking for these practices to work.
Contemplative Meditation
I used the words “contemplative meditation” here instead of just the usual “meditation” because “good” meditation should lead us to a deep, abiding experience of what we Really Are. In other words, meditation should be much more than just feeling better, learning to be a better human being, acquiring inner peace, and so forth.
It should lead us home—or at least help in leading us home—to our True Nature. Our True Nature is without boundary, and this abiding place of No Boundary is That which we should be seeking.
Listen to these words of Sister Elaine MacInnes—a Roman Catholic nun and Zen teacher—in her book “Zen Contemplation for Christians” as she explains the depths of Being to which contemplative meditation can lead:
“In the true, clear experience, there is nothing, or better still, no-thing to see. So how can it truly be called “one”? Yamada Roshi used to say it’s not even one. Therefore it’s true to say “not-two,” which denies objectivity. That is the deep truth in mystical experience. Our Christian mystics agree. Eckhart says we can only know God by what God is not.
“For the Buddhist, a deep satori is synonymous with salvation or certainly a large step toward the other shore. Buddhists call IT their own inherent Buddha Nature, or the empty-Infinite, as Yamada Roshi used to say. When we touch that inner Nature, or inner Essence, or whatever tag we want to use, we sink into that sea of Essence or Infinity, which opens us to the Reality that we and the Infinite are not-two. We come to understand that not only are we not-two, we are not even one. “One” is an entity, with a boundary, so to speak. The experience is beyond boundary. At that moment, all boundaries are gone.”
Faith as Deep Abiding
Another way we can cultivate true peace of mind is through faith. Faith gets a bad rap by many current contemplatives, but that is because of confusing faith with belief.
Belief, in many ways, has no place in True Spirituality. The two cornerstones of a good contemplative practice (and, therefore, a good religion) should be faith and knowledge.
Knowledge is not belief. Knowledge involves an understanding of Reality as it truly is. This knowledge is achieved by thought, by study, and by the contemplative practices of meditation and non-dual inquiry.
Faith, the other pillar, involves following a way. It involves surrender and (most importantly) it involves trust in this Reality as it truly is—God in his ever-present Isness which is also transcendent to us.
In this transcendence—the 2nd face of God, to use Integral speak—is where we put our trust. This trust is what I refer to as faith as deep abiding. You abide deeply in the presence of God—but it’s much more than just “practicing the presence of God”; it’s practicing this presence with trust, with surrender, and with deep faith.

