The Right Way
by Jeffrey Pierce
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For just a moment, let's pretend that our spiritual path is a house. For argument's sake, let's imagine that I'm not only a spiritual teacher, but I'm also an architect. Since it's what I know, I will teach you the right way to create a house - and that's at a drafting table.

In all honesty, my role is closer to that of a tour guide than it is to an all-knowing instructor. A good teacher will point out landmarks, show you animal habitat and edible flora, and will give you the freedom to explore on your own. I'm here to offer direction; not dictate the trail to follow.

So all of you believe me and follow things exactly the way that I teach them - except one. While you're very interested in learning how to build a house, your intuition keeps pulling you towards lumber, saws, hammers and nails.

"That's not the right way to do things," I tell you. After all, I'm the teacher so I clearly know how things are done. "Leave that wood alone. You'll only hurt yourself or screw things up. Come over here to the drafting table and let's work on our house."

Obediently, you come over to the drafting table and learn. Your heart still pulls you toward the lumber, but you want to do things "the right way." Finally, after countless exhaustive hours, the blueprints for our house are done. You step back with pride and look at what you've accomplished. You and the other students are now trained the right way to build a house!

Except, as you look around at your classmates, you realize that you're not homebuilders. You're standing in a room full of architects.

Now what do you do?

Following the Path

When I use the word "path" you may notice that it's singular. That does not mean - in any way, shape or form - that the way that I teach is the only way that the path should be followed. Many students, especially those who come from religious backgrounds, arrive expecting that there is one way to follow "the path."

Imagine that we’re standing at the edge of a valley looking up at a range of mountains. While there is a clear pass through the mountains, there is no trail. The pass embraces meadows and forests, a sparkling river, and the rocky base of the towering peaks.

So what's the right way to follow "the path" through the mountains?

Do you walk through the forests and rivers? Do you climb the mountains? Do you follow the riverbank or even travel up the river itself? You can't get lost. The towering peaks form an obvious corridor. You can wander in circles for a time, but simply looking up at the mountains will show you the way through.

My role, as a spiritual teacher, isn't to tell you, "This trail is the only way to make it through the mountains. Follow it or you will be hopelessly lost and never arrive at the destination." In all honesty, my role is closer to that of a tour guide than it is to an all-knowing instructor. A good teacher will point out landmarks, show you animal habitat and edible flora, and will give you the freedom to explore on your own. I'm here to offer direction; not dictate the trail to follow.

Singular Doesn't Equal Only

When a spiritual teacher extends instruction to you, they are not, by any stretch of the imagination, showing you the only way to do something. A competent teacher will simply show you how the process works for them - but that may not be the way that it works best for you. This isn’t math with one right answer; this is your spiritual path.

Imagine that we're all standing at the opening of the mountain pass and its beginning is defined by a shimmering curtain of light. "When you step through this barrier, it will change you into your true self. Only as your true self will you be able to travel through these magickal mountains."

Our group steps through the shimmering barrier one at a time, gathering at the other side while we wait for others to catch up. You're shocked to see that I've become a wolf and even more surprised when you realize that you're a fox. Turning, you watch other students step through one at a time, turning into deer and birds, squirrels and bears, even a spider and a fish.

If the wolf-teacher suddenly announced, "There is only one way through these mountains - let's start following the trail," there would be murmurs of dissent if not outright mutiny.

"I'm a fish!" one of the students would exclaim. "How am I supposed to follow this trail! I can't even breathe!"

"You don't expect me to walk, do you?" asks the bird. "I actually have wings and can finally fly like in my dreams. Don’t tell me I have to hop along behind all of you!"

Each of us is different, sometimes radically so. When I teach in-person workshops, there is always at least one person that simply isn't wired to connect with the material. Imagine teaching a class on visualization and one of the students comes up to you at the beginning of your first exercise and whispers, "I can't visualize anything. I've never been able to do so. I was hoping this class would teach me how." After working with them one-on-one for a few moments, you discover for whatever reason that their energy simply isn't conducive to visualization.

Does that mean they're incapable or wrong?

No. It means they're a fish and you're asking them to follow a trail.

What we discovered togehter is that while they couldn't see visualize energy in their mind’s eye, this particular student could feel visualized energy acutely, so we focused on that instead. They would summon different forms of energy and feel them rather than seeing them. Even so, they felt they were inferior to the rest of the class – until I explained to them that they had simply skipped the first handful of lessons that many needed to embrace what the student could naturally achieve.

Map and Compass

You'll hear me say, countless times, "Your heart is your map and your intuition is your compass. Follow them and they won't lead you wrong." In order to do that, you have to do one of the bravest things you will ever do.

You need to trust yourself and your intuition - sometimes over what someone else is telling you is right - and then follow that intuition.

In all of the teachings I offer, I honestly don't know that there is any single lesson that is more challenging for most people to embrace.

We're so frequently taught that "different" is "bad." How are we taught that? It’s simple. We're actually told that. There are right answers and wrong answer. How many times have we been told, “If you believe different from what I believe, you’re wrong?” Even when we aren’t personally told that, we encounter it constantly in our culture – especially through the media and religion.

What we need to understand is the importance of diversity. Yes, architects are important, but we need carpenters and masons, electricians and plumbers. Each time we tell someone, “No. This is the only way to believe,” we lose something as a community. Math has concrete answers. Spirituality is as unique as each of us are as individuals. A uniquely diverse approach does not work in mathematics just as a “one right answer” approach does not work on our spiritual paths.

Origins Break Molds

Everything in all of existence that there is to learn or to teach had to be discovered by someone for the first time. There are no exceptions to that. For instance, someone had to be the first person to construct a bow or bake the first pie or create the first printing press. It seems like a pretty simple concept to most of us.

What we don't consider is that to learn something new, the person who discovered it had to break the accepted mold. They had to try something new. It doesn't matter if it was the Wright brothers, Nicolai Tesla, Louis Braille, Johann Gutenberg, Sir Alexander Fleming, or Samuel Morse - to bring something new forward that could be taught, new ground had to be explored.

This same concept applies to spirituality. Anyone who thinks that we approach magick and spirituality the same way that our distant spiritual ancestors did is terribly mistaken. Concepts, theories, techniques, and applications are constantly evolving. If we keep doing the same thing the same way each and every time, our path will grow stagnate. When we take that approach, we’ll quickly discover that we're merely treading water. To move forward, we have to try something new. We're not always going to get it right, but we will learn from those mistakes, refine our approach, and try again.

Gaining Wisdom

In my experience, we learn as much or more from our mistakes than we do from our successes. Take cooking, for instance. I can't tell you how many times I've whipped something up off the top of my head, had it turn out exactly right the first time, and was never able to recreate it as I had no idea what steps I took to create the dish. On the other hand, there have been countless times when I've altered existing recipes, trying this one time, backtracking and trying something else the next time, where I reached the point that I could easily create the meal over and over again. What's more is that my mistakes mirrored my successes giving me insight into the process as a whole. Any good cook will tell you that they've been on a similar journey. A person who can take a taste from a brimming pot, say, "This needs a little…," reach for the spice and simply add the right amount without measuring wasn't born with those abilities. They learned them by trying new things, by modifying what worked, and by giving themselves the freedom to make mistakes.

So why don't we do the same thing on our paths?

Is it because we think we'll spoil our relationship with the spirit world if we misstep? Or because some door that was open to us will be forever closed if we don't "get it right"? Are we concerned about being judged by our gods, our teacher, or our peers?

This is a path where there are no grades. If Spirit is the very embodiment of love, then by extension, we are loved and accepted as well on our spiritual paths. When we begin to explore, when we step through that shimmering curtain at the mouth of the mountain pass, we're transformed. Before we took that step we were who were yesterday; taking that step, we become the seekers we are today.

The key isn't to try to do things a certain way or to mimic the wolf-teacher when you're really a seeker-fish. Follow the same heart, the same intuition that led you to the mouth of the mountain pass. If your heart and intuition safely carried you that far, they won’t simply stop working and lead you astray. With each step on your path, be unafraid to follow that intuition and try new things, even if you're the only one who is trying them. Listen to your teachers and your fellow students; while they may not be exactly the same as you, the only way teacher-wolf will learn what it's like to live beneath the surface is to listen to seeker-fish. You don't have to adopt another's path, but be willing to glean the wisdom and insight that's offered you.

As you walk the path, maybe you'll leave the group behind, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll discover some secret that no one has ever even considered; maybe you'll stick with the tried and true. The only thing that is truly important isn't how you embrace the material, the techniques you employ, or what works for you. It's that you're true to yourself. At the end of the day, if you can look back and be proud of who you are and the choices you've made, you're exactly where you need to be - regardless of whether that goes with the flow or against conventional wisdom.

Thoughts? Comments? You can contact us at connect@oldways.com or interact with Jeffrey, Briana, and the Old Ways community on our Facebook page.

Originally published in Old Ways on May 29, 2010