For people drawn to a life of contemplation, the dawning of luminous awareness in a mind full of clutter is deeply liberating. In the third of his best-selling books on Christian contemplative life, Martin Laird turns his attention to those who are well settled in their contemplative practice. An Ocean of Light speaks both to those just entering the contemplative path and to those with a maturing practice of contemplation. Gradually, the practice of contemplation lifts the soul, freeing it from the blockages that introduce confusion into our identity and thus confusion about the mystery we call God. In the course of a lifetime of inner silencing, the flower of awareness a living realization that we have never been separate from God or from the rest of humanity while we each fully become what each of us is created to be. In contemplation we become so silent before God that the "before" drops away. Those whose lives have led them deeply into the silent land realize this, but not in the way that we realize that the square root of 144 is 12.Laird draws from a wide and diverse range of writers--from St. Augustine, Evagrius Ponticus, and St. Teresa of Avila to David Foster Wallace, Flannery O'Connor, Virginia Woolf, and Franz Wright--to ground his insight in an ancient practice and give it a voice in contemporary language. With his characteristic lyricism and gentleness, Laird guides readers through new challenges of contemplative life, such as making ourselves the focus of our own contemplative project; dealing with old pain; transforming the isolation of loneliness and depression into a liberating solidarity with all who suffer; and the danger of using a spiritual practice as a strategy to acquire and control.
This is the type of book that must be read twice if not multiple times to fully grasp the depth and width of this wonderful topic. Let me share eight key points I found very enlightening.
Intention
“The more we give our lives over to the practice of contemplation, the more our thinking mind is trellised by silence, the more easily thinking mind remains still and focused on what it is good at, such as thinking, inventing, writing, creating new ways to hold and heal.”
“Practice gradually trains the attention and grounds us more solidly in our bodies, increasing our ability to be where our bodies are at any given moment.”
“The present moment is our home.”
Silence teaches us how to live. Silence is a place we come from. Silence teaches us to be present. When we are present we do our best work: thinking, inventing, writing, creating new ways to hold and heal. Silence seems to show us the way forward!
Awareness
“Cultivating the skill of becoming aware of our thoughts allows for the possibility of choosing what we give our attention to.”
“By learning to choose what we give our attention to we open ourselves up to the possibilities of experiencing a situation with less anxiety and with more compassion.”
“We may think we are feeling our feelings but what we actually feel is the story we tell ourselves about our thoughts and feelings.”
We are not our thoughts. Yet, so many of us believe we are our thoughts and what they seem to tell us. When we cultivate the ability to observe our thoughts, we can choose which ones to believe and which ones to let go of.
There are thoughts that merit our attention and there are ones that will hinder our growth, progress and movement forward. It becomes particularly important during life’s most stressful moments to choose what we give our attention to. We can became an important source of strength and calmness for those around us.
Radiant Ground of Light
“The practice of contemplation gradually declutters our minds, gradually revealing the brightly polished floor—the radiant core of all—that we did not realize was already there.”
“The mind cleared of clutter allows the grounding radiance of unitive mind to manifest the fullness that is its essence, both in time and in eternity.”
“The practice of contemplation proceeds by the gradual removal of layers of clutter so that the radiant ground of light now shines less lumbered and encumbered.”
“Similarly the vast and radiant core of all being is already unspeakably vast and radiant despite the abundance of noise and clutter in our heads.”
During silent prayer we enter the vast and endless depths of God. Each time we return to the silence, we clear away more and more of the clutter. We begin to discover a new world that we did not know was there. Each time we enter the silence we explore more and more of the vastness and spaciousness of silence. It becomes a life long journey.
Dig Your Well
“Changing our practice often does not allow our practice to put down roots deeply into the soil of the present moment.”
“As we have said, a contemplative practice is something like a plant. If we are frequently digging up and replanting the plant elsewhere, it will not put down roots.”
My mainstay is centering prayer. I practice twice per day, twenty minutes each time. I have done so since June of 2014. I have found my well. Now I will dig deep into my centering well. And see where it takes me.
Reactive Mind….Receptive Mind….Luminous Mind
“Reactive mind simply does not register this depth-dimension, which has always been present.”
“Receptive mind is characterized by a growing sense of inner spaciousness.”
“It is important to emphasize that this luminous vastness, which begins to expand as our practice transitions from reactive mind to receptive mind, is not an extra quantity of vastness that has been added into the mix. Ever flowing, luminous vastness has always been shining like the sun.”
“In luminous mind our practice is free of any strategy to acquire, possess, and control.”
I love how Laird eloquently describes the stages we seem to go through in our silent prayer: reactive mind, receptive mind, luminous mind. Though it is more likely that we move back and forth between these stages. Silent prayer is never a linear process. Laird nicely describes the experiences one might go through in each “mind”.
The Mature Contemplative
“The maturing contemplative is too poor to be concerned with spiritual progress.”
“The fruit of practice is compassion, born of the fragrant wound of solidarity with all that is. It has nothing to do with outcomes assessments. We cannot behold if we are trying to assess.”
“As we release into our practice, we also release our control over ourselves as contemplative projects to be realized. What, when, or if anything happens is entirely up to God.”
We are all beginners. Each time I sit I like to think of myself as a beginner. Contemplative prayer is the world in which anything can happen. I simply rest in the rest of God. I open to the presence and actions of God within. I let God pray in me.
Depression
“Depression can help us stay anchored in the present moment; for it limits us to coping with getting through the day one step at a time, one half-hour at a time—whatever it takes. This is actually the only dosage life comes in: one step at a time (one day at a time can sometimes seem over-ambitious).”
“Insofar as we are aware of depression, there is something within us that is free of depression; otherwise we could not be aware of it.”
I do not suffer from depression. From time to time like anyone else I experience times of sadness, worry or a sense of hopelessness. When I do, I try to remember that there is something within me that is free of these feelings. I can observe these thoughts and feelings. They are not who I am. They cannot hold me back from becoming the person God intends me to be: my true self.
For those that suffer from long term depression, part three of this book is devoted to silence and depression. I highly recommend it. Laird magnificently navigates depression and the place in can take in silence.
Self Knowledge
“Fourth, self-knowledge becomes less a matter of knowing about ourselves than a falling away of self, a self unselfed of self, and therefore one with all in the intimate love of God, who has sought and found us from all eternity.”
It is in the silence that we let go of our self to discover a new self: one with all in the intimate love of God. This is who we are. We are a child of God who unconditionally loves us, yet patiently waits for us.
I encourage you to check out An Ocean of Light. Read it once. Go back and read it a second time. I did. Come back to it when needed. I know I will!
The latest book in Martin Laird's contemplative series is a welcomed addition. In the first of the three books, Into the Silent Land, Laird describes contemplative practice for beginners. He has a gentle way of writing and explains the practice in a way that is simply lacking in the literature. A Sunlight Absence tackles different obstacles that might get in one's way when contemplating, but also serves as a standalone book.
An Ocean of Light describes three different contemplative minds: reactive, receptive, and luminous. Laird masterfully describes the three minds, using the Church Fathers and contemporary voices. He emphasizes that these aren't "stages" or levels of "growth" or "progress" (though a reactive mind might imagine them that way), but rather places we all are at all at once or from time-to-time. The reactive mind "seemed to involve a good deal of bouncing off the sides of the phone booth in our head." It's that moment when you think you've been contemplating for five minutes and only a minute has past. The receptive mind is moving toward oneness with God, we don't just return to the practice, we release ourselves into it. We are receptive like moist, tilled soil. The luminous mind, exerts no effort. "We show up. We sit. We are. Just sitting, just being. There is no effort involved; this is an effortless effort. We do nothing."
Finally, it also features an wonderful epilogue on depression and how it intersects with contemplation.
This book challenged me and changed me to adopt new practices and disciplines. Recommended.
"The latest book in Martin Laird's contemplative series is a welcomed addition. In the first of the three books, Into the Silent Land, Laird describes contemplative practice for beginners. He has a gentle way of writing and explains the practice in a way that is simply lacking in the literature. A Sunlight Absence tackles different obstacles that might get in one's way when contemplating, but also serves as a standalone book.
An Ocean of Light describes three different contemplative minds: reactive, receptive, and luminous. Laird masterfully describes the three minds, using the Church Fathers and contemporary voices. He emphasizes that these aren't "stages" or levels of "growth" or "progress" (though a reactive mind might imagine them that way), but rather places we all are at all at once or from time-to-time. The reactive mind "seemed to involve a good deal of bouncing off the sides of the phone booth in our head." It's that moment when you think you've been contemplating for five minutes and only a minute has past. The receptive mind is moving toward oneness with God, we don't just return to the practice, we release ourselves into it. We are receptive like moist, tilled soil. The luminous mind, exerts no effort. "We show up. We sit. We are. Just sitting, just being. There is no effort involved; this is an effortless effort. We do nothing."
Finally, it also features an wonderful epilogue on depression and how it intersects with contemplation.
This book challenged me and changed me to adopt new practices and disciplines. Recommended."--Jonny
Much as I tend to devour books on contemplative Christianity, particularly any that might help me deepen my practice, I can never seem to get much from Martin Laird. Clearly he's an experienced practitioner and teacher. Perhaps his flowery metaphors get in my way? Maybe it's because he shares no personal narrative and so seems an impersonal narrator? Other authors seem to find more structure in the morass of spiritual formation. There's a lot of wisdom here; I just wish it were more engaging.
Love plumbs depths that our thinking mind cannot, and so must take love’s word for it. --Martin Laird, An Ocean of Light, xiii
The town where I live in Colorado sits on the edge of the plains at the foot of the mountains. To the west of us, Longs Peak and Mt. Meeker rise to elevations of 14,259’ and 13,911’ respectively. They are immense, immovable mountains that have given me new perspective on Psalm 125:1: “Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved but abides forever.” Some days the view is crystal clear, free of any haze and without even a cloud touching the mountains. On other days I watch as storms encircle the peaks, covering them in snow and blotting out my view of them. These constantly changing scenes often remind me of Martin Laird’s words in Into the Silent Land, “The marvelous world of thoughts, sensation, emotions, and inspiration, the spectacular world of creation around us, are all patterns of stunning weather on the holy mountain of God. But we are not the weather. We are the mountain. . . . When the mind is brought to stillness we see that we are the mountain and not the changing patterns of weather appearing on the mountain. We are the awareness in which thoughts and feelings (what we take to be ourselves) appear like so much weather on Mount Zion” (16).
Laird’s newest book continues to describe the landscape of the contemplative path, moving from mountains of stillness to an ocean of awareness. An Ocean of Light is the third book in Laird’s series on contemplative prayer, following Into the Silent Land and A Sunlit Absence. In An Ocean of Light, Laird builds on themes from his previous books, though he does so from different perspectives and in greater detail. Part I focuses on the illusion of God’s absence and the reality of God’s presence. Though we tend to assume God’s distance, and mistakenly think we can overcome such distance through effort or technique, Laird says,“God does not know how to be absent . . . The problem is that our vision is heavily lumbered, our minds deeply cluttered” (18-19).
In Part II, Laird describes how the decluttering of our minds moves a contemplative practitioner through states of reactive mind, receptive mind, eventually to luminous mind. Part III addresses depression in relation to contemplative practice and invites the reader to see depression as “the context for escaping the tyranny of an isolated self, as well as a solid base” that ties those suffering depression “to the wider community of those who suffer” (216-217). Laird writes with an intimate understanding of depression in Part III, suggesting a personal familiarity with such suffering that enables him to avoid any triteness or lack of empathy. Here, as with other states of mind described in the book, Laird leads as a guide who has come to know his territory through years of disciplined personal exploration.
By inserting third person narratives into otherwise abstract portions of the book, Laird invites the reader to walk alongside various characters through this landscape of the contemplative life. I was drawn in by the story of James, a character whom Laird uses to depict the reactive mind. Despite being fascinated with contemplative prayer and well-read on the subject, James, “has an arsenal of procrastination techniques to defend himself against doing what he desires most to do: to be still in the presence of the Lord (Ps 46:10).” From taking out the trash to cleaning the kitchen to reading text messages and checking Facebook at 5:30 in the morning, James “body-mind is a beehive of activity” preventing him from actually engaging the stillness he desires (64-65). Other characters bring different portions of Laird’s landscape to life: Millicent and Jonas catch glimpses of lightamid depression. Evelyn shows us a life of active service carried along by the current of awareness.
Compared to one another, these stories illustrate the fruit of a disciplined practice of contemplative prayer: Where James’s ego interfered with his practice of prayer, Evelyn’s ego has become translucent. Tracing this path from a glacier on the mountain to a unitive sea, Laird writes:
The ‘Sun of Justice’ (Mal. 4:2) melts egoic ice into water, reactive ego into receptive ego, which now flows into a stream. In turn the stream flows into creeks, rivulets, each with ever more abundant communities of ecosystems, and then into the mighty river that seeks but one thing: ocean (113).
An Ocean of Light is a field guide for those who dare to explore the inner landscape of the contemplative life. May those who read it be blessed to discover the rivers of living water which flow from the heart (John 7:38).
A triumph, even of the bookmaker's art. A small, beautiful hardcover, with relatively few words per page. Far from silence, but closer than most books. A quiet book format, embodying the book's message.
I agree with what I've read in other reviews, namely, the conceptual categories of reactive, receptive, and luminous mind are useful. Yes, when we are discussing contemplation, conceptual categories are of limited usefulness (as is all language), but within the limits of their usefulness they are useful, ha.
But, as others have said, the best part is the last chapter dealing with "depression and its friends," titled "Our Uninvited Guests." Contemplative prayer opens up what's inside of us, underneath our thoughts and feelings, until we realise that our identity is grounded in the infinite luminous Godhead who grounds everyone and everything. The more and deeper we are ourselves, the more self we share with others. So, depression places the contemplative in a position of solidarity and intercession with depression-sufferers everywhere. Depression is the doorway that opens up a firm and holy way into the lives of others.
I’ve really valued the three books in Laird’s trilogy. This one dove deeply into some of the issues for those who have been on the journey of contemplation for a while. Much of this terrain is hard to put into words so he did a good job of describing things that are really beyond description! At times I found his attempts to do this a little too wordy for my needs.
In his book, Martin Laird offers us an insightful and deeper than usual peek into the dynamics of self-awareness and how to simply be as the key to personal freedom versus the need to find ways to attain this freedom. Probing the realms of reactive, receptive, and illumined mind, Laird leads us to understand that by God's grace, it is in OUR power not to escape problems or tribulations but to cope with them in a manner that does not allow them to eclipse our dignity and self-worth. In conscious self-awareness comes freedom, and through freedom, inner peace and joy, though the lightning and thunder around us and inside our minds and hearts may assault us unceasingly. Definitely an important handbook for contemplatives, certainly a must-read for all audiences who seek meaning and interior peace.
I’d like to give 5 stars but I can’t ignore some of my niggles about this volume. Perhaps it is my own fault for reading it out of sequence. (Didn’t read his second volume in this series first.)
But my two quibbles don’t seem sequence bound. First, I found some of his examples contrived in the way I feel religious thought sometimes feels compelled to make itself relevant and/or popular. It gets dumbed down and unappealing and sounds like the audience is being underestimated in their ability or desire to understand something difficult.
Second, for such a beautifully bound and produced book, there could have been more care in the proofreading. Example: p. 217, “All failure and is grounded in Love.” That conjunction seems strangely unconjoined or am I missing something?
The content and message is beyond reproach, an inspiring guide to contemplative practice, rich with many resources.
Laird’s series on contemplative prayer is so beautiful. I feel somewhat bereft to be finished with the series. He is the quintessential modern guide to Christian contemplation.
“When we sit in silent contemplation, we sit in solidarity with all who suffer affliction. To realize that our pain, though personal, is not private to us is deeply liberating. As we sit on our chair, prayer cushion, or prayer bench or simply lie in bed because at the moment we cannot manage much else, we are free enough, even in the midst of depression that will not budge, to become a gathering place for all who suffer in this life. We become a bridge for all those who have no bridge” (p.218).
Each book in this trilogy has had some wonderful words about not on contemplative prayer but also aspects of life. For this book, the final chapter on depression, spoke to me as no other book has in the past. It was real, but it was tinged with hope. I'm sorry to come to the end of this trilogy but will be sure to pick it up again.
As always, deeply insightful and helpful. The deep reality of union with God that is the baseline of our existence, present both in Scripture and the witness of the church, is woven throughout to build out a contemplative practice that isn’t focused on results or metrics, but a loving experience of aware-ing the presence of God.
Wonderful book, lends itself to multiple readings. I would say that it’s not quite as good as his first book, but it offers other stories and perspectives.