Let me tell you how spiritual paths should work from beginning to end. I know it's bold of me to claim to know, but I'm taking my cue from the many spiritual teachers out there who speak with just this kind of audacious authority. You ask the average Joe or Jo on the street, "Is it best to be invested in things, to really care, to really commit--or is it best to be divested, to let go, to be really detached?” and they’ll say, “Well, of course, it depends.” The average Joe and Jo know that there’s no universal answer to this question. What’s funny though is that you can hornswoggle Joe and Jo with rhetoric that implies that it doesn’t depend, that you should always commit or conversely always let go. Accuse them of being “attached” or “clingy,” “addicted” or any other pejorative that denotes investment, and you’ll get them all tangled in shame, foolishly wondering why they can’t comply with the universal law that you should always be divested. Conversely, accuse them of being “uncaring,” “insensitive” “cutting and running” or any other pejorative that denotes divestment and you can get them all tangled up in shame, foolishly wondering why they can’t comply with the universal law that you should always be invested. It’s sad. People who feel really ashamed for failing to live by either one of these ridiculous, opposite, supposedly universal laws can go find a spiritual teacher who will teach them how to live by it. One Joe tells a Jo that she was too uncaring. Ashamed for not caring she finds a teacher who claims to be able to teach her the power of faith, commitment, and investment. Another Jo tells a Joe that he was way too attached. Ashamed for not being flexible, he goes off to a teacher who claims to be able to teach him the power of non-attachment, acceptance and divestment. These seekers want the peace of mind that comes from finally complying with the recipe, the universal law that one should always be invested. Or conversely always divested. But there’s a problem. The teachings themselves, these supposedly pure truths are each self-contradictory. The recipe for investment says, “Surrender into faith. Let go into holding on,” and the recipe for divestment says “Commit yourself to flexibility. Hold on to letting go.” So Joe and Jo go back to their respective teachers and say, “There seems to be a mistake. The teaching contradicts itself.” And the teacher, with a twinkle in his or her eye says “No mistake. You just haven’t solved the deep, ancient, esoteric mystery yet. There’s nothing wrong with the teaching. Stick with it and someday you’ll Transcend and Discover The Secret.” “But how can you hold on and let go at the same time?” “There’s a way. You just haven’t found it yet.” So Joe and Jo go away and try to get it right. They practice Luther’s surrender to faith, or the Tao’s “doing not doing.” And they kick themselves for getting it wrong. Some never get it. They spend their whole lives trying to meet the standard, to achieve this perfect non-contradictory state where they are both completely committed and completely detached simultaneously always. And others never get it. They strive but do not achieve that perfect balance where they’re never out of bounds, over- or under-invested, never invested where divestment is called for, and never divested where investment is called for. And still others never get it. They decide that The Transcendent state is where there are no standards. Cling; let go, invest; divest, who cares? It’s all good. It doesn’t matter. In the cosmic scheme, the enlightened just laugh a wise spiritual laugh at the folly of trying to live by standards. But some Joes and Jos struggle on, looking at investment and divestment from every possible ang