I've often criticised The Process for being too psychologically oriented, and lacking in true spirituality. There were, though, aspects of it that did cut through its own psychobabbling fog. The most significant, to me, was the attention paid to the here-and-now.

The phrase 'be in time' was one we'd borrowed from Scientology. The theoretical notion was that by being in this state, one was not fantasising about the future, nor regretting or longing for the past. The condition itself was more than that, though. It was closer to dhyana, the Zen condition of dwelling in the vividness of the moment, and if The Process had any evidence to offer of being connected to a sacred source, it was this ongoing state that provided it.

I've been reading Daniel Ladinsky's book The Gift, his collection of 'translations' (really, free interpretations) of Hafez (or Hafiz), the Iranian poet and Sufi sage, and they remind me of the clarity of that state of being. It's one where we stop trying to negotiate for a better deal, and just rest in what we have. One of Ladinsky's renderings goes:

I know you have a hundred complex cases/ Against God in court/ But never mind wayfarer,/ Let's just get out of this mess. Which nicely captures the escape from everyday mental churning that in-timeness offers.

The Process induced this state it in its core members through increasingly concentrated involvement in the group consciousness. Its emergence in us was a sure sign of being ofThe Process, as opposed to being merely with it. Our eyes cleared, as if the lenses of our eyeballs had been polished. We stepped away from the constant reactivity of our minds, and our gaze and stance became steadier. Inner tension was released, and we had more energy and determination. It came at the cost of sacrificing a large measure of private autonomy, but at the gain of becoming part of a collectivity embodying calm and clarity. Again, Ladinsky:

A hunting party/ Sometimes has a greater chance/ Of flushing love and God out into the open/ Than a warrior/ All alone.

There are few things I miss from The Process. But there are times when I look at a sky or a sunlit building, and notice how rarely I can rest my vision upon such things with no mental filters, and no longings. Often, it seems I'm far too busy trying to get finished ever to arrive where I really am.

Ladinsky-Hafez again:

The earth would die/ If the sun stopped kissing her./ Hafiz is now such an exquisite world/ That perishes/ When God is not near.