We are all shaped by our past, but the journey to self-understanding and personal philosophy is rarely a straight line. For me, while my father's family was of Irish descent (he mostly left my life when I was 3 and we were living in Spain), my mother's family is of Czechoslovakian descent and so the path has been long, winding, and full of exploration — beginning in my Slovak Catholic upbringing, moving through my study of and degree in, psychology, and eventually arriving at my own form of Buddhism and Humanism, all crafted through years of personal learning and introspection.
It’s not a "traditional" Buddhism — far from it — but one that resonates deeply with me, grounded in the original teachings of the Buddha, modified by an open, scientific mind.
The Catholic Foundation: A Starting Point
Raised in a Slovak Catholic household, my early years were defined by rituals, dogma, and a community of believers who lived their faith with devotion. Catholicism provided me with an early understanding of ritual, morality, and a sense of belonging. But as I grew older, I started questioning what I had been taught. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing, that the answers provided by religion weren’t as satisfying as I had hoped.
Breaking Away: A Search for Truth
In high school, I began my intellectual journey, starting with psychology and broadening into other religions. I wasn’t content to simply reject my upbringing; instead, I sought out other traditions, attending different churches, reading religious texts, and talking to people from various faiths. I wanted to understand — not just what was right or wrong, but how each belief system fit into the complex puzzle of human experience.
It was through this process that I discovered the basic teachings of Buddhism. But my approach was far from traditional.
The Path I Chose: A Modern, Practical Buddhism
Unlike the Buddhism practiced in countries where it’s been entrenched for centuries, my form of Buddhism is more of a personal, pragmatic approach — one grounded in the Buddha’s core teachings, but without the added layers of mythology, reincarnation, or sectarianism. I didn’t buy into the different "schools" of Buddhism that have evolved over the millennia. I instead focused on the Buddha’s teachings themselves, as he outlined them: suffering, the cause of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path leading to the cessation of suffering.
This approach allowed me to take the essence of Buddhism without the doctrinal baggage that has piled up over centuries. Zen has had a particular resonance for me. The Buddha’s instruction to "kill the Buddha when you meet him on the road" — a radical rejection of attachment even to the teachings themselves — has always stuck with me. It’s a reminder that no idea, no teacher, no system should be clung to too tightly. The essence of wisdom isn’t in what we’ve been told, but in how we live and embody that wisdom.
A Scientific Lens: Buddhism and Rational Inquiry
But there’s another crucial aspect to my journey: science. I wasn’t about to accept any belief system without critical thought. The study of psychology gave me a framework for understanding the mind, emotions, and human behavior. It wasn’t enough to just take Buddhism at face value. I wanted to ground my spiritual practice in reality, using evidence and empirical understanding to guide my choices.
This meant acknowledging that I couldn’t fully embrace the idea of reincarnation. Instead, I approached it as a concept rather than a truth. I recognize the possibility, but I don’t base my life around it. I prefer to focus on the Buddha's teachings in the present moment — on mindfulness, awareness, and self-regulation.
In essence, my form of Buddhism is a practical, secular approach to personal transformation, one that operates in the real world. It guides my decisions, my relationships, and my understanding of suffering and compassion — all informed by my personal experiences and years of study.
Living the Path: A Modern Approach to Buddhism
The Buddha's teachings are more than just religious doctrine — they are tools for navigating life with clarity, equanimity, and mindfulness. For me, this means using the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths and Eightfold Path as a guide for understanding and addressing life’s challenges. Whether it’s dealing with personal suffering, the suffering of others, or the overwhelming complexities of life, Buddhism provides a framework to respond with awareness and compassion.
But it is not a path of blind faith or reliance on supernatural beliefs. Instead, it’s a continuous journey of self-discovery, reflection, and evolution — a way of shaping my understanding of life and the universe, informed by the best available knowledge and insights from both Buddhism and science.
The Journey Continues
This is not a destination, but an ongoing process. My understanding of Buddhism, and of life, continues to evolve as I learn, grow, and encounter new experiences. It is not an identity I attach to — but rather, a way of being that allows me to continually check my own assumptions, reconsider my orientation, and live more fully in the present moment.
I didn’t find all the answers in one religion or philosophy. I had to ask questions, explore deeply, and synthesize what resonated with me — and through this journey, I’ve discovered a form of Buddhism that feels uniquely suited to my life. A life guided by reason, empathy, and mindfulness.
And while it may not be the Buddhism practiced in monasteries or by those born into Buddhist cultures, it is mine — shaped by experience, knowledge, and an unyielding search for truth.
Thoughts
If there’s one thing I’ve learned on this journey, it’s that spirituality doesn’t have to be about adherence to dogma or following pre-existing systems of belief. It’s about finding what works — what brings peace, clarity, and wisdom to your life.
I invite anyone who’s on their own spiritual journey to explore, question, and find the path that feels most true to their own experience. Whether that path leads to Buddhism, science, or something entirely different, the goal remains the same: to live a life of awareness, compassion, and understanding.
But there's more...
"The Urantia Book: A Revelation for Humanity" (1995) by Martin Gardner details a history of how this book came to be written, but also about the local environment it was developed in. Which includes some of the American history detailed in the meme above.
The Urantia Book: A Cognitive Reorientation
When I first encountered the Urantia Book in the early 1970s, I didn’t approach it as a religious text in the traditional sense. While its content — an intricate narrative of the universe’s history, cosmology, and divine beings — is undeniably fascinating, I found its real value not necessarily in its doctrines, but in the way it reoriented my perception of the universe.
The Urantia Book demands a radical rethinking of basic concepts. It challenges how we understand everything — from the nature of God to the structure of the cosmos, and even the very words we use to describe existence. Words like "truth," "reality," "spirit," and "life" take on new meanings, encouraging the reader to redefine them in ways that make their usual sense seem limited or outdated. This shift is subtle yet profound: you start seeing connections between things that seemed unrelated before, and you begin to perceive more in less — finding depth, richness, and layers of meaning in moments or ideas that once felt trivial.
For example, the book introduces a cosmology where life is part of an evolving, interconnected, and purposeful universe. This perspective isn’t just about celestial realms and divine beings; it forces you to expand your understanding of life itself — the interconnectedness of all things, the purpose behind suffering and joy, and the dynamic nature of existence. It's not about dogma; it's about mental reorientation. By altering your understanding of certain concepts, you begin to view your place in the universe not as fixed, but as part of an ongoing, expansive journey.
A New Way of Seeing: From the Religious to the Philosophical
My son’s journey into the Urantia Book, along with his exploration of other religious texts like the Bible and the Qur’an, is part of this same broader quest to challenge assumptions and expand mental horizons. But the Urantia Book offers something unique: it alters the way you think about the universe, existence, and even the very nature of reality. It's like a lens through which you see the world more expansively and richly. But in this, it’s also a bridge between religion and philosophy, especially as he continues his studies.
Where the Bible and Qur’an offer moral frameworks and narratives rooted in faith and divine authority, the Urantia Book invites the reader to engage with its teachings in a way that feels less like doctrine and more like an invitation to think expansively. In this way, it challenges the mind to evolve, much as the Buddha’s teachings, Zen practices, and phenomenology encourage deep personal reflection and critical thought.
This is why I suggested that my son turn his focus next to Phenomenology of Perception by Merleau-Ponty. Just as the Urantia Book altered my perception by expanding the definitions of key terms, Merleau-Ponty offers a philosophical deep dive into how we experience the world — how perception, embodied experience, and consciousness shape our understanding. For someone who has already been questioning and expanding his spiritual and intellectual horizons through religious texts, this philosophical shift is a natural progression. It’s an exploration of how the mind constructs meaning, which ties beautifully into the way Urantia reorients one’s mental framework.
A Journey of Expansion: Final Thoughts
The intellectual and spiritual journey I began decades ago — from a Slovak Catholic upbringing to an open-minded exploration of multiple religious and philosophical systems — mirrors the journey my son is now undertaking. What we seek isn’t simply the answers to life’s questions, but the expansion of our minds and the deepening of our understanding. Whether it's through the complex cosmologies of the Urantia Book, the grounding philosophies of phenomenology, or the timeless teachings of Buddhism, the goal is the same: to grow beyond the limited confines of inherited belief and engage with life in its fullest complexity.
For me, The Urantia Book was never about accepting its content as absolute truth. Instead, it was a tool — a way of reshaping how I perceive the world. It altered my mental framework structurally, not in my knowledgebase or beliefs, thus inviting me to think bigger, to see more deeply, and to question what I thought I knew. This is the gift I hope my son receives: not just intellectual knowledge, but a deeper, more flexible understanding of reality itself, one that keeps evolving as he continues his journey of inquiry and exploration.
Regarding the concept of 'questioning authority': it's crucial to understand when to question and when not to, as some can get carried away with unfounded beliefs, losing their ability to think critically or function rationally. For within that is an orientation that can destroy families, or even entire countries.
As I continue to guide along my own path, I realize that the most important lesson I’ve learned — through every book, every conversation, and every experience — is that wisdom isn’t a destination. It’s a continuous process of transformation, constantly challenging and expanding the boundaries of our perception.
Compiled with aid of ChatGPT
