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Hello! Welcome to this manifesto on grounded spirituality. Part One is called Spirituality is Bad, in which I describe my transformative first encounter with the great clown Pagliacci. Part Two is called Spirituality is Good, in which I describe my transformative second encounter with the great clown Pagliacci. Enjoy.
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Spirituality is bad: mystical escapism
Went to the healer. Said, “I’m depressed.” Told her, “Life seems materialistic and meaningless.” Professed, “Dabbled in the corporate world and it was all bullshit. Tried activism and it burned me out. Seems like society is doomed.”
Healer said, “Treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.”
“Can’t you just align my chakras?” I asked.
“I could,” said the healer. “But it would only make your problem worse. The great clown Pagliacci will explain to you why.”
That night at the theatre Pagliacci burst through the red curtains with a frown. He squinted through the stagelights and met my eye. Then he bellowed:
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, “processing” hysterical naked,
rolling themselves through the ecstatic dance halls at twilight looking for a cathartic fix,
Buddhadrunk urbanites burning for ancestral connections & nonduality in the primal play orgy,
who Om-tattoo and earth-sign and ayahuasca no-blink eye-gaze into the LED shadow-work of Burning Man camps with dreamcatchers catching fleets of polyamorous art cars revving tantric engines,
who poured out their intellects for lifetime lobotomies to feel high-vibration healing from the eighth chakra crystal bowl kundalini flow,
who retreated through global circuits of festivals and sessions and workshops and more and more retreating and more retreating to circle infinite games of authentic relating.
What siren of fragrant sage and divine femininity acupunctured open their skulls and smoked up their brains and imagination with a deep belly breath in?
Mara! Addiction! Escape! Illusion! Lightwork and shamanic aesthetics! Drug deal mysticism under the ashrams! Attainments as packaged goods! Egos abandoned for even bigger ones instagramed out of flowing hemp harem pants and tangled ropes of mala beads!
Mara! Mara! Rootless in Mara! More-evolved-than-the-normies Mara! Self-love-except-for-my-left-brain Mara! Healing-the-world-one-cacao-ceremony-at-a-time-with-my-enlightened-upper-middle-class-Costa-Rica-jetset-acquaintances Mara! Mara the new age cinematic universe! Mara the healing-industrial complex! Mara the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
At this last bit, spittle flew from his lips into the audience, landing on my knees. Everyone laughed. I didn’t see what was so funny; I had gotten a lot of value out of ecstatic dance and authentic relating. Clearly this was not the clown for me.
But as I filed out with the rest of the audience, a voice behind me shouted, “Hey you!” It was Pagliacci, peeking out from behind the red curtains. He beckoned me toward him with one outstretched finger.
I followed Pagliacci through the curtains, down the hall, and to his dressing room, where he gulped down a glass of water and wiped sweat from his brow.
I bowed my head and so began our dialogue:
ME: Oh great clown Pagliacci, my healer sent me to––
PAGLIACCI (British accent): Yes, I know why you’re here. Oh dear, that’s not the one you need. One moment. [He undoes his bow tie and continues in an old-time Brooklyn accent.] Like I was saying, I know why you’re here. The healers in this town, they’re fed up with you guys, knocking on their doors like junkies for shots of nirvana. “Just make me shake and wail one more time and I’ll be OK!” “Just one more medicine ceremony to integrate my shadow and I’ll be complete!” Not gonna happen, bub.
ME: But––
PAGLIACCI: Honestly, your generation is exhausting. Endless sessions with therapists and coaches and shamans. Does it actually work? Looks like navel-gazing to me. But meanwhile you get to claim to be more advanced than everyone else. [Blows a raspberry] Bullllllshiiiiiit.
ME: Then how will I heal?
PAGLIACCI: Ha! Buddy! Do you even know what you mean by “healing?” You know, bodies, when they heal? They just go back to being the way they were before the damage. But you’ve been damaged your whole adult life, chief, just like the rest of us. So what are you even healing towards? Becoming a friggin baby again? Who you gonna be when you’re healed? Have you thought about that?
ME: Uh…
PAGLIACCI: I was all depressed like you once. So I go to a doctor – one of these holistic naturopaths, the ones who are all mystical and shit. Guy tells me, “Treatment is simple. Go see the great clown Pagliacci.” I tell him, “But doc, I *am* Pagliacci.”
ME: Well that’s a twist.
PAGLIACCI: Yeah not really. He was just playing guru, setting me up for one of those Zen koans. So, this doc, he summons that breathy voice – you know, the one that’s mandatory for all mindfulness types – and he says, “Ah. Of course you’re Pagliacci. It said that on your chart. Hmmm. Then it appears that you must see…*yourself*.”
ME: Wow. A bit cringe.
PAGLIACCI: These spiritual people, they lose their sense of taste. I guess it’s one of the things you lose attachment to when you get enlightened. Anyway, so I spent two years nomading around the world trying to discover myself. Meditating and introspecting and being coached by coaches who coach coaches, all of that. And sure, I got some insights. It was great.
ME: And…
PAGLIACCI: And what?
ME: Did it make you happy?
PAGLIACCI: I’ll say this: I had some seriously ecstatic experiences – way beyond anything I thought possible. But no, it didn’t make me happy. Mostly it just made me useless to my friends and colleagues, which made me even more depressed. They’d invite me to their birthday parties and I’d cancel on them last minute to stay home and do yin yoga with aromatherapy candles for self-care. My half-sister, she’d call me up and say, “Pags, the fuck is wrong with you? Mom said you won’t talk to her anymore.” And I’d be like, “Ay, right now I feel a tension in my solar plexus in response to all this negative energy.”
ME: Damn.
PAGLIACCI: Yeah. The worst of it? I lost all my spontaneity as a clown. I was obsessively checking in with my body and my “higher-self” before doing anything. I looked like a goddamn glitchy robot on stage. They threw tomatoes at me.
ME: I’m sorry to hear that. Curious though: Did you learn anything about how to maintain those ecstatic states you’ve discovered?
PAGLIACCI: [Sighs.] Before I answer that, lemme change character for a second. [He goes behind his dressing screen and then emerges. Now he is wearing long orange robes, a necklace of beads, and a wig of thick black hair.]
GURU-PAGLIACCI: Hello, my brother. So: you are unhappy and want the secret to happiness, yes?
ME: Yes.
GURU-PAGLIACCI: How is your current job, my divine brother? Your work?
ME: It sucks.
GURU-PAGLIACCI: And community? Are there people who would support your projects and sit with you through grief?
ME: No. It’s really hard to find community in a city.
GURU-PAGLIACCI: True, very true. These days community does not simply happen, one must grow it oneself. So, my brother, you must be exhausted after so much googling around for interest groups, trying to move to the same neighborhood as friends, hosting regular dinners, starting collaborative projects…
ME: No, I haven’t tried stuff like that.
GURU-PAGLIACCI: Oh. No? How interesting. And how about your diet, exercise, sleep, health, hobbies, and other such things? How about finances? I hope you are not one of those people who are poor by choice.
ME: I dunno. All those things are so mundane.
GURU-PAGLIACCI: I hear you, brother. But have you devoted yourself to them the way that one might devote himself to the goddess?
ME: Well, no. Not yet.
GURU-PAGLIACCI: Hmm. These *mundane* things, as you call them, they are the types of things that make normal people happy. PDIs: positive daily influences. Did you think you could could just meditate your problems away? Do you believe you are better than normal people?
ME: I didn’t come here to be insulted.
PAGLIACCI (ripping his wig off): See, if you’d transcended your ego, you wouldn’t care. Haha! [Honks his nose.] Anyway, I think that’s enough for now, young padawan. Go forth! Go work on your BLDs!
ME: BLDs?
PAGLIACCI: Basic Life Determinants or whatever.
ME: I thought you said PDIs, Positive Daily Influences.
PAGLIACCI: Did I say that? Ha! I’m making all this up as I go along! [He takes off his clown nose.] But really, know what made me happy? Building a mutual aid collective for my fellow broke clowns. Now we workshop each other’s acts and cat-sit each other’s cats when someone goes on a roadshow. It’s how I met my girlfriend, Wackly Wilma. [He points to a framed photo of a voluptuous woman wearing a red nose and tutu riding a mechanical bull.]
ME: She looks nice.
PAGLIACCI: No, she’s a real hag. But I love her.
ME: Ugh.
PAGLIACCI: What’s a’matter?
ME: I’m too depressed to redesign my life with Positive Daily Influences right now.
PAGLIACCI: Right, of course. OK, take out your phone. Open your messages app. Type in the names of three people who care about you, the wiser the better. Good, now text them this: “I need a lifestyle makeover. Could any of you help me with that?”
ME (unhappily): Sent.
PAGLIACCI: Look, I know you’re seeking some sort of spiritual solution. But all this “inner work” you’re doing? It’s a goddamn addiction. You’ve gotten addicted to feelings of emotional purging and cosmic insight. It’s mystical escapism. And that eye-gaze thing you’re doing right now? It’s not authentic. You just look fucking weird.
And with that, Pagliacci charged me $69.99 for the coaching session – “Don’t be poor by choice” – and sent me off to improve my life in normal ways.
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Spirituality is good: land the spaceship
So get this: I followed the Pagliacci Method™ by brainstorm’ a list of PDIs™ and then seekin’ them out. And more: I transformed or got ridda NDIs™, or Negative Daily Influences, quittin’ my job for one with less mishegas, and repairin’ my relationship with my folks. (Even though they said that I’m talkin’ kinda weird all a sudden. I was like, whadda ya mean???). I even moved to Brooklyn to join a troupe of clowns.
And three months later, after all this chutzpah I that put into the basics of life? That old depression went bye bye.
But here’s the twist: So I’m ridin’ the F-train one day. It’s just about to cross the bridge into Manhattan. I’m looking at the skyline in the distance, and there’s the gleam of the east river beneath, and I’m thinking, NYC baby! And then this guy burst into the subway car, dressed as some sort of pretend doctor. He gets everyone clapping and cheering.
You know who it is? It’s the great clown Pagliacci. And he turns to me, points at my red nose, and just starts laughing his ass off. Here’s how it all went down:
ME: Ay, Pags! The hell are you laughing at?
PAGLIACCI: [Pauses as if he can’t believe his ears. Then cracks up, shaking his head.]
ME: Fine, I’ll play your game. Aright, doc! I’m ready for my check up!
PAGLIACCI: [Puts a fake stethoscope to my heart and listens.]
ME (nervous): What is it?
PAGLIACCI: [Looks at me questioningly.]
ME: Oh. I’m happy now. But…
PAGLIACCI: [Cocks his head to the side.]
ME: Well… Is that all there is to life?
PAGLIACCI: [Shakes his head slowly while smiling as if he has a great secret.]
ME: So what should I do now?
PAGLIACCI: [Fishes through his doctor’s coat. Hands me a long piece of receipt paper.]
It’s a list with the header “Stuff to Try” that includes:
- Practices:
– Meditation
– Ecstatic dance
– Mantras
– Chakra stuff
– Tarot cards (you can make your own)
– Authentic relating games
– “Energy” stuff
– Bodywork
– Breathwork (just don’t overdo it, buddy)
– Shadow-work
– Prayer
– Imaginal stuff
– Communing w/animals (especially goats)
- Traditions
– Christian mysticism
– Shaiva tantra
– Daoism
– Sufism
– Buddhist junk (I like Vajrayana Buddhism, the so-called “thunderbolt vehicle”; just don’t get all fuckin precious about it)
– Pochinko clowning (if you get precious about this, I will literally kill you)
ME (reading): What?!
PAGLIACCI: [Nods solemnly while pointing to the warning next to Pochinko clowning.]
ME: No, I mean, I thought you hated spiritual things!
PAGLIACCI: [Nods enthusiastically.]
ME (pointing at the sheet of receipt paper): Ecstatic dance is on here.
PAGLIACCI: [Nods.]
ME (baffled): Three months ago you recited a poem satirizing these same things that you’re now recommending.
PAGLIACCI: [Shrugs.]
ME (shaking the receipt paper): Isn’t this all spirituality?
PAGLIACCI: [Massages his temples as if he has a headache.]
ME: You’re gonna make me do all the work this time aren’t you.
PAGLIACCI: [Burps.]
ME: Fine. So here’s what I think you’d say. You could call all this stuff “spirituality,” but “spirituality“ is a loaded label, ain’t it?
PAGLIACCI: [Blinks.]
ME: This “spirituality” thing that people talk about…it makes people get on a spaceship and leave the earth behind. You start believing in all this otherworldly stuff as, like, a whole package – astral projection, ancestor spirits, astrology, auras.
PAGLIACCI: [Sucks on his bottom lip.]
ME: And you’re not supposed to question how any of these cosmic things interact with the things back here on earth. Like, excuse me, guru, but how do blue auras interact with photons? And these electromagnetic heart fields you’re talkin about…can you block them with a Faraday cage? How come spiritual people aren’t curious about stuff like that? Us clowns are deeply suspicious of people who ain’t curious. Right?
PAGLIACCI: [Claps.]
ME: And then, if you’re spiritual, you say crap like “all is one” while believing that a whole package of other random earthly crap is definitively *not* spiritual: hockey, cities, computers, reality TV, tater tots, toilet paper. What the fuck is more spiritual about auras than toilet paper? As my poet friend says, the way you wipe your ass is the way you live.
PAGLIACCI: [Claps more vigorously.]
ME: “Spirituality?” It’s a label that comes with a whole ideology. One which divides reality into special transcendent things and corrupt material things. It’s in the goddamn name! A “spirit” is something that’s immaterial, separate from the mess we all live in. And spiritual people? They want to escape the mess on their spaceship. That’s a very offensive attitude to us clowns.
PAGLIACCI: [Claps while jumping up and down.]
ME: Us clowns, we love the mess. The mess is sacred. It’s where all the best gags are. That’s why we like to break the fourth wall, because the stage is too uncluttered. Clown spirituality, if you wanna call it that, is about finding presence, connection, and mystery in everything – in the mess. Not just in cosmic crap like fancy altars and “sacred geometry.” You find it also in coffee stains and hypochondria. It’s an attitude, not a category. Presence, connection, and mystery: PCM.
PAGLIACCI: [Claps wildly, frantically.]
ME: Hey – you’re not just clapping at whatever I say are you?
PAGLIACCI: [Kisses my cheek.]
ME: What the––? Anyways, so one might ask: What’s the relationship between PCM and PDIs, or Positive Daily Influences? And I’d tell them: Look at my life. Once I was depressed. But thanks to the great clown Pagliacci, I got my PDIs going. Now let’s say you followed the same path, you’re basically good now, right? You’re pretty much set. You don’t need spiritual aesthetics to ornament your ego anymore. You don’t need a mystical spaceship to escape the earth, or supernatural experiences to plug an empty hole. Cuz your life is already working for you. Now, guess what? You can mess around with these practices in the posture of relating fully with life instead of in the posture of bullshit.
PAGLIACCI: [Shoots a tiny squirt gun sending a stream of orange liquid into the air and catches it in his mouth.]
ME: Huh. Anyway, so one might ask me: What does that look like? To relate without the posture of bullshit? And I’d say: Picture some well-adjusted guy, well-rounded life. He also just happens to collect vintage toothpaste tubes. It’s, like, his niche passion. This guy, he doesn’t need a whole toothpaste-themed persona. He doesn’t need a toothpaste festival circuit and outfit collection. He doesn’t need to change his name from Steve to Toothpaste Rising. Because it’s not about *something else.* It’s not about picking up chicks or being “enough” or escaping into a different world or becoming better than everyone else. It’s total appreciation. Total presence with the serif font of an 1924 tube of Colgate. Now imagine applying that to everything in life. That’s what these practices and traditions can be for, the ones on the little paper you handed me. Am I onto something?
PAGLIACCI: [Blinks one eye and then the other.]
ME: I think I get it now. I see what you’re trying to tell me. You actually think spirituality is *good.* You’re just criticizing its abuse. So how do you do spirituality without abuse?
PAGLIACCI: [Gestures an open hand as if to say, “You tell me.”]
ME: OK, well here’s what I’d say. You can still get on the spaceship. Ride it around the cosmos – discover the depths of intuition, talk to “entities” in the imaginal planes, learn the secrets of the body – all of that. Just don’t go so far out that you leave the rest of us behind forever. At the end of the day, bub, you gotta bring it back down to earth. Bring it home.
PAGLIACCI (taking out a pen): [Writes down ”Land the spaceship” and underlines it. Then seems to ponder the phrase.]
ME: Right, that’s what I’m wondering too. How do you know when you’ve gone too far out? On the spaceship.
PAGLIACCI: [Turns his hand into an imaginary spaceship and moves it around, making rocket sounds.]
ME: Here’s what I think. Bottom line: you could be getting more and more connected to the things of everyday life: taking out the garbage, talking to the cashier, riding the subway, doing your taxes, even participating in the bullshit social norms that hippies hate – all these things could start to become more and more vivid.
PAGLIACCI: [Bites his thumb.]
ME: Right, sure, there might be an initial phase where one feels a bit alienated from the so-called “default world.” It might even get pretty gnarly. But say this phase lasts too long. Say you find yourself wanting to run away from your friends and family to do ceremonies all day with hot tantrikas in Bali? Then stop doing spiritual shit and return to your PDIs.
PAGLIACCI: [Writes down ”Feel less alienated from everyday life and more connected to it.”]
ME: No, buddy, “feelings” ain’t enough. You should know that, Pags. In a manner of speaking, your newly enriched feelings are all in *your* head and *your* body. Connection is a two-way street. Relationality, baby. You might start to notice how you exist beyond your body: you also live in the minds of everyone you know and they exist in yours. So it’s not just your own personal odyssey. It’s the odyssey of you and your entire relational network. So the people your life is connected with? They could also become enriched as a result of your spiritual practice.
PAGLIACCI: [Writes down ”Better relationships.”]
ME: That’s right. Your relationships could keep getting better and better. Take your family. Maybe they start to be able to depend on you more, and vice versa. You bring out the best in coworkers – your collaborations become more honest and kind. Friends, lovers, and bus drivers benefit from your presence – and in turn, you benefit more from *their* positive qualities. And don’t forget yourself! In the same way that people would increasingly enjoy being in the same room as you, *you* could enjoy being in the same room as you.
PAGLIACCI: [Furrows his brow.]
ME: I know what you’re thinking, “How does that work if there *is* no self?” Well, get this, wise guy, there is a shifting pattern that goes by your name. Shift it toward care – care for itself and the other patterns around it – aka them sentient beings that the Buddhists are always going off about. Here’s a shortcut: Are you becoming even more the sort of person that people would trust around their kids? If not, it’s time to bring the spaceship home. But look, this is all, like, my opinion man.
PAGLIACCI: You missed something.
ME: Woah! Hey! So you’re talking now?
PAGLIACCI: Here’s the key piece of wisdom, ready?
ME: I’m ready.
PAGLIACCI: OK, listen carefully: [He sits on a whoopee cushion.]
ME: Uh. Is that, like…a riddle?
PAGLIACCI: I dunno. Do you feel enlightened now?
ME: No.
PAGLIACCI: Then I guess it was just a fart noise.
ME: Well thanks anyway for this surprise encounter, Pags. I feel ready to board the spaceship.
PAGLIACCI: Woah woah woah. Hold on. “Board the spaceship?” What kind of attitude is that? But I can see you’re gonna throw yourself into the deep end. Please keep in mind the deeper reaches of this shit can get pretty risky.
ME: Oh yeah, how’s that?
PAGLIACCI: A lot of the things on my little list can drive you coo-coo bananas and even disregulate your nervous system. I’ve seen people end up with chronic health issues, especially with that kundalini shit. No one ever warns you suckers about that.
ME (gulping): So how do I practice the stuff on your list responsibly?
PAGLIACCI: What do you think?
ME: Maybe I can, like, find an experienced teacher or group.
PAGLIACCI: Sounds good, champ. Personally, I never found a teacher or group that fit with my irreverent personality. So I just formed Clown Sangha, or Clongha.
ME: Can I join?
PAGLIACCI: No, chief, Clongha is *our* thing. Get together with a friend and make your own thing. In fact, you should taking that piece of advice more generally. [He taps my red nose playfully.] Alright, get out there! May you awaken for the benefit of all sentient beings and all that shit!
ME: Thank you, great clown Pagliacci!
PAGLIACCI: You did all the hard work yourself kid.
ME: Really?
PAGLIACCI: Yeah. But that’ll still be $69.99.
——THE END——
PAGLIACCI: Hey! No, not the end. Hm, how do I break out of this dialogue format?
“Pagliacci here. How’s this? Agh, dammit, I’m still in quotes.”
OK, there we go. This is *my* little essay now. Alterman, with this “manifesto” bullshit? He’s trying to turn me into some kinda goddamn guru! As if a guy like me can tell you how to do your own frickin’ “spirituality.” What a load of crap! I’m tired of that schmuck puttin’ words in my mouth.
If you’re reading this a hundred years from now and they’re burning incense to Clown Spirituality and spreading the good word of Paglianity? Do me a favor and light a stick of dynamite and blow all that stuff up. If you’re really following your own deep sense of presence, connection, and whatever Alterman said, then its expression is gonna end up lookin’ radically unique. Not like what Bob, Harry, and Pagliacci are also doing. But, look, on that basis of that pure expression of radical uniqueness? All you folks can still break bread, shoot the shit, and glorify god or whatever the fuck.
Oh, PS, say you really do want to go deep into this spirituality mishegas? Alterman wrote this other little dialogue on some stuff that he finds helpful for that. You might like it. Even though it’s another thing where he stuck a bunch of goddamn words in my mouth.
But hey, what do I know, I’m just a fictional clown speakin’ in a fake Brooklyn accent. Aright, I need a nap. Pagliacci out!
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Amour Fou 