The Fortress & The Well - Thinking Out of Bounds

How exploring global wisdom traditions strengthens us all

Linda Clark-Borre

There's a common fear, especially in matters of faith, that studying another's path risks losing your own. That engaging with a different wisdom tradition is a form of dilution, a dangerous wandering from the map you've inherited and accept as truth. It's a fear rooted in the understandable human impulse to protect what sustains us—to build a fortress around our beliefs, thinking it's the only way to keep them—and us—safe.

But consider a different image: not a fortress, but a deep, singular well. The faith leaders who have moved me most—the ones whose wisdom feels both timeless and urgently alive in an increasingly complex world—didn't guard their wells by building walls. They deepened them by digging new channels, allowing waters from other sources to seep in and raise the level of their own understanding. They realized that to own your own tradition truly, you sometimes need to stand in a different place to see it. Here are a few I've found especially accessible and easy to learn from: 

- Thomas Merton, known to many Catholics as Father Louis. From the shelter of his Trappist hermitage, in correspondence with D.T. Suzuki, he found in Zen a clarifying mirror for his understanding of Christianity.

 - The Dalai Lama, embodying Tibetan Buddhism with unwavering grace. He followed his genuine curiosity about neuroscience and Jesus' teachings, opening lines of communication with Western nations. His respect for other ways of viewing devotion and decency speaks of an unshakable confidence - precisely because it is so open.

- Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, who forged Jewish Renewal by bringing together the disparate, yet related streams of Hasidic fervor, Sufi whirling, and Buddhist mindfulness into a more vibrant expression of his own inheritance. 

- Howard Thurman, a Protestant pillar of the Black church tradition, whose transformative engagement with Gandhi and global mysticism didn't pull him from his roots but allowed him to articulate their universal cry for freedom and love with even greater power.

These leaders represent a remarkable constellation: each deeply rooted, yet radically open. Their lifelong engagement with other paths wasn't a sidebar to their respective faith traditions; it was integral to their evolution. They understood that studying other traditions doesn't dilute our understanding—it circumscribes it, offering new angles from which to see more than we may imagine is available to us, therefore strengthening us. It's much like understanding other languages makes us more nuanced writers in our native tongue; we become more nuanced believers. Yes, even in the face of our non-beliefs, if that's the case. The world is full of nuance, and truth is easy to miss.

We do, after all, dwell in eternally relevant questions. Why do we suffer? How do we love? What is our duty? How do we face the mystery of being? These questions bring us to the heart of the interspiritual perspective: it doesn't ask us to abandon our tradition, but to recognize the shared human quest that animates all of them. It's a convergence: owning your own soul, claiming your personal agency, while dwelling in a collective experience.