My latest essay at the World Faith Blog
 Nearly a decade ago, I had the fortune of  reading American Holocaust by David Stannard, which detailed the  horrific conquest of Native American culture behind the “founding”  of America. I found the very framework of my own cultural understanding  thrown asunder. I realized that the “American Dream” had been largely  birthed from a nightmare of unimaginable proportions.
I felt like I had been lied to, that the  real fabric behind all the myths and legends of America was something  else entirely that what I had absorbed as a open-minded youth in school.  I now wanted to know what the truth really was, what truth really  meant, and how to grasp a truth whose meaning would not be elusive or  steeped in hypocrisy.
My own search for truth took me through  many experiences and personal experiments into social justice and  progressive philosophy into the realm of the spiritual, where I now live  as a monk of the Hindu tradition in New York City. Yet I feel my  journey is far from complete, as the bridge between the spiritual and  activist spaces within my mind, heart, and soul feels unwalked to me. I  want to know how I, as a monk, as a truth-seeker, with an open heart,  can help to effect the kind of change we need in this world which is not  ephemeral, which is linked to the eternal.
This disconnect came to the fore for me  as I observed the march forward of the Occupy Wall Street movement over  the past few months, its nucleus at Zuccotti Park just a short walk  from my own monastery. I felt both a great inspiration for the courage  and clamor of the huddled masses defying the fortress of inequality, yet  I also felt a distance, a certain aloofness. I couldn’t connect, or  find a deep personal motivation to become involved, to put my own  body on the line.
As a monk, committed as much as I am to  the inner spiritual journey, to the revolution of the heart, the realm  of the politic feels incomplete without the consideration of the big  picture. I am having a hard enough time occupying myself, knowing that  unless I rend asunder my own greed, how can I make any impact taking on  the forces of avarice that dominate our world? As great as the carnival  spirit of OWS was and is, I desire a deeper connection, a clear  bridge between our determination and our divinity.
A recent piece by Dylan Ratigan at the  Huffington Post, titled “This Thanksgiving, Occupy Yourself”, helped to  crystallize some of my own feelings and hopes with our grand new  social justice movement. Dylan boldly challenges our own conception of  the “villain” in the struggle that we face, asking us to look within the  precepts of our own heart and being.
He writes:
I would point to the concept of the  villain itself as the villain. For a villain, “the other”, lets us avoid  dealing with the dark part that resides in each of us.
We all have dark thoughts — individually  and as a nation. Fear, lust, anger, jealousy, deceit drive much of our  decision-making. Yet, these are parts of ourselves we run away from.  As a society, we have crafted a culture and set of institutional  arrangements to deny this part of ourselves. This is why it has taken so  long to even admit we have a problem of wealth inequality. It’s the  denial of the dark part of ourselves.
But diabolical energy is part of human  spirit, because we are dualistic beings. You cannot know honesty without  knowing deceit, good cannot exist without evil, and life is not life  without death. Our challenge is to reconcile all of these forces as they  all exist in each of us. Any institutional arrangement that denies  this, that relies on images of perfection bereft of the shadow, will  inevitably be dominated by the very forces of that darkness. Namely fear  of the shadow, ironically.
He quotes from Deepak Chopra’s The Shadow Effect:
We have been conditioned to fear the  shadow side of life and the shadow side of ourselves. When we catch  ourselves thinking a dark thought or acting out in a behavior that we  feel is unacceptable, we run, just like a groundhog, back into our hole  and hide, hoping, praying, it will disappear before we venture out  again.
Why do we do this? Because we are  afraid that no matter how hard we try, we will never be able to escape  from this part of ourselves. And although ignoring or repressing our  dark side is the norm, the sobering truth is that running from the  shadow only intensifies its power.  Denying it only leads to more pain,  suffering, regret, and resignation. the shadow will charge, and instead  of us being able to have control over it, the shadow winds up having  control over us, triggering the shadow effect.
This is a deep, deep spiritual  meditation, a call to face the injustice we cause to our own heart, to  our own self. It echoes the tradition of the Bhagavad-Gita, which tells  us that the only real enemy we face is the vicissitudes of our own mind,  and which call for us to find a
radical and progressive forgiveness towards those we hope can change for the better in their thought and action.
It is my fervent hope that by occupying  the secret yet potentially sacred spaces in my own heart and mind, with  the courage supplied to me by the great souls around me in my monastery  and beyond, that I will be able to make a humble contribution to the OWS movement and to all the peoples struggling and striving to fulfill our common destiny as a human family.
If we want to give divine solace to the  pain so many people are feeling, not being allowed their inviolable  right to the pursuit of happiness, we must learn to face the pain within  us, and learn to speak the language of forgiveness and transcendence.
Chris Fici is a  writer/teacher/monk of the bhakti-yoga tradition. He has been practicing  at the Bhaktivedanta Ashram in New York City since 2009. After  receiving a degree in film/video studies at the University of Michigan,  Chris began his exploration and study of the bhakti tradition. He  currently teaches classes on the culture and art of vegetarian cooking,  as well as the living philosophy of the Bhagavad-Gita, at New York  University.