The Tree of Contemplative Practices is a beautiful visual framework mapping out the many diverse ways people engage in spiritual practice. I was already familiar with the Tree from my time in CU Boulder’s Religious Studies department, but recently I came across this webinar and learned more about the story and spirit behind it. Maia Duerr, former director of the Center for Contemplative Mind in Society, created the tree (although in her words she says she "channeled” it).
In the webinar, Duerr defines spiritual practice as “an activity that you do on a regular basis (ideally each day) that helps you cultivate: a sense of self-awareness, joy, equanimity, resilience, compassion for yourself and others.” I loved this framing. It’s both broad and generous. It's less about enforcing a specific ritual, and more about consistently making space for presence and transformation.
She also shared a metaphor that really stuck with me. She compared our daily routines to being on autopilot. Have you ever driven a familiar route and realized you weren’t even conscious for most of it? Spiritual practice, she said, is “a way of going off autopilot.” I think this captures how I’ve come to understand practice in my own life, not as something separate from ordinary activity, but as a way of moving through it with greater presence.
Action as Practice
One part of the Tree that sticks out to me is the “activist practices” branch. It includes actions like vigils, marches, and bearing witness. It resonates with my own background and values, but I wonder if something like “service” might be an even better umbrella term here. That way it could include social justice work, yes, but also caregiving, charity, and acts of compassion in daily life.
This perspective has been shaped in part by my time living in a yoga ashram, where we practiced karma yoga. Karma yoga is a path of spiritual growth through selfless service (or seva). We cooked, cleaned, gardened, and taught, all as part of our spiritual training. The idea was that right action, when offered with intention and devotion, can be just as transformative as sitting on a cushion. The Tree reflects this in its “active” branches, and I am glad it is included.
Practice as Holding Space
Another part of the webinar that interested me was a story Duerr told about a friend teaching contemplative practices in a prison. One participant didn’t seem to be doing the practices, he wouldn’t engage in the yoga or actually do any of the meditations. Yet, he came to every single session. The facilitator was confused at first, until he realized: the inmate really came for the hug at the end. That moment of human connection was his practice.
Duerr emphasized that what matters most isn’t the form of the practice, but the supportive space we create around it. This remindeds me that whether I’m teaching yoga, leading meditation, or sitting with someone in spiritual direction, the most important thing I offer isn’t content. It’s presence. If someone shows up, something is already happening. My job is to hold the container with care and compassion.
Showing Up, Even in Stillness
She also acknowledged something that many longtime practitioners face: the plateau. Over time, practice can start to feel rote or mechanical. Some authors in my seminary coursework have even used the words like “superstitious” or “empty ritual” to describe this kind of spiritual repetition. Personally, I find those critiques subtly biased, especially against devotional and Eastern traditions.
In my own daily meditation practice, there are definitely days that feel uninspired. But I’ve come to believe that showing up matters, even when the heart isn’t fully in it. There’s something quietly powerful about consistency. Just as a tree grows slowly, practice can take root in ordinary time.
Integrating the Tree Into My Spiritual Direction Practice
Two learnings from Deurr that I believe are of use to my role as a spiritual director include:
- Action as spiritual practice
- The importance of creating supportive spaces
I don’t think discernment and transformation only happen in stillness. They can also happen in motion. For example, in caregiving, cooking, organizing, parenting, or cleaning the kitchen. They happen in presence and care.
The Tree of Contemplative Practices is a helpful reminder that there are many paths, many expressions, and many ways to return to ourselves and to the sacred. As I support others on their spiritual path, this framework helps me honor the diversity of those paths and remember that my role is not to prescribe, but to companion.
Curious how spiritual direction might help you explore the Tree of Contemplative Practices in your own life? Let’s connect and discover new ways to deepen your practice. Book a free intro call today!