WIE: You've said that it took twenty years of weightlifting for you to realize that what you were doing was spiritual practice. How did you come to that recognition?

PHILLIPS: Well, I was raised with absolutely no background in anything spiritual. And looking back, I can see that through my late teens and early twenties, the feeling of strength and power I got through the weightlifting kind of served that purpose. It was essential support for an evolving self that was still very tentative; it provided the confidence and courage to explore in the face of fear, to push the limits.

I did eventually check out the world of professional bodybuilding, spending about a year in Venice, California, moving and training in those circles. I can remember hanging out at a bar one night with three pro bodybuilders. One was wearing a gold medal around his neck from the world championships, and the others were talking about how they wouldn't waste their energy on sex and how much work the girl would have to do. Looking across the table, I realized I was looking at three twelve-year-olds, and I went home, packed my car, and left the next day. I still don't use the term “bodybuilder” because of its association with that subculture. It's a freaky subculture—a single line of development gone wrong.

That was a turning point for me, because I began to see the infinite weakness of ego and my dependence on it for emotional fuel and passion. I couldn't give up what it was I did every day, but I was struggling with the motivation. I knew instinctively that I had to replace the fear-based charge of the ego with a truly healthy purpose and intention. But how do you replace ego motivation with higher inspiration? That's a big question. It had to be for me—not for others, not for the ego, not to impress, but for my own internal strength of body and mind.

When I started to meditate ten years ago, I recognized that quiet space of mind as the state I had been cultivating in the gym all along. But it has only been in the last five or six years that I've really become conscious of the spiritual significance of my physical training. Six years ago, I suffered a really serious injury—I tore my tricep off and had to be rushed into surgery. That was the first time in fifteen years I'd been without my practice and I thought that maybe it would be great to just get out of the gym and be away from it. But so many other things in my life began to unravel that I was forced to reflect more deeply on what the practice meant to me. And I realized that my commitment to quieting my mind and strengthening my body and spirit through weightlifting has been the stabilizing factor in my life, the one thing that has kept my head above water, growing and evolving and seeing. Without it, I wouldn't have bought into anything else. I wouldn't have opened up to anything else.

WIE: How did your practice change through this transition? Can you describe what it's like today?

PHILLIPS: As I've grown over the years, I've brought greater intention and awareness to practices that were intuitive before. Simply put, it's mindful weight training. My workout still begins with a mental preparation ritual where I concentrate my attention and focus my intention. This includes dedicating the training to something or someone else to bring in some force. For example, right now my father is very ill, and I'll use that as a dedication. You can only push yourself so hard for your own good. But if you put it in a context of greater good for the world, or for someone else, it's a different story. You can literally double the output of the exercise.

As I warm up, I go through visualizations of universal energy pouring through my body at the gross, subtle, and causal levels. Then, during the routine, I alternate back and forth between two states of consciousness—from a highly focused intensity to a receptive or recovery state of broad awareness. I use a rhythm of engaging and disengaging fully on each set, lifting the weights in a very quiet but intensely focused state of calm, imagining beams of light running through the muscle into infinity. The energy is all single-pointed, flowing through a spot at the center of the muscle being activated. After the set is complete, I'll pull back to a recovery state of open, mindful awareness and perform ten or fifteen centering breaths. Then I'll do three intense charging breaths, establish conscious contact with the ground, and discharge the energy with an explosion of commitment as I engage back into the next set. And I always end with a short meditation.

WIE: It seems like what you keep coming back to is the state of consciousness that you discover and rediscover when you break through the boundaries of physical, emotional, psychological, and spiritual inertia—the sense that anything is possible, and the experience of release and bliss and well-being that comes with that.

PHILLIPS: Absolutely. That's the core of it. Through this practice, my understanding of the scope of human potential has transformed. It's no longer just about the size of one's biceps, but about the nearly unlimited potential of the mind, body, and spirit—the full potential of being. It goes way beyond the physical self—this is a transcendent state of recognizing Big Mind. There is a connection running through these states, a pattern of higher energy that gets ingrained and grounds you as part of a universal whole.

If people don't have an intimate relationship with physical intensity, there tends to be a pattern or a habit of withdrawing from or dissociating from the pain of it. But it's so interesting when you draw yourself into the pain. It demands sacrifice. When you draw yourself into the physical pain, you move into a joyful state. It's a powerfully inspiring feeling, to move in and really focus on it. Because if you're training a muscle, and every bit of psychic energy that you can pull and master is on that particular point, that's pleasure. It's a level of ecstasy that can't help but have a lasting impact.

So many thousands of times, I've seen “average” people awakened by a vision of something bigger than they'd ever dreamed of. For millions more in gyms across the country, this kind of total engagement of body, mind, and spirit has the power to transform—and the greatest impact is rarely in the weight room. Even when all else seems to be going against you, focused, mindful training can facilitate a deep and ever-expanding spiritual life. We've all slipped into the zone by accident at one time or another, feeling invincible, calm, and clear, as if everything is going in slow motion and we can do no wrong. But you can reach a delicious state of flow every day if you want to, and show up in life—in relationship, in business, in conversation—with a full and vibrant state of presence.