Speaking of the spiritual life … oh, we weren’t? Well, we are now. I’ve decided to approach my physical and emotional clutter as an opportunity for healing, and that says faith to me. It seems absurd to refer to “the spiritual life,” since I believe that all of life is spiritual, whether or not we know it. As French Jesuit and scientist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”
Many of us, particularly in western cultures, have allowed ourselves to be cut off and distracted from spiritual reality and also from nature where the spiritual realm can be accessed so readily. Most of the time, we use only 13% of our brains – the neocortex, or new brain – which has two functions: language and reason. The 87% that is “old brain” is the home of uninterpreted and unfiltered senses and emotions. It’s our inner self, our core being. It’s where kids live before their new brain has developed. That’s why they are much more in tune with raw feelings and will respond to nature so intuitively. They are just – themselves. Their spiritual selves.
I was a kid when I began my spiritual journey (that’s my 13% putting context and words to it), maybe 10 or 11 years old. Like so many people, my most profound and vivid experiences of the holy, the sacred, the spiritual – whatever you care to call it – have taken place in the natural world. I was in the woods behind my family’s country home in New Hampshire, surrounded by a green cathedral. I sat on a mossy boulder amidst delicate ferns and craned my neck to see the tops of immense pine trees and ancient oaks. And I just knew, with a simple awareness, that I was not alone. There was a spirit with me, which had always been with me, and that spirit knew me. It was inside of me and outside of me. I discovered this relational spirit I call God without any help from anyone. I had no religious upbringing, and I hadn’t gone in search of anything. God found me, and I recognized that spirit as Love.
This spirit never left me, but I basically ignored it for most of my twenties and thirties. I spoke to God from time to time and sometimes dipped into “spiritual books” like Kahil Gibran, but for the most part, I was forming my identity, becoming Ego, and I didn’t have time for spirituality. I thought I was happy – I had found my calling as an environmental lobbyist in D.C., and I was making a difference with my life. But I think now that I was just extraordinarily busy. My life was full, and I felt important as I rushed from press conference to fundraiser to congressional hearing and then collapsed each evening in a Capitol Hill pub with other very important and very busy friends. After more than a decade of this, I was pretty drained. I realize now that I had capped the wellspring of my spirit; I was getting no true refreshment, just mostly adrenaline and draft beer.
Then one day, I was trapped in one of those insufferable time management seminars that even crunchy granola activists in D.C. must endure. The smartly dressed consultant was doing the pie-chart thing, and we had been given colorful plastic pieces.
“Let’s consider the different aspects of our lives and see how the balance looks,” she said. “Now take your colored pie slices – career, recreation, relationships.”
Check, check, check.
Hmmm. What do I do with that piece? I hadn’t noticed anything was missing from my life pie. I never slowed down enough to notice the gnawing discontent inside me.
Long story short(er) – I wasn’t happy with who I was becoming. (Who do you work for? What can you do for me?) After spending some time listening to my 87% brain (otherwise known as gut), I realized what I wanted, desperately, was peace. So I set out to find my spirituality.
Twenty something years later, I’ve found it, for the most part. I am largely at peace, though I don’t imagine my serenity will ever be complete in this earthly life. My personal journey has led me to Jesus – I know, gack! Run away! No, I’m not the TV evangelist, gay-bashing, you’ll-die-if-you-don’t-agree-with-me kind of Jesus person. I suppose I consider myself religious, having learned that religion is a lovely word that simply means to re-connect. What’s not to like? Sadly, religion of the organized variety has often proved a hindrance to a thriving spirituality!
The main thing I’ve learned is that I’m a mess, and so is everyone else. I am utterly broken and need mending in a big way. Unless we recognize and even embrace this humbling truth of the human condition, how can we develop compassion and empathy and have balanced, honest relationships? We would spend all our time pretending we’re perfect. I sure spent a lot of time in that pursuit, defending and rationalizing and being right. I believe that it’s only through spiritual pursuits that we can recognize and heal our brokenness. Self-help books and workshops, talk therapy, medication and even good old-fashioned self-control all make their contributions, and I’ve used them all. But for real, deep, transformative healing, we need to work at a spiritual level.
So that’s where I’m coming from. I’m serious about my spirituality because I don’t want to live on the surface. I want to live down deep in the 87% where things are real. REAL can be a painful place sometimes, but my most profound healing and growth has come through what most people would call pretty shitty circumstances. It’s the discomfort and pain that challenge us to scale heights for a bigger perspective, God’s perspective, and to grow more into the likeness of that loving spirit I first met in the woods in New England.
On my page, “The Spiritual Life,” I’ll be exploring and sharing some of the spiritual practices and people and books that have helped me heal and find peace. I hope you find them helpful on your own spiritual journey. I would love to hear your stories, too. Blessings!