Now that I have embarked on a
new and personal spiritual path, I do so
very much alone. By choice, I
think. Sometimes I think it would be
wonderful to have someone, or a couple of someones, with whom to share my
discoveries and my challenges. Someone
who could really understand, share my excitement when I soar…help me pick up
the pieces when I bomb.
I have friends who are pastors
in Christian churches. These women
believe “community” is a huge and integral part of a spiritual life. For them, and for many others, that may be
true. For myself? I’m not so sure. What I do and what I experience are so
personal, so “learn as you go,” that I’m not sure I could ever truly share
it. And I know for sure that I am not in
a space where I need someone to tell me, “THAT’S not the right way to go about
(whatever brand of spirituality)! Which
is why I have avoided pasting any label on the path I’ve chosen. Once labeled—“Christianity,” “Buddhism,” “Shamanism”—there
are rules, and dogma, and “you’re allowed to do THIS, but cannot do THAT.” I guess the best way to describe my
spirituality is, “You do what you need to do, and I’ll do what I need to do,
and if we can then live in harmony with each other and with all creation, then
it’s all good.”
It’s clear to me that the
Almighty has chosen to speak to me through animals—particularly birds. I feel a deep connection to them that I can’t
explain and which I know is not shared by many.
But I didn’t always understand and trust the path. Once I felt the call and began to be drawn down
this road, I expected some huge, life-changing miracle to transpire. As if I would suddenly be zapped with animal
love, and I’d wander around like Francis of Assisi, with a throng of adoring wild
creatures trailing behind me. When this
didn’t happen, like any human being (we tend to expect instant gratification…)
I began to doubt my choice. Maybe this
was all mumbo-jumbo and I had no idea what I was actually doing or being called
to do.
Recently, I’ve come to
realize that embracing this spiritual life will be a process, not an event
(duh!). When I compare myself with the me
of two or three years ago, I see the changes.
I see the slow growth of understanding and knowledge. I don’t just gaze at birds in awe and longing
any more. I feel them. I learn from
them. And I am more and more able to
understand what they want to tell me. I don’t hear any non-human creature “speak;” it’s more a matter of sensing what they wish to communicate. For beings without spoken language, this
would be the natural way for them to get a point across, wouldn’t it? The human’s job is to reach beyond what she
understands as “language” and learn to communicate in other ways. I can see this happening in my life, and it’s
exciting. But it in no way resembles
what one sees on TV or even what one is led to “expect” by teachers. It’s very personal and unique to every
individual.
This may be where organized religion
drops the ball. For obvious reasons, I’ve never been
comfortable in communities where coloring outside the lines or marching to a
slightly different beat labeled one a sinner or an enemy. There is no room for uniqueness or
individuality in an organization of folks who are all supposed to do and
believe the same things. And I
understand that trying to speak to that “individualist” element would create
chaos in a church. Which is why
organized religion works for some people.
And why it does not work for me.
I discovered this amulet at a vendor’s stall last weekend. It spoke to me. I wear it now as a reminder of who I am and the path I walk.
I discovered this amulet at a vendor’s stall last weekend. It spoke to me. I wear it now as a reminder of who I am and the path I walk.
I walk with the birds
and animals, the ocean and the forest, maybe the desert and the tundra if I am
ever lucky enough to go to those places and hear their voices. In the past few years, I’ve discovered a peace and joy and sense of belonging that I
have never experienced anywhere else. I
know it’s where I’m meant to be.