Daily Walking Ever Closer to We

I don’t often discuss spirituality, but I almost always want to. There are a lot of topics I can’t make meaningful contributions towards, and while I am not convinced I have much to add in the realm of spirituality, I am intensely drawn to it. It activates a curiosity in me that at times feels insatiable. That has not always been the case. For a better part of my life, I wasn’t all that familiar with the word. I had heard it associated with religion and due to my experience within religious communities, I patently rejected it along with the narrow-minded judgement I had come to associate with “faith communities.”  (No, the irony is not lost on me!)

It was not until I found myself within a world religion section of a library and gathering books on anything other than Christianity that I learned there was a difference between religion and spirituality. I don’t recall which book held the key passage that finally threw light on that distinction, but I immediately relaxed when I learned I did not have to follow rules, practice rituals and separate myself from “others” in order to access something that made life feel “meaningful.”   

If someone asked me how I would describe spirituality I would say, it is a practice of inner exploration that uses our lived experiences as teaching aids for the cultivation of a deeper connection to ourselves, others, and something “greater.”  That’s my definition. I don’t know how it measures up to other definitions you have been introduced to, but it works for me, and it makes something that otherwise feels fairly inaccessible, a bit less so.

My particular definition of spirituality is hinged on and fosters a unique form of communication. One that is dependent on a deep sense of presence, a different level of listening and frankly, one that does not rely exclusively on words.

Let’s face it, communicating about spirituality is challenging for a number of reasons. One is its aforementioned association and often conflation with religion. And while some people may use religion to access their spiritual lives, spending time in nature, creative pursuits, meditation, and physical activities could all be equally valuable access points.

Another reason it is challenging to discuss spirituality is because often words can only point in a general direction of what spirituality might lead to. Often unless someone has had an experience that the words help explain, the words alone may not be entirely helpful. And as much as I hate that it feels a bit like “If you know, you know,” which has always felt exclusionary to me, it is that intersection where words about spirituality and spiritual experiences most often meet.

The other reason it is difficult to approach the topic of spirituality is because it invites us into a world filled with more mystery than certainty and most people find that space to be fraught with discomfort. In fact, I believe it is the formal organization of beliefs and rituals and the structured way to discuss matters outside of this material realm that makes religion appealing to so many. But for those who have not had favorable experiences within organized religion, many of us simply meet the topic with some form of resistance, skepticism, or dismissal.

But I think there are many folks, like me, that feel there must be something “more,” but struggle to understand what others find through religion. And for years, because I could not access what felt so effortless to others, I was sure there was something wrong with me. But when I stopped seeking meaning through religion and started looking within my own lived experiences, I finally found something. I was relieved, for sure!

But when you surround yourself with other “seekers” you will find those who think they have not yet discovered their own spiritual footing, because they have not yet had some extraordinary occurrence. In fact, I recall a set of despairing looks that followed an enthusiastic recounting of a rare spiritual event in someone’s life that had me efficiently tuck my own experiences away into polite silence. I figured nobody needs a painful reminder of what they have not yet experienced. But I am starting to realize, it is not that they have not had spiritual happenings in their life. They just do not recognize them as such.

That is why I have committed to this social experiment I call YOU.logy. When we pay enough attention to others in our conversations and ask questions that help them go deeper to better understand themselves, we create the kind of connection that defines a spiritual experience.

I love conversations with people, and I care about what is going on in their lives. But I care ever more deeply about what is going on within their internal landscape in response to what is going on in their lives. You might think I am saying I love hearing about your outrage towards Uncle Bob’s recent incarceration, or your frustration with your son’s dirty socks perpetually strewn throughout the house. Rather, I am interested in the quiet voice that whispers to you when your mind is busy protesting the current catastrophe du jour.

Most of us walk around barraged by a committee of loud and conflicted voices competing for our attention. I’m not talking about the voices of our coworkers, family members, and social media personalities. No, those just add to the mix.  I am talking about the myriad of voices we hear in our own minds that hold opinions about everything we encounter, and who seem fixated on getting the most out of life with the least amount of risk or discomfort. Despite their intention, it is those voices that keep us perpetually suffering. But among them, is an “channel of expression” I call the soothe-sayer because everything it “says” is quietly trying to soothe the anxious nervous system the other voices have created and guide us in a different direction.

My soothe-sayer is sparse on words and her methods are often subtle, but they always have impact. I know when I have heard her “speak.”  I haven’t always, though. And in truth, I still don’t always follow her guidance, but I am comforted to know she is there and that she seems to always want the best for me.

Becoming aware of my soothe-sayer still feels like a relatively new development, even though it likely happened close to fifteen years ago. Like most of humanity, my greatest attention is often directed at the unrelenting thought machine that endlessly churns out unreliable information that I mistake to be true despite its frequently incongruent messages.

I’m not exactly sure when I first became aware of my soothe-sayer, but I suspect my meditation practice slowly led me to her. To be more precise, it was the first guided body scan I experienced in a community education class that somehow set things into motion for our reunion. In that early experience with what they were calling meditation; I could not understand the importance of “feeling my left big toe.” “To feel into my spleen” was just straight up crazy making! And I am sure my incredulous attitude originated from a complete inability to, in fact, feel my left big toe!

Disappointed but not deterred, I returned for another 5 weeks and continued to run the gauntlet of physical experiences that I seemed entirely incapable of accessing. But then one fateful day, as the meditation teacher verbally guided us through a color visualization exercise, while my eyes were closed, I saw blue when I was prompted to experience blue! When she invited an experience with yellow, my blue passed through a greenish initiation period and was suddenly yellow! I couldn’t believe my eyes! Suddenly, I was having an experience with my body that up until this meditation class I had not even realized I had become quite separated from. Now what does this have to do with the whisp of expression I call the soothe-sayer?

Well, I don’t have a tidy answer, but I will make a provocative statement instead. Everything that I now call a “spiritual experience” was a physical experience. It is my body that is the substrate and receiver of all things spiritual. When my body is defended, hypervigilant, (a feeling I call “hiked up,”) or otherwise buffered or distracted by mind activity, I cannot recognize or receive spiritual encounters. In other words, I must be present with my body and five senses in order to feel my soothe-sayer’s messages.

How do I know when I have had one? Well, if an otherwise ordinary interaction in my life catches my attention differently and it makes me feel more present and curious because of it, I have almost invariably had a heightened sense of connection. Which is what I now call a spiritual experience.

Over the next few posts, I plan to share stories with you about a host of spiritual happenings in my life. I share them with you to highlight that on the surface spiritual encounters can appear quite ordinary, but their impact feels quite outside of ordinary. And more than likely you just need examples of how your soothe-sayer expresses itself to you.

So as not to make this post exhaustingly long, I will get the ball rolling by sharing a very recent and short story. Along with my more traditional seated meditation practice, I also occasionally do a morning walking meditation. (something my husband calls “pacing”) To be fair it does look a good bit like pacing, but it is much, much slower. For me, it is a practice of feeling “fully present in/with my body.”  I have found the more time I practice this kind of physical mindfulness, the more likely I will “hear” the nudges of the soothe-sayer.

Anyway, I was “pacing” a small circle between my living room, kitchen and dining room with my eyes cast downward towards my feet. Without any visual cue at all, I sensed that there was “something” outside my window. I knew I shouldn’t break my concentration on my physical experience, but because it “felt” physical, I responded by slowly moving towards the sliding glass door in my dining room. Within seconds I noticed a barred owl sitting on the privacy fence, about ten feet from where I stood. Although I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a reflection that obscured my presence, it appeared to be staring right at me. For several long minutes, we locked eyes, and I stood in awe. There was nothing about this encounter that seemed to track with the normal behavior of this nocturnal and typically illusive creature.

What happened next felt even more captivating. Although it seemed clear to me the owl was aware of my presence, instead of flying away, it flew down onto my fire pit and situated even closer to me. Only about five feet separated us at that point and it continued to look straight in my direction. Now, we lived in the woods, at the time, and had our share of rodents in our crawl space. It is extraordinarily likely the owl was responding to the furtive movement of a rodent I had no ability to see. However, it did not appear to be visually tracking a ground dwelling creature as its eyes never cast downward, instead they remained fixed in my direction.

At some point, I realized its stare had me holding my breath and I remember wondering, “What do you want me to know?”  And before any response could be received, a murder of crows circled our patio and chased the owl off. The encounter had ended, but my heart was full, and I wanted nothing more from it. In fact, I had been moved to tears.

Now, was this encounter life changing? Earth shattering? No. But it was real, and it held an intense feeling of presence, connection, and awe. Do I desire to create meaning from the encounter? You bet! My mind wanted nothing more than to make a full-time job out of that interaction. But at my core, I was content to have been “visited” by a felt connection.

Alright, I want to hear from you all. How do you feel when people share about spiritual experiences? Be honest, do they make you uncomfortable? In what ways?