A few days ago I had the opportunity to struggle with and move through a harsh judgement made by a friend and colleague about my spiritual worthiness. In short, it was considered insufficient, lacking and too basic to be of any use.
This led me to ponder upon what is considered spiritual and the sensitive nature of anyone´s intimate quest for truth, purpose and meaning, including the greedy and fearful need to possess "the" truth of a wholly quest.
What makes a person´s journey spiritual? - in the knowing that we all are spiritual in essence-
What elements are required for a spiritual journey?
What is considered valuable and worthy in this quest - and, is there one that isn´t valuable and worthy? Is there one golden path?
It is true that my spiritual unfolding has been anything but strait forward. I´ve often said that I have accessed my greatest achievements through the back door. My search for meaning and connection has been a long winding process, full of rough patches and questioning, ignited by a deep sense of being separate and filled with doubts. It has been a passionate pursuit.
I rebelled against my family´s beliefs about God, I explored and clashed against my limited religious experience and I had the fortune of being introduced to its mystical origin. I read about spiritual practices, I meditated and used a spiritual name for more than 20 years. I danced my prayers, because, for as long as I can remember, I have felt the wonder and grace of creation in my body. I deeply love, cherish and bow to the Godliness of Nature. What has made this journey unequaled and worth every battle, every wound and hurdle, are the ecstatic times of absolute bliss found in profound connection, sense of belonging and inner knowing.
When I first heard how my spiritual life was not considered worthy, I could see myself become tight, defensive and argumentative. I immediately felt the need to explain, justify and validate my life process, it was followed by anger and a sense of unfairness. I felt my rage rise and I had to restrain the deepest desire to rip into the other person´s life and experience. The ferocity of my need to protect and defend what is sacred to me was astounding. I wanted to blame and become a judge myself, followed by a longing to be reassured and recognized. It was truly precious to follow the thread of my responses and reactions until all that is left is silence and relief.
In my experience, the relationship we have to what we consider sacred and divine is profoundly intimate and dynamic, as in any other relationship we have. Every time I think "I got it" and feel ready to settle into and become comfortable with, I realize there is more, always more to feel, sense, perceive, accept, learn and let go of. This movement pushes and incites me to face my resistance to surrender to an unknown that threatens my sense of self, shakes my foundations of what I feel is true, inviting me, pushing me to stretch out time and time again by widening my perspective of Life and its Holiness.
A beloved friend wrote me a sentence I intend to use whenever the occasion arises, it says: "I am happy to know that your opinion of me is none of my business" and I would end it by saying "and my opinion of you is mine to keep and hold until I have it no more". I hold the wish that eventually this experience will result in keeping my heart more open to experience forgiveness and accept the priceless choices and unique paths we hold as treasures in our human voyage.
I realize this is my journey, my sacred journey. I know, and must remember, that we each have our own threading to do, as mysterious as this may seem at times. All of us are an essential piece for the completion of the whole of existence. There is, in my view, no "right or wrong way" to look for sacredness and offer it to others. I firmly believe that it is only when all of us have consciously chosen to fulfill our spiritual and human destiny, embracing the uniqueness and worthiness of our paths and honoring each other´s journeys, that we will create the world we long to be a part of.
