During motherhood I unexpectedly began a spiritual unfolding. It was nothing I planned for, nor sought out. In fact, you could easily argue the opposite, that it would have taken a bolt of lightning for a secular girl like me to have had a spiritual experience. Before motherhood I had already gone to an ashram in India, traveled from Mexico to the Silk Road of Uzbekistan, volunteered in service in the Peace Corps, taken myself to Kripalu Yoga and Wellness Center for retreats, spent years in a twelve-step program and attended a Unitarian Universalist Church for Sunday sermons, and in none of these experiences was I seeking a spiritual experience nor having a spiritual experience. It was not until I was 6 months pregnant with my son when I joined a church for the first time. I was 31 years-old.
My experience was not to be an Eat, Pray, Love experience where a woman shares her spiritual awakening while traveling the world. This was not to be a Devotion experience where a mother chronicles her steps towards an authentic spiritual life for her and her son. Mine was, well, rather inconvenient timing to tell you the truth. I was knee deep in scared-out-of-my-mind first-time (and unexpected!) motherhood. How the heck was I supposed to fit in a spiritual journey too?
Well, if I’ve learned anything in these last 7 years it is this: I have yet to meet a person, including myself, who was actually able to pick out the day, time and life stage to meet god. In our overly calculated, strategic and fundamentally control-freaky American society, this is just one life experience that we do not get to schedule in our iPhone.
I’ve been asked if I at least had a tug inside of me. Some sort of emptiness or void that manifested as a restlessness to be full-filled. No. I’d say, no. Probably because I had no spiritual or religious life growing up, I had no idea that anything was amiss or absent. I did not feel judgmental about my secular life. I did not feel sad, angry or fearful about my secular life. This was my normal. I had no other reality to compare or contrast it to. I was not even an agnostic or an atheist. Both of these positions suggest someone has a conviction about god and the spiritual life. I didn’t. It was just a non-issue for me.
Not that I didn’t have an introspective life or interest. I did. I certainly did. From childhood I always kept a journal and my family and friends would tell you I was often found quiet and reserved, off by myself in deep thought. I was caught in a paradox though. I could be contentedly both with myself and by myself for oddly long periods of time--kind of like one of my favorite childhood books Ferdinand the Bull. At the same time, I was incredibly lonely. As I got older, one-to-one deep conversations with complex people captivated me, and ultimately led me to my career path as a clinical social worker who practices psychotherapy.
You could argue, maybe, that these earlier introspective experiences hard-wired me or primed me for what was to come. But even if someone had fore-told it to me, I wouldn’t have believed them. I think this is because 1.) I'm stubborn and 2.) You don’t know how rigid your interior life is, even a completely secular one, until it gets torn down. It is not until you are standing there naked and exposed, when you know going back to how things used to be is not even an option, and yet you have no idea what is next that you catch on to what is unfolding. When you are brought to your knees in vulnerability—my least favorite of the human experiences—that you acknowledge your life is changing in a completely unexpected direction. Enter, god.
So that is a little piece about the origins of my spiritual awakening. How about yours? I would love to hear.
My experience was not to be an Eat, Pray, Love experience where a woman shares her spiritual awakening while traveling the world. This was not to be a Devotion experience where a mother chronicles her steps towards an authentic spiritual life for her and her son. Mine was, well, rather inconvenient timing to tell you the truth. I was knee deep in scared-out-of-my-mind first-time (and unexpected!) motherhood. How the heck was I supposed to fit in a spiritual journey too?
Well, if I’ve learned anything in these last 7 years it is this: I have yet to meet a person, including myself, who was actually able to pick out the day, time and life stage to meet god. In our overly calculated, strategic and fundamentally control-freaky American society, this is just one life experience that we do not get to schedule in our iPhone.
I’ve been asked if I at least had a tug inside of me. Some sort of emptiness or void that manifested as a restlessness to be full-filled. No. I’d say, no. Probably because I had no spiritual or religious life growing up, I had no idea that anything was amiss or absent. I did not feel judgmental about my secular life. I did not feel sad, angry or fearful about my secular life. This was my normal. I had no other reality to compare or contrast it to. I was not even an agnostic or an atheist. Both of these positions suggest someone has a conviction about god and the spiritual life. I didn’t. It was just a non-issue for me.
Not that I didn’t have an introspective life or interest. I did. I certainly did. From childhood I always kept a journal and my family and friends would tell you I was often found quiet and reserved, off by myself in deep thought. I was caught in a paradox though. I could be contentedly both with myself and by myself for oddly long periods of time--kind of like one of my favorite childhood books Ferdinand the Bull. At the same time, I was incredibly lonely. As I got older, one-to-one deep conversations with complex people captivated me, and ultimately led me to my career path as a clinical social worker who practices psychotherapy.
You could argue, maybe, that these earlier introspective experiences hard-wired me or primed me for what was to come. But even if someone had fore-told it to me, I wouldn’t have believed them. I think this is because 1.) I'm stubborn and 2.) You don’t know how rigid your interior life is, even a completely secular one, until it gets torn down. It is not until you are standing there naked and exposed, when you know going back to how things used to be is not even an option, and yet you have no idea what is next that you catch on to what is unfolding. When you are brought to your knees in vulnerability—my least favorite of the human experiences—that you acknowledge your life is changing in a completely unexpected direction. Enter, god.
So that is a little piece about the origins of my spiritual awakening. How about yours? I would love to hear.
No comments:
Post a Comment