28 Days To Go

For me, the spiritual journey has been elusive. As a child I vaguely remember Sunday school at the Lutheran church, felt boards with Biblical characters, and stiff red net stockings filled with candy at Christmas. Between 5th and 6th grade my family moved to Avalon, a very small town on an island off the coast of California, with a year round population of about 1500. About a third of the population was Hispanic. In the summer the island was swarming with tourists and summer residents. The big white steam ship came daily depositing loads of people at 11:30 am and carting them away at 4:00 pm.

I became enmeshed in the hispanic community and during sixth grade decided I needed to be Catholic. Even as a child, I felt something was lacking in me or my life. So I became Catholic and became part of my Godparent’s (Sam and Ofie Hernandez) extended family. I went to what was then called Catechism and loved the puzzle of following the mass in Latin. At that time, if you were Catholic you were not supposed to enter any other religion’s place of worship. So I didn’t attend services with friends or experience any other religions.

In high school I remember reading about other religion’s and belief systems. I was searching, always searching for something. I wrote a research paper comparing religions. I was looking for something. I don’t think I had any idea really of what it was or why I thought I needed it. It was a yearning that was beyond words or reason. Then I discovered the spirits of alcohol and then drugs. It quieted my discontent for a while. By the time I was 17, I had left the Catholic church behind, believing it had no answers for me. In all honesty, I believe the reason I left was that my behavior was such that I couldn’t reconcile it with the beliefs of my religion, so religion had to go.

I spent the next twenty years attending schools, hitchhiking up and down the coast, living in the Haight Ashbury, living in a VW bus (with a man, a six week old baby and three dogs,) having kids, graduating college and law school, working in my professional career, and growing more and more hopeless. My search for something meaningful had, it seemed been extinguished. I was just hurling through space on this large rock waiting for my time to be up.

Then I had what I think was my first foray into something spiritual. I stumbled into a group of people who taught me how to live without alcohol and drugs. Seemed rather rash to me at the time, but what the heck, I really didn’t think I had much left to lose at the time. Or to quote Kris Kristofferson (by way of Janis Joplin) “freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” Well, I didn’t feel like I had much left to lose, even though I had a professional career, three bedroom house with two cars in the garage, a husband and three kids. 

For about 20 years I just became loosely acquainted with the idea of a spiritual life or living a spiritual experience and learned how to live a saner life. I went back to the Catholic church thinking I might find something there. It had changed a great deal and I loved the sense of community, but my answers weren’t there. I became a Girl Scout leader and spent lots of time in nature with the troop. I did get great moments of gratitude around many a camp fire. That may have been part of the journey, but it was not the destination.

In the last nine years, I have learned so many lessons and finally feel that I have gotten solidly in touch with some power greater than myself. I can’t describe or define it, which is probably a good thing. It’s not based on any doctrine, religion or particular belief system. I call it God for ease and convenience.

I had always been a critical, judgmental, angry person. Not a lot of laughter or joy. Not a fun person to be around. If people said anything to me, it was to tell me I intimidated them. I figured they were just pussies. At some point I realized this didn’t serve me well on my spiritual quest, so I began to learn how to be a softer, gentler Nancy. In the process the anger and rage left.

 One of the most important lessons I have learned throughout this process took shape a few years ago when I realized that “hurt people, hurt people.” That is to say I looked around my world and realized the people I loved, the ones I wanted to emulate, the ones who were loving and caring and looked happy were peaceful and positive. These people were not mean, hurtful, judgmental or negative. So I concluded that people who were mean, hurtful, negative, judgmental, etc., in other words, just like me; were people who were acting out of pain and discomfort. So it occurred to me that it would be better to have compassion for their hurt or discomfort than to judge their behavior. One of my better thoughts, but putting it into action is not easy. It has been a process. but what I have experienced is that the more I do this, the happier and more content I am. It is amazing! Having compassion for others helps me. What a concept. But, it is still a work in progress. 

I don’t get told too much any more that I am intimidating and I seem to move among people with a little more ease and grace. I feel loved and loving. I have joy in my life and the glass is half full.

Tomorrow we will discuss the educational variety of a spiritual experience. a good description of the Camino.