BREAKING UP WITH MY SPIRITUAL PRACTICES (but not really)

So yesterday, I heard myself telling a trusted spiritual companion how much I love rhythms and rituals. I’m sure in part because I didn’t get a lot of it growing up. Just imagine this little mystical soul being raised in the Southern Baptist denomination of the Christian Institutional Church. Mystery and ritual were generally not on the agenda. While what I received from the Baptist church wasn’t all bad (sadly, most of it was = hellfire/racism/fear/ and more) I did actually find “ a friend in Jesus” for real, and the little girl who “met Jesus” was in dire need of a trustworthy friend, for sure. So hat’s off for the introduction!

Throughout my adult spiritual journey and the evolution of the ways I spend time with God- as- I -understand- God, I have come to love ritual and spiritual practices. I know that many of my raised-Catholic friends who mostly got ritual and no real personal introduction to Jesus are not nearly as enamored with it, but for those of us starved for it, starved for unknowing as much as knowing, we receive nurturance and nourishment from steady contemplative practices.

If you’ve been here from the start, you know that most of the time my daily practices are my lifeblood. They nourish and sustain me. They keep me in touch with the Love within and without. They help me remember who I want to be in the world, you know?

But this writing isn’t an explanation of my spiritual practices or an announcement that I have given up on them. Today’s writing is more to do with those times when we temporarily break up with our steady practices. Like I did last week.

Sometimes it happens that I just shut it all down. It isn’t planned. In fact, it usually takes me by surprise. I haven’t quite figured out why I do this but it happens now and again, and I realize I’ve gone a week without doing what I usually do. I stay in my cozy bed instead of paddling downstairs to my quiet space to light my candle, do my Morning Pages, contemplative study, Centering Prayer, and journaling, I pause reading spiritual devotionals, sacred poetry, or studying for say, um, The Living School. I just shut it all down.

Nothing particularly difficult is happening at home. There are no personal crises or major upsets. No family dramas. No discernable reasons why I would just suddenly stop.

I just stop. Or better said, hit the pause button.

After a day or two, I start to notice that I have moved beyond “ I missed a day” to “ I’m not really doing this right now. “

In earlier years, this would have brought panic and questions such as these:

• Will I lose my momentum? (As if one needs momentum for spiritual practice? What?)

• Will I stop doing spiritual practices altogether and turn into some sort of goblin? (Lack of self-trust and bad girl conditioning arises!)

• Am I dropping the ball? Am I becoming a slacker? ( If we aren’t “productive” on the spiritual path, then what? Welcome to Protestantism Meets Capitalism class.)

Thankfully, I don’t feel that way anymore.

Remember, these practices are not things I am doing because “ I am supposed to do them” they are things that I love to do and that nourish me. So why would I stop, you ask?

Honest answer? I don’t know. Really, I don’t.

But I can say this.

When these pause sessions come, I generally discover later that something important was bubbling just under the surface of my awareness. Some shift was readying itself to occur and I needed to jiggle up my steady pattern, even a steady pattern of spiritual practice.

And maybe I just really, really wanted to watch some extra episodes of a cute Korean Drama because it makes me feel happy and hopeful, or maybe I wanted to spend more time walking in the fall foliage, golden orange leaves crunching underfoot.

Perhaps I needed to simply be for a while after closing out a 4-month spiritual writing program I led.

Maybe it is all of it.

What if recognizing and giving myself what I needed at the moment was the kind of self-love and nourishment my spirit was calling for?

What if it’s all spiritual? ( You already know that’s the answer, right?)

Spirituality is not just a part of our life, it’s the whole of it. It’s the whole shebang.

I know I will eventually begin to miss my contemplative practices and it won’t be long before I find myself back in those steady rhythms again.

For now, I am noticing that the moon is shining through the window of my bedroom, my cup of coffee is a warm comfort in my hands, and the pillows on my bed support me and hold me close as I type this note to you. It is more than enough.

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3 THINGS WORTH SHARING:

1. The long-awaited diaries of Alan Rickman and this stellar memorial speech from Emma Thompson, his dear friend.

2. RIP Actor Robbie Coltrane, beloved Hagrid in the Harry Potter films.

3. Life lessons from a 90 year old woman

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This was in my inbox this morning from Seth Godin:

Your autobiography

Even the longest biography is only 66 hours on audio. This means that the author has to leave out almost everything.

We write our own autobiography each day by deciding what to focus on, what to rehash, and what to worry about.

The same life story can be told in many ways, and the way we tell it changes who we are and who we become.

Who is editing your version?

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What are you doing that is making you feel happy and connected, lighter and joyous? It may come to you in unexpected packaging.

Thanks for being here! Go have some fun, will ya?

xoxo Mary