Spiritual breadcrumbs.

One often finds themselves in the paradox of spiritual unrest when they disconnect from their religious heritage, and that is what exactly happened to me. Swirling with the sense of sweet release from what had been suffocating me were intense feelings of spiritual “wobbliness” surrounding my self-worth, sense of belonging and my path forward.

Guided by an inner knowing that assured me I was exactly where I needed to be, I embraced this mysterious space as the portal to the next phase of my life’s journey. My rigid beliefs that dictated what I believed, how I should worship, and who I was through the lens of that belief system began to soften.

This former church lady soon found herself on a park bench, sipping her green tea latte and wondering when she had forgotten to sit—and just be. My spirituality had become all that I did for the church instead of all that I already was by simply existing. I had not seen how much of myself I had lost as the church demanded more of my time. I believed that my acquiescence was connected to my salvation.

Gripping that green tea latte and comforted by its warmth, I contemplated the rituals that had sustained me when I was in church. I felt as disconnected to them as I felt to the church lady life I had just left. As I considered the ways I had previously prayed, journaled, studied the Bible—they all felt foreign to me. Who was I praying to? What would I write? What did the Bible mean outside the construct of my faith?

Those and countless other questions kept rolling around my mind. As time passed, no answers came, but the questions shifted from who I was inside religion to who I was as a human being.

Who am I?

Where am I going?

Where do I belong?

What is my purpose?

How do you describe the shift from desperation for Divine connection to the realization that the Divine was always there? How do the big life questions become woven into a beautiful tapestry strong enough to sustain and carry you forward to search for answers? How do you define the peace that arrives when you know that sitting on a park bench, sipping your latte is an act of worship that is just as meaningful as any ritual you ever performed while in church?

How do you release who you once were and embrace who you are becoming?

It would be years before some of those questions were answered. I have also learned that many of these questions are not meant to be answered with permanence. If we’re living, we are changing and evolving, forever ebbing and flowing in a mysterious and sacred dance with the Divine.

What is the Divine?

Your name for this may be God.

I call it Holy, and on that day, sitting on that park bench, I realized that this Holy-ness was never meant to be understood but experienced through our humanity—how we love, who we help and what we do to leave the world a better place than we found it.

When we’re doing it right, our entire life is a prayer.

A beautiful prayer, indeed.

Blessed be.