Spiritual Reconnection

Chapter 1

I grew up Baptist.

I was really into it, under the radar.

I never bought into the evangelical fire-and-brimstone stuff, but the social justice, flipping-over-rich-dudes’-tables-in-the-tabernacle stuff called to me deeply. (It still does.) 

I loved the introspection, prayer, and deep study that came along with it. (Also, Veggie Tales. IYKYK.)

More importantly, the idea of having an unconditionally loving, omnipotent parent in the sky was a literal lifesaver for me – though I didn’t realize it at the time.

Chapter 2

Toward the end of college, for reasons involving sex and politics, I did a 180 and deconverted. 

I went full we’re-all-compost-in-this-dog-eat-dog-world atheist for the next decade or so.

*Before you assume you know where this is going and get too fired up in either direction, please enjoy this intermission, to clarify that this post is actually not about religion itself, but the psychology of it.*

During the atheism period, I felt much more at home. The cynical rebel kids who volunteer at soup kitchens and read Dawkins for fun were my people.

Yet it was also an extremely dark period for me. 

Regardless of which philosophy you believe has the weight of actual truth behind it, what I didn’t realize in that transition was:

I was relocating myself into a hyper-individualist paradigm in which I was the sole author of all my successes and failures, and none of it mattered anyway. 

In other words: absolute fucking terror.

The psychological safety net, to which I’d never given much thought, was suddenly gone.

Chapter 3

Fancying myself too worldly to need the opiate of the masses (I had tattoos! And piercings! And actual schedule 1 drugs!), I soldiered on through increasingly crushing periods of despair and existential angst, until I landed in therapy.

That therapist, for whom I’ll forever harbor a professional girl crush, was outrageously intuitive and savvy. 

After months of patiently listening to my fatalistic philosophical ramblings and dropping very subtle hints, she finally said the words that would alter the course of my life forever:

“I think you’re ignoring something really big. Your spiritual connection.”

I let those words hang there, as I did a giant internal eyeroll and quickly redirected the conversation. 

But as soon as I got home that day, the floodgates of curiosity reopened. 

Those words were all it took to rekindle a huge facet of myself I’d been working hard to obliterate. But this time it was different.

I knew neither of my prior philosophies were a fit. While I respect the original tenets, the social and political values currently embraced by mainstream Christianity in America are infuriating, and believing that I was absolutely alone in a pointless universe nearly crushed me. So it was time to get creative and do some exploring for an alternative.

Chapter 4

I still had a ton of judgment and intellectual disdain for the whole “spirituality” concept, but I had to admit I was curious. So, like any self-conscious techie, I turned on Incognito mode and went searching for all kinds of weird stuff I’d heard about. Reiki, mediums, reincarnation, chakras, the Tao, crystals, the Akashic records, you name it.

I suspended disbelief and just allowed myself to follow whatever piqued my interest. 

What I found? All of it shared the notion of a loving wisdom connecting all of us to each other and to the universe.

THAT felt like an instant click. That was the core thing I’d been missing. No dogma, no condemnation, just:

• The idea that we’re not all just tiny aspiring capitalist titans competing against each other for a limited share of resources.
• The idea that there is meaning and goodness and magic in all of us.
• The idea that the arc of history is ultimately bending towards wholeness and reconciliation.
• The idea that I don’t have to have it all figured out by myself.

That last point has been probably the most important for me.

Chapter 5

Although I make my living helping people self-identify solutions to their problems, which is absolutely important, I’d be lying if I said I had the answers to some of the bigger, more painful life questions.

Nowadays, when shit really, truly hits the fan and I’ve exhausted all my impressive coping mechanisms, I always end up back in meditation, surrendering whatever my challenge is to that bigger loving wisdom, and asking for help and strength.

I’ll never know for sure if those prayers are going anywhere, but I’ve seen enough magic happen in my own life that I think it’s certainly possible. It’s what feels right and has gotten me through some extraordinarily difficult times.

Which I suppose, in the end, makes me a utilitarian.