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After about 15 years of spiritual seeking, learning, trying, failing, realizing the illusion of it all, remembering it's not possible to "try" to do anything and testing the waters of several beautiful paths I've come to the conclusion that there literally is no name that encompasses or describes my spiritual path. For a while I'd say I was a Taoist, a Pagan, a Witch, a Yogi...I've given myself all kinds of labels and loved it. There's something oddly comforting about finding just the right word or pithy paragraph to describe oneselfe, although I'm not exactly sure why that is.
But recently when someone asked what my spiritual path was, or more precisely they asked specifically if I was a Pagan, I found myself stuck and silent, like a DVD with a glitch. It was the first time someone had asked me that where I found myself feeling like I couldn't honestly say and as I searched my mind and heart for what word I could replace it with, nothing came. Nothing.
This wasn't for lack of passion or spiritual presence in my life- quite the contrary. I've never felt more spiritually connected, alive and fulfilled. But over time and with endlessly extraordinary experiences (or maybe they're not extraordinary at all since I'm sure they happen to so many of us, and if it's happening to one isn't it happening to all?) there are so many layers and textures and colors that comprise the beautiful picture of my spiritual journey on this earth, I don't believe there is a way to describe it. How do you take a sense of your personal truth, which is constantly evolving, peeling away layer upon layer to remember more and more of where we come from and frame it with language?
And as this interesting epiphany of sorts has revealed itself to me, I pause to wonder how many are finding themselves in this same liberating and exciting place of indescribability....if that's even a word?
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Posted by marathongal on 2008-06-13 12:33:19 | Rating: | Views: 39
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