God made so many different kinds of people.
Why would he allow only one way to serve him?
~Martin Buber
According to the Merriam Webster dictionary spirituality is something that in
ecclesiastical law belongs to the church or to a cleric as such, sensitivity
or attachment to religious values, or the quality or state of being spiritual.
While I agree that this is the most commonly accepted concept of spirituality,
it is not how I define it. In my life spirituality has meant something personal
and private, something you must reckon with your soul. A priest does not give
spirituality to me; I am not made a good person by walking into a building every
other Sunday. I believe true spirituality is something you attain by overcoming
personal trials.
Let me begin by saying that my religion is not
a well-known religion. I am not Christian, Jewish or Muslim, but we will get
to my beliefs later. Suffice it to say that I was raised Presbyterian, though
not a staunch believer: we attended at least once a month and on holidays. After
a harsh falling-out with the pastor my family left the church, but it didn't
matter much to me…I never felt that that was where God lived anyway.
By 22 I was happy. I had a great house, wonderful
daughter, a loving husband and we were thinking about having more children;
what more could I want? But then my world fell apart. He was not a loving husband,
he was cheating and I tried hard to believe it wasn’t true. I listened
to his lies and deception, told myself there was no way there was something
going on. Then, once I started to understand the truth, he played another trick:
that I could still have him, my family would stay together if we two became
we three. The silvery tongue worked it’s lies, played all the right cards
and convinced my breaking heart that it could work.
That is when I stopped. I stopped hearing my
own voice and heard his lies instead. I remember waking up one day and on my
arm were two deep, wide scratches. I had no idea where they came from and no
clue as to why I didn’t care. I flipped over the pillow to hide the bloodstains
and went on with my day. I talked, I laughed, I smiled and never noticed what
was happening. Every day I had a new mark, most on my arms, but a few on my
legs.
During this time, religion came back to me. In my darkest moments a calming
voice or rather the hint of a peaceful whisper came over me and I was comforted.
It has been almost five years since I came out into the light and left that
sadness behind. Five long years that brought me to the place I am now. I have
found a strength in me I never thought I had, I know what I can go through and
be ok. I lived through the death of someone I didn’t like.
My love of spirituality saw me through and now I search for the ways to define
it. I found HVPN (the Hudson Valley Pagan Network) and there I have stayed.
My friends, though now more of a family, and I are pagan, which is an earth-based
religion. Goddess is all around me, the earth itself is my sacred space and
holidays are celebrated with the solstices, equinoxes (sabbats) and full moons
(esbats).
I have come to celebrate the earth as a whole.
Goddess and God in balance with eachother. I have no vengeful God watching my
every move, waiting for the day I die to smite me for a past sin. I am loved,
completely. In turn, I pass that love on to others around me. I organize our
group to adopt a family suring the holiday season, I "rally the troops"
when someone is in need, I try my hardest to be someone others can confide in
and trust. I live to give others the same sense of hope I felt when I was at
my most needy. That is what spirituality means to me.