An Open Letter to Those who are Worried About my Spiritual Health

Having left the Christian world behind me for some time now, it is surprising to receive a message or letter that reminds me of what it was like to be part of that community, and takes me back for a moment to who I used to be.

I am grateful for aspects of my upbringing. Being born into a religious household means that spirituality was embedded into me from before I could talk or walk. I have discovered the benefit of having some kind of spiritual practice; a connection to Something greater than myself. But the extremity of the religion I grew up in has caused a lot of damage. You can read more about that in my previous posts: How a Religious Cult Stole my Childhood.

You know the one; the well-meaning friend who writes to you to invite to you back onto ‘the straight and narrow’ and save you from your back-sliding ways. The wording seems kind and considerate, but it is laced with the idea that their way of relating to Life (or God) is the only High Way and that any other way of living is wrong. I can’t accept this concept any more. I believe that there are many different ways to find ‘God’. Spirituality is unique to each one of us. Some people benefit from organised religion, while others need their own personal path. Some people don’t believe in anything other than the here and now, which is their right. It’s their way of relating to the world.

Unfortunately, many Christian people feel that it is their duty to convict others (non-Christians, atheists, even members of other Christian denominations!) of their heathen ways and help them to ‘see the light.’ They feel like they are standing at the top of a ladder, reaching down to pull everyone else up onto their rung. They thing is, we aren’t all on the same ladder. We don’t need to believe like anyone else, or see things like anyone else. We only need to look inside our own hearts and find the answers.

It’s easy to delegate our search for answers to someone else. It’s easy to look at someone standing on a pulpit and decide that if we do everything they tell us and believe like they do that we will have made it spiritually. We don’t like to have to make up our own minds, or make our own decisions. We’d rather be spoon-fed.

I feel kindness towards the person I was a decade ago. I was beginning to search for answers outside of the box, although I still felt bound to Christianity. It shaped my decisions and how I viewed everything and everyone. I understand why people feel duty-bound to stop others from plunging head-first into a fiery pit on the day they die. It seems kind. Loving. But the day I asked myself if the idea of God sending people to hell could really be at all loving in any shape or form was the day I began to seek out a new path. A path where I can ask questions and maybe not have all the answers, but at least I feel like I’m being true to following the most loving path for me.

The truth is, it’s not always easy to leave behind the faith of your childhood. There’s a security in it. There’s provision for what seems like every need. You can make friends, have a social life, get cookie-cutter answers to all the ‘big questions’, all the while going to a place every week that feels like home. I know exactly why it’s all so attractive. Why, for many people. It is The answer.

But it’s not mine, and that’s OK.

I’d rather have the fear with the freedom. I’d rather brave the unknown than have the security, but feel constantly like you are living a lie. I’d rather take a risk and choose ‘Love’ in the way I understand it now. I’m constantly evolving and I think we should all be.

I used to be told that spirituality shouldn’t be a private thing. That it should be blasted out from the rooftops for everyone to hear. Because our particular interpretation of religion is the Only. True. Way.

Now I see a beauty in holding our Truth in the privacy of our heart, in a way that doesn’t make anyone else ‘wrong’ or ‘other’. I see beauty in our differences and in the way we see the world. I am trying to learn to judge less and accept more.

I find ‘God’ now in stillness, in nature, in joy, in love, in kindness, in the eyes of a dog, in a poem, in a rainy day, in a cloudless sky, in music, in a friend’s laughter and a lover’s embrace. I see Love all around and within. I see it more now than ever before. Like an endless sea of Love and Hope and Good. I see little, if any, of ‘God’ in religiosity, legalism, rules and fear-provoking messages.

So to those who are worried about my spiritual health, don’t be. I know you mean well, but my spiritual life isn’t really your business. I’ll get on with my life and you can get on with yours. If we’re all living the best we know how, we really are all fighting on the same team. The reality is that there is more which connects us than which separates us.

Please try to remember this the next time you think someone has slipped way below your standards. Maybe your standards aren’t the only ones around.

Sincerely.

(With thanks to my good friend Dave James Horn for use of his photography.)