There are catalysts that propel us, life events that are defining moments and change us. We don’t seek them out; they find us. They can be whispers, visions, or roars of awakening. Others around us will be oblivious….and we will be profoundly, directly, and specifically touched…and compelled to act or change or be taken in a whole new direction. From cocoon to butterfly, acorn to oak. Transformations of a lifetime…becoming much more of who we are. Exciting and amazing stuff!
One of mine came January 6, 1996, in a Sunday night church service. To me it was a mighty roar of awakening that propelled me to walk from the limited parameters of my Catholic roots to find something more. This too had been coming for a long time. That reading, that sermon, was just the final straw, the tipping point, the confirmation, the point of no return. To leave one’s church, one’s religion, is not something taken lightly…at least, not for me. On this day, though, the final catalyst came. The beloved church of my childhood was not enough for the calling I was here to honor. There was no longer a doubt. I could not stay if I was to grow and become all of who I was here to become. I didn’t know what I was going ‘to’ — only that I had to feed a part of my soul that was starving and hungry, the feminine part. The pantry was bare. The soul food I needed was not to be found here.
I listened and paid attention to what my spirit was drawn to. That Lent, my soul journey was outside the church. It wasn’t a church season, this time of introspection and soul work; it was Nature’s season. My Midwest farm roots; Mother Nature had always been my teacher. I started there, honoring her ways, her wisdom and lessons, Universal Laws that included all beings and creatures. Law, justice, fairness, equality, empowering of the human spirit, positive, uniting, common sense, simple, inspiring, practical, inclusive…all those things mattered to me. … and that image and likeness of the divine I was created in. (Yes, I paid attention in all those catechism classes…and at the image in the mirror…and the hunger in my heart.)
I didn’t throw the baby out with the bath water. I just drained the bath water to get a better look at the baby. And I found what the church of my childhood had missed. I found the missing pieces my feminine spirit, body, and being needed.
Imagine a beautiful picture puzzle with missing pieces…holes all over…the ones with your name on them–and the JOY of completing the picture and finding yourself in it. Oh yes, much better.
Love and blessing – Anne 🙂