“Super Spiritual”
I have often been referred to as “super spiritual.” It was always said lovingly and with a sense of appreciation yet, I never really appreciated it. Having been raised Catholic, I always associated spirituality with strict religion and the church. This was an issue for me. As much as I appreciate the teachings and hold no ill will against people’s faith and belief systems, I take issue with people trying to control others based on their own beliefs. I take issue with people colonising natives or telling fellow humans that there is something wrong with them for being different and referring to it as reform. Finally, I take issue with individuals trying to enforce social constructs and duality thinking when, in fact, we are complex organisms. There is a complete lack of awareness or anthropological curiosity. It usually comes from a place of fear, which (in my opinion) fuels the desire for power, suffocating any form of understanding.
The church and I have always had a rocky relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the routine and ritual of getting up, sleeping in mass (in the early days) for an hour every morning, chatting outside with family, my parents, and family’s friends, and then all of us heading to the same restaurant to eat breakfast together. We would then be home at about 9 am and would have a family day. The issue started when I began to listen to the teachings and kept hearing about the negative referencing and oppression of women. It is in Genesis that Eve ate the apple, and they were kicked out of paradise. From the beginning, the message to women is: “it’s your fault.” Maybe that’s why some men hate women so much. They are equally getting the message, “it’s their fault. Blame them.” The point is, I was aware from a young age that I was not equal in a man’s world. I, unfortunately, experienced being “put down” or “put in my place” multiple times in my life, never within my family. As I got older, read more, and became educated a bit more on history, the messages with hardcore religious doctrine never sat well with me. Hence the aversion to “super spiritual.” Although, with time, things changed.
I have worked in various Catholic schools with the view to be the change I wished to see in the Catholic world. There are several others out there, but it feels like it is still a subtle, quiet revolution. People have spoken about my faith (not my religion) and my spirituality in both my professional and personal life. Perhaps this was nurtured by my upbringing in the church and my family, however, it is also a result of experiencing and bearing witness to suffering. My Grandpa lived by the following words and said them to me often: “Mija, be kind, forgive them, and love them anyway.” If ever I was enraged about something, he would let me feel the rage, then would speak to me about it. He was adamant that you were not forgiving the wrongdoing nor accepting the behaviour/pain, you were forgiving so you could let go and move on. He always chose love. He was my mentor and my spiritual teacher, and I felt lost when he died. I still grieve him, but these days it is more a celebration and gratitude for the time I had with him. He endured great suffering and had his future taken from him in an instant due to a farming accident resulting in his father’s death. For years, he felt responsible for his dad’s death. One afternoon, in his back garden, he told me the story. It wasn’t his fault. In the story, I heard of a father protecting his son. Due to my great-grandfather’s death, my grandpa and his brother had to drop out of school to work, so they could help their mom support their siblings, pay the bills, and put food on the table. Throughout adversity, as I knew him, he never lost the gentleness of his soul.
My grandpa showed me unconditional love and acceptance all our shared life together. Only once in the 24 years that I had with him did we ever have cross words. Even then, it was brief. I speak of him because he is the one who introduced me to Gandhi, Mother Teresa, the Buddha, and other spiritual leaders and teachers throughout time. He was a devout Catholic, however, he acknowledged and recognised the wisdom of sages throughout the world. Don’t get me wrong, if there was ever an issue, Grandpa Tony had just the Bible verse for it, and it always was just what I needed to hear. He also taught me how to commune with nature. I would spend hours up in trees, lying on the grass, or in mud pits I made with my brother (as you do). He would talk to the birds like children, or just listen to their songs, encouraging me to notice the beauty in the simple things.
The importance of sharing this is because he was a huge part of forming my spirituality. I feel most at peace among the trees, listening to the birds, or gazing at the ocean, feeling the wind caress and hold me. My Grandpa, and my family, sharing their stories of adversity with me, have helped to shape who I am as a person and my beliefs. In my own misfortune and current loss, I have found the most beautiful sense of peace and joy. I had worked hard, preparing for the life that I had been working towards for so long. Then, life happened, and it changed my feelings and perspective on everything. What I wanted changed. Where I needed to be to nourish and soothe my soul was no longer where I intended to build my independent life. So, in choosing to leave the life I so carefully crafted, I am losing much. Some people would refer to it as everything but, I have my health and my mental and emotional well-being; what more do you need?
I know it is the right choice. I can feel it deep within, and there is no fear. Perhaps because material items hold no value to me, I am not distraught when I am without them. I guess this is where being “super spiritual” is beneficial in feeling you are in calm waters within a raging sea. I credit my yoga and meditation practice for honing my skills in the art of detachment. The luscious irony of my situation is that in the choices I have made, I have moved from surviving to thriving. That is worth more to me than any worldly item or narrative. Maybe being seen as “super spiritual” isn’t so bad.
With love,
M x