My Spiritual Pilgrimage

Warning: we’re going a little woo woo hippy dippy today.

My parents invited me to join them on a 12-day pilgrimage around the UK and Ireland last month. I jumped at the chance thinking it would be a nice way to spend time with them. I had not focused on the fact that pilgrimages generally have a spiritual component to them.

Needless to say, I was not prepared for what was in store. I recited more prayers in one morning than I had in the past 5 years combined. While it was a joy to be with a group of generous and loving people led by Fr Jerry Orbos, I felt like a fish out of water. The religious practices were unfamiliar and strange to me now.

I found solace, however, in what Fr Jerry said at the very start of the retreat, “Pray with words if you wish. Or just pray with your heart. Each one of us has our own relationship with the Lord.”

My faith was largely formed in an ultra-conservative all-girls Catholic school. For 11 years, we were prescribed formulas on how to “know God”. We were forced to memorize a manual of Catholic principles, made to recite a litany of prayers at appointed times, pulled out of class each week to reflect on our sinfulness and confess our sins. We were lectured on how to dress appropriately so as not to tempt our fathers and brothers (?!!), herded into buses for mini-pilgrimages, taught how to properly genuflect in front of the altar. Not to mention the basic rules of attending mass on Sundays and holidays, fasting and abstaining on appointed days, getting ashed on Ash Wednesday, fasting at least an hour before communion, etc etc. As a type A student, religion became a mental exercise: follow the rules and your soul will be saved.

My relationship with God was that of a strict distant father high up in gold-gilded Heaven to whom I called out when I needed a favor. He, meanwhile, was playing and replaying videos of my life, tallying points based on my adherence to his rules. My relationship with humans was largely the same. I judged people based on their outward religious acts, and they, too, judged me (a priest once told me to be thankful I didn’t get hit by a bus before I was able to confess my sins).

I was a brooding child, bereft of lightness, joy or spontaneity. I grew up guilty about everything and fearful of everlasting repercussions (I regularly woke up in the middle of the night anxious about the thought of eternal damnation). Ironically, religion became the oppressor that kept me distanced from God.

I do wonder what would have become of me had I not attended a university run by the Jesuits (the order that the fabulous Pope Francis is from). The Jesuits are known to be the Catholic liberal thinkers. They are more inclusive and more in touch with the world, the “socialists”. Just a few years with the Jesuits chipped away the tyrannical constructs of my faith as I had formed it. I was their ready and willing victim, only too happy to shed off the righteous religious cloak as soon as someone so much as said “it’s okay”.

The Jesuits cracked the door open for the further exploration of my spirituality. Over the next two decades, I threw myself into books of self-help writers and spiritual thinkers (both Catholic and non-Catholic) including the Dalai Lama, Thich Nhat Hahn, Pema Chodron, Michael Singer, Dror Ashua, Eckhart Tolle, Rumi and the like. I wasn’t quite sure I knew what I was looking, but I knew I’d know it when I found it.

Today, my spiritual practice looks nothing like the religion of my childhood. I don’t think I can even articulate the principles of my beliefs (if there even are any), but I thought I’d share them for anyone who might also be in the search.

MEDITATION. My spirituality is rooted in meditation. It all started with a book my Dad gave me in 2005 called “Sadhana: A Way to God”. It was written by Anthony de Melo, a Jesuit (gotta love those Jesuits!), who attempted to combine Christian prayer with Eastern meditation. I tried some of his suggested practices simply out of curiosity. I quickly noticed, however, that the effect of this kind of “wordless” prayer was more profound than any prayer I had been reciting.

I started off using de Melo’s book as a guide for my meditation practice, following his awareness and visualization techniques. I, then, branched out to other forms of meditation drawing from Buddhism, mindfulness meditation, pranayama, etc. I also followed guided meditations for forgiveness, healing, love, or any other emotional shifts I needed at those particular moments. Today, I practice any one of these depending on how I feel.

I meditate daily. It is the first thing I do when I get up, sitting for at least 15 minutes. I add on a few minutes here and there whenever and however I can (in the subway, waiting for a friend, on a park bench). Not all my meditations are sitting with eyes closed. Sometimes, I meditate while walking, or stretching. Meditation is simply being silent and mindful, being aware of what is around you, what is within you. This simple practice has resulted in deep shifts in my nature.

RELAXATION. At the very base, meditation has helped me relax at the physical level. From a highly assertive personality (read: stressed and tensed), relaxed has now become my default state. This relaxation feels like the stillness and peace you would feel if you were sitting at the bottom of the ocean, where the ripples or the crashing waves on the surface of the water don’t disturb you. I am much more aware when I am pulled out of this state — say if I find myself getting angry or stressed — and breathe into the tension that occurs in my body to get back to relaxation.

MINDFULNESS. At the next level, meditation has helped me gain control of what Buddhists call the “monkey mind” — the constant chatter in our heads. Like a monkey jumping from branch to branch, my mind used to run non-stop about anything and everything: my to-do lists, judgement of a colleague, a boy who hasn’t called, the heat, on and on and on.

Chatter happens when we don’t agree with what is happening around us — when we don’t like what a colleague is saying, when we prefer to be somewhere cooler, when we can’t accept that the boy hasn’t called. Chatter is our way of resisting life, of trying to force life to go the way we want it to. In reality, this chatter only results in pain to ourselves. Because in reality, we can’t do much about what is outside us and beyond our control. What we can control is our resistance to life; instead, we can learn to accept it. Meditation has helped me quiet down this inner voice of resistance and allow life to flow as it wants to, and embrace whatever is in front of me.

NON-JUDGEMENT. Meditation has helped me release judgement of others. People are neither “bad” nor “good”; they are all teachers. They come into our lives to reveal a part of ourselves that needs work or attention. For example, if we are jealous of someone, that person is showing us where we feel a lack and where we can develop. Be grateful for the people that come into our lives, even briefly. And be okay with letting go of those who no longer serve our emotional and spiritual growth.

TRUST. Meditation has helped me learn to trust that life unfolds as it should. I try to remain unattached to my desired outcomes and be okay with everything that comes. And know that the lesson in everything will eventually reveal itself.

Through meditation, the practice of my faith has shifted from a head exercise to a movement to spirit. When there are no worries, no grasping, or no clinging, life becomes simple, peaceful and joyful! Pope Francis said, “Being happy is not a fatality of destiny, but an achievement for those who can travel within themselves.”

“One searches for God in books. One finds him in meditation.” – St. Pio