If Love Was Our Religion

If Love Was Our Religion

You’ll see them showing up as yogis, tantric practitioners, the fire and belly dancers and the activists among us that work overtime to live a large life on a small footprint. You’ll see them in drum circles, hosting meet-ups with words like “sacred heart”, ancestral healing and other mystical descriptions that, if you don’t judge the process, can be quite enlightening, not to mention entertaining. There are SO many flavors, all of them sharing one central goal.

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Connection to self, to others and to this universal source. (Whatever you like to call it) I don’t know about you, but I’ve grown confused in my ambiguity to either of the tribes and disassociated from membership. I am the Ferris Bueller of religion, liked by all, hated by none but kinda on the outside of everyone.

As a man in love with all things spiritual in nature, I’m a consummate seeker, exploring beliefs, talking to others, especially ones that appear different, all in an effort to get a little closer, to get an edge and experience that spiritual nirvana that feels oh, so good!

In my seeking, I’ve been a spiritual slut. Ya, I said it and doubt I’m alone. Drunk on the spiritual high, seeking the next momentous experience to smoke deeply from the practice that will get me closer to this source. It’s been fun, and exhausting and I doubt God is all that impressed.

To quote the 17th-century activist, Robert Payne, “What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly. It is dearness only that gives everything its value.” Do I value, truly cherish, my spiritual walk? Am I willing to hold true right now, at this moment, when nobody else is watching to see how reverently I worship, how beautifully I dance around the fire or how powerfully I bang the drum in the circle? Is this deep vibration frequency reverberating through my heart, fulfilling and living ON purpose giving life meaning?

Am I true!?

Those three words haunt me. Yet, I feel hope. I’ve carried around that ‘Ole Rugged Cross’ (hardcore Christians will understand that reference), impaled myself on the very steeple I’ve worked to erect and suffocated in the spiritual practices of the globe to find identity with others that truly want to worship and experience this bliss of knowing.

We all want to know we’re more than this feeble human body. Indoctrinated with a worldview of God that he (notice I gave it a masculine pronoun) is a wise man with a white beard and friendly eyes sitting kingly on a massive throne with all power to judge and send us little people to a burning place of fire. Or, if I “act right” and keep the biblical (Biblical..again, big B or little B?) laws given to the Israelite’s 3,000 years ago (that were intended to keep them alive) well then, certainly my behavior will earn me god’s pleasing and divine favor.

Do you sometimes wonder about what you are meant to do in this life?

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Surrendering it all, laying the practices down gently I’m left to ask the question we all avoid, what is your religion? Staring out the windows of life, we ponder, we ask questions and we return over and over again expecting different results from the many practices. Funny how our species seems to run in cycles and we’re now embracing things that the powerfully enlightened of our time have spoken (preached) about for hundreds of centuries. Jesus, Buddha, the sages, stoics, and mystics of old all forming the conclusions that our fast-paced society has to sexy-up and retro-fit into the mechanics of our mind.

2 thoughts on “If Love Was Our Religion”

  1. “Every culture and religion has studied [God] in an atom, and believes that it has discovered Truth. In fact, they have but one ingredient. [God] is immense. Neither He nor Truth can be suppressed. Therefore, I have discerned among the cultures and religions which I have encountered, for even in years of fixed pursuit, one cannot learn the whole of these tissues of civilizations, that Truth, also, is infinite. It is not something that can be arrived at in a lifetime. I, therefore, have discerned of all the things which I have confronted, some of these ingredients of Truth, and though I have not hit upon it in its fullness, and indeed I never shall, I now have a faith with which I can sustain myself.”
    “But what faith is that?”
    “Compassion has its bounds.”
    “I own that it does. There is sometimes a compromise, sometimes not. But one must learn where to draw his own battle lines.”
    “Where are yours drawn?”
    “In injustice.”
    -an excerpt from my work-in-progress novel, “Emerging Shadows.”

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