I don't wanna.
Not only do I refuse to define my spiritual practice, I believe entirely that it would be detrimental to my practice to do so.
Spirituality is, let's be honest, a subjective word with an elusive indeterminate meaning. We might be able to come to the same table and agree that, for the most part, spirituality is an understanding that we are connected to something larger than ourselves. How we define that "something", however, is where the differences abound. These differences are sometimes expressed with interest, acceptance and understanding or, if we're unfortunate, a dithering, angry mass of judgments and denials.
Let's just skip the reactions entirely and live our spiritual lives the way we chose without the need to validate it to others through the box of definition.
"The new spirituality is that it will produce an experience in human encounters in which we become a living demonstration of the basic spiritual teaching 'We are all one.' "
Neale Donald Walsch
I am monotheistic. Some days, I'm loosely agnostic. Others, I'm a non-theist all together. I don't prescribe to a pantheistic idea of deity, and I've never believed in or utilized the energies of fairies or dragons, not literally nor as an archetype. I love the pomp of ritual but rarely practice it. I do not recognize the standard Wheel of the Year (or recognize it when it suits me) and find terms like "pagan", "wiccan" or "witch" to be self-defeating and limiting. I believe magic happens by the power of personal will, and has nothing to do with what herbs or stones or moon phases our spells employ.
And you know what? That is all okay. If you believe I am wrong, or you practice a different way.... that's okay too. None of those things define me nor my practice, nor what spirituality means to me. They are not each independent of one another and each adds a page to a story in which my journey continues. None of these things validate nor invalidate my practice. They do not, by themselves, illustrate anything about me but my undeniable curiosity.
If your practice is specific and defined and that works for you, then I applaud you and your spiritual life. I appreciate your journey, your courage in taking it... whatever the specifics may be. We should all strive for what fills our hearts and souls with purpose, with what meaningfully and beautifully moves us forward on our paths and hope that, occasionally, we may bump into one another during the journey and smile in our knowing and understanding that there is beauty in our uniqueness.
Be unique. Be you, unapologetically. And be bright and bold and ignore the use of alliteration. I'm a slave to cliche and all forms of literary devices.
I've always had a preference for the written word. Before all the arts, for me, there is pen and paper and an insatiable desire to express myself, even within the confines of my own limited vocabulary. As a child of 10, I used to walk to the local gift store with my hard-earned allowance (who else cleaned grout with a toothbrush and Comet?!) to purchase a beautiful, stark new journal, with which I would sit on my driveway and write Thoreau-esque about the nature of spirit, the connection between spirit and body, and rather unsophisticated, though sincere, musings on religion and the power and purpose of faith.
And this practice continued into my early teens, recording my first experiences with Quija, Tarot and Wicca, with automatic writing and the relationship between the living and dead. But it wasn't until my 20's that I really invested, in my writing, my spiritual process, practice and personal beliefs.
Beyond how my relationship with Spirit manifests itself internally, I've never much cared for the idea of defining to others my religious or spiritual practice. It was always on the edge of practices, characterized by modern esoteric religions with words like "Wiccan", "Pagan" or "Magician".... which were all less than. Less than my faith. Less than my self-empowerment. Less than my internal divinity. And because I was on the fringe of "acceptable" new age practice, understanding it (even for myself) became a difficult endeavor.
Despite my indifference to defining my practice and beliefs to others, I began to experience a soupy, dim confusion regarding my relationship with the Divine and how that translated into practical worship. Journaling then became an extremely integral part of my personal process. It allowed me the opportunity to discuss with Spirit, in a safe and meaningful way, my thoughts and feelings, and receive those messages from Spirit in turn.
These days, this type of journaling is often referred to in (again, limiting) terms such as "Shadow Work", "Book of Mirrors", or, as I like to simplify, spiritual reflection. Though these are not all-encompassing descriptives regarding the purpose and place of journaling in spiritual practice, I think, at the very least, it captures the basic essence.
And though I still use pen and paper every day, to discuss my relationship with the Divine Feminine or, as the unfortunate truth may sometimes be, a missing relationship with Spirit, my thoughts have often translated themselves into digital format, which is how we arrive here, to my blog, "The Points of Five", the five elements, the star, the five corners of Spirit, sometimes hidden, sometimes embraced.
I hope you embrace your own journey while I embrace mine and we can share in the discovery together!