Sacred Energy

The following exchange took place in the season finale of "Marvel: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D." It really spoke to me. I watched the episode twice and really paid attention to this scene both times. Spoiler alert if you haven't yet seen the episode!

Jemma Simmons: I like to think about the first law of thermodynamics, that no energy in the universe is created and...

Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons: None is destroyed.

[Both smile]

Jemma Simmons: That means that every bit of energy inside us, every particle will go on to be a part of something else; maybe live as a dragonfish, a microbe, maybe burn in a supernova. And every part of us now was once a part of some other thing - a moon, a storm cloud, a mammoth.

Leo Fitz: A monkey.

Jemma Simmons: [Smiles] A monkey. Thousands and thousands of other beautiful things that were just as terrified to die as we are. We gave them new life; a good one, I hope.

My journey through The Feminine Face of God continues. The chapter I'm currently reading is about the women's first encounters with the divine. There seem to be a few themes that remained constant throughout the interviews with all the women. The first is that most of the women described experiencing the sacred during their childhood, "whether it was felt in the body as an infusion of energy or light, or took the form of a dialogue with angels, the ability to see auras, or an experience in nature." Another theme is that these experiences rarely remained heightened throughout adolescence and adulthood. Often, the women's peers, parents, or inner self squelched the expression of the divine and they lost the ability to feel its presence, sometimes for decades.

My first experience with a sense of the divine occurred in my backyard during my childhood. Jumping on my trampoline was always a joyful experience. I miss the feeling of flipping around on the bouncy material; of the texture beneath my feet and hands, its smell on a hot day, the burn when I miscalculated a move and my skin slid across its surface... During summer days, I would set up the sprinkler and either jump over or right through the water arcs as they pulsed back and forth. But at night, I would experience a different deep sense of joy. I would lie on my back and watch the stars. I would see constellations, shooting stars, and planes. I remember the deep feeling of awe I experienced when I first really noticed that the world was moving. I had learned this fact in school, but it was another thing altogether to actually see it. It felt like an enormous privilege. As a child this felt miraculous. I felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself. I felt incredibly small but not at all insignificant. On the contrary, I felt enormously excited to be a part of it. To this day, looking at the stars on a dark, clear night is still one of my absolutely favorite things to do. In fact, one of my best memories took place on the shore of Monkey River Belize when the small town where I was staying turned off its generator at night and the world became dark for 50-100 miles around. I would walk alone on the shore of this tiny island, lie in the sand by the lapping waves, and look up at more stars than seemed possible to see. It took my breath away and caused many shed tears simply because of the vastness of what I was seeing. Sometimes it breaks my heart to remember because the memory has faded and become more surreal over the years. But whenever I need to mentally travel away from a difficult or stressful situation, that is most definitely my happy place. 

As I read the various personal stories presented in The Feminine Face of God, I thought about the scene from S.H.I.E.L.D. shared above. It spoke to my inner truth. The stories also made me think about the overall "amount" of spirituality/soul/sacred energy able to be shared. If I accept the first law of thermodynamics - that no energy in the universe is created and none is destroyed - as true, and furthermore if I accept that this means that all energy within all living creatures comes from something else, then my mind goes wild with scenarios. These thoughts are all very raw and little developed, but I still wanted to share and process them. So here goes.

I imagine the universe to be so much larger than I can possibly imagine. However, if no energy is created, that means the amount of energy available is ultimately finite and has therefore been a part of something else before it becomes a part of our lives as walking, breathing, living people. This makes me think of the concept of reincarnation as well as Ralph Waldo Emerson's "The Over-Soul." I wish I was better versed in each of these concepts, but here is my rudimentary summary of each as I understand them.

Reincarnation is the belief that when one dies, one's life force, spirit, or soul becomes a part of a new living being. And my favorite description of Emerson's Over-Soul came from a guest speaker in my UU church. She described it as a large pitcher of "soul" or "spirit." She went on to say that as each person is born, a portion of this Over-Soul is used to fill the person. It becomes a part of them. Then, as one dies, it returns to the source to be used to fill another being. Both of these concepts seem to echo the first law of thermodynamics. They feel like deep truth to me. They also makes me think of those people who are described as "old souls." Are these people who are more aware of or in touch with their soul? And therefore more in touch with their past sacred selves? All this makes me wonder if my spiritual energy was once a part of a star and if that's why I'm so drawn to them.

It seems like there is a downshift in spirituality with each new generation of people. Is it possible to consider that with each new generation there is less sacred energy at the core of people because there's only so much to go around? As though the overall amount of spirituality is diluted as the earth becomes overloaded with people? But on the other hand, that's presuming quite a lot about the earth and its inhabitants which are, after all, only a very small speck in the grand scheme of the universe. Perhaps it's not about dilution as much as disconnection; disconnection from one's own sacred self. I do think that it's fair to say that people as a whole are spending less time in tune with nature, and therefore less time pondering and wondering about the sacred. I make this comparison because nature and sacredness are so intertwined to me.

In The Feminine Face of God, there is this paragraph:

"When we are children everything in our environment vibrates with aliveness. Plants and trees, insects and animals, pebbles and rocks, sky and sea have something to say to us, and we are not self-conscious about talking to them in return. In some elemental way we seem to know that to connect is to respond, and as children we respond to everything. Whether we are walking barefoot on cool grass, smelling the earth's fragrance as we lie on our belly tracking an insect, or catching raindrops on our tongue during a summer shower, we know that we are intimately related to the natural world and that there is a mystery at the heart of this intimacy."

I think we lose our sense of wonder and awe in the race to adulthood. Once there, perhaps we don't take the time to be still, look, smell, taste, and experience all that the natural world has to offer. Enough with this "we" talk. I'm going to speak for myself. I don't do these things. I don't stop as often I would like to amazed by what's around me. I do make an effort to appreciate the beauty of photos. But anyone who has ever visited the Grand Canyon will tell you, a photo will NEVER show the magnitude and incredibleness of the actual experience. There's nothing like engaging more than one sense at a time to really feel connected to the natural world!

Tomorrow I plan to make an effort toward this end. I'm going to spend the morning with a sister friend and her two young children - 5 and 3 years old. We're going to a park so I can capture photos of her children at a new age swinging on a swing set. This has become a tradition of ours over the last few years. Each year, we take swinging photos to show how her children have changed doing the same activity. But I also plan on trying to see the park through their childlike eyes; to notice things I might otherwise overlook and be happy and joyful in the moment. 

As I continue to read The Feminine Face of God, I feel as though something sacred is stretching out and making much needed room within me. It's as though my spirit self is filling me more fully, rolling her eyes good-naturedly that it took me this long, and yet feeling proud of my attempts nonetheless. The women in this book have not only described these childhood experiences and their suppression of them, they have also expressed a reconnection to their spirituality. This gives me hope. My spiritual muscles are weak. I spend so much time reaching out to my patients and families, trying to connect them with their definitions of the sacred that my own experiences have been quite vicarious for a while now. However, this book is changing that for me. It's on par with when I worked through Julia Cameron's The Artist Way several years ago. And for any of you who know me, you know that that is quite high praise!

A question I'm going to try to ponder and live out more often: What can I do today to nourish my spiritual self and sacred energy? Today it was spend time with family, read more of my book and write this post. Tomorrow, it will be deeply enjoying the park with my sister and her children and taking photos. The next day, who knows?!

Representing One's Religion and Faith

I was having a conversation with a dear friend the other night. She too is Unitarian Universalist. When she had just begun attending the local UU church here, it was at a time when she worked at a very mono-religious place. She didn't fit the primary religious culture there, but the topic of religion and faith came up often. She was put into the position of explaining and representing her faith. This was all as a very recent UU who was early on in her own personal faith within this religion! She was questioned about her faith, and not just on a personal level. She was asked to explain the entirety of the religion. That is a tough task for anyone! However, I think it's even more difficult to ask someone to play this role when they are not a part of the dominant faith culture.

Most UUs I know are expected to have an "elevator speech" prepared that describes our faith because it's not a part of common understanding. This is true even among UUs because our faith is so personalized. Our faith does not require absolutes and answers. It's more about a searching and seeking for what is authentic for oneself. It does not mean "everything goes." It means finding ways to promote love, understanding, and personal responsibility. I think it's a difficult enough task to try to find an authentic way to live out one's faith without feeling the need to explain and, in some cases, defend it. There seems to be a precarious balance between a personal journey and representing it. One is an internal and the other external.

I still have a difficult time identifying my faith and what drives me at times. And I'm still really not comfortable saying "I'm not a Christian" because there are so many ramifications regarding my life as a Chaplain. But my truth is that I do believe that Jesus, among other leaders, was a guru and sage. I think he was a wise man who challenged conventional wisdom, did not fit the norm or expected, and promoted love and acceptance. But I cannot find truth or a need to believe in the story of the resurrection. His life is enough for me. I find encouragement and hope in his story as well as in the stories of other religious, political, social and scientific leaders throughout the ages.

My husband made an interesting point one day that has stuck with me. He said he thinks he is "culturally, but not religiously, Christian." We, as a part of the US culture, partake in Christmas and, to a lesser extent, Easter because we were raised within that culture. Does it speak to us religiously? No. But do we still find meaning in some of the rituals, especially those that gather our families together? Yes. I compare it to a person who identifies as Jewish because it is a part of their cultural makeup, but not necessarily a part of their daily or weekly life.

This past Sunday, my church's minister said something I appreciated and agree with: the world is changing. The religious landscape of our country is also changing. And many religions are going to have a difficult time because they are based on ideas that are more or less fixed. But Unitarian Universalism was and is built on a foundation able to shift and change much like the buildings of California able to move safely during earthquakes. It's current and willing to shift. My hope is that it will continue to have foundations of love, hope, and peace.

The subjects in this blog are so difficult for me to share in such an open forum, especially the part about not being a Christian, that I don't plan on sharing in on Facebook as I have with my last couple of blog posts. But I'm grateful that I was open and honest in this post and am still hopeful that someone might read it and value it.

Ramblings

On a friend's recommendation, I recently ordered The Right to Write by Julia Cameron. I think it's interesting that it took me as long as it did for me to call myself an artist. But now I finally feel like I can claim that title for the long years of practice and effort that I've taken drawing and painting. And, though I've been doing it nearly as long, "singer" is another title that often sounds just as pretentious to claim as "artist." But I sing, therefore I am a singer. I create art, therefore I am an artist.

But one thing I have never laid claim to is being a writer. Or, even more scary, a poet. Sure, I write on here and I journal. But really, that's about it. But there is something about this particular art that intrigues me, perhaps even calls to me. One of my life ambitions is to write a children's book and have it published. I have a draft that I need to brush up on and see where it can take me from here. I need to work on it soon because it deeply expresses my gratitude to my parents and I would sincerely love seeing them read it. I think I will share the draft with them.

I have taken one writing workshop that I extremely loved. The guidance via prompts yet the freedom to write were both incredible to experience. So, with that in mind, I'm going to see what the inspiring Ms. Cameron has for me in my latest book experience with her.

I don't know what will become of my writing. Maybe it'll be a helpful, developed from of self-expression. Maybe it'll grow into something more, though I don't have many thoughts at this moment of what "more" may mean. One thing I know it will do is give me an outlet for writing that is more representational of who I am. As a Chaplain, I document my interactions with patients and families. The formulas I use to write are dry and concrete. I do not feel comfortable nor do I think it is appropriate for me to write in the flowery, poetic style that feels more comfortable to me. But I need to do that somewhere! Otherwise it remains bottled inside, swirling and writhing, longing for release. Expression is such a beautiful form of release. Therefore, I hope to express more and filter less. Who knows what may come!