Another way to think about spirituality

and the quality of our connections

If I was allowed one sentence to sum it up, to explain what I mean when I say, “church of shadow and light”, I’d say it’s a way of being that allows fully accessing our connections—to self, to loved ones, to nature, to community. If allowed one more sentence, I’d say that spirituality—be that a sense of spirituality tied to an organized version of religion or something that’s much more abstract— is about the quality of those connections.

Think about your connection to God, to the force in the universe that is bigger than what you can control—maybe we’ll call on AA vocabulary and call it your higher power¹— and how you see yourself in relation to that higher power. Some folks take solace from and find connection to spiritual teachings via church or synagogue, temple or mosque. Others find it by spending time in nature or playing music or making art or being of service to others. Spirituality and how we live it out varies a great deal, yet there are some commonalities when it comes to tapping into the parts of ourselves that want to be connected to something greater than we can come up with alone. I always appreciate how Mary Oliver put it when she wrote, “Attention is the beginning of devotion.” We could say that spirituality is about where our attention is going. It is about taking care of the quality of the connections that are created as a result of that devotion — to self, others, and to community. Maybe I’d go so far as to say we all have a church of shadow and light—even if we haven’t uncovered it yet — a place or community where we feel fully accepted and connected to the version of God that we know.

John Potter from Living Lutheran Magazine interviewed me about my latest poetry collection, titled Church of Shadow and Light, just after the book came out earlier this year. He asked about the title and that concept, saying, In the book you define church as being “wherever you find the version of God that you know.” Could you expand a bit on that idea for those new to it?

And I responded with:
The title of Church of Shadow and Light actually comes from a poem that was first published within a chapter of [my book] Collisions of Earth and Sky. In the “Rewilding Spirituality” chapter, I write about what it means to find your version of church in whatever places and people are wholly accepting of who you are. Maybe it’s a place outside, maybe it’s through a more traditional congregational church structure, maybe it’s the energy that greets you when you spend time with a certain group of people or creatures or trees. Wherever it is, “church,” by the definition I offer here, is intimately connected to how you see and feel God in the world. Church is where you experience connection to something greater than yourself.

But let’s be honest. “Experiencing connection to something greater than yourself” can feel like a big reach—

especially in a personal development, pull yourself up by your bootstraps culture

especially if spirituality isn’t something you’ve thought much about before

especially if spirituality, for you, has historically been linked with religious trauma.

The good news is that when we frame spirituality as taking care of the quality of our connections, and remember that humans are made to exist in community with other forms of life, not as silos embarking on personal happiness quests alone, it can feel more accessible and relevant.²

It’s likely you have some ways of tapping into spirituality, but if doing so feels like a stretch right now, here are some tiny things to try on.

Go outside and look all the way up—feel the universe holding you.

Take three intentional breaths—acknowledge the life force that flows through you.

Read something that aligns with your values and beliefs for five minutes at the end of the day or before breakfast.

Make your walk to the mailbox a form of meditation—let every step be a prayer.

Choose a gratitude staircase or hallway or doorway in your home— offer thanks each time you move through that area.

Watch the sun rise or set once a week—witness beauty that’s freely given and completely outside your control.

Set an intention for your day. Maybe it’s one word, the name of a person, or an issue. When you become conscious of your breath, return to your intention to get centered.

Put a journal on your nightstand. Either first thing in the morning or last thing at night (or both!) take a few moments to write down the good stuff. Practicing gratitude doesn’t change tough situations, but it can shift how you respond.

---

I have this reoccurring memory that tends to surface this time of year, around the 4th of July, about being about eight years old, mad that we'd missed fireworks for some reason. In an act of rebellion, I slept on the deck. As I was laying there in my sleeping bag, staring at the night sky and stewing about the grave injustice of having to miss fireworks, I saw a falling star. Then another. It was entirely enchanting, and I remember it clear as day, even now 38 years later. I wonder what the world would be like if we all watched for falling stars instead of fireworks. If we consciously mined for methods of enchantment. If we figured out how to celebrate peace instead of independence; connection instead of victory.

I also wonder what would be different if we all paid more attention to moss. Or to the feel of grass on bare feet. Or to how a newly blossomed poppy sways in the breeze. Or how the bark of an aspen differs from the bark of a maple. Or how a loon glides low across still waters, diving and surfacing, diving and surfacing, pausing now and then to send a haunting call into the sky. Or the way a drop of water slides down a flower petal on its way to the ground below, a tiny river of liquid song.

At any rate, may the rest of your July be full of opportunities to find enchantment, explorations of what it means to celebrate peace, and space to ask the questions that don’t have clear answers but need to be asked anyway as you care for the quality of the connections that matter most.

There is nothing but mystery in the world. 
Ditch lilies and wild daisies, popping up
year after year, always appearing
never the same, making us wonder
why beauty graces us with presence
finding a way to connect with us
even now, as destruction continues
bright orange and delicate white
standing proud on stems of deep green, 
perfectly ordinary abundance showing up
mystery and connection, offerings of shadow and light. 

1. These days I work in addiction treatment, so the language of AA often comes up. I never used to use the words higher power, but that way of framing it tends to be accessible to folks of many traditions, so I’m finding it to be a useful term.

2. And, again, spirituality can include religion, or not. In my opinion, it’s not up to me, as a human, to decide what does and does not count as spirituality for somebody else. Barring violence—to self to others to earth— as a way to access it, because violence severs connection and that’s the opposite of what we’re going for here.