When I was much younger, a boyfriend commented on how deeply spiritual I was.
He was Episcopalian and a product of Jesuit schools, so I dismissed his comment—and dismissed him shortly after. But his words always stuck with me.
Somehow I knew how clearly he had seen or sensed something in me that I wasn’t yet ready to see or sense myself.
I had confused religion with spirituality, something I know many of us do—cutting our divinity because we don’t believe in any one dogma or faith.
Years have gone by and with it, many discoveries about who I am as spiritual person, and how I tend to the care and feeding of that side of me. Much of it is private and a lot of it unable to be expressed—only felt.
But I do know this: it is always present for me when music, art, and movement are present. And it always gets heightened in nature and when I travel. It’s more about being in spaces—the energy and the environment—than the community, rituals or people within it.
I owe a debt of gratitude to that brown-eyed man in my past who looked into my soul years ago and saw the divinity that lay within. I am the temple of my own divinity now. No building can contain me, no dogma can constrain me, and there are no bounds to my sacredness.
Want to know what these daily verses are all about? Read here to learn what inspired this practice on my birthday post, November 1st.
