June 28: Spiritual Journey, Spiritual Auobiography Workshop, Indifference

I just spent a little bit of time doing a writing exercise for the Spiritual Autobiography Workshop I'm leading tonight.  The assignment was to divide your life into the major periods of your spiritual journey.  I did this same exercise when I taught Spiritual Journaling last fall.  The previous time I did it, I wasn't really sold on the divisions I came up with.  This time, I think I was more honest with myself, and the result is truer and a little scarier.

I came up with nine divisions for my spiritual journey:

1. Childhood:  Dad's struggle with church
2. Adolescence:  Indifference toward God
3. Undergraduate Years:  Religion as a way to make money
4. Graduate School:  Reconciling academics and faith and sex
5. Marriage:  Childless years
6. Celeste and Bipolar:  Some time in the desert
7. Sexual Addiction and Separation:  Being a single parent, more time in the desert
8. Gideon:  Being blessed
9. Sexual Addiction Again and Healing

A lot of those time periods have some pretty difficult struggles associated with them.  I've turned my back on God more than once in my life, mostly because I thought God had turned Her back on me.  At this moment in my life, I don't feel like I'm on completely sure spiritual footing.  I think I'm on better footing than I have been in a long while, but the horizon isn't clear of all storm clouds.

Wandering in the desert

The reason I'm writing about this subject is that I was pretty astounded over how much mental illness and addiction has touched so many areas of my life.  I've wondered for a very long time about God's plan for my life and how my wife's bipolar and other problems fit into this plan.  I've been trying to figure out how to take the dross of my life and turn it into gold for a long time.  I'm hoping this spiritual autobiography is going to be the first step toward figuring out the shape and direction of my journey.

All this may sound pretty deep and heavy.  It is.  I've never been much for authors who spend a majority of their time analyzing the lint from their bellybuttons.  Such seriousness tends to turn me off.  However, I've been preoccupied all day with this line of thinking, and I can't shake it off.

It doesn't help that I'm currently working in an office with a person who seems to have some kind of grudge against me.  This person has been pretty much ignoring me all day long, or interacting with me as little as possible.  It's put me in a very bad mood.  I like this person, have always gotten along with this person.  Now, it seems as if all that good will is gone.  I tried this morning to be friendly, joke around the way we normally do.  The response was colder than an iceberg.

One of my best friends just made me read an article about detachment.  Basically, the philosophy of the author can be summed up with one statement:  "I love you, and I don't care what happens to you."  That seems fairly cold-hearted to me, but it may be the tact I have to take with my coworker who's giving me the cold shoulder at the moment.  (My initial reaction this morning was a big, fat "fuck you," but I've had a few hours of reflection.  I have settled into a state of indifference now.)

I don't have anything funny to lighten up today's post.  As I complete writing the sections of my spiritual autobiography, I will share them with you.  Stay tuned for the installments, mixed with poetry and cartoons.

Saint Marty's going to try to lighten up now.

Letting go and not caring