This post has been a long time coming, and one I honestly never thought I’d write. For years, I’ve struggled with keeping my spirituality a secret. Why, you ask? That’s a good question. I actually don’t know. Part of it — a large part of it, really — has been fear that the people I love, or just kind of tolerate, would look at me different or think I’m weird (well, I am kind of weird, but that has nothing to do with my spirituality). And that’s a difficult truth to admit, partly because it unfairly portrays the people in my life as judgmental and close-minded, when I know that isn’t the case. It also means that I’ve been keeping a pretty significant part of my life secret, meaning very few people really know me. You know how sometimes you have two different sets of friends that you swear will never, ever meet? That’s what it was like – in some cases, very literally. I had my “spiritual” friends and my “regular” friends (I won’t use “normal” here because “normal” is relative and a bit problematic).
And honestly, being spiritual kind of conflicts with my overall personality. I’m generally pretty logical and spirituality and logic don’t exactly go hand in hand. But I’m reminded of a quote from Macbeth, when SPOILER ALERT the eponymous character is visited by the ghost of his dead father.
If you ask me why I believe what I believe (which you didn’t, but I’m going to tell you anyway), it’s because of experience. I’ve seen/felt shit that could not be explained by science or logic. In the past when I’ve done Reiki treatments, I’ve had people fall asleep because they were so relaxed, tell me their pain went away, or that they worked through some emotional baggage they didn’t know they were still holding on to.
One of the most beautiful experiences I had was volunteering at the Hope Lodge giving Reiki to women with breast cancer. I had one woman come in who spoke French and only a little bit of English, so I had to gesture and pantomime what I wanted her to do. She fell asleep after a few minutes and when I woke up her at the end of our session, she was crying. I helped her sit up slowly and she took my hands and told me “merci” over and over. I left the Lodge that day beaming because it felt so good to help those women in my small way.
When I retook Reiki classes this past summer, I felt the collective energy of my fellow students and my teacher and felt an overwhelming sense of love when the other three members of my group all gave me Reiki at once. I’ve done Tarot readings for people that either frightened or amazed them because of the accuracy. I’ve thought about people and had them reach out to me the next day or even that same day. I’ve felt bad vibes from people just to learn later that my instinct about them was correct. I’ve experienced more synchronicities than I can count, “known” things I couldn’t possibly have known. The list goes on. In other words – I’ve learned that there is more to this world than what we can see or physically feel.
“But Tayla,” you interject, which is rude AF, but I’ll allow it just this once because I’m trying not to be a total Scorpio in 2018. “What makes your being spiritual any different than someone being religious?”
GOOD QUESTION. And the answer is: there really shouldn’t be a difference. I’m not going to pretend to understand why believing in God is more acceptable than believing in the Universe, or why believing that stones have healing powers is crazy but believing the same for water from a grotto in France is A-OK. That’s just kind of how it is, although I’m glad to see that it is changing. Of course, there will still be people who think believing a “universal life energy” can heal is crazy, but still go to church to get hands laid on them.
You may also be wondering how this is a “coming out” when I’ve written about spirituality and the fact that I consider myself spiritual but not religious in the past. This is different because it is me legitimately claiming my beliefs. This is me saying, “This is who I am — *in my Jay Z voice* either love me or leave me alone.”
And here’s the thing. Most of you reading this probably don’t care about my “coming out.” And that’s cool – thank you for rocking with me this far. If you do care and you’re like, “Girl, bye,” well, it was nice knowing you. If you do care and you’re wondering why I haven’t talked about this, we can talk.
But I didn’t really write this for any of you. I wrote it for me because I’ve had one foot in this world since I was a teenager, and because I see that world starting to collide with my reality. I can’t run from it any longer. Because when I do things that align with these beliefs, that align with this path that I’ve been veering from forever, I feel the glow like Bruce Leroy.
I wrote it because I’ve been giving advice to people to live their truths, to let go of fear and doubt, but I haven’t been practicing what I preach. I wrote it because, well, it needed to be written – because I can’t be who I’m supposed to be without being honest about this side of me.
All of this is leading up to something that I’ve been wishy-washy about for years. I’m not quite at the point where I want to be just yet, but when I get there, I’ll share.
In the meantime, thank you for reading.
(P.S. If you’re curious about Reiki, hit me up. Seriously, even if you’re skeptical, I’m more than happy to talk more about it!)
Feature image photo credit: (Kathryn Hile / Flickr under CC By 2.0)