Religion is not spirituality

We capitalize specific religions because they are proper names. Spirituality requires no capitalization, except of course if it's the beginning of a sentence. But how often does that happen, really? The word spirituality requires no capitalization because it is a humble word. Words like Catholic, Islam, Mormon even the Church of England all require capitals because they are proper names, they are proud.

It's okay to be proud, but it's far more satisfying to be humble. Famed martial artist and creator of Jeet Kun Do, Bruce Lee once said, "Learn everything. Keep what works."

Religion is one ideology at a time, one belief at a time, shared by many. Spirituality can be everything we've ever learned. Spirituality is best used to help us recognize and understand life as individuals.

Grand

My Grandfather built a grand house as strong and sturdy as He
Poured the foundation nearly a lifetime ago
Bags of concrete He carried on His back
Generations held together inside

A bench in the dining room is fastened to the wall
Floating against the wall and strong as a tree
Babies turned to parents, whose babies turned to parents
Whose babies run and jump and eat on that floating bench like all those before them

I once fell from the roof of the house with nobody near
Hanging by the tips of my fingers, the ground a grand distance below my small body
Afraid for my life, I struggled to hold on
With ease He reached up to save me and lowered me safely
I took comfort in the scolding that followed

He built a second garage because one wasn’t enough
Bloodied and scarred, His bear hands worked without pause
Grizzly strong words, authoritative and wise
One gusty day He climbed the family elm just to trim the branches
That’s when they told my Grandfather, it’s time to slow down old man


Thick-skinned and weathered, His grand house fears nothing
Only peach coloured house on the block
Children, grandchildren and He painted the rings
But the latest layer of paint is not peach, it is a faded yellow instead
And it has been applied by a contractor whose name I’ll never know

Grandfather stood up from a conversation we recently had
Put on His coat and said He was gonna’ be late for work
Afraid to break the news, I told him He’d been retired for 20 years
“Fired?”
He sat down in disbelief, “Why would they fire me?”

Slow down, old man was more than a request
It was His last era's beginning
An era he didn't much care for
His powerful voice became weak and uncertain
Mourning began before he was gone

Grandfather earned his peace.

Finding My Groove: From the Dark Green Forests, to the Cold White Arctic

I have this vision for myself when I write. I see myself in a small cabin surrounded by kilometres and kilometres of dark green forests, and the subtle sounds of birds singing so eloquently that their songs can only be heard if I listen for them. I imagine I am sitting at my desk in front of a large picture window. Occasionally I glance out the window, just one look rejuvenates me. The words I write always illustrate the great freedom I am feeling every time I breathe the inspiring tranquility that surrounds me. This imagery is all I need to keep my pen to my paper, or my fingers to the keys. The environment I write in can be anywhere: a busy office or cubicle, a crowded noisy library, my personal office at home or even on a big bus with a notepad. There is something liberating for me that emanates from blank pages that will soon be covered in words. Writing feels like freedom. Sharing my words with others is exciting. I write in hopes that readers will experience the same feelings I did when I filled those blank pages one thought at a time.

Writing is not merely mushy feelings and birds singing; there are many types of writing. I recall writing an essay on climate change and not knowing anything about the topic. In order to simplify the topic I decided to narrow my perspective slightly and focus on a specific issue of climate change: polar bears. I was always fascinated with their massive size and their intimidating presence. I find something courageous about an animal trekking alone in the cold blowing snow of Earth’s most northern region, trusting itself to go the right direction with every step it takes. By narrowing my topic in the essay from climate change, to the effects of climate change on polar bears, the essay suddenly seemed more manageable. Like the polar bear navigating through the Arctic with a purpose, I now had a direction; I was no longer wandering.

As I began my research, the proverbial doors began to open. One fact led to another fact and in a very short period of time, the essay was practically writing itself. This left me with a great feeling. I began the essay early, so I would have time to revise, and it was a good choice. By the time I handed the work in, my essay was a representation of the dedication I used to write it. My final mark on the essay was 85 percent (I think!). At the risk of sounding cliché, I remember the feeling of accomplishment I got when the instructor handed back my work. I felt I did a great job and so did she. The instructor even asked me to email her a copy so she could use it as an example in her future classes.

Looking back on the essay in the above example, I realize I was enjoying the work because I focused on what I wanted to accomplish. Realizing any goal means knowing what you want to accomplish. Focusing on what I want automatically sets my pace and forces me into the type of groove that inspired this page of words. I look forward to the many blank pages that await me tomorrow.