To be honest, I'm jealous.

A former friend of mine seems to be undergoing a conversion to Christianity. To make a long story short, for almost a year and a half, she was coming to weekly Unitarian Universalist meetings that we held at our home. Then, within the scope of a month or so, she decided she did not want to be friends anymore, joined the community Bible study, and started writing about a conversion of sorts on her blog.

There were many reasons she decided not to be friends any longer, and though it has been frustrating for me, I understand that she was needing to take better care of herself and being friends with me made that difficult for her (for multiple reasons).

Yet, I cannot help but be aware of the mixed feelings that have surfaced about her conversion. In one sense, it has been simply baffling to me that someone could change so quickly. Her new habits, her everyday language, her scripture-quoting, and her participation in Bible studies and VBS has been a complete transformation from the person she presented herself to be during the 1.5 years of UU meetings. 

And, though I do not consider myself to be a Christian, I have always felt as though people need to find what works for them - whether it be Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Agnosticism.... We are all on different paths to the same destination. Why, then, was I feeling annoyed... frustrated... and, to be honest, a little sad, about her newfound Christian faith?

The answer, I found, is that I am jealous.

Being a Christian would make things so much... easier, sometimes. 

To have a built-in community despite moving around, to have an endless amount of resources for spiritual growth of my own and my children (children's Bibles, devotionals, tv shows, curriculum, etc.), to have children's programs (hello, VBS), and, not to mention, to have convenient answers for many of life's difficulties. 

I'm jealous because almost with the flip of a switch, my friend has been able to jump right into a thriving community the likes of which I desperately wish I could have as well. That is what bothers me: I want what she has been able to get. 

Being honest, and authentic, is tough. It's tough to jump in with an opposing viewpoint when so many around you might think the same way. It's tough to make yourself vulnerable when you admit that you don't have all the answers, or that no, you don't fit into the same box that this friend, and that friend, and that lady down the street fit into. 

Being honest is tough.

Being authentic is hard.

But being something I'm not is simply impossible.

So, even with all my mixed feelings about it, I hope my friend is on a path that brings her more peace, more friends, and more happiness. I'm finding those things too, on this path of my own.

Isn't that what life is all about?

Living in the tank: Why sometimes it's tempting to hide from the world.

I recently purchased a book from Amazon: "The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have" by Mark Nepo. I got it because one of my favorite parenting podcasts (shoutout to Zen Parenting Radio!) mentioned it and said it was in a format in which you read a little something each day of the year. I thought it would be great to have a little pick-me-up or thought-for-the-day each morning, so I bought the Kindle version.

It's amazing when the universe sends you a great, big "Hello!" or "Yes, I'm right here with you." The daily reading for this morning, January 9th, couldn't have been more well-timed.

Yesterday, I found myself feeling a bit weighted down, or overwhelmed, by the world. Life is hard. Even if you have all of your basic needs met, extra money... an "easy" life, there always seem to be things that are difficult to deal with. There is always something that demands our energy.

And sometimes, I just want to hide from it all. It's too difficult.

Today's reading was about fish who were moved from their tank to a bathtub while their tank was being cleaned. Instead of swimming in this giant, new body of water, the fish stayed huddled together in an area of tub the same size as their tank.

"Life in the tank made me think of how we are raised at home and in school. It made me think of being told that certain jobs are not acceptable and that certain jobs are out of reach, of being schooled to live in a certain way, of being trained to think that only practical things are possible, of being warned over and over that life outside the tank of our values is risky and dangerous. 

It makes me wonder now, in middle age, if being spontaneous and kind and curious are all parts of our natural ability to swim. Each time I hesitate to do the unplanned or unexpected, or hesitate to reach and help another, or hesitate to inquire about something I know nothing about; each time I ignore the impulse to run in the rain or to call you up just to say I love you - I wonder, am I turning on myself, swimming safely in the middle of the tub?" - Mark Nepo

I was swimming in my tank yesterday. I didn't want to leave and go out into the world because it just seemed.... unswimmable.

Creating and nurturing friendships, raising good children, injecting more good into the world, becoming part of my community... it all takes so much energy and to be honest, it's really scary sometimes.

This is exactly the reason I have always felt a connection to something greater than myself.

"From lying to explosive anger to addiction to the inability to forgive to overwhelming helplessness in the face of tragedy to the constant, gnawing anxiety that won't go away to the haunting sense that you're not good enough no matter how hard you work and what you achieve, when we're talking about God, we're talking about the very real sense we have that we do not, on our own, have everything we need and we are not, on our own, everything we could be." (Rob Bell, "What We Talk About When We Talk About God")

I believe we were all made to swim in the ocean, but at times, doing so requires that we draw upon an energy that is greater than our own.

God helps me leave my tank.

So when I'm feeling weighed down by the world, I want to try to remember that I don't have to tackle everything on my own. I was made to swim. And there is an endless source of hope, love, and wisdom to tap into if I'm willing to do so.

On why religion and spirituality need each other.

iStock/Pete Will

We've all heard the phrase, "spiritual, but not religious." In fact, I have felt comfortable being placed in this category for the past decade. Being spiritual, for me, meant feeling a connection to something greater than myself while not feeling comfortable within a religious community. I knew there was more to life, but I didn't believe I needed religion to find it. This path led me to a more peaceful and confident place than I ever found by going to church. And over the years I've realized that my religion was missing one incredibly important thing for me - the thing that would have been a game-changer for my willingness to stay there: my own spirituality. 

In a recent Pew report, nearly 1 in 5 Americans described themselves as "spiritual, but not religious." Researchers found that for most religiously unaffilated participants in the study, "their views of churches and other religious organizations are decidedly mixed. A majority agree that religious organizations strengthen community bonds and play an important role in helping the poor and needy. But most also say that religious organizations are too concerned with money and power, too focused on rules and too involved in politics." Did you hear about the German bishop who installed a $20,000 tub in his home? Not hard to see where some of that frustration with religion/money/power comes from.

Despite the apparent divide between the spiritual and religious, these two words weren't always used exclusively. 

"Before the 20th century the terms religious and spiritual were used more or less interchangeably. But a number of modern intellectual and cultural forces have accentuated differences between the 'private' and 'public' spheres of life. The increasing prestige of the sciences, the insights of modern biblical scholarship, and greater awareness of cultural relativism all made it more difficult for educated American to sustain unqualified loyalty to religious institutions. Many began to associate genuine faith with the 'private' realm of personal experience rather than with the 'public' realm of institutions, creeds, and rituals. The word spiritual gradually came to be associated with a private realm of thought and experience while the word religious came to be connected with the public realm of membership in religious institutions, participation in formal rituals, and adherence to official denominational doctrines." (Fuller, Robert C.)

Spirituality became something that people could do on their own, while religion was something that people did together. This is where I believe spirituality trumps religion. Spirituality is uniquely personal. It's the heart and soul of what we are as human beings. It's what we know - in our core - to be our truth, and it's what we feel when we are witness to miraculous moments. That gnawing feeling that we are a tiny part of something very grand. 

"Spirituality exists wherever we struggle with the issue of how our lives fit into the greater cosmic scheme of things. This is true even when our questions never give way to specific answers or give rise to specific practices such as prayer or meditation. We encounter spiritual issues every time we wonder where the universe comes from, why we are here, or what happens when we die. We also become spiritual when we become moved by values such as beauty, love, or creativity that seem to reveal a meaning or power beyond our visible world. An idea or practice is "spiritual" when it reveals our personal desire to establish a felt-relationship with the deepest meanings or powers governing life." (Fuller, Robert C.)

I'm sure many people who consider themselves religious are up in arms over my saying that spirituality trumps religion. However, I'm not saying that being religious can't be powerful, transformative, and life-changing. I just have this sinking feeling that there are many religious people who do not feel an innate connection with God. They do not feel loved and cherished by the divine. ...But they DO go to church. They do perform religious rituals. They do consider themselves part of a religious community. And they are going through the actions of religion without really feeling connected to that which religion was made to connect us to. 

You can be spiritual, without being religious. And you can be religious, without being spiritual. Which is worse? 

One of my favorite people, the Reverend Ed Bacon, taped this interview with Oprah for Super Soul Sunday back in 2011. Listen to what he says about being spiritual and being religious.

To be spiritual is to be on a search to know God. Whether you've been going to church your whole life or haven't ever stepped in one, religion will not transform your life until your heart is open to spirit - until you realize that you are a spiritual being having a human experience. 

So it's great to be spiritual, right? But wait.... 

"Spirituality without action is fruitless and social action without spirituality is heartless." - Rev. Ed Bacon

Too often, being "spiritual, but not religious" keeps us from being in community with others. If we feel connected to God, or the Divine, don't we want to share that with others? And I don't mean in an evangelical sense (heck no!), but in the sense that the love and good energy we feel can radiate outward to those around us. A connection to God naturally fills us with compassion, love, and goodwill toward others. And while we can spread these things on our own, just think of how much more we can accomplish when we work with others?

"Spirituality is an emotion. Religion is an obligation. Spirituality soothes. Religion mobilizes. Spirituality is satisfied with itself. Religion is dissatisfied with the world. Religions create aid organizations; as Nicholas Kristof pointed out in a column in the New York Times two years ago: the largest U.S.-based international relief and development organization is not Save the Children or Care, it’s World Vision, a Seattle-based Christian group." (Rabbi David Wolpe, TIME magazine)

I would be willing to bet that for every kind of spiritual person out there, there is a community somewhere that would welcome you with open arms. Religious communities NEED you. And, it's quite possible you need them. Being part of a community puts us into an arena with others, challenging what we have held to be true. We will never know all the answers with 100% certainty, and communities can help us to continue our search with new perspectives and possibilities. Though I don't feel like anything is a perfect fit, I have been able to find a home within the Unitarian Universalist community (www.uua.org - yep, shameless plug) where I feel like my spirituality is nurtured. I want to be part of a community, and I want my children to know that they are part of something larger than themselves. These days, I might describe myself as "spiritual AND religious." For me, they are becoming one in the same. 

I'm not so sure I've made sense of all this spirituality and religion stuff - it's obviously a tricky subject. But I hope I've gotten your wheels turning a bit. What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts.