Woo-woo confession

I’m going to admit to being more “woo-woo” than I’ve ever admitted to anyone outside of my close circle of friends. I was raised in a very strict religious environment that was full of rules about the way the world is. Anything outside of these rules was condemned. I know the people who preached the condemnation mostly did so out of concern for our eternal souls. Truly believing that we would burn for eternity in hell fire, they did everything they could to prevent that fate. What it did for me was instill a fear of anything that didn’t fit in their paradigm.

The spiritual path is beautiful, ugly, profound and ordinary all at once. It comes full of elusive aspirations, emotional dramas, transcendent bliss and everything else in between – and frankly, it can sometimes feel like living in a terrifying hell, or in a pristine heaven, or at other times just simply boring and pointless.

Last Tuesday, I was sitting on my bed, working on my laptop, when I heard a helicopter just outside my window. Looking up, I saw the helicopter carrying a basket, as it flew to the rocky beach and craggy cliffs where I hike every day. Boats were zipping around the surf, and sirens were blaring, as rescue vehicles drove up a fire road onto the cliffside coastal trail.