A “Religious” Walk Home

One night, while walking home from my small Swiss village of Worb, I had an intense “religious” experience.  This experience prompted childhood memories of my past and gave my present-day desires and future longings a place and time to be experienced.

The pathway home was lit only by the full moon’s reflective light, which reminded me of walking down a dark Pennsylvania road as a boy, wanting nothing more than to know who I was in relation to this big world.  At the same time, the dark Swiss countryside was calling me to be present not only to my desires of today but also to my cravings for what is yet to come.

The trickling water of the distant creek gave my intense desires the adequate means to move freely from my past to my present and then to my future.  The stillness of the air emptied my mind so that there was ample space for the transcendent to reign.  While the walk itself, up the steep hill, ignited the cravings within my heart…cravings to live and to love.

I have been asked many times why I am so “religious.”  I never have an answer, whether it is directly asked or implied by other means.  Maybe it is because, at times, I detect condescension in the question by those who think of themselves as not having to be “religious,” or maybe it is my fears and insecurities of being labeled that keep me from speaking.  Either way, I never seem to answer.

During these times, to be called “religious” comes with connotations, assumptions, and projections that may or may not have anything to do with the reality of truth.  A truth that I have found has more to do with reality than fantasy.

For example, there is an assumption that those who call themselves “religious” are pie in the sky kind of people who are not rooted in everyday life.  In other words, they are above the messiness of life, so every day seems to be the best day of their lives as they walk around with perma-grins on their faces.  Another assumption is that “religious” people are above the fray of desire itself, as if they are numb to the human experience.  Either way, the assumption is that being “religious” means that you are not in touch with reality.

Although many so-called “religious” people might project this view, this is a reality I do not relate to.

My days are full of happiness, anger, self-centeredness, service to others, pride, humility, lust, and love.  It is a mixed bag of extreme desires.  Desires found in everyday relationships and experiences yet transformed by the divine.  Consequently, I have found that being “religious” is not a threat to my humanity. Instead, it is necessary to give context to an immensely enriching life.  It provides the venue to live “normal” moments at a fever pitch.

Some might call this experience more spiritual than religious. The walk home the other night was spiritual, but at its core, it was “religious.” I have found that spiritual moments, left alone, can become orphans to a more profound truth and products of my ego.

The walk home the other night was a “religious” one.  It was a “religious” one because its context can be found on an altar.  An altar that is not regulated to time.

The walk that sparked my desires for the past, present, and future 20 minutes up a hill in Switzerland has its home outside me.  A home in which my desires are seen, known, and experienced within the “Everlasting Instant.”