At my favorite Saturday morning meeting yesterday the table topic for discussion was spirituality. Of course, once it got to be my turn every insightful, witty and poignant remark I was saving up flew out of my head so all I did was talk a bit about religion (not the same thing) and pass. As I drove away after the meeting what I really wanted to say came back to me, and it was this:
Spirituality is in the little things. Those moments when my heart overflows with joy gazing at my sleeping daughters' faces. Brushing my eldest's cheek to wake her in the morning, seeing her smile when she sees me gazing at her. Having my youngest jump in my lap for a brief hug. Looking up at a clear blue sky in the beginnings of spring. Dancing and singing to a favorite song. Stroking one of my many cats' fur as they purr, contentedly beside me.
I know God exists, even if I can't define him/her/it. I know it every time I see or think of my children. I don't how to connect to God, I don't know how to pray or meditate or worship but I know that God is out there. That's my spirituality.