Spiritual Balance

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How do you find spiritual balance
Photo by RODNAE Productions from Pexels

Most of my life has been spent divided from my spiritual self, until one day, feeling hollow and adrift, I began my spiritual search. My search began obsessively, expensively, and I treated this sacred event like I was going after a new client. Like most of us, I was used to immediate answers in our fast-paced world of eating and running and instant computer search engine information. I calculated this spiritual search would take me less than six months.

Almost three years later I had trekked Tibet, run from rabid dogs in Kathmandu, had an audience with a Curandera in Peru who spit in my hair three times, had a vision quest with a Native American Indian in Sedona, saw dead people in Lily Dale, NY, had my palms interpreted by a former nun in Chicago, had life-altering visions with a shaman in Mexico. I had a past life regression, my aura tuned, my chakras aligned, my spirit guides channeled, my Kundalini awakened. I prayed in churches, temples, cathedrals, mosques, Mayan festivals, and l always, always on rickety buses, especially in India.

I made my spiritual quest my absolute focus and in doing so, ignored my friends, family, and husband, and almost lost my marriage. I was completely obsessed and spun out of spiritual control.

In a society engaged toward overindulgence, it can be difficult to attain balance in our spiritual lives – let alone the rest of our lives. An unbalanced spiritual life has the potential to spread disharmony into the remaining areas of our lives, no matter how governed they might be.

Just as our health and well-being hinge upon balanced nutritional habits, our spiritual patterns must be in balance to boost complete harmony through every area of our lives. Harmony is about finding our sweet spot and being okay with it. Anyone who has ever achieved true harmony can attest to how incredible it feels. One feels on purpose. Time stops. Brilliance surfaces. One thrives. Maintaining harmony is the guide for helping us make choices that will bring the highest levels of fulfillment.

How do spiritual practices get unbalanced? When we spend either insufficient or immoderate time involved in spiritual quests as I did.

Today I find spiritual balance attainable when I follow some simple suggestions.

  • Be content to be on a journey. One of the reasons people get swept off by their spiritual practices is because they experience an imperative motive to “arrive there” – the place where they will find content and sated spiritually. An authentic spiritual seeker will not arrive anywhere. The point is to enlist in a lifelong process of development and growth. Keeping this in mind may help us feel better about decompressing because there is nothing to rush towards – we are already at that place, smack-dab in the middle of the formula, which is precisely where we want to be.
  • Spiritual knowledge solely is not sufficient. As beneficial as it can feel to at last be engaged in our spiritual self, we also need to fortify and systematically reinforce the other connections in our lives.
  • Maintain spiritual balance by spending time with the ones we love, and build friendships outside of our spiritual circle. Don’t worry if your friends and family don’t share the same spiritual beliefs, most of mine don’t and we still manage to have zany and meaningful times.
  • Less is more. Instead of trying to absorb heavy quantities of spiritual knowledge in a brief time period, make it a target, to begin with, bite-sized pieces.
  • Relish spiritual wisdom and insights like they were made up of pieces of delicious chocolate. Allow them to hang around on the tongue (in our mind and spirit). Take your time absorbing them. Just like consuming a meal, we will savor the knowledge we acquire much more whenever time is spent absorbing it instead of gobbling it down so quickly that it cannot be tasted or enjoyed.

The longer we continue on a spiritual path, the more at ease and balanced we will become. Try something different this year and keep the balance between the spiritual self and the rest of our life.

Have any Feng Shui questions? Feel free to contact me at michelle@michellecromer.com and sign up for your Power Color. Visit me on Facebook at Michelle Cromer Feng Shui.

Reality Shows and Men’s Rite of Passage

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“We cannot, today, recreate the original ‘wilderness man’ in shape, form and habitat. But we can recover him, because he exists in us. He is the foundation in spirit or psyche on which we build, and we are not complete until we have recovered him.” Laurens van der Post

It seems most of the men I know are watching reality shows like, “Survivor” or “Survivor Man,” programs about living and existing with no food, no shelter and no fresh water. I would rather watch paint dry than watch something like this, but it occurs to me that there is something missing out of these men’s lives, something primal, perhaps it’s an initiation experience, an ancient ritual no longer present in our modern world.

Many traditional cultures escorted their young men into the world of adulthood and the sacred through an elaborate series of rituals. These rituals occurred in space set apart from the rest of the community and took place over many weeks or months. Preparation for initiation was often extensive and included witnessing the ongoing life of the people and observing the qualities displayed by men of spirit. Underneath and holding up this initiatory process was a deep and abiding relationship to nature and the spirits of the place. This passage was also rooted in a nearly endless succession of generations that had come to learn the necessity of such a transition.

The awareness for this is essentially universal: a process of intense focus, communal reflection and immersion in the natural and supernatural worlds must shape a man’s soul. In other words, to become a man, certain gateways needed to be crossed in order for that territory to be fully embedded within the man.

An additional value of initiation for modern men concerns the need to reestablish a link with the wild. Some say this constitutes a regression to the past, while others see it as an opportunity to sanction a letting go of restraint. While these two options are intriguing, they are nonetheless far from what is being advocated. Thoreau said, “In wildness is the preservation of the world.” It is precisely this wildness that we are in search of, one that fosters an authenticity that is most like nature. The depth of conditioning that we are shaped by is immense and the levels of crippling self-consciousness that results depletes a man until he lives a life, as Thoreau also said, “of quiet desperation.” The world is in great need of men who live genuinely and who are willing to stand outside of consensus reality and speak words of truth.

Initiation experiences are archetypal as well as deeply spiritual. They have been a part of the human journey for thousands of years and act as a rite of passage. This experience represents a very specific archetypal journey meant to challenge you to discover unknown power with in you. Extreme conditions are either chosen – as in going on a Walk About when a young Aboriginal man comes of age, or presented to you through unseen life events such as illness, accidents, family death, divorce or any other life circumstance that starts a person on this extraordinary experience. As is often the case today, most people do not even recognize that they are on an initiatory experience, as it is a spiritual journey hidden within the chaos of ordinary life. In fact, chaos is required for our lives to unfold.

These reality shows demand that the people confront their own weaknesses or be consumed by them. You can only come to believe in the power of your spirit – and the Spirit – by needing that power yourself to survive. Then you can speak about that power with respect and reverence, and the Spirit will assist you because you understand how to pray with humility.

Maybe these reality shows are worth seeing. Well, if you’re a man anyway.

Depth

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seedling

“It is not the length of life, but depth of life.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

I grew up with rocks. I had bags and bags of my treasured rocks in our garage and each had it’s own unique story. Every paperweight was a rock; gifts I gave were rocks; even refrigerator magnets were rocks – shiny pieces of polished quartz that I loved to rub with my thumb, or tiny bits of black lava that had been expelled from an ancient volcano.

I thought I wanted to be a geologist: someone who looks beneath the surface, someone who tries to make the invisible visible. I grew up not only with rocks but also with time, measured not in days or weeks but in millions of years.

There is something about the earth that invites you to dig. I really used to think that if I could dig hard enough and long enough, I would eventually get to China. When I got older I realized that wasn’t real, and that my imagination wasn’t satisfied with geological truth and that the digging I wanted to do couldn’t be done with a shovel.

My fascination with geology came from the feeling that not only was there more to the earth than could be seen on the surface, there was more to me. What I really wanted to be was a geologist of the soul.

Depth. That which is below – deep below the surface. Surface is the sand along the beach that blows in the wind. Depth is the rock underneath. Surface is easy – not much effort needed to find it and not very rewarding when you do. Depth is more difficult. Sometimes it emerges on it’s own, but you normally have to look for it. You have to dig.

Surface is static. Sterile. Frozen. Plant a seed in it, and it never grows. Depth evolves. Depth is turning towards something, looking for something. Depth is a process – a voyage from the outside to the inside. Depth doesn’t just happen. We have to make mistakes. We have to go on a journey. That creates depth.

I became a writer because I thought it was the only way to find the truth about myself – to dig, deep down below the surface, searching for my own interior, for ancient layers inside of me. Searching for depth, searching for my spirit, longing for a connection with my soul.

Spirit in mythology and traditional cosmology is connected to the elements of fire and air, and it rises, reaching up and out. Soul is connected to the elements of water and earth, and it descends, inward and downward. When we rise with spirit, we get peak experiences and those overviews of life that include moments of freedom. Soul goes the opposite way. Water runs down. The earth has gravity and pulls us to it. The soul wants us to grow down and become deep like a river. The real connections are not surface connections. You can have many friends on Facebook, but your real friends are those who know and support your deep self and will remind you when you’re losing touch with your own soul.

What is often missing in modern mass culture is this depth of connection. When you see a culture dividing into simplistic polarities — which is all of our politics nowadays — what’s going on is a loss of soul. People who are in touch with their soul know what they’re supposed to be doing in the world. They know what their way of contributing to life is in the same way that people know what music they love and what food they enjoy — not just life-sustaining food, but food that has flavor, that makes you feel nourished, even inspired.

As I continue my voyage below the surface I have discovered ways that help me cultivate depth: having a personal experience with the holy; being more contemplative; having a relationship to the mysterious things in life; slowing way down; finding an artist outlet; connecting to the wisdom of the past; and then I go outside. And I dig up rocks.

Laughing With Cancer

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“Laughter is the tonic, the relief, the surcease for pain,” Charlie Chaplin

Laying on the gurney, hooked up to my IV, I waited for my doctor to call with my pathology report telling me my cancer is gone and clearing me for facial reconstruction surgery. Three surgeries in three days to remove the spreading melanoma on my right cheek had left a huge hole in my in my face which would require a complicated five hour flap surgery to close it up. My son August, with me through surgeries was making me howl with laughter. When I finally got the call, I turned to August and said, “My cancer is gone! Some of my friends may call or text you during my surgery to see how I am doing.” August dryly responded, “Can I tell them you’re dead?” It was just what I needed to send me into surgery laughing. August asked me for any parting words as the anesthesiologist wheeled me down the hall, and I responded, “Can I get you anything while I’m out?”

Cancer isn’t funny. The scar that takes up about 25% of my face, changing the way I look forever isn’t funny. Waiting to hear staging and if the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes wasn’t funny. But I’m funny. And I knew if I was going to make through this journey I had to connect to my core, to show up and just be me, and find the humor surrounding this horrific situation. And I did.

When I witnessed the shock that my friends had when they saw the aftermath of how cancer affected my looks they were speechless. My humor eased the tension, allowing my friends and family to be more encouraging and supportive.

Everywhere I went I took my humor with me. At one point I thought I might have to have a skin graft to cover the gaping hole on my face and I asked the doctor where the skin for the skin graft comes from. He said it might come from the back of my neck or from my hips. When I asked him if I could pay a young nurse to donate skin he looked at me in shock and I busted out laughing.

When I came home with forty stitches on my face I made the decision not to hide out in my home, but to carry on with life especially since my doctors said I could. One morning I got my car washed and when I walked up to tip the young man drying my car he took one look at me and said, “Oh my goodness! Were you in a knife fight? What happened to the other guy?” I handed him his tip and as I got in my car I said, “I don’t know, I just got out of jail.”

Genuine humor works completely from the inside out. It’s a nebulous entity, changing every time you use it. Humor isn’t a noun that you keep in your pocket and take out at parties. It exists in everything we do and it requires us to pay attention in order to spot the opportunity to illuminate it for others.

In whatever form you find it, humor is contagious. A smile begets a smile. A laugh begets a laugh. So, if you know someone with cancer and you want to lift their spirits just start with a smile and laughter won’t be far off. A smile – genuine humor – is such an important gateway to help someone feel better. Laughter can provide a sense of perspective when you are facing challenging circumstances and help release pent –up emotions. Laughter may also help reduce depression and anxiety and increase self-esteem, energy, resilience and hope.

My cancer journey is reminding me that I don’t need to live strong, I just need to live on my own terms and that means discovering the humor in all situations. There may be no proof that laughter can improve your health, but I have no doubt that it can improve your life.

Going Barefoot as a Spiritual Practice

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earth healing

“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

If you ever had the chance to enter my closet, you would realize two things about me: I love shoes and I might have a shoe addiction problem. I have more shoes and cowboy boots than all my friends combined; and I have a lot of friends. But after returning from two weeks in Costa Rica I have decided to spend most of the summer barefoot.

I learned that Costa Rica is at the top of the world, the lone contender from the Americas in environmental performance distinguished in March this year for it’s environmental sustainability by the United Nations. Costa Rica’s relationship with Mother Earth is both remarkable and respectful and I found myself wanting to connect to Her in the same way. So I took my shoes off. And I kept them off. Aside from when I was at the beach or my backyard, I can’t remember when I last spent one day barefoot, much less several.

What I experienced from walking around without shoes was profound. Being barefoot creates presence. Mind chatter dissipates. The animals seemed to be less suspicious. I noticed sounds, smells and saw more detail as I slowly walked. And I discovered the earth is soft, so soft in fact that it deeply moved me. The temperature of the dirt changed step after step depending on the tree cover over me and the leaf litter under me. The moisture, the rocks, the shade, the direction of the wind. It all mattered. With each step I felt met by Mother Earth. Supported. Held up. And something I never expected, I felt better. I noticed improved circulation in my feet and ankles. My neck and shoulders lost all the tension they seem to always have. I had better posture and better balance. It’s amazing to me how wearing shoes has separated me from so much of what I am a part of.

When I returned home I continued my barefoot practice. It’s simple, convenient, and heart opening. It’s a mindfulness spiritual practice that uses our feet as connective soul bridges between body, mind and planet Earth. It raises our consciousness and raising consciousness in urban life is critical to sustaining the planet.

Our shoes distort our bodies’ feeling and function and also disconnect us from the earth. We don’t think about this, working in our offices behind non-opening windows, perched high above the earth on steel encased in concrete. We sleep and move in climate controlled homes and vehicles where we have to look at an instrument to know the temperature outside. Our lifestyle is more like life in submarine or spaceship than on Mother Nature, it seems. Conversely, there’s something primal, damp, sensual and connective about walking on the earth. Something of mystery. This is the thing I love about it: it redirects my abstract concerns. It plugs my attention into something much greater and more live-giving than the ridiculous flock of worries my mind generates.

We’re at a real crossroads now with Mother Earth, and need to change our relationship to Her. Recycling newspapers and buying hybrid cars isn’t going to do it because the mindset behind these well-intended changes still treats the planet as a commodity, a sort of gravel pit of resources for humans to plunder. We don’t need different ways to pillage the planet. We need different humans. A more evolved humanity that sees the ecological and spiritual implications of living as creatures in a much greater web of life all around us.

I’m not ready to kick my cowboy boots and Manolo Blahnik’s to the curb, but I do plan on spending most of the summer connecting to the earth’s chi by going barefoot.

When was the last time your bare feet hit the ground?

Michelle Cromer