12. Selective Spirituality is OK.

I was never too connected to my roots. At most, I’d slip in an out of cultural appreciation when cultural festivals were around the corner, or I’d occasionally look out into the nature and wonder how the world around us came to be. But sometimes I’d feel guilty for feeling entitled to these thoughts of awe and amazement at the universe- I thought I was the least spiritual person on the planet.

I used to roll my eyes when people I knew talked about spiritual matters. I tuned it out. I thought being spiritual was lame or unrealistic. The world was just a result of chemical reactions to me. But sometimes, I realized it was a result of beautiful and awe-inspiring chemical reactions. I was under some angsty impression of myself that getting spiritual once in a while just didn’t fit my vibe.

But more recently, I’ve realized it’s a blessing to see some of the things we see. I’ve gotten more in touch with my emotional side, and a lot more things move me than they did before. Maybe it’s because I’m spending less time doing and more time thinking. Or maybe this is just something that naturally happens as we get older. We experience more, and we realize what matters to us more. This process of getting in touch with myself and learning from experiences was always happening, but I first actively recognized it when I was in Switzerland.

Every moment of that trip gave me the perfect escape to discover new things and become one with nature. We began our day with kayaking on the lake. Some people raced on their kayaks, others took dunks into the cold, crystal clear water, but I chose to just bask in it (but I probably should have also helped my partner paddle and steer a little bit). The sun glistened right between the mountaintops and the only noise was that of nature, for it was the early hours of the morning. I felt so small compared to the gorgeous landscape that surrounded me. Just writing about it takes me back to that clear lake. That hour or two that we spent kayaking was probably one of my most happy and relaxing memories to this date. I felt connected to nature and even more so with myself. I had no other thoughts beside the beauty of where I was.

The rest of the morning was equally spiritual, but in a new sense. We stumbled upon a large cathedral, and we decided to take a look inside. A few members of our group were Catholic, so the visit was more than just a tourist stop. To the rest of us, it was just another cathedral with cool architecture. However, something was different. I didn’t just want to sit in the pew and wait until my Catholic friends were “done”. We walked closer to the front of the cathedral, where newly lit candles adorned a wooden table. It wasn’t something I hadn’t seen before, but it was something I never questioned. One of the Catholics in our group explained to us the concept of the candles. Visitors come by the cathedral and have wishes or prayers they hope to be answered. Things they want resolved or to see happen. They light a candle for each of those thoughts and place it along the walls or tables with the others. Throughout the day, the candles burn and fill up the table.

This is definitely a simplified explanation, but the concept still struck me. It wasn’t a unique concept- Hinduism has something similar in its temples and I’m sure other religions have similar practices. So many different people, from diverse backgrounds and ages come to one place to find peace or spirituality. Some may have simpler problems than others. Regardless, throughout the day, the number of tiny candles grows and creates a beautiful, warm flickering in the large room. This was hope, in the form of candles. This was the first time I thought about the word “hope” as warm and inspiring instead of empty and foolish. It wasn’t until then that I realized how little “hope” I imagined in my life. I thought about all the instances I was troubled and had nothing to rely on- what did I do then? I either gave up or ignored the problems- I didn’t hope for much especially when I knew the outcome was out of my hands.

I’m not trying to paint the picture that I didn’t value hope before this moment, but I actually didn’t have a separate mental definition to distinguish “hope” from positivity and ambition. I viewed “hope” as a religious thing, and a combination of positivity and ambition as the realistic means of achieving the things you could otherwise “hope” for. Being in that cathedral humbled me into remembering that sometimes, things just really aren’t in our control. Not everything is solved by positivity and ambition. Again, I felt so small compared to the vast space I was in. So small in comparison to the other troubles that people faced around me.

My thoughts aren’t that deep, and that’s what made me guilty for them. Sometimes I assume places of worship or places of certain spiritual significance are reserved for appreciation from people who feel deep and connected 24/7. But during my trip, I realized not many people actually feel so connected 24/7. There’s very few days that I think deep and look beyond the physical for support or reliance, and that’s okay. All that matters is that we take time to understand the beliefs of others and figure out what we believe in ourselves. It’s time to stop feeling guilty for the random spurts of gratefulness I get. You are no less human or no more human for feeling more in touch with something new once in a while.