***PSA: I wrote this mid 2019 and was actually what I initially had Gaby read, which propelled her to open up her platform for my voice to be heard and you all to read my writing. My first post on December 2019 was actually written several months after this one. And I hope you’ll be happy to know, that I no longer feel these feelings which is why I’m currently comfortable sharing this with you. I hope you enjoy my first written piece. Thank you.***
Thinking back on the cool evening when my mom was telling us stories of her childhood when she was supposedly guided by a spirit woman with white hair - whom may or may not have been her great-grandmother - I wonder why I never received a guide. My great-grandmother supposedly foretold my gender and birth before anyone else knew, and then died four days before I was born. How come she hasn’t come to me? My mom said she stopped seeing her guide when she got with my dad. Is that where I went wrong? Is it because I started dating such a man so early on? Is it because of sex? Is it because I’ve been intimately tarnished since young? Did I never have a chance at all? I’m so desperate for spiritual guidance. It isn’t fair. I need someone to help me too. Someone to tell me about the world and how to walk among it. Why hasn’t the white haired woman visited me? I just need some answers.
My mom said that back then she could see people’s deaths on their faces...what does that even mean, ma? How come I can’t see? She once prayed for a boy at home, and he said he could see her beside his hospital bed every day, like she was there. Was that really the power of prayer? Honestly, I don’t know if I could handle experiencing things like that, but still I crave deeply for real answers with regards to myself, the world around me, and the unknown. My recent experiences have so thoroughly shaken my spiritual self, that I am now grasping at straws. Little threads of emotion and authenticity in life that point me towards some sense of spiritual resonance. That connect me to the higher power I so desperately need to believe in and become closer to. The earth I feel deeply connected to and in awe of when viewing a measly little splash of color or witness any sign of life in full motion.
I thought I needed a “come to Jesus” moment to explain why I’ve been feeling so lost. It was supposed to get me some much needed answers. KT Tunstall’s “Suddenly I see” would be playing in the background, and I’d be encompassed by a feeling of full understanding. I’d be knowledgeable. I’d have my answers. But it didn’t happen. Instead I felt stifled and wrong. I couldn’t fit and Jesus was an even bigger stranger to me. God was even further away. Even more unreachable. Even more terrifying and unrelenting. Even more un-moving and un-accepting. Even more unloving. Every story I read, every lesson learned, every principle deciphered, just seemed to solidify how unworthy I was. Stamped it. Made it clear as day for myself and all those around me.
But, now that I no longer subscribe to that level of belittling, now that religion no longer has a hold of me, I am questioning myself. My essence. My existence. What does it mean to be spiritual? How does one find the right pieces to fit just right on the puzzle that is spiritualism? How do you spiritual? The adjective, not the noun. The Oxford Dictionary defines the adjective "spiritual" as relating to or affecting the human spirit or soul as opposed to material or physical things. But really, what does that even mean? A quick google search led me to an article entitled "What does it mean to be a spiritual person?" What DOES it mean, Margaret Paul, PhD? Please, enlighten me. I'm begging.
Margaret says "Being a spiritual person is synonymous with being a person whose highest priority is to be loving to yourself and others. A spiritual person cares about people, animals and the planet. A spiritual person knows that we are all One, and consciously attempts to honor this Oneness. A spiritual person is a kind person." Is that true? God, I hope it's true. If it is, I am basically the epitome of spiritual. I'm killing it. I am the embodiment of it all. Spiritual is me.
You don't understand how often I too have been "tired of this church." You don't understand how often I have been confused, puzzled and befuddled by my inability to feel the holy spirit around me. You don't understand how often I have questioned who I was speaking to mid-prayer. Should I believe in spirits, or not? Is that what I'm missing? Is my disbelief in invisible beings my downfall? Is my skepticism about their presence the reason I didn't get a guide? I apologize, white-haired lady, I will try harder. Please come through and make me see. You just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it. Show me the way, be my guiding light, can't you see I'm lost? Help me find.
You see, at times, I feel too much. Am too aware. Delve too deeply into insight. In those moments, I feel the most alone. In those moments, I'm the most adrift. And I wonder about the wind and the earth and the sky's role. I focus on all the levels of every interaction. I dissect every feeling, every intention, every action. In those moments, I see more clearly while simultaneously being plunged further into the deep pit of confusion where all emotion is present at the same time. Where I am encompassed by anger and despair and sadness and weakness and uncertainty. Is that spiritual? That pit? Those feelings? That sight? Is that it?
Or is spiritual the awe-inspiring feeling from when you're suddenly struck with the beauty of life in full swing? When you're assaulted by a plethora of colors and feel the wind around you. When you smell a meal and see people going about their day? When the grass is splendidly green and the water feels fresh on your skin? When the sun shines brightly in your face and completes the unbelievable picture playing across the canvas assaulting your eyes? I bet that is spiritual. That's when I feel the closest to the earth. Is the earth spiritual? It has to be...right?
And Honestly, I’m only concerned with my spirituality because I’m disconnected. I don’t know when or how I realized it, but I’ve been an outsider in several spheres. I don’t quite fit. So I wonder if a supernatural being could help me decipher how to walk among the world. I am constantly having to navigate different spaces outside of myself. Each one has some sense of entitlement when it comes to me. Each one gets to define me. Each definition is more important, more correct than anything I could contribute to the conversation. And so I am left not being able to define myself. I am left not truly feeling a part of a community.
That above, is my excuse. My very own brand of "outcast." And don't we all have something like it? Sometimes we are too weird, too different from the norm, and we become misfits. Foreigners in our own supposed "homes". Strangers to our own supposed "people". I was mid-conversation with a friend once, and I don't remember what I said, but he stopped me just to repeat the word I uttered in a tone that exuded surprise. I said "yes, that is how I speak." And he said I was "eccentric." I explained that he was just trying to find a nice word for weird but he didn't want to admit it. So, as all children of the millennium do, I googled the word. And google says the word eccentric means "unconventional and slightly strange." So you see, I am "slightly" strange. And honestly, I like it. I mean, I might as well right? Lord knows I can't get away from it.
In the past I hated being called weird. I hated not fitting in. Those labels once left me feeling very inadequate. Sub-par. Unworthy. Cue in J. Cole's “love yourself, girl, or nobody will. Oh you a woman? I don't know how you deal.” It’s okay. I'll be eccentric and I will love it. Wear it like a badge of honor. I don’t need you to guide me, white-haired lady, and God can continue to be elusive too. It’s okay. I have an inkling that I figured out my definition of spiritual on my own. I might've been spiritual all along. I think it lives in the same place where my "slightly-strange" resides. I think they feed each other. I think they coincide. I think I figured it out and my brand of outcast is really just what makes me, me. So, I will keep my head up. Continue trudging on. I will be strong. And always promise to be authentically, eccentrically me; because suddenly, I do see.
Thank You,
Carmen Hernandez
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