Even If You Don’t Believe

The other day I was watching folks walking in the public market.  They were all focused on some particular task; gathering plums for lunch, picking just the right corn for dinner, and parsing through heaps of greens for their daily salads.  Each one of them was full of volition, had grown unique preferences over their on average thirty to sixty years, and I deduced were living a life of some meaning—enough so that locally grown food was important to them.  And it dawned on me that despite their unique tastes and differences, every one of them had made their way to this world beginning with a common spiritual event—conception.

I found this thought intriguing because of a conversation I often find myself privy to—one  in which two or more are assessing whether so and so is “spiritual person”.  Standing there at the market, the question suddenly seemed moot.  Why would it matter whether someone is spiritually inclined, i.e.) believes we have a soul or that things happen for a reason, or is into healing?  When irregardless of their philosophical orientation, they, just like spiritually inclined people, came from some invisible and unexplainable place too?

I think this is important because in our current world of “othering”, where someone, because of how they express their spirituality is considered “awake/conscious/spiritual” (or not) and therefore “like us” (or not) we stand to gradually decrease the number of people we can relate to and trust.  In a time where shared humanity is one of the only common denominators that ensures we are safe with another, can’t we then imagine that that someone need not act like a psychic, swami, guru, healer, back-to-the-lander, or shaman in order to have our backs?

I naturally start thinking about Stan.  Stan grew up on the American prairie, grew wheat with his family.  He moved to the city to start a development company forty years ago, and now has had reason to travel the world.  When Stan travels for work, he often goes and stands in department stores in his free time, even if it’s in Japan, just to watch how people make decisions, what they seek, and how they attempt to find fulfilment.  He’s full of wisdom about how to grow a business, the best place to build a new building, and why cows lick things like salt blocks.   And wouldn’t you know it, he describes the intelligence of the prairies and of Japanese shoppers with pretty much the same insights as I would talk about the souls of trees and babies.  Stan is a spiritual person.  Why?  Because he’s lived through and paid attention to the world unfolding around him!  He doesn’t call call it by the same name, but what’s the difference?  His senses are open and he’s articulating what he senses.

Although I’m not going to call Stan to go with me to the Energetic Lightworkers Exhibition (not that I’d go myself probably, but you get my gist) I might ask him to come look at crystal exhibits with me,  seed fairs, or sustainable business conferences, because he would care, and likely teach me the world through his seasoned and sensitive eyes.  And isn’t that what I need?  A new perspective about things that matter to me?  And with different words and camera angles than I’ve ever thought to use?

Are there Stan’s in your life, who have seen some days, and despite all the allures to lose humanity, have kept their’s?  Who although they do not wear recycled bamboo or organic hemp, could perhaps tell you know where to see a salt lick?  Let’s consider making our circles not just wider, but more diverse, by including these “other” brethren, who although might not spend time researching and remembering their miraculous arrival of from “there to here”,  but who have come to hold the other camera angle of this beautiful and ever-changing phenomena of life that lie before us.