Spiritual growth must be fun.

Photo by Ian Martin Wedding Photojournalism. From my wedding in July 2014.

Photo by Ian Martin Wedding Photojournalism. From my wedding in July 2014.

I’ve had enough of spiritual seriousness. Yes, sometimes our spiritual adventures can be torturous processes, like you’re wading through an endless sea of muckety contracts-cords-personality structures-ego patterns-mental-emotional-residue muck. 

You know what I mean?

Sure, that work is important. But if spiritual growth is going to be sustainable in any way, it has to be FUN.

This morning I felt compelled to go through a meditation I love. I visualize meeting my future self, and she gives me guidance regarding the future. On this vision quest of sorts, I ask her for any pictures or guidance regarding what I could be doing right now to make my future self’s life better.

Today she showed me three things:

Sit.

Write.

Dance.

(She really gets down to business.)

Ok. Sitting I can do. I’ve been meditating since I was a kid, and while sometimes I hop off the bandwagon, it is normally pretty soon before I jump back on again. 

Writing I’ve been doing as well, but not consistently every day.

Dancing? Hell no.

I’m a serious spiritual person.

Why should I be dancing?

But listen, she said. There are spiritual gifts that live inside the body, and we can only access them through movement. 

She's pretty smart, I'd say.

So this morning, I danced I danced and I danced for what seemed like an eternity. 

I looked at the clock after what seemed like an eternity.

It had been 8 minutes. 

That many finger snaps? That many fist pumps? That many booty shakes?

Yep. Only 8 minutes. 

This was hard work. 

So I danced some more, and something cracked open. I felt like I could really start to hear my body so much more clearly. Move this way, she said. Try this.

For the first time, I started really paying attention to what my body likes when she's dancing. At first, I looked like Napoleon Dynamite. Gradually, I moved into a softer feminine that felt more like the squishy, soft me that I am. Fluid. Graceful. And yet...fun.

I made it another 10 minutes before calling it quits and moving into some stretching. Because that is what felt good. 

That is what she wanted. 

I’m going to keep trying this. Sit, write, dance. Sit, write, dance. Sit, write, dance. And we’ll see what happens. 

Meanwhile, I’ll see you on the dance floor.