Why your horse, motorcycle or bow & arrow are your spiritual path
You know how you’re supposed to meditate? Sit with your thoughts for an hour every day. Wait for the calm to descend, presence to arrive, enlightenment to come? Yeah, that.
I can’t do that. Okay, it’s not that I can’t do it, it’s that I don’t want to. It doesn’t call to me. It’s not my path. Neither are drugs that induce some kind of spiritual vision.
I can see. Plenty. Trust me.
My body is not a temple either, or a shrine. I’m not flat and taut where I should be.
My body is my home.
Lived in. Curvy. My tummy permanently stretched from birthing three beautiful children. Years of pressure and fatigue round my shoulders. Ripples of fat from enjoying eating and hiding from a disconnected marriage line my waist. No weight has come off my body from my divorce (off my spirit though, yes). My body has settled at a certain number and it’s fighting to maintain it. I vacillate between thinking I should lose weight and knowing that to live as powerful a life as I live, I need to physically take up space.
So here I am.
I eat healthier than I used to, but I have no rules. Food is meant to be enjoyed. I enjoy hamburgers and cake and ice cream and salads. And potatoes.
I don’t look like what a New Age person, a being of Light should look like.
Or do I?
I don’t have a guru. I don’t want a guru.
I don’t need a guru.
I came into this lifetime with a deep trust in my Self, strong intuition, guidance, and unflinching trust in it. I listen and learn from others, yes.
But overall, I’m a spiritual rebel. I quit organized religion. I designed my lifestyle to align with my values. I have been mercifully gifted with not needing anyone to approve something I know to be my own truth.
Which is why it doesn’t bother me that I don’t meditate. It doesn’t bother me that my spirituality is being alone in the woods, connected to Source, sending arrows towards a target from my recurve. (By the way, it’s archery that saved me during my divorce. It gave my body back to myself. It also built my shoulders.)
Here is what I see. Too many people think spirituality has to look like, well, spirituality. What about the more physical aspects of spirituality?
As a high-performing creative, I spend most of my time in a world of words, characters, plots, story arcs, drama. As a highly successful freelance writer and sole provider for my family, I’m immersed in the corporate world of global marketing. As a guide to combat veterans, I spend most of my time drawing on Source and intuition to deeply listen to the warrior’s heart, hold space, and fight for the lives and futures of my warfighters. As a mom, I educate and guide my children toward their own creative paths.
I am an old soul. I remember past lifetimes. Sometimes I pray to a God I don’t really believe in anymore, but I need to pray. I sense and move and feel and live in the realm of spirit more than anything else.
Which is why archery is my spiritual path.
I need the physical to be my spiritual.
It’s why riding a motorcycle is the path for so many warriors and warrior-creatives. It’s why horses touch my soul more than any other animal and why any time I get to spend with them is more healing than years of therapy ever would be. It’s why we have to stop looking for the definition of spirituality outside of ourselves and define it on our own.
For me, it’s that which makes me feel most alive. Sending rounds of arrows toward the target, listening to the trees and birds as I retrieve them, and challenging myself over and over. Sweating. Swatting at mosquitoes. Feeling the cool relief of the breeze on the nape of my neck.
Isn’t that what spirituality is? Living by spirit in a way that makes you feel lit up inside, connected, fully in your power, free and liberated and here?