As a pastoral counselor and psychology professor, I am aware that the way a person experiences God or the divine depends on the person. A great book about this (based on the Myers Briggs Personality types) is called, Who We Are Is How We Pray: Matching Personality and Spirituality by Charles Keating.
So, that said: Who am I? Well, I enjoy what my momma once termed, "deep, thinky thoughts." I could dive into abstract, intellectual discussions as if they were a calorie-free, vat of Nutella. I am innately and utterly drawn to those deep, thinky thoughts BUT are they the right route to spiritual development for me?
I'm thinkin' no. God, for me, has to be an experience, not an intellectual exercise. I can't access the spiritual in my head-- no matter how many dusty, old academic treatises I've read.
In comes: my dog. Perhaps like most, I glimpse Goodness and Grace through my pet. As an adult, I rarely have the feeling of losing myself with reckless abandon . . . UNLESS I am playing with my dog. That's FLOW for me. [See Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi]. That's tapping into the Tao in my world. Any other time I try to be in "flow," my heady, neurotic side ruins it, by constantly asking myself, "Am I in flow? Is this it? What about now?" and then I'm not in it.
My cat also communicated a bit of "what it's all about." When I first got her, she was a little rescue kitty that I couldn't bear to leave. I was alone, living in a rural area, in between jobs. She was IT for me. Then I had a collicky child and added a tasmanian-devil of a puppy to the mix and my poor cat was relegated to the bottom of the attention rung.
Now that my son (FINALLY) plays by himself a bit, I felt like I actually have a moment, a breather. So, I picked up my cat and it was just us again. Then it hit me with shame: it's been nearly five years since I've cuddled her and showered her with baby talk. (Luckily, my husband had picked up the slack). She was so grateful, so amenable, just appreciating and fully enjoying the moment.
I sadly realized that would NOT have been my reaction. I would have held a big, fat grudge: "You think you can cuddle me now after years of neglect, lady?" Whack! Tail up; strutt off with a "humpf!"
I've been spiritually outdone and humbled by my cat.
So . . . Learn from our wiser, furry friends: Enjoy the moment and dive into some Flow with reckless abandon.
1 comment:
I think I am in my "flow" when I play with kids when no other adults are around. I love to get crazy and act foolish with them. SOMEtimes I can do it in front of other adults...more and more as I get older. I had never thought about "flow" before but that example immediately popped into my head when you were talking about yours.
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