Stay Seated

I remember way back when I was a bible thumper. Nothing could pull me away from Jesus, the carefully curated services on Sunday mornings, the jingle of the collection plate, the shame I felt when I had no coins to give, the frustration of sitting through 2 or more hours of good preachin', like a shot of whisky to get me through the week. This was my childhood, dressing up in white tights, frilly lace dresses, Easter hats, shawls, and gloves, and if we had the extra money, a pair of white lace-trimmed socks would be worn over the tights and stuffed into black patent leather shoes to match the same plastic material purse. What was patent leather anyway?

And then college brought atheism-oh the heart attacks I caused my eighty-year-old aunt in South Carolina when I told her I don't go church. She probably spent a decade praying for my soul. It was the Marxism that did it to me. All that book learnin' as she would say.

But when adversity struck by way of a positive pap smear at the immortal age of 22, I thought death was surely coming. So I called out in my Wall Street office for the Lord. "Lord I'm sorry for going astray. If you just spare my life, I promise to be faithful." At that moment I desired a bible and to my surprise the Universe delivered. A sweet cleaning lady named Marie who went to a local church that the girl in the neighboring office also attended (and whose name was also Marie), knocked on my door and handed me a bible. I know I didn't actually call out but the desire was powerful. God answered with a little golden bible, right on time.

And so I did just that giving my existence to the Lord for over a decade. I prayed and fasted and studied until my depression got the best of me. After two stints in the psych ward and feeling listless about life, I knew something was missing. "God, was this it?" Always believing my life served a purpose I became what Oprah would call a "seeker" and I hungered for universal truths though I had no idea what I was really looking for. Perhaps I was looking at the real me beyond the accolades and the dutiful church attendance. I found an old book I purchased by Gabrielle Bernstein and I devoured it. "Okay," I thought. More. And then it hit me like my mama slapping me for having a sassy mouth, Oprah's Super Soul Sunday, the episode with a guy named Gary Zukav.

Now I recalled dabbling in the works of Eckert Tolle years prior and thinking "Why the hell would I want to walk down a street and be able to only see leaves when I look at leaves and not allow other thoughts to control my mind?" It was foolishness designed to steer you from God. But I was wrong, the leaves were God. I was about to embark on a journey that would help me understand now what I did not understand then and Gary would take me there.

I walked into a Barnes and Noble and picked up a copy of "The Seat of the Soul," by Gary Zukov. At once my spirit felt at home. This next level of life understanding, the deeper spiritual things that were not apart from Jesus but as I came to understand it, Jesus living these ideals in the flesh. Gary talked about the personality as distinct from the soul, the power of your thoughts, and the meaning of trust and authentic power in ways I would not have considered. I found myself starting to shift the nature of my conversations with my therapist, wanting to take more responsibility for the life I was ultimately creating.

That was 2021-a post-pandemic awakening. It took me two years to finish the book, two long deliberate years of notetaking, journaling, answering the questions, and delving into meditation. The metaphysical path, the path of enlightenment, the spiritual walk was expansive, God bigger than ever imagined, my own power more powerful than I conceived.

I was meant to go searching. My soul wanted to grow in ways the church would not allow it. No amount of money in the offering pot could purchase this kind of gratification, self-mastery, discovery, and healing. If the real me is ever asked to stand up in a crowd, I might just opt to stay seated!