Recently, someone asked me where I found sources of spiritual support. I have a variety, but today I realize that an important one are the books that I read and listen to. Today, for example, I was listening to Everyday Grace, by Marianne Williamson, and reading Return to the Sacred, by Jonathan H. Ellerby, PhD. After being exposed to these texts, I find remembering that I am a spiritual being effortless, alignment feels natural and spontaneous, and everything I think and do seems to flow.
I have such a desire to hold on to this effect. I tell myself that I should own the books (I borrow most of my reading material from that fantastic institution, the Chicago Public Library), have access to them at all times. But even as I think this, I remember Inspiration, a book that felt seminal in my path to consciousness and that was so uplifting and energizing that simply remembering it fills me with hope and enthusiasm. I read it years ago, in 2006 when it was newly published, and finally bought it early last year. But I have never looked at it, since.
Surely some day I will be grateful to find it on my shelf, probably because I will be able to lend it to someone who can really gain something from it. But the real lesson here is that, after each of these books, these companions on my journey, pass through my life, leaving their mark, uplifting and inspiring me, I can trust that new ones will be waiting for me, as well as other forms of spiritual support: music, walks in the forest, precious guides and beloved community.
Always, along the path, I have found inspiration and guidance that filled me with hope, encouragement, and gratitude. My bookshelf is still full of the ones that came in book form: bell hooks’ Communion, Alice Walker’s In Search of Our Mother’s Garden, Angeles Arrien’s The Fourfold Way, Barbara Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer.
As long as I am open, willing to receive, then I will continue to find what I need on the journey.