How to Adapt Spiritual Practices as We Age
How do we adapt spiritual practices with age? Or more specifically, how does our appetite for ‘soul food’ change as we get older? Or does it? Is it OK to hang on to the traditions of our childhood or follow the paths we discovered as a young adult?
How do we feed a hungry spirit if these paths no longer call to us? I welcome you to join me as I explore how one path (out of many) can feed a hungry spirit, especially the older we get.
I woke up this morning older than I was yesterday….by exactly the same amount that you aged. 24 hours. That doesn’t seem like much, does it? Yet piled on the 24 hours from the day before…and the day before that, they add up and before you know it, there are more candles on the cake than any human can blow out with one breath.
Most days I am looking at a to-do list that will only get half finished, or concerns about a loose tooth or an appointment I need to make to get the dog groomed.
Even if I got everything checked off by the end of the day, there is still a nagging feeling that I have avoided something much more important.
This happens when I ignore the yearnings in my spirit for peace, purpose and connection with something beyond myself, beyond my projects, beyond my understanding.
Something divine.
Mystery.
Aging and Spirituality: A Lifelong Quest for Soul Food
I have been on a quest for spiritual fulfillment my entire life. I have found nourishment from conservative, liturgical, and mainline Chritianity. Practices from Buddhism and Hinduism and Islam.
Thoughts from philosophers, atheists and poets. Although all of these have made my life richer in some way, none, by themselves, has been all that I need and yearn for.
Many people on a similar odyssey in, through and around religion have shared how they met their deepest hunger.
One famous example is the renowned naturalist and author John Muir, who, in his later years, spoke eloquently of finding his religion in the cathedrals of nature.
For Muir, spirituality was not confined within the walls of a church but was alive in the whisper of the trees, the choir of the streams, and the serenity of the mountains.
His journey underscores a profound truth: spiritual nourishment can flourish outside the garden of organized religion, thriving in the rich soil of personal experience and connection with the world around us.
Traditional Religion
Some people find traditional religious structures confining at best, abusive at worst. Some stay. Some leave.
I have done both over the years and the bottom line that keeps me involved is community. I seek the wisdom shared in simple conversations with other seekers. I savor the connections.
But I no longer expect deep nourishment from traditional religion any more than I expect a balanced meal at a Chinese buffet. It could happen, of course, but always I would yearn for something more, something I have never tasted, something that my body knows is necessary for growth that isn’t found in warmed up egg rolls.
Spirituality is vastly broader and deeper than I can taste in one hour a week. It is limited only by my heart and mind.
It is a human drive so basic that if we fail to nourish our spirits, we fail to thrive.
And, doggone it, I want to thrive—well into my ‘sunset years.’
Spirituality at this point in my life is less about finding answers in the traditional sense, than it is about how to find peace with the unknown, how to access wisdom, and how to listen to one’s heart instead of all the voices in a data-driven brain.
How nature can feed a hungry soul
There are many paths to reach these goals, but, like John Muir I shall turn to nature for some answers. Nature beckons many of us back to our roots and offers a sanctuary for spiritual exploration and renewal, whether alone or in community with others.
My preference is for moments of solitude by a lakeshore at night listening to loons. Others might prefer gathering with friends to watch the sunrise on a mountaintop.
Either way, there is something ineffable happening both in front of our eyes and within our spirit.
I watch the cycles of life, growth and change here in New England and am reminded of the transcience of existence.
Every living thing begins, thrives, and returns to the earth. And begins again. Not unlike Christian stories of birth, death and resurrection.
So how can we access nature to feed a hungry spirit?
Some people enjoy the therapeutic rhythms of gardening, cultivating a deep sense of presence and mindfulness as they plant, nurture, and then harvest the fruit of their labors.
Gardening is a powerful metaphor for life’s journey and the process is a practice in trusting the unknown.
If you have ever buried a seed and left it to the elements you know what I mean. Faith is exercised and grows right along with the tomatoes.
And then there is hiking in nature. Either a vigrous hike through the woods, or a slow walking meditation are both opportunities to step away from the noise of life and immerse yourself in the natural world.
Rustling leaves, the beauty of distant mountains, or simply breathing in fresh air can help quiet the mind and bring inner peace.
One of my favorite practices is going deep into the woods to listen to the trees whisper to each other in the silence. Some things defy cognitive explanations. Such is the experience of spiritual growth!
Another path in nature to noursish your spirit is bird watching. This practice encourages stillness, patience, and attentiveness, more than sitting in a pew listening to the same words over and over.
Observing the diverse species of birds, their behaviors, and their migrations can deepen our appreciation for the intricate tapestry of life and the interconnectedness of all living things.
There are a multitude of other ways we nourish a hungry spirit besides practicing a particular religious tradition. We can connect with the divine or our deepest selves through nature, community, or the arts. The secret is not in a particular activity, per se, but in how we choose to be present. Whether I am in church, in the forest or by the lakeside I ask myself “Am I really here? Now? Am I listening?” And if not, what would it take to return?
One way to feed your soul is sharing reflections with others.
Where shall we send your copy?
