When to Explore, When to Persist on Your Spiritual Path
Exploration is a compass
“ Never too old to play with mud,” I told myself, signing up for pottery class at sixty-five.
Little did I know that spinning clay would mirror my spiritual journey – teaching me when to explore new territories and when to persist on the path.
Sometimes wisdom comes through unexpected teachers.
That class taught me something beyond basic ceramics— it showed me the delicate dance between exploration and persistence.
I sat at the pottery wheel, hands caked in clay, watching another bowl collapse into a sad, soggy mess.
This was my fourth attempt at the beginner’s pottery class, and so far, all I’d created was an impressive collection of misshapen lumps.
“Try again,” my instructor encouraged, dropping a fresh ball of clay onto the wheel.
“But this time, let’s adjust your hand position.”
When faced with new challenges, we often lean heavily on either exploration or persistence.
The truth is, we need both.
Compasses and anchors
Exploration is your compass, helping you discover what works – like finding the right pressure to apply to the clay.
But persistence? That’s your anchor, helping you refine and master what you’ve discovered, like practicing that same hand position until it becomes muscle memory.
This balance becomes especially meaningful as we age and deepen our spiritual lives.
Just as I needed both curiosity and determination at that pottery wheel, our spiritual journey asks us to remain both explorers and steadfast practitioners.
Sometimes this means trying a new form of prayer or meditation, other times it means showing up faithfully to the practices that have nourished us for decades.
As we navigate life’s later chapters, these two companions – exploration and persistence – become even more vital.
They help us adapt to change while maintaining our core foundations, much like that clay spinning on the wheel – always in motion, yet anchored at its center.
A personal journey
Twenty-five years ago, I found myself sitting in an unexpected place – the UMass Medical Center’s mindfulness meditation program.
As someone with years of seminary training and a firm foundation in traditional religious education, I wasn’t sure what I’d find there.
But something in me was curious, maybe even a bit restless, pushing me to explore beyond familiar spiritual territory.
For eight weeks, I learned to sit with my breath, to observe my thoughts without judgment, and to embrace silence in ways my seminary training hadn’t taught me.
It wasn’t always comfortable. My mind, so well-versed in theological concepts and religious doctrine, sometimes resisted these new practices.
Yet each week, I returned to my cushion, discovering that exploration doesn’t mean abandoning what we know – it means creating space for something more.
That program became a doorway.
Over the years since, I’ve found myself drawn to explore Buddhist teachings, dig into other religious traditions, and discover wisdom in unexpected places.
Each exploration has added depth to my spiritual life, like adding layers to a painting.
Sometimes these new insights challenged what I thought I knew from my childhood religion classes or seminary training.
But isn’t that how growth happens?
We don’t erase our foundations; we build upon them.
What I’ve learned is that spiritual exploration isn’t about replacing old beliefs with new ones.
It’s about allowing our understanding to expand, to breathe, to encompass more than we initially thought possible.
Now, when I look back at that first mindfulness class, I see it wasn’t just about learning meditation techniques.
It was about giving myself permission to grow beyond the boundaries of what I thought spirituality could be.
Morning routine as exploration and persistance
Every morning, before the world fully wakes, I settle into my familiar routine.
I sit in meditation followed by some journaling, a Celtic Book of Prayer, and often a candle to bring light in the before dawn darkness.
These aren’t just miscellaneous items, they’re anchors in my spiritual practice. Some mornings, the words flow easily onto the journal pages; other times, my mind wanders during meditation like a restless child.
But I show up anyway, day after day, year after year.
This isn’t about rigid discipline – it’s about creating space for my soul to breathe.
I listen to the wisdom of dead people as well as the living
Thich Nhat Hanh reminds me to find peace in each step, Richard Rohr challenges me to dive deeper into contemplative practice, and Rumi’s poetry opens my heart to divine love.
These trusted companions and others on my bookshelf aren’t just authors – they’re conversation partners in an ongoing dialogue about what matters most.
Their words have become part of my spiritual DNA through years of returning to their teachings, finding new insights each time I revisit their pages.
It’s not about perfection
As a soul care advocate, I’ve learned that persistence in spiritual practice isn’t about perfection – it’s about presence.
It’s about showing up for your soul the way you’d show up for a dear friend.
Sometimes that means sitting quietly in meditation, other times it means engaging with community at church, and often it means simply remaining open to how the Divine speaks through everyday moments.
This kind of persistence creates roots that go deep, anchoring us through life’s storms while allowing us to bend and sway with its winds.
Like a well-tended garden, these practices – meditation, prayer, journaling, community worship – yield richer fruits with each passing season.
Not because we’ve mastered them, but because we’ve allowed them to master us, to shape us, to nurture our souls through faithful attention.
Finding balance
Like breathing in and breathing out, exploration and persistence create a natural rhythm in our spiritual lives.
Some seasons call for exploration – like when I discovered Buddhist meditation practices that expanded my understanding of contemplative prayer.
Other times require persistence – showing up daily to my morning spiritual practice even when it feels dry or routine.
The art lies in knowing when to push beyond
our comfort zone and when to
deepen existing practices.
Think of it like tending a garden. Some days we plant new seeds (exploration), while other days we simply water what’s already growing (persistence).
Both are essential.
When I find myself stuck in rigid patterns, it might be time to explore a new spiritual author or practice.
When I’m scattered, jumping from one practice to another, it’s usually a signal to return to my foundational routines.
Remember my pottery class?
Each bowl required both exploration (trying new techniques) and persistence (practicing them until they worked).
Your spiritual journey is no different.
Will you explore…or persist?
This week, I invite you to take one small step in each direction: Explore something new – perhaps read a page from a spiritual tradition different from your own.
Then, commit to showing up for one practice you already know nurtures your soul, even if it’s just for five minutes daily.
Your soul, like clay on the potter’s wheel, remains moldable, ready to be shaped by both new discoveries and faithful practice.
What will you explore? What will you deepen? Your soul is waiting to find out. Feel free to share in the comments below.