Over the course of my life, I have had situations that have caused me to question my spirituality, none more so than Shani’s death. Growing up, it was never a question. I was raised in a Catholic family, and I was taught this was God we’re talking about here. I wasn’t about to challenge something that could result in my spending the rest of eternity burning in hell. I believed what I believed, and that was that.
When Shani and I met, we were both searching for a sense of meaning in our lives. As time wore on, we became acutely aware of the soulful connection we shared. Shani’s journey was launched with the death of her mother when she was 21, and mine from my divorce at the age of 22. I never thought I would be a divorced father at the age of 25, and she certainly never could have imagined being motherless with a father in prison at the age of 30.
Initially, in trying to survive our situations, we both exhibited our own self-destructive behaviors along the way. I took an attitude early on that if life was going to treat me the way it had, then I was going to do what I wanted, when I wanted. I was driven by anger and fear, but I lacked the awareness to realize it. Shani and I were both searching for what was missing. I’m sure she was more conscious of it than I was. In finding each other, we each gained a partner to support our own individual spiritual paths.
During our ten years together, we absorbed everything we could from the people we met and the experiences and lives that they shared with us. Our living room became a place of deep conversations about spirituality and religious beliefs. We learned about the different world religions from those who practiced them. The undeniable common factor in almost everyone we spent time with was that they were good, loving people. Shani and I were exposed to a myriad of religious and spiritual beliefs and principles, and we found beauty in all of them.
When Shani died, I was catapulted into a new spiritual realm, but I was deeply wounded and angry again. I was angry at the one entity that I knew could carry me through the mess—God. I was angry with anyone who professed or acted as though Shani was going to hell since we didn’t share their beliefs or faith. I couldn’t let go of those who thought that I had no spirituality or was doomed, when the truth was that I understood THEM, but they didn’t get ME. All I ever truly had was my connection to the Source.
I couldn’t understand that there could be a reason behind any of this madness, but I knew that to turn away from my spirituality would mean anger, misery, and eventually death. In order to truly define and live my own faith, I first had to understand why it was that others believed what they did, so I dove in head-first. I studied and read. I can’t tell you how many books I’ve read over the last year, but it’s been quite a few. I took my search for meaning to another level entirely.
Nothing will challenge or shake your faith like a tragic loss, no matter how grounded you are. And even though the pain is still unbearable at times, I’ve put everything into the belief that good will come out of Shani’s loss. That’s what I hang onto during the rough times. And regardless of whether or not the book I am writing with Sean is any kind of a success or not, I know that many have already been helped in all of this. At the very least, people have begun to question their purpose here. Seeing someone so full of life, someone who stood for non-violence and cared so deeply for friends and loved ones, being taken in such a violent and seemingly senseless fashion has made people take inventory of themselves. I’m glad that this is causing people to think. Shani would be, too.
I believe people like to be comfortable. For most of us, there’s no real need to dive into why we believe the things we do. When we find what works for us, what suits our needs, we stop. When we believe that we have the map, we cling to that and profess that everyone else must be wrong. If we find ourselves happy, or content in our lives, then why ask questions? If we have a good marriage and a loving family, then why would we deviate from what we have been taught growing up or what we have heard in church on Sundays? We seem to claim that our spirituality is the most important thing we possess, but do we live what we claim?
One truth that I have found is that the only thing we possess is our spitituality. I would challenge anyone to explore this statement. Our home is not our own, neither is our job, or our loved ones. Anything that you think is “yours” is not. Any of it can be gone in an instant, including the very definition of who you think you are.
I refuse to just accept what others tell me I should believe about my relationship with God. For me, that’s no different than believing the man who says that McDonald’s hamburgers are the best without having eaten anywhere else, while at the same time there is someone standing over at Burger King who feels the same way and another at Wendy’s professing the same thing, and as silly as this sounds, this is the world that we live in. Personally, I would rather have one at home on the grill, but my point here is not about hamburgers. If you are born in the Deep South, and your family is of a Southern Baptist origin, you are likely to believe the tenets of the Baptist faith. The same applies for a Hindu in India, a Jew in Israel and a Muslim in Iraq. If you are the child of Tom Cruise or John Travolta, you’re likely to believe in Scientology.
In my opinion, understanding why others believe what they do is simple. It’s about genealogy and geography. What we believe is directly influenced by what our families have passed down through generations and also where we live. If that’s the case, and you believe that because of your faith, you are going to heaven, then wouldn’t it stand to say that you might believe that you were blessed from birth and that everyone else is damned? So the Buddhist who lives a life of poverty and service is going to hell, while the Christian who accumulates wealth and does no good for his fellow man goes to heaven? Really?
Is that the world of a loving and forgiving God, or is it possible that people from around the world may meet in the same place and be judged based on how they live their lives while they are here? Do we do as Christ taught and love our brother, or do we twist scripture to place ourselves on a pedestal, ensuring our comfort without having to truly explore our spirituality and connection to God? Do we judge people around us or live a life full of compassion and mindfulness as Buddhism teaches? Are you even willing to look at yourself this way, or do you find it threatening? I’m just asking people to think, that’s all. Some would find this to be an existential nightmare.
I have to know why. I have to know why I believe the things that I do or what I’ve been taught as I am going to be the one that will have to face my maker some day. I have to take responsibility for what it is that I profess in my spirit. And in my soul-searching, I have made my OWN decisions about the loving and forgiving God that I believe in, and I work hard every day at having a direct spiritual connection with the guiding force, the light of the universe and all of the spiritual teachings we have been presented throughout history. I try to be accepting of everyone, although I do find the atheists and fundamentalists hard to understand, and believe that there are beautiful people in all of the world religions just as there are those that twist and turn the “Word of God” to suit their own destructive gains.
At Shani’s memorial, we preached the theme of acceptance and love for our fellow man. We are all here going through the same experience, and all of us there were grieving the loss of the same person. She was a friend to everyone, and no matter what you claimed as your religious beliefs, no one was suffering any less. I encouraged people to look around and see all of the people from different backgrounds that were present. In closing, I said, if Shani was here, you know what she would say? “Quit judging each other.” Shani prayed, she meditated, she gave and she loved. She treated others well and wasn’t afraid to bare her soul. As I’ve said before, I’ve seen few people whose deaths have had a more profound impact on others than hers.
If we can understand why it is that we believe what we do, then maybe we can learn to understand each other better instead of using our faith to judge each other so harshly, which only drives a wedge between us. Acceptance is the first step in truly loving one another and creating a world of unity. Isn’t this the fundamental goal in every spiritual message? Are we not taught to love one another and be peaceful? I know that this is what Shani believed and how she tried to live. It’s also why I believe that if I can continue to do my best to live my life this way that some day, when I leave this world, I’ll see her on the other side, wherever that is, but that’s a topic for another day…
Peace.
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