For more time than seems proper to confess, I’ve struggled with the ups and downs of a somewhat depressive state. And, it’s been several years since I had, what I label as, my spiritual breakdown. It was at that break where I rejected most everything I’d been falsely taught about Christianity. I was angry, resentful, hurt, and simply thoroughly pissed off.

Since then, I’ve devoted massive amounts of energy to study that released me from such false teaching and belief, and redirected my consciousness to Truth; and Trueness, my own and others.

The breakdown occurred right in the middle of the span of years so important to my evolution to where I am now. The importance has to do with moving away from Mississippi and all rhetoric that surrounded me. I was not born racist, but I was raised within racism. It was not a natural thing to see difference, but I was taught/influenced to do so throughout my growing years. I do not like the truth this exposes; I resent this. I do not want to be resentful—of anything—so it’s time to truly let it go.

After almost 30 years away, we are back in Mississippi. It was my home. Is it again? I do love it; like a friend you know is very good at heart but has a history that so unfortunately includes hate. There is so much opportunity for so much better. But will we get there? And, what is my role now—in a so-called evolved state?

Caring friends providentially directed me to several trusted teachers (in print) in the years since the spiritual break: Green, Rohr, Keating, Merton, Crossan, McLauren, and others. My point is that I now question what to do with all to which I’ve been opened, to all I’ve learned through diligent reading, and how I’ve allowed what I’ve experienced to influence my writing. Who have I become? What does all this mean? What have I learned about myself? About God? About Jesus? About the Great Spirit? About the Great Mystery? About The Word?

And, am I still being called forward into … something? I don’t know.

“The highest revelation of divinity (on Earth) is through the natural world—Earth is physical divinity—the divine feminine principle of God. To honor nature is to honor God.”

—Mayra Porrata

All this processing set the stage for something that happened on one of my daily walks. But first, let me add that I know two things: One—There’s something calling at me about being a part of peacemaking (anti-racism) and reparation. Two—Finding a role in reparation with the Mother; our wonderful Earth. Now to the something that happened.

I was on that morning walk along my normal trek on a hot day. For the most part, if I meet or see someone along the way, they are familiar. But at one point I looked up and saw a man coming toward me I didn’t recognize. It was, in my reflection, almost like he just appeared. As he came closer I noticed his gait was a bit off and that he reminded me of a service recipient of the organization where I was on the Board; serving adults with intellectual and mental disabilities. When near enough, I fixed my attention on two specific things, his crooked teeth and the engaging smile that made one look past the crookedness.

As he got to me he stopped, pulled the earbud from his left ear, didn’t say hello, but straightforwardly asked, Do you like the sun? What a strange question I thought. I didn’t know how to respond, so I said, No. I felt uncomfortable with my abrupt response, so I explained that I preferred a sunny day when it was not so hot. At this point it’s important to note that this gentleman is an African American. He then began to tell me how creation had begun in Africa. The first people were black, that they went into the caves when it got cold. As they lived in caves for generations, their melatonin lightened and that’s where white folks came from—from black people.

All through this he constantly pointed at his skin on his left arm. But here’s the thing I cannot forget, what he said to me with each pointing; “It’s not your fault.”

I think he was real. The experience was, and remains, very surreal. He also said to me as he ended his sermon; “Your mood is Saturn.” This sort of freaked me out. I had to look that up to fully understand why. Now I’m not one to be into astrology, but Saturn is in retrograde, and what I read about definitely described my mood, and my depression. But, back to It’s not your fault. I’ll never forget this experience, this meeting along the path. I’ll process the possible message/meaning for a long time. I’m certain this sudden encounter holds meaning for the call I feel toward peacemaking, anti-racism, reparation, and creation.

There’s an encouragement in this encounter. I just have to find it.

Seeker

Along a path known,
meeting a soul not known,
or maybe always known.
For the knowing, not of mind
but of heart, preexisting oneness.

Both black and white
skin equally shimmering
in the heat and humidity
of our summer morning
in this, our Mississippi.

At the specific gazing,
seeing better the whole.
At the whole looking,
cherishing more the one.

As normal as anyone,
always seemingly looking
everywhere but the present,
I need to be special,
simply who I am.

Transformation continues,
way before past regret
and well beyond future fear
into now of who I am
and who together we are.

What did I miss?
A few days after the encounter with the man and his question and message, and still contemplating both, I was once again walking. I ran across yet another person I’d never seen. She was about to set up some devices for either video or survey, I couldn’t quite tell. I spoke and she asked me if her setup would be in the way for anyone. Due to my familiarity with the park, I assured her she would not be in the way where she was. Once again, there was an engaging smile. Our brief interchange was delightful. I felt as if I could’ve stayed a while and talked with her. And once again, I must point out that she is African American.

As I walked away, the question came at me like a bus; What did I miss?

Should I had taken the time to talk with her, what might I have learned? As I walked I asked myself about many others with skin of another color. If I could go back in time, ask and listen, what would I discover that I missed? I thought about how we enslaved Africans, gave them Christianity, and watched them become better Christians than we. What if I talked with those of color and deep faith? Would I learn what I have missed, and would such knowledge enrich my path? I know it would.

I hadn’t seen Sophia, one of my regular friends on my daily walks, for several months. I was in the local grocery just the other day and turned down an isle and practically ran into her. I was elated. Sophia was a parks and recreation employee. She had resigned six months prior and I did not know. Seeing her reminded me of that experience of the gentleman telling me that it’s not my fault. That was almost a year ago as I finalize work on this essay. Sophia’s kind presence reminded me just how fantastically blessed I have been to have known through my work the beautiful souls from most every color on this, our Earth.

It seems strange for me to type what follows, but the truth of the moment is that I feel like getting lost somewhere with the Earth, and not participating any longer in society, or societal issues. The further truth is that effectively, since the beginning of the pandemic, I’ve already become somewhat of a non-participant. The question then becomes, Will this change?

Notes & Influences:

Good Feather, Doug. Think Indigenous: Native American Spirituality for a Modern World. Carlsbad, California: Hay House, 2021.

Magee, Rhonda V. The Inner Work of Racial Justice: Healing Ourselves and Transforming Our Communities Through Mindfulness. New York, NY: Penguin, 2019.

Hanh, Tich Nhat. Peace is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life. New York, NY: Bantam, 1991.

Perry, Imani. South to America: A Journey Below the Mason-Dixon to Understand the Soul of a Nation. New York, NY: HarperCollins, 2022.