Spirituality is something best kept in a shoebox, stuffed away on a shelf.

When in a conversation with people that hold themselves as spiritual (mystics, psychics, “healers”, etc.) that’s the time to bring out the shoebox. Use the language I have access to from that shoebox to speak with these people, and even create a semblance of … sympathy for their “condition”, before putting the shoebox back on the shelf where it belongs.

This is where my spiritual journey began from.

You could describe my attitude towards people that self-described as spiritual as “condescending sympathy”.

Down this path, my life was about knowing. What was available was a function of what I knew. I didn’t need to trust or have faith — I gathered data about the world around me, and then I determined what was and was not available from that data.

I was a scientist.

The realm of Spirit was like a tiny little aperture — a narrow window that held all of the things that weren’t yet explainable (and thus, knowable). But fret not — it was only a matter of time before my understanding caught up, and that window would continue to shrink.

Imagine my surprise, on this side of things, to discover that I’m a deeply spiritual man, and that my journey, and those I work with, turns out to be one that is almost entirely spiritual.

Like many people that feel called to a certain path, my initiation has been slow and challenging.

I’ve been called, again and again, to let go of my knowing, and choose into a path that is, at best, something I feel.

When I choose into the path that I feel, I must abandon the safety of my knowing. In fact, choosing this path is often done in direct contradiction to what I know.

It didn’t make much sense that I choose into a coach training program that cost over $30k when we were already six-figures into debt, and most of what I would be trained in felt like well-meaning nonsense.

But I felt called to that path.

And on this side of things, that was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made in my life.

It didn’t make much sense to travel down to Costa Rica and sit with Ayahuasca when I had plenty of things demanding my time, attention and money, back here at home.

But I felt called to that path, and choosing into it has been one of the best decisions of my life.

The spiritual path isn’t about making sense.

We find safety in things making sense, because if we can make sense of them, we can predict the outcome. If we can predict the outcome, we can avoid or protect ourselves from the parts that we’re afraid of.

Every time the path of Spirit opens in front of me, I can feel my mind alongside my fear, working to try to fit it into a conceptual framework that makes sense.

Every time I drink more medicine, every time I feel called to choose into a deeper expression of the path I’m called into, my mind is there, working overtime to try and keep me safe.

The spiritual path isn’t really about safety. It’s about freedom.

Over time, I get better at distinguishing this need to make things make sense as a response to my fear — and I get a little better at choosing in the face of that.

But it’s always scary.

Here are some of the things I’ve had to release, as I’ve learned and walked this path:

– How to ensure my business continues to be a going concern
– (Where’s the next client coming from? How do I scale? How will I make sure I have enough time? Etc.)
– How to explain what I’m doing to other people, so that they understand and accept the journey I’m on
– How to convince other people to join me, or that this is the right thing
– Proving to myself that things will work out
– Knowing what I will get, from walking this path, before I’ve walked it

That fear is always there.

That fear is here again for me, right now. That’s why I’m writing this post — as a reminder to myself that this is always the way.

Behind our greatest fears lie our greatest desires.