“Spirituality” is hard to define and to pin down.

What does it really mean? 

Who is really spiritual, who is not? 

What does it mean to say “she is a really spiritual person”? 

When I hear things like, “Mary is dating this really spiritual guy” I can’t help imagining someone who floats or speaks in soothing tones about things eternal and does so with dreamy, distant eyes. 

I’d suggest our spirituality, yours and mine, may be focussed upon matters eternal, but if it is authentic, it will be anchored firmly in the immediate. 

Our “spirituality,” like it or not, becomes evident in all of our relationships, from intimate to platonic. It is seen and felt and known, here and now, in all of our relationships and attitudes.

You know you have met a “spiritual” person when he or she treats all people with dignity and respect.

You know you have met a “spiritual “ person when you meet someone for whom kindness and care are default positions whether a person encountered is “useful” to them or not. 

You will know you have met a spiritual person when you encounter someone who is unfazed by the perceived rank or power or wealth of others and who regards all human encounters as holy.

The observation that one person can never quite know what another is enduring has been vividly true for me this week. In the past few days I have had one-to-one encounters with:

A woman in her late sixties who works night-shift five nights a week, who, with her sister, has given a home to two young children (6 and 10 years old) who had to be forcibly removed from their mother’s home in a city several hundred kilometers away.

A man who works two jobs but must also sell his plasma at the blood bank three times a week to make ends meet. 

A woman whose son, 3 years ago, ended his own life at 15-years-old after having spent a good day with his family and gave no hint of the pain he was apparently enduring.

A woman who moved five hundred miles away from her husband to keep herself and her two young children safe.

A teenager who watched both his father and an uncle killed in a violent inner-city exchange of fire – who then divulged when I asked him that he himself “always carries” a weapon.

A teenager who revealed that every time he leaves his house he takes all his valuables and papers with him just in case he’s told by a relative he can’t come back.

Preparation is everything if you are headed for a crisis or think you may be. Here are a few things to think about to get your head ito the right frame of mind:

• I will not panic, sell the house, or make any drastic moves.
• There are a variety of options I have not considered and will not come to mind when I am under stress.
• How I respond to this crisis (confrontation, change in direction) will  be more important than the issue itself.
• What I am facing is probably not about specific people; rather it is about the environment that has developed among various people.
• No matter how tough things get I will not resort to lies, making others the scapegoat for anything.
• I will enter every conflict with the intention of facing and resolving problems, finding resolutions and forgiving my foes.
• I will enter tough meetings or conflicted circumstances with a spirit of humility and a desire for healing and reconciliation.
• I will promote love and understanding, even at the expense of appearing weak.
• I will be responsible for myself, and responsible to and not for others.
• I will not resort to insulting or humiliating others in order to support my position or strengthen my case.

“I never thought that at 68 years of age I would be writing to you for help with family matters. I guess there would be hundreds of people in the same boat as I am and at some stage must reach out.”

I was thrilled to get this letter, not because someone is experiencing family difficulties. I was thrilled because the writer has reached a point where he sees “reaching out” is possible, necessary, and healthy. 

The writer is apparently also aware that family issues are common. He sees there is no age at which a person cannot reach out for help.  The writer’s tone expresses that there is no benefit to attaching shame to experiencing family difficulties and he apparently sees that his family is like many other families around the world, a thought that many people want to resist.  

But, “I never thought that at 68,” is the portion of the letter that caught my attention. It reveals a common childhood illusion that adults have got things worked out, that adults are on top of things, that there is an age at which everything about life comes together. 

I recall having similar thoughts as a tennager. 

Did you? Has it all “come together” for you?

O memory of painful time,

Are you seed or stone?

A dark and deadly tomb,

Or seed with life to bloom?

Only if I say, “I want you,”

Will I really know.”

O sprouting seed, are you angry?

At the dark and choking dirt? 

What grates your tender shoot,

And blocks your chosen route?

Only if I say, “I forgive you,”

Will I really know. 

O tender shoot, are you bargaining, 

Demanding sun before you grow?

Or would you rather as the sun

Pour warm love on everyone?

Only if you say, “I forgive you first,”

Will I really know. 

O roots, do you wander depressed 

Searching in drought for tears?

Or do you need more sun?

To dry the tears that run?

Only if I say, “Forgive me,”

Will I really know. 

O golden wheat, can you accept 

The gifts of pulsing seed?

Are you wheat or golden bread?

Are you bread or Christ instead 

Only if I say, “Thank you,” 

Will I really know.

“Unless a grain of wheat

falls to the Earth and dies 

it remains alone, 

but if it dies 

It bears much fruit.”

John 12: 24

Poet unknown

A flow chart or diagram of a person’s family of origin and extended family — usually three generations although people often invest more time and energy and “go back” another two or three generations. 

There are many symbols and distinctive markings people use and each practitioner usually develops his or her own style. 

A GENOGRAM is PREDICTIVE but not DETERMINATIVE. 

Getting required information from your family may be a challenge and an exercise in healing in itself. 

Creating a Genogram is an on-going exercise and it will change as a family changes with births, deaths, marriages, adoptions and divorces. 

People can and do “defy” the predictions that reveal themselves (addictions, unwanted patterns, cut-offs, fusions) in a Genogram but are unlikely to do so without a committed plan toward greater individual health.

Calm or chaos in one generation is likely to “flow through” the system.

“Horse and carriage” drives within you: deny either at your own peril…

A is for Autonomy: a powerful instinctual longing within you. It’s the desire to be self-directed and separate. It is the “you” who wants to be free of all responsibilities. It is the “you” that fears absorption; the “you” who wants to let your hair blow in the wind, feel the sun on your back and go! It’s the lone-ranger and pioneer spirit within you. This desire is God-breathed, God-inspired and a necessary part of your growth. This need can be met, not by irresponsibly severing ties, but through regularly finding time to be alone.

I is for Intimacy: a powerful instinctual longing within you. It is the desire to nest. It is the “you” who wants to belong, be known, to be part of a family. It is the “you” who fears abandonment and longs for a shared journey. This is the part of you that longs for the sounds, symbols and reality of a shared life. This desire is God-breathed, God-inspired and a necessary part of your survival and growth. This need is met through regularly spending time in a loving family or community.

A with I = Emotional Health 

A without I = Selfish Avoidance 

I without A = Selfish Indulgence

I’m in South Africa for a brief visit and I’m enjoying your gorgeous country. 

Resilience and friendliness and hope within the hearts of the people I’ve met apparently far exceeds the surrounding community and national stressors.

I’m frequently reminded in casual conversations that America — I live in the USA — is widely idealized by South Africans. “North America” includes the USA, Mexico, and Canada.

Load-shedding* is obviously a challenge to all South Africans.

I’m amazed at how people appear to adjust to it, embrace it, arrange their lives and programmes around it and simply go on. 

Given such a necessity in the USA there’d be outrage and people would take to the streets and refuse to accommodate the inconvenience. 

They’d feel picked on and singled and express it without reserve.

The USA is generally highly efficient. Things work.  Attention is usually somewhat immediate when things don’t — but, we are far from a perfect nation. 

Selfishness abounds. 

Entitlement persists. 

Political turmoil is rampant and is often hate driven. 

Crime is a significant problem and many inner city areas are veritable war zones.

Yes, you’ll hear of South African immigrants in the USA who brag about leaving their houses unlocked and have no home security system and so forth, but, they have joined the privileged.  

Lots of areas of our country are deeply troubled and we could do with a lot more of your friendly and humble attitude all round.

* Power (electrical) shedding — electricity shuts down for up to 4 hours a day in stages across the nation. There’s an app that informs the population when power will be off and reconnected in your area. This means traffic lights are off and some malls and banks have to shut downSome establishments have installed generators and so they are unaffected by load shedding.

Caring for another, a neighbor, a friend, during an illness or while grieving a loss is an art.

Caring too much — overdoing caring — damages both the recipient of the “care” and he or she who offers it.

Caring offhandedly or indifferently is no care at all.

Then, it’s a tricky business trying to care for one who needs no care or thinks he or she needs no care.

Striking a balance of caring for another without compromising oneself is a delicate art form.

But, it’s possible.

It can be learned and practiced and perfected. Then, when errors are made, the errors can teach valuable lessons so they are unlikely to be repeated.

Among the first errors is the belief that caring for another is easy, requires little or no thought, training, or preparation. Another is agreeing or deciding too quickly.

Long term care for another, costs. It’s an enormous investment of time and love and commitment requiring that other facets of the carer’s life will require reassessment. Long term care for one will mean others in the carer’s broader circle of relationships will also require readjustments.

Self-care comes first or the “care” offered will probably begin well but spiral down to acts of begrudged favors and feel both for the carer and recipient like a really bad marriage.