Today I am confronted by past mistakes. Parts of myself that are not particularly nice to be reminded of. I grew up as a Christian. Not just an any old type. Specifically Dutch Protestant Reformed. This specific flavor of Christianity places heavy importance on education. To study and learn God’s teachings and desires. Understanding the rules and expectations both our deity and our community place upon us. As a child it was normal to me, it wasn’t until I was much older that I saw the toxicity in it.
Not that my pastors, teachers, and family members were cruel or overly authoritative. They were honest and loving in their intentions. They felt that I needed rules and structure. They knew in their hearts and on their paths that if I didn’t learn then I wouldn’t be the sort of Christian I should have been. I learned well, so well in fact that I attended seminary so that I could have the deepest learning and understanding. So I could be the one that taught the rules and expectations to others.
It has been nearly 10 years since I came to the realization that the negatives of my situation were grossly outweighing the positives. First I rejected organized denominational churches. I told myself I still believed in everything I had learned. But the stifling nature of the church was not for me. Then slowly over years and years as I peeled back the layers of my faith I found the rot went deeper than I could have ever guessed. It wasn’t a single moment of revelation. But rather a long process of realizing the faith of my childhood was no longer for me. I had to turn away from everything I had ever been taught, so I could teach myself what exactly it was that I believed.
Once I had crossed that tipping point I thought the hard part was over. After all the process of deconstructing my Christian faith had taken years. It by necessity had to include mental health care, medication, and long bouts of meditation. I thought that once my goddess spoke to me in a dream the work was nearly done. Of course now I know that actually signified the beginning of the work. The first pitfall was one I didn’t see coming until I stepped into it.
When we have finally moved on from trauma in our lives one of the first feelings we must confront is a desire for retribution. We have been hurt by our previous choices and by the choices of others. Perhaps no one chose to traumatize us, the vagaries and troubles of life just landed on us. When we're ready to leave them behind there is one last test we must pass. We must learn to put the baggage down and walk away from it.
For me this involved forgetting the toxic harm that had been inflicted on me by well intentioned people who were following the teachings of my former faith group. When I was ready to walk away I was determined to have the last word. I felt a need to rub my former faiths noses in my new faith. Not to convince any one person of my new beliefs, that sort of conversion was one of the things I was rejecting after all. My bitterness, the scars of my previous experiences demanded justice and I was certain I needed to get my revenge.
Perhaps revenge is too strong a word. I wanted to let those who hurt me, alienated me, rejected me that I wasn’t broken by the experience. I wanted all of them to see me on my new path. It took time to learn that the result of this is carrying an unnecessary weight with me as I walked my new path. It made things harder, it made my new path less joyful.
I had to reject this urge. I focused on the excitement of a new path. The positives instead of the negatives, the promise of the future rather than the pain of the past. Speaking with my ancestors, many of whom were Christian clergy. I had fear that they would disapprove of my rejection of their faith system. My dear passed grandfather embraced me from beyond the rainbow bridge and assured me that he now understood the most important thing is to love our fellow travelers.
Our paths are all different, we walk them as solitary travelers. No one can know our paths, even if their path runs parallel to ours. I learned it is not my job to rub my new path in the noses of those I used to walk alongside. I had to learn to not feel the need for retribution, to have the last word, to make them understand how much their choices affected me negatively. These feelings are weights that make walking our new path more difficult. It took me years to learn to put that weight down, turn away from it, and walk the path appearing at my feet.
I am not here to teach you rules, or to reveal truths you must believe. Determining the course your path takes is solely on you. I do hope with love and encouragement from those around you, that you put down the weight you carry from your past spiritual paths. Turn away from it. Feel your load lighten as you focus only on the joy of discovery, exploration, and personal revelation. You will find your path leading you to places your previous path never could. Your new path will not be tainted by the pain and struggle of your previous path. It may take time to leave the trauma of the past behind. But only good things will happen when you take the high road.
I lightened my load, by turning away from old weight I found walking my new path easier. My hope for you is that you can learn to do the same. Until our paths cross again. Walk well fellow travelers. So mote it be.
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