The First Story

1969 with our foreign exchange student from the Netherlands

As Emerson said, we see our life in glimpses and glances. 

I’ve arrived in my childhood home, where it all began, and I’m knowing it for the first time. 

I look around. 

What comes to me when I think of spiritual here? 

It was 1961 when I was born. 

My siblings were ages 14, 12, 9, and 8-years-old when I arrived. For all my childhood, I was a keen observer of the 4 of them and they shed the love upon me, that my parents taught us to share through example. When I think about spiritually in my upbringing, I think about love and light and the interconnectedness of not just human beings but all living things on earth. 

My baptism ( check out my mom's hat)

My parents loved each other deeply and supported their five kids with compassion for where we each were in our lives. They were usually conscious about not making their agenda our agenda, which allowed our spirits to bloom and grow. 

MY DAD WAS AN ATHEIST AND MY MOM WAS A PRESBYTERIAN, but he escorted her to church on Sunday because he thought the sermons were thought-provoking and he liked the community of church, as well as being with her.

There were never any conversations about God in our home as I remember (except when my hippie siblings revolted against going to church and said that there was no such thing as a God) but I know that spirituality lived in them, even though I couldn’t possibly articulate this then.

I always had the feeling that my parents were incredibly grateful for everything that they had and I don’t mean materialistically. I think they understood that health and life could change on a dime and they showed their gratitude for living daily, with a blessing at night before dinner.

They brought other people into the nest of our home frequently and put their wings around visitors as if they were their own.  

There was a feeling in MY CHILDHOOD HOME that I was in the right place and it wasn’t just because I felt very loved. I think it was partly the light coming in the windows, the classical music that was frequently playing, my dad whistling, the aroma of my mom’s good cooking and the affection that was given each night before bedtime. It was a safe and nurturing place to grow up and I felt very grateful for this, once I was old enough to visit other homes and realized that not everyone was as blessed as I was.

When I think of spirituality in my childhood home, I also think of the five senses. My parents were both such sensuous beings. They were tapped into beauty, touch, taste, smell and sound and I believe they were also tapped into the sixth sense of intuition. I don’t think this was ever articulated but they were both keen observers and very deep in their own way, as well as connected to nature profoundly.

This is my first story.