It was quite a toasty Saturday in New England this weekend (o.k. compared to the insane temperatures out west, I shouldn’t complain). The temps were in the 90s, so that meant one of two things – beach or boat. I am fortunate to live 4 short miles from one of my favorite beaches in the northeast. However, it being a Saturday, I knew it would be crazy crowded there.
One of the other many great things that have come out of my playing soccer on Friday nights is all of the wonderful friends I have met. My new friend, Jim, has a very cool (and very fast!) speed boat, and he invited us to join him on Saturday. We jumped at the chance!
I have always loved boats. I feel so at home on them. I’m convinced there is a strong connection to the water in a past life of mine. As I sat at the front of the boat while Jim sped along pulling a water skiier, my spirit soared. I mean, truly soared. I sat there, looking at the lush green trees surrounding the lake and at the open water ahead of me, and took the deepest breaths possible to soak it all in. Years ago I would have wasted this opportunity for joy by anticipating and dreading it coming to an end. This time, instead, I was so present in the moment, and I was loving every second of it.
Too often, people won’t recognize a spiritual moment in their lives because they believe, think, or have been taught that in order for it to be spiritual, it must be tied to religion. To me, a spiritual experience is just that – a time when you feel your spirit is lifted. So much so you can practically feel your lungs expand to accommodate it.
Saturday on that boat was incredibly spiritual for me and I wasn’t in a church with someone preaching from a pulpit. Instead, I was praying at Mother Nature’s altar – a loving, welcoming, unconditional altar. And my soul sang…