As a youngster I wondered of the Beyond. I remember bringing my dad’s maroon hardcover bible upstairs to my bedroom for keeps. I read all the psalms and looked for one that didn’t mention anything mean. It took a while. I landed on Psalm 23. (I replace ‘lord’ with ‘love’.)

A ‘quiet to myself’ kind of kid I took lots of walks. I had a peninsula to sojourn. I’d sit by the crevices and look out over the ocean. In my tweens, through the Osmonds, I became I read up and reported on Mormonism for junior high. In high school my favorite subject was Greek History with Mr. Karavetsos. I spent one weekend holed up in my room reading Plato’s ‘Republic’ – intrigued by the socratic method. In college a professor steered me briefly towards EST ; I took Amherst College’s ‘Poetry of Enlightenment’ course with Robert Thurman and got a master’s degree from the Institute of Religious Education and Pastoral Ministry from Boston College, where I would have loved to go for a PhD in Comparative Religions if energy and time allowed. Since the early 90s I’ve had a rather more urgent inclination for growing spiritually to keep myself living in a useful and productive way.

I remember a time when I felt a driven-ness toward the need for my own enlightenment. I don’t know that I’ll ever feel that again – that big bubble of determination feels somehow integrated deep in my fibers in a pedestrian kind of way. Today, when I’m willing, my spirituality acts as a check on my selfishness, dishonesty and fear. Although I ONLY INTERMITTENTLY RECOGNIZE IT – I eventually come to know things are out of whack when I’m focused myopically on myself.

Lately these wise words from my eldest son are my fellow pedestrians: “Why religions or gurus? Why not be kind for kindness’ sake? because it feels good?”