This week, I went to church. I was staying with my wonderful friends in the city, and they offered to take Amelia to church to give us some respite and for her to play with some friends. Throughout Saturday, I kept thinking about their offer, and later that day, I asked if I could join them. I haven’t attended church in a long time, but I felt drawn to go on this Sunday. Perhaps I wanted to learn something? I have always noticed the joy it brings my friends, and I was intrigued to understand what brought them so much light and happiness.
The first thing I noticed was the warmth from everyone — the smiles and joy at seeing a new person join in. The story shared was very enlightening. The pastor spoke about lamenting. I’ll be honest; I had to Google the word. Unlike my husband, who’s heard it countless times, it was new to my ears. Lamenting is the ability to express deep grief, and the pastor spoke about the three stages of lamenting: movement, logic, and working through lamenting. His words stayed with me. As he described the three steps, he said: “A frozen heart is unable to flow between grief and gratitude, and the essence of our faith is to learn to flow through this.”
Can our spirituality flow between the things that make us cry out for help, weep with sorrow, and finally find calm? Is it the clarity of self, the belief that we can get through, and the gratitude for peace? It might be. If you think about it, we are all lamenting throughout our lives, navigating the complex and brilliant times that life brings us.
I believe there is a great purpose for us all — an energy that connects us. When we step back and look at the different religions, the people searching for higher learning, the abundance of podcasts, coaching, or mentorship available to us, there is always something in common. We are all seeking a higher purpose to understand who we are, find meaning in our lives, soothe our souls, and create deeper connections with those around us.
As I’ve been writing and drawing inspiration from my surroundings this week, I’ve experienced many spiritual moments — from conversations with friends and family to small moments that felt like they were made just for me.
One such moment happened while I walked to hang the washing in the garden. I saw a beautiful single white feather resting on the grass. It might not mean much to someone else, but my heart opens up when I see this. Why? When my stepfather and mother passed away, on each of their respective days, a white feather fell at my feet. Throughout this week, I’ve seen little white feathers here and there. My interpretation is that they are a way for my mum and stepdad to let me know they’re still here — watching over me, sending love to me and those I care about. To me, the feather is a reminder that we are never truly alone and that there is always something more than what we can see.
There have been other spiritual moments this week. My dear friend in Melbourne, who has always been strong in faith, messaged me out of the blue to check in and see how we were doing. We’ve known each other since we were 13. Even if we haven’t spoken for months or years, we pick up exactly where we left off, and she feels the need to connect and reach out. Another friend shared a story about her beloved dog, who was old and had to be put down a few years ago. She described how, in her dog’s final days, she would see little coloured feathers along the path they walked, as if a signal that her dog would be safe and at peace. She’d never told me that story before and didn’t know about my connection to feathers. Hearing it left me speechless but deeply connected to something more.
So, is the essence of spirituality the acknowledgement of something greater than ourselves? The manifestation of hope? The magical presence of energy and light around us? The beauty of nature reminds us of those we’ve lost? The goosebumps we feel as voices lift in song during a church service? I believe it is.
Our spiritual connection is all around us. We can ignite it within ourselves by taking small moments to breathe it in—to remember lost love, to genuinely watch our children smile, to feel the warmth of a song, the embrace of a hug, a chat with an old friend, or the sight of a feather. We are never alone; maybe we have stopped looking.
Spirituality is not confined to any one definition or experience. The thread connects us to something larger than ourselves, whether through faith, nature, love, or the stories we share with others. By embracing these moments and staying open to the signs around us, we allow ourselves to rediscover the profound connections that bring meaning and light to our lives.
This letter reminds us to open our eyes and truly see the beauty and magic in the deep spiritual connection surrounding us, whatever form it takes.