5 Ways to Jump Start Your Spiritual Life

Getting out the Door

When I complain that I don’t have enough motivation to get out the door and go running, my sister-in-law often reminds me: “That’s what separates the runners from the non-runners.”

She’s quoting a line I often give to her. Anyone can run, the difference is just that some people actually do. I’ve been a runner for years, and I still have a hard time just getting myself out the door. I don’t think that challenge ever goes away.

Developing your spiritual life works the same way as developing a fitness routine. Anyone can do it: what matters is that you go do it. The advice below isn’t anything new or fancy or complicated because I believe that what you do doesn’t matter as much as that you do it.

What separates a plateaued spiritual life from a thriving one is just getting out the proverbial door.

5 ways to jump start your spiritual life

• Get a different perspective

I’m not speaking metaphorically here. I mean literally changing your usual point of view. Lay on your kitchen floor, pray from inside your closet, go barefoot for a few hours, roll down a hill, get into your house by climbing through a window, walk home on a different street.

I’m often amazed at what I miss because I’ve become dissociated from what I’m doing, which is too bad because earth’s crammed with heaven.

• State what you want

If you know you want something different in your spiritual life, you need to tell someone. Preferably multiple someones. Tell God — meaning pray about what you want. Tell your support system — meaning call on the people who care about you for encouragement and accountability.

And if someone in particular is involved in the change you want, tell them. If you want a deeper relationship with her, ask her over for dinner. If you want some empathy and compassion, ask him for it. If you want more worship time, ask friends to join you. You might not get a ‘yes,’ but the act of stating what you want is clarifying and freeing in itself.

• Pray without ceasing

In order to do this, you’re probably going to have to re-frame your idea of prayer. If you’re not a big fan of being seen talking to yourself in public, put in an earpiece and talk to God on the phone. Sometimes, when I feel words aren’t enough, I make up songs. Write daily gratitude lists, practice the spiritual examen at night, designate certain doors as “pray-ways” and commit to praying every time you walk through that particular door, do yoga, walk a labyrinth, find a new worship service, recruit a prayer partner, write prayers on your walls, set up an altar in your bedroom.

Whatever prayer practices you develop, they should work for you. It isn’t about quotas or answers or self-pressure or expectations. It’s about opening your heart a little bit wider every chance you get.

• Talk to someone very young or very old

Children and elders have incredible wisdom, and, generally, they love to share it! If you find yourself asking tough questions in your own faith journey, ask those same tough questions to someone profoundly brilliant, like a 5-year-old. Or make friends with one of the seniors in your community and ask them to share a time when they learned a valuable life lesson. I’m telling you, stories are everywhere.

• Learn your Enneagram type

I first learned about the Ennegram personality types from my spiritual director. I find the Enneagram more helpful than other personality typographies because it is geared towards self-understanding and personal development. Knowing my own tendencies and weaknesses has helped me deepen my self-acceptance and learn to move through those places where I get “stuck” more easily. Becoming familiar with other Enneagram types has helped me to understand other people (especially those who annoy or scare me) and tap into the strengths they bring to the table. This has been one of the most powerful tools I’ve found for personal and relational growth.

All kinds of great books have been written about the Enneagram. Fr. Richard Rohr has written about the Enneagram from a Christian perspective. Don Riso wrote a series of Releases and Affirmations for each type that I find both healing and convicting. Talk about spiritual growth! [In case you're curious, friends, I'm a 6.]

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What do you do when your spiritual life needs a jump start? What practices have you found most helpful for growing spiritually?

Delight

Delight yourself in the Lord…
Psalm 37:4a

Delight: to take great pleasure in; to please greatly; extreme satisfaction

My new favorite running route takes me on the footpath around Fresh Pond. It hugs the 2.5 mile perimeter of the pond, and — aside from occasional entry points from the neighborhood streets — the path is surrounded by trees.

It’s lovely.

Yesterday evening, I arrived at the footpath via one of these entry points at precisely the same moment a boy of 7 or 8 biked past. He turned to look at me as I stepped onto the path and, at just the same time, rode directly through a gigantic puddle.

His eyes, saucer-wide, stayed locked on mine for the whole trip through the puddle.

This particular puddle was not just wet; it was muddy. Supremely muddy. And in those few seconds, this kid was covered in mud — all up his back, splattered on his face, everywhere.

It was awesome.

The perfection of our timing, combined with my knowledge that riding through a muddy puddle as a kid is the ultimate adventure, made me so happy that I grinned and giggled out loud.

The boy, who had stopped his bike, was still staring at me. When I laughed, a quiet, tiny smirk of pure pleasure crossed his face, as though my joy had given him permission to savor the moment.

Delight.

May our experience of God be as joy-filled as the trip of a 7-year-old boy through a muddy puddle. May the openness of our hearts allow us to soak up the sweetness of every moment’s perfect timing. May the strength of our communities be measured by the belly-depth of our laughter.

Dear Me: a Letter to my Teenage Self

Dear teenage self:

I’ve spent some time thinking about you, and I’m ready to share some pretty important insight. Please read carefully.

Cut your hair short and forget about piercing your ears.

Other than that, your fashion decisions are great: the jeans and t-shirt look will work for you for many years to come!

Listen to your parents and take the ACT again.

Then stop listening to them and just go to the college you like.

Stop dating older boys. Actually, just stop dating.

Or, don’t. It’s probably better to get that stupidity out of your system before you hit your twenties. Really, you will be lucky to date all great guys, each one better than the last (for the most part). And you will get over each and every one of them, I promise. (Except, of course, for the last one.)

Also, I think your life will be a whole lot easier if you start doing these two things sooner: going to therapy and listening to folk music.

And don’t feel shy about telling people about either one.

I’ll admit, this insight isn’t particularly profound or life-changing, and here’s why:

The problem with giving you advice is that every decision you make is part of making you the incredible woman you grow into.

I don’t think I want you to do anything differently, because I want you to become the very person you already are.

When I look back on how it was to be you, I feel a little bit of sadness over how angsty and lonely things were for you, and then I just feel a lot of pride.

I’m proud of the way you learn to articulate yourself and become intuitive about the world around you.

I’m proud of the way you respect your body (even when you don’t) and always run your best race.

I’m proud of the way you love to learn and realize your need to be challenged.

I’m proud of the way you care about your friends in a wide-open-hearted kind of way.

And I’m definitely proud of the way you love Jesus and the church.

I know your faith is like the steady point in the midst of confusion and change, and I know you’re building that faith brick-by-brick, with careful, steady hope. You’re building it through all those conversations in the back of the cross-country van, all those self-taught Bible studies, and all those nights sneaking in to play the sanctuary piano.

And for that, I am more than just proud. I am grateful.

Because of you, I am.

Because of you, I am still one of those crazy runners who runs because they actually like it.

Because of you, I am still one of those crazy Christians who goes to church because they actually like it.

Because of you, I will get two theology degrees and eventually work in ministry. Because of you, I will write a thesis and finish a triathlon and travel to Ecuador and climb mountains. Because of you, I will travel and fall in love and become a wilderness guide and start a blog and build houses.

So, dear teenage self, my message for you is this: you’re doing everything right. You’re right on time.

And you, God’s daughter, lack nothing.

Sincerely, in deepest love and utmost faith,

Bristol, the adult version

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I’m looking forward to reading Emily Freeman’s new book, Graceful! You should hop over to her lovely blog and read other Dear Me letters.

Detour Reflections

Listen to everything.
Because everything in life is important.
Listen with the heart:
with feeling for the other,
with feeling for the Word,
with feeling for the God
who feels for us.
Joan Chittister, The Monastery of the Heart, 9-10

Think, dear [one], of the world you carry within you…
What goes on in your innermost being is worthy of your whole love.
Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet, 46-47

Ripening into Rightness

It’s evening, and I’m tired. But, as so often happens, the day doesn’t quite feel complete until I pull on my running shoes and move out into the world one more time. I have lived here for three years ago, and it is this sacred practice of running that has always connected me to this place, to all the places I have kept.

The air is misty; clouds drift between trees and houses like wandering spirits. Back lit by the setting Western sun, the sky is magnificent, perfect. As I pass, neighborhood cats eye me warily. They do not vacate the sidewalk at my approach but seem to occupy it all the more firmly. The sound of laughter and chatter from backyard get-togethers drifts past, and I realize how deeply I long for community and togetherness, how lonely and unsatisfied I have been. These have been three years of trial, of transformation.

Still, my time here has seemed important. It feels as though I’ve been gathering the pieces of my identity toward my core, like cabbage collapsing in on itself to form a head. The cabbage isn’t ready for harvest until it has time to pull itself inward, to center itself tightly, to ripen into rightness.

Detours and Pools of Light

Over the next few weeks, I will be pushing through to complete my Americorps term of service. This year has been an unexpected detour in my life – a detour into public school work, a detour into full-time volunteerism, a detour into the lives of inner-city children.

Coming to the other end, I feel a sense of solidity and completeness. Perhaps this period of my life has indeed ripened into rightness. Who can tell how the detour changes our experience of particular journeys, or whether we can even call the path we end up taking a ‘detour’ at all? Once we have stepped onto it, the path we take becomes the way we go. There is no other way.

I think often of the story Anne Lamott recounts of her pastor Veronica’s description of how God directs our lives by revealing one pool of light in front of us at a time into which we can step. We wait, marooned in that tiny pool of light, until the next step is illuminated for us. (Traveling Mercies, 84)

I know well the fear that another pool of light may not appear, and the relief and gratitude when it does.

For tonight, I am cherishing each step. I am allowing myself space to reflect, and I am honoring that precious world within me with my whole love.

And I am waiting for the next pool of light.

The Fullness of Joy

We do not have to die to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
In fact we have to be fully alive.
Thich Naht Hahn, Touching Peace, 8

Joy: A Continual Feast

One of my favorite Buddhist teachers, Pema Chödrön, writes:

Authentic joy is not a euphoric state or a feeling of being high.
Rather, it is a state of appreciation that allows us to participate fully in our lives.
The Places that Scare You, 79

Paul made this same connection. Most people are familiar with the line “the peace of God will guard you hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus,” but we should take a look at what surrounds that passage:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say: rejoice!
Let your gentleness be known to everyone.
The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything,
but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving
let your requests be made known to God.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:4-5

Paul connects the practice of living gently – with thanksgiving and peacefulness – with being joyful!

When you are filling your life with rejoicing, there’s no room left for worry or anxiety. You empty your life of that worry and anxiety in order to make room for gentleness and joy to fill your life, buoyed by thankful prayer.

And the result of living this kind of life? Deep, abiding peace moves in to guard your very soul.

Proverbs 15 declares that a “joyful heart has a continual feast” (Proverbs 15:15b). A continual feast! That bounty is already all around us: in God’s presence, in the beauty of our world, in the pleasures of living. It is joy that opens up our eyes to live fully into that goodness.

Practices of Fullness

So how do we actually bring this kind of authentic presence into our daily lives?

Here are five practices I use to participate fully in my life. (Note: None of these will be surprising or at all original. But these are often suggested because they are indeed effective and helpful.)

• Mindfulness – I took a mindfulness course recently, and I’ve been using some of the really basic practices learned there: a daily practice of mindful breathing, fostering compassion for myself and those around me, bringing awareness into my body and present experience, etc.

• Running – Running has always been an important practice for me. It gives my brain time and space to relax, to just kind of float with me while I run the beautiful neighborhoods of the East Bay. Running also helps me balance my health and sleep better.

• Journaling – I write, a lot. I try to also let myself draw when I feel led to, even though I’m not a very gifted visual artist. I write a lot of poetry, just to be able to express emotions that are holding me, so I can better move through them.

• Gratitude – Nothing kills anxiety like a good gratitude list. This is a practice I’d like to grow more. Listing things – small or significant – for which I’m grateful is always calming and healing for me. (If you want to develop a practice of gratitude, check out Ann’s resources.)

• Solitude – Because I’m someone who can easily fill up my life with other people’s feelings and words, I need to be sure to practice aloneness, so I become familiar with the ground of my own experience. Usually, this means prayer, worship, or hiking for me. I take the time to really ask myself what I need to relax, and then I make space for that activity to happen.

Share with us: what practices help you cultivate joy? How do you empty your life of anxiety and worry to make room for gentleness and joy? What does it mean to you to live fully?

P.S.

Living fully alive is a big theme for me! Want to read more about why I think living fully alive is an important part of the Christian life? Check out this post or this one or this one …