As I look back on my journey I realize I’ve transitioned through three distinct phases: religion, spirituality, and now practical spirituality. This isn’t something I intentionally set out to do. It resulted naturally from my desire to find meaning and purpose in day-to-day experiences. Finding balance wasn’t good enough: I didn’t believe they should be separate. I wanted to put my life in a more comprehensive context, to link the two and come up with a cohesive whole. I wanted a framework to answer my questions of what my life was for, how I fit, and how God fit. I wanted a construct that served me in good times and bad, that made sense, was doable and was as constant as the North Star.

I was born and raised a Catholic. As in any organized religion there are rules, ceremonies, rituals, and devotional practices that govern adherence and define the appropriate worship of God. For 45 minutes a week my family was “religious.” Every Sunday morning my mother, my sister, my two brothers, and I would dress up and go to church. My maternal grandparents would come with us. My dad would stay home: he’d had a falling out with a priest about working on Sundays and was in violation of the rules.

We listened to mass in a foreign language, watched the holy manners assumed, and tried not to fidget with boredom for fear of “the look.” Once outside and in the car, my mother would curse like a truck driver trying to get out of the parking lot. What was that about? My young mind took note and drew a blank trying to reconcile our religious actions and our everyday lives. What was the point? It seemed that performing the ritual, the form, had more importance than living in a loving way. I couldn’t see how the two were connected. And what was the priest saying?

It seemed to me that things were held together by a tremendous amount of fear and guilt. I would watch my grandfather—a quiet man and a devout Catholic—reading his prayer book, his lips silently forming the words, his hands shaking because of his tight grip on the worn book. His attention was complete and his commitment was daily. My sister asked him why he prayed all the time and he told her “God is like a hungry lion that will devour you unless you pray to Him.” He mentioned not wanting to go to hell when he died.

My inability to rationalize my experience of religion and my unwillingness to go on blind faith led me away from Catholicism and into spirituality. As a broad concept, it involved a process of personal transformation, independent of any specific religious context although many times, as in my case, precipitated by it. As a subjective experience, my emphasis was finding meaning in my life and a connection to something bigger than me. In other words an inside job where I sought the answers from within.

There are many people who describe themselves as spiritual, not religious, but they cannot explain exactly what that means. Like me, their religious upbringing didn’t quite fit, so they sought something more fulfilling. I find most believe in God and the importance of being kind, loving, and mindful. Practices include yoga and meditation. Essentially, it still feels as if something is missing. Awareness is there but it’s not the foundation upon which everything else in their lives rests.

I want more. I want a spirituality that informs every aspect of my life and acts as the basis for all I think, say, and do. By consciously and actively choosing to examine every situation, every relationship, I find myself with the opportunity to choose love, thus I’m integrating the truth of who I am into everything I’m being and doing daily. For me it’s the most practical way to live. Meaning and purpose, and how God fits and how I fit, become relevant in each and every instance. It’s not a theory but a daily guide for living. This is what I call practical spirituality. Untangling past programming isn’t easy but the rewards in freedom, joy, and gratitude far outweigh the effort. There is clarity in the chaos.