In childhood traditional Church of England encompassed it. Sunday service was a time spent with grandparents and family, reciting psalms as poetry and signing to the hearts contentment. As time went past, cherished loved ones passed and traditions faded. The songs felt limp and no longer burst from the breast. Wars continued, based on religious facades, and Christianity grew tiresome.
Slowly a belief whispered. It did not knock loudly, it did not demand attention. It did not creep either. It was always there, quietly in the background, waiting patiently. As time rolled by understanding grew. Childhood silliness replaced by everyday appreciation of what it all means, what it symbolises, how it makes absolute sense. Everyday thankfulness for being alive and acknowledging what is present in life rather than what is missing has built a great spirituality within. Using the fruits of nature to remain healthy and to cleanse has become common place; using divination to bring into being what is desired has become routine; meditation and reflection has erased fear, stress and anxiety. Peacefulness is felt within instead of being longed for. Judgement no longer exists, respect for everyone and their individual paths prevails. Poetry is amplified from every living thing, every time a door is opened and a step taken outside.