Many people ask me about my inspiration for writing A Ceremony Called Life, and what it is about. The inspiration was simple: to share the scent of the sacred with others, a trail that may lead them into seeing the miraculous nature of every day. What it is about is our invitation to orient towards the sacred in all moments of life--and that is what I am inspired to share a bit more about now.
The book covers a lot ground, but at the center of it all is the direction of orienting over and over again back into witnessing life with eyes that are willing to see the sacred. That choose to look at the sacred. That allow themselves to see and recognize the sacred, even when it looks different than they want or wish.
Sometimes I consider how "conscious life" and "embodied spirituality" can perhaps be simply explained as orientation. Over and over again, throughout life, we have the opportunity to "come back" into the present moment, and to orient ourselves into the perspective of our divine self, (which could only ever include the human self--for now, at least!). For example, I could choose to view a fight with my husband as "another problem" and scoff at it as an inconvenience-and no one is going to stop me if I do. But that wouldn't take me anywhere, and certainly wouldn't take me to truth. The other option I have, (and when we get to the crux of it, we can see that it's not even an option or a choice, but simply the overflow of living in love)--the other option I have is to view that challenging moment with my husband as a gift to look under the surface of what is REALLY going on: what need is unmet within both or one of us; what do we wish to say that needs to be heard, understood simply, and acknowledged; where can I tune into the essence of compassion where I perhaps once felt resistance; and so on. This latter way of aligning with the moment is the gift that keeps giving, and is an example of orienting into the sacred (or the "ceremony," as the metaphor of the book goes.)
I hope you find this useful and supportive.