There is an old Hindu Legend, says Claude Bragdon, that at one time all men on earth were gods, but that men so sinned and abused the Divine that Brahma, the god of all gods, decided that the godhead should be taken away from man and hidden some place where he would never again find it to abuse it.

“We will bury it deep in the earth,” said the other gods.

“No,” said Brahma, “because man will dig down in the earth and find it.”

“Then we will sink it in the deepest ocean,” they said.

“No,” said Brahma, “because man will learn to dive and find it there too.”

“We will hide it on the highest mountain,” they said.

“No,” said Brahma, “because man will some day climb every mountain on the earth and again capture the godhead.”

“Then we do not know where to hide it where he cannot find it,” said the lesser gods.

“I will tell you,” said Brahma, “hide it down in man himself. He will never think to look there.”

And that is what they did. Hidden down in every man is some of the divine. Ever since then he has gone over the earth digging, diving, and climbing, looking for that godlike quality which all the time is hidden down within himself.

It is this spark that I am daring you to turn into a blaze. – “It is this radiance we must recapture.” It is something genuine, something for everyday use. It is the spirit that naturally makes you do the right thing at the right time.

The passage above is an excerpt from William H. Danforth’s book, I Dare You.

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In today’s over-scheduled world, there is little time and few places where we are free to sit still and connect with our spiritual center. That inner voice – perhaps the voice of God – cannot be heard amidst the noise of everyday life.  

As a society, I think that we feel the void. Some say that our obsession with material things is an attempt to fill the spiritual chasm in our world today. Addiction, depression, anxiety – so many of the mental and emotional ailments that we suffer from could be attributed to this disconnect between the body and the spirit.

I often think how much more difficult it must be for us to be faithful than it was for the generations that came before. In a historically Christianity-based society, bedtime prayers, mealtime blessings, and Sunday church services all provided time for our great-grandparents to reflect and explore their faiths. 

Of course, there were skeptics among those who participated in any one of these rituals. Rarely has a person agreed 100% with any particular take on religion. But the point is … spirituality was so much a part of the culture that “the spaces and places” existed – regardless of what you wanted to make of it on a personal level. 

Today, those spaces and places are harder to find. And if they are there, we are not in the habit of seeking them out.

But maybe, as Danforth says, getting back on the road to spiritual exploration begins by simply looking for a hint of the divine within …

Got a light, anyone?

Mary Cassatt - Woman with Baby

I remember attending a play group after my son was born. All of us were toting infants — a roomful of brand-new spanking moms. Although we didn’t know each other then as well as we would in the months to come, someone bravely ended the talk of nap schedules and bottle-feeding when she said, “I’ve been consumed with my mortality lately.”

You could almost hear the collective sigh of relief. “So I’m not the only crazy one!” It seems that we had all begun seeing the world a little differently since the birth of our babes. And not in the way we might have expected. Every woman hears when she’s expecting that “having kids changes you.” Well, no one provided any of the critical details.

Some of the initial morbidity that many of us experienced as new mothers could be attributed to the postpartum hormonal highjacking of our brains. But I know that in my case, anyway, the lenses through which I saw the world became increasingly clouded with fear even as those early days of motherhood faded into the background. What if something horrible happens to my beautiful child? And better yet, what if something happens to me that prevents me from being able to enjoy this magnificent time of life? 

Of course, the media doesn’t help. As a baby shower gift, a friend of mine – with all of the best intentions – gave me a subscription to one of the popular parenting magazines. After a few months, I stopped reading them. They made me a certifiable nervous wreck. One terrifying statistic and horror story after another left me completely paralyzed by fear. 

I’ve given a lot of thought and read a number of books trying to understand what happens to our minds after we have children. It makes sense from a “survival of the fittest” standpoint. As mothers, we must protect our offspring – which means that we also must keep ourselves out of harm’s way. After all, we’re the only ones who are truly capable of safeguarding our little treasures. 

But I think that in addition to our biological makeup is the human mind’s tendency to think, “If something really great is happening right now, then it’s probably about to end. I better get ready.” At least this was the case for me. I was always waiting for the next shoe to drop.

Getting control of my mind has been the singular greatest challenge I’ve faced since giving birth. It far surpasses midnight feedings or grocery-store tantrums. My method for attack in any life crisis has always been research, research, and more research. So I’ve done a lot of reading – from books by psychologists and physicians to spiritual teachers and even mediums. I’ve read them all. 

For my birthday a couple of years ago, a friend of mine gave me the book, Inner Peace for Busy People by Joan Borysenko. In it, Borysenko explains the connection between the mind and body and provides some great anecdotes and practical steps to achieving peace of mind. I would say that her books have been the most helpful in my quest to gain control over my negative thinking — by practicing gratitude, trying not to “catastroph-ize” (or imagine the worst possible outcome to a situation), and by exploring my faith … just to name a few.

Actually, my quest to find mental “balance” is what led me down the road to this blog. Because it’s not just a mind thing — it’s a whole-self thing. I know that I’m not alone in my need to create a stronger “core” self, where every media-induced panic-alarm doesn’t send me into near cardiac-arrest.

But within the global play-group of mothers with a million tasks on their plates, we are often left without a forum for raising our hands and saying, “Hey – am I crazy or …?”

 I bumped into Gracie in the hallway of her apartment building about a year ago. I was delivering a meal for Meals on Wheels to her neighbor, a woman who had just had her 95th birthday bash. When Gracie stopped to talk to me outside her door, I almost fell over when she said, “Yes, my friend in there is 95, and I’m 94 1/2!” She looked not a day over 70.

Gracie invited me and my two kids in for tea, and we stayed for over two hours. She zipped around the apartment preparing tea and cookies — teaching my rather uncultured children the fine art of a proper tea party. Watching her energy and zest for life, I made a mental note to get to know this spirited woman better. When we left that day, I had every intention of returning for a visit shortly. But the best plans of a woman with young children …

This fall we began attending the community church in town on a more regular basis, and it was there that I crossed paths with Gracie once again — she was my son’s Sunday School teacher. The moment I saw her walking around the table cleaning up supplies at the end of the lesson, I knew that I had to make a move. This woman radiated such peace and happiness. “Gracie, would you like to have tea?”

And so it began – Wednesday tea with Gracie. I look forward to it all week. She has the water boiling when I get there, the teapot warming, and the cookies on hand. The table is set with a beautiful floral china set that someone from church mysteriously left at her door. And Gracie is always dressed as if she’s going out for a nice dinner somewhere — makeup on, hair set, and donning two or three necklaces and a different pair of earrings every week.

On our first “date,” I showed up in my ‘around the house’ clothes that I often wear around town, too – but really shouldn’t. My hair was still in the knot I put it in to wash my face in the morning. And I definitely wasn’t wearing any jewelry. But a comment that Gracie made that day stuck with me, and because of it, I arrived in jeans with combed hair the next week.

Over tea, we were talking about her relationship with her mother, who lived with Gracie and her family until she passed away in her mid-80s. When her boys grew up and moved out of the house, Gracie and her mother spent a lot of time at home alone. “But we always made our faces and dressed up for each other,” she said. “My mother didn’t want to look at an ugly face and neither did I, so that’s something we just did for each other.”

I had never thought of it that way. I’ve certainly subjected many a friend and family member to “not-so-good face and hair days.” Not to even mention my husband! Gracie had a few things to say about that too. “My grandmother gave me some good advice,” she said. ” She told me that every day when the children were otherwise occupied, I should lie down for ten minutes before my husband arrived home from work. That way I would greet him with a relaxed, happy face when he walked in the door.” Gracie put on a nice dress and swept her hair into an “up-do,” too — if you’re not smiling that 21st-century-mom smile already.

Things are certainly different today. But Gracie did provide me with some food for thought. I’ve been a little bit more intentional about the way I present myself on a day-to-day basis since then — even if it only means putting a brush through my hair and slapping on a little mascara.