#reflection “They’re not spiritual, like us.” My friend declared nonchalantly. While it was common knowledge that we were in a circle of 'spiritual people,' the spiritual label wasn't sitting right—something about categorizing and quantifying my spiritual nature seemed distinctly unspiritual to me in that moment. It felt too self-aware, like David Foster Wallace's 'hip sincerity,' where even authenticity becomes a brand.” Yet, despite this incongruent feeling, If a survey asked me, "How spiritual would you say you are?” - Not at all spiritual - Slightly spiritual - Moderately spiritual - Very spiritual - Extremely spiritual I'd have to check off, "Extremely Spiritual" because either you are or you're not, right? Many things about me fit the bill - from meditating in monasteries, to Ayahuasca Ceremonies in Costa Rica. I've spent my entire 20's teaching power yoga, while gemstones adorn my house, mini-altars occupy small corners, and a framed picture of His Holiness himself, the Dalai Lama, sits on my counter. Sounds pretty spiritual... I wasn't in denial, yet something was creating resistance. Of course, that's not the whole picture but a coarse glance at one fractal contained within "many multitudes," as Whitman put it. Another glance reveals me working on rowdy construction sites with the boys, eating desert three times a day, and unwinding by watching crude and raunchy reels of sitcom television. Doesn't exactly match the spiritual aesthetic of mala beads and incense burning through the night, but perhaps these are prayers nevertheless. For a long time, these seemingly different sides of myself clashed: a sensitive star gazer mixed with a 90's suburban/Italian, blue collared boy whose grandparents were from Brooklyn. My spirituality was wedged somewhere between tranquil moments of meditating in the rain with my journal and mixing mounds of cement that Uncle Louie might have urinated in. Surely both couldn't belong under the same 'spiritual' label. "They're not spiritual like us," triggered an aggressive curiosity in me. Why was my spirituality so assumed? What makes a person spiritual to begin with? Is it organic shopping and paraben-free shampoo? Is it seeking contrarian fullfillment? Could it be the earnest desire to surrender to a higher power? Is it repenting on Sundays beneath the crucifixion? Or wearing lots of tie-dye and taking psychedelics? I don't think the answer is in a ritual or cliche but rather a choice of perception. Our human nature implies our spiritual nature. What you find to be sacred or holy is personal and doesn't need to fit into any broad categories or charlatanic standards. Your spirituality exists without needing validation or a clever meme to sum it up. If you find nothing in this world to be sacred and find God to be a farce, then may you frolic proudly like a Paige in the land of 'nothing-sacred,' exalting your beliefs nevertheless. No one escapes their spiritual nature. Even if you loathe the modern crystal junkies or Lululemon-wearing 'yoga-letes,' your very loathing is your sainthood. May you be a beacon for those who loathe the same as you. Do you want to know who I think the real spiritual people are? It's anyone who recognizes our interconnectedness ...tethered to the fabric of reality and nothingness simultaneously.... perpetually mending our broken hearts while gradually waking up to the illusion of separateness. Each of us born with a destiny to die and during the in-between...we write our bible. At the end of the day, I'm as spiritual as my mother was, and as virtuous as my father was. They resemble their parents, and their parents resemble theirs, and this resembling of one another goes all the way back to the beginning of time before being 'separated-from-source' was even a thing! So my real question is: Are we growing further apart or finding our way back together? And I'm willing to bet the answer is a 'spiritual' one. As Ram Dass so perfectly put it, 'We're all just walking each other home' BLURB "They’re not spiritual like us." Was a comment that instigated a distinct gut reaction that made me question everything I thought I knew about myself and led me on a search for clarity about my own spiritual nature. This piece is about the inquiry into the sacred and the profane, the polished and the pulverized, the churches and the construction sites that live in all of us. It’s a reflection on what it means to be spiritual in a human life—and the less-than-perfect standards we give to our gods. May it resonate with both your inner priest and your wild beast. See you on the threshold.