THIS HAPPENED TO ME

My Heart Finally Found Its Voice to Answer Their Awkward Question

It may not be a perfectly good answer, but it finally felt honest and appropriate

It was another one of those days, I dragged myself to bailaterapia [dance therapy] class — it typically helps to reenergize and jump-start my mornings! Looking around the room, I see a few familiar faces. Most are new to the class. Recently, I met four retiree women at our Mother’s Day celebration party.

Once class was finished, I rushed out to meet a deadline. As I rounded the corner to walk down the stone pathway to my car, I noticed one of the four new ladies I had recently met, Mirna, made a beeline from the parking lot straight toward me.

“Hi Natalie, how are you? Oh my goodness — sorry, I’m sweating so much,” she reached in with our customary greeting kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, no worries — it’s great you got a great sweat in class today! I’m good — how are you?”

“Wonderful! — Listen, I wanted to ask you a question,” she noted as she accompanied me to my car.

“What are your beliefs?”

I stopped, went silent but a few seconds — and perhaps had a perplexing look. I can’t be certain.

I haven’t been able to “fake” a pleasant reaction and receive this inquisition as a typical topic of conversation that I discuss with people I newly meet.

She then explained, “Are you Catholic? Christian? Muslim? A believer?”

It’s been three years since I moved to Mexico from the US — and for a solid 1.5 years, I was isolated in quarantine — so it truly feels like two years.

In this last year, I have been asked this direct “beliefs” question by more people in two years than I was ever asked in my 30 years living in the United States — and never by people I recently met.

It’s a bit jarring — it surprises me each time. I sense my reaction is due to a deeper and recent introspection of my beliefs that I do not share publicly. It just hit me writing that — it’s not recent — it’s been 10 years. That’s how quiet it’s been.

I’m not ready to talk about it openly, and I‘m quite comfortable with my decision.

I am asked so often these days, one would think by now I have a trained answer or rather — state my genuine beliefs.

I don’t. This would take a memoir (or ten) to explain.

I have given them the answer they wish to hear or some wishy-washy version that helps my inquirer remain cushioned and content by a congruent world.

I vividly recall how Rosy, who was sitting next to me during my first neighborhood meet-up two years ago, responded to my wishy-washy answer. At that point, everyone around the table shared whether they were Catholic or not —while I sat there screaming in my head, “Seriously, like — who does this?! How is this a normalized ice-breaker conversation among strangers?”

When I replied with my answer, she reached over and hugged me. “It’s all one and the same — so it doesn’t matter!”

Hmm.

So why are we going around the table sharing our answers?

“I’m not religious,” I told Mirna.

Mirna, looked at me, “Oh,” she was now — the surprised one.

She looked like a fish out of water. I then explained, “I respect everyone’s beliefs. It’s okay — I grew up my entire life attending the Catholic Church; I don’t think I missed a single Sunday. I practiced Christianity most of my life — I understand where you’re coming from.

However, I’m in a place in my life where I don’t want to have anything to do with organized religion. I’m fed up with the hypocrisy and what people profess is hardly what their actions demonstrate.”

At this point, poor Mirna was trying to backtrack out of why she asked, but I think I was able to calm her as most who are religious probably feel they are now surrounded by “evil forces” when faced with the unacceptable book reply. Their body language demonstrates their need to flee — lest their faith be shaken.

She began, “Oh I assure you, the Virgin Mary is real. Just know one day it will be clear to you — and you’ll just know. I know in my heart it is so.”

I smiled and listened.

There it was.

I can verbatim dictate what and how both Catholics and Christians will respond to me — each and every time.

She then explained, “I recently went with a group of Matachines, and we went to visit the Virgin of Guadalupe at the Basilica. I received a few [she reaches into her bag to take out some keychains of the Virgin Mary] of these packaged chains that are now blessed. I had wanted to give you one, but since you are not Catholic — no worries.”

I reached out to her hand, quietly and honestly then explained, “Mirna, the fact that your heart shared the intent of not only wanting to bless me but prayed and wanted to give this to me — that’s all I need for my heart to have been touched and for me to feel the sincerity of your gift. That fills me — and that’s all that truly matters.”

I hope she understood what I poorly conveyed — as well as the sincerity of my gratitude.

Who knows?

I have communed with religious people most of my life. I have an inkling of what she’s now thinking.

“I’ll keep her in my prayers. She’s a lost soul — and needs her heart and eyes to be opened.”

But, it’s not my job anymore to soften the blow for others — if what I share disappoints them. If they are going to ask, then they at the very least deserve the truth.

For the first time in the recent past, I found the path to be open and sincere.

Humans crave connection and parallelism — we enjoy being with those who look, act, smell, and talk like “us.” We are comforted when we find another who has “been through” what we have experienced. We are safe when we stay in physical places where our ancestors lived and know the ground we walk on with such familiarity — we can find home blindfolded.

The same is true with beliefs. As a child, I instantly accepted Mom’s beliefs because no matter what, “I am going where Mom is going.”

There was no question!

Just tell me what to say, where to go, and what to do — I am sticking with my family! They protected, nurtured, and loved me…I naturally believed — deeply and sincerely.

Questions eventually do arise. We either entertain them or not.

I have and continue to — and it’s perfectly fine. It’s my path.

No matter what your beliefs are — that is your personal experience. It’s so deeply intrinsic— no two belief systems, spirituality or lack thereof — can be the same.

I understand that is a personal opinion.

Following this thought process, how can anyone expect me to utter in a word or phrase what has now shaped my beliefs that have developed and evolved over the past 30 years? How can you possibly begin to understand from a 2-minute conversation, why I don’t attend church or am often repulsed by dogma and religiosity?

I respect others’ beliefs. I know it’s their world on such a personal level — I listen. I don’t ask what are others’ beliefs. If they share, that’s entirely their decision.

Here’s what I rather do — I observe.

Show me who you are, and then I will believe.

What I would ask is, “Don’t ask me my beliefs unless you are ready to have a lengthy conversation that allows us both the freedom and space to not be judged.”

The language of the soul and each individual’s spiritual path is for each to be respected and valued.

When the language we use to try to describe it differs from one to another, it should not be a source of fear or conflict. Allowing each the space and love to walk our spiritual path is far more important than declaring which is the “right one.”

How you live your life and treat others through the spectrum of the best and worst of times — tells me far more about your spiritual walk than any pontification about your beliefs.

“An ounce of practice is worth more than tons of preaching.” — Mahatma Gandhi

I want to thank Henry India Holden💖 for always writing in such a way that makes me feel safe and welcome when I read their stories. Recently they wrote, For humans, our spiritual practices are as mycelium, connecting us even as our difference can make us feel divided from each other. I hope you’ll read it — or any of their pieces. Thank you, Henry, for your kind support and open heart.