My Search for Meaning

Aging has brought a renewed interest in the spiritual questions I grappled with during my late-night college bull sessions.  Is there a God?  Can prayer make a difference?  What is my spiritual path?

In my middle years I was too busy raising children and building a career to grapple with meaning of life questions with the intensity of my younger self.  Life was too full of distractions to allow for deep spiritual reflection, while the end of life was a distant horizon. Now that I’m in my 70’s, Mother Time reminds me that my clock is ticking rapidly. The greater frequency of deaths among loved ones nudges me to find a spiritual practice to enrich my remaining years.

I’m discovering that I’m not alone.  A recent study by Loyola University on spirituality and religion among older women found that a natural consequence of aging for many women is to engage in contemplative soul-searching. To quote the Loyola study:

A woman in contemplative mode

Aging invites women to come alive in new ways as they honor the journey home to their authentic self, a self that is always larger than what they can dream.

This journey is contingent on time spent alone devoted to reflection.  Time to ourselves is often more abundant as we age, freed from work and family demands.  Mary Pipher, in her bestseller, Women Rowing North, refers to this period in the older woman’s life as “slow time,” offering new opportunities to connect with our souls through writing, listening to music, or being in nature.

Penelope Lively, the British memoirist, practicing contemplation in her garden

For many years, I belonged to the Unitarian Church, but, over time, I grew restless with the Unitarians’ tendency to dismiss God and mystery. I found myself craving deep reflection, ritual, and choral music.

As one who has always questioned the established order, I surprised not only family and friends, but also myself, when I joined a church.  It’s a welcoming progressive church with members, who share my theological struggles, reassuring me that my ambivalent relationship with God isn’t all that unusual.

A 2016 photo of women from my church, State Street Church, Portland, Maine

While church attendance comforts me with allies in my spiritual searching, I still feel a spiritual hole.  I miss being part of a women’s spiritual community, like I experienced during the ‘90’s, when I studied and later taught Women’s Spirituality.  I miss the rituals and deep sharing of those groups. Instead of bemoaning this loss, which I’ve been doing for far too long, my spirit guides are whispering, “Make 2022 your year to develop a women’s circle.”  (Stay tuned.)

A women’s spiritual circle

Carl Jung reminds us that spiritual suffering and struggle are part of life, and our job late in life is to integrate them to move into our authentic selves.

This boils down to facing what we push down, like fears of death, unresolved guilt and anger, or a tendency to devalue oneself. When we face our dark side and do the work involved, we can enter into the light and experience spiritual growth.

This soul work is hard, but I keep at it because I have been rewarded with profound insights. Writing a mother-daughter memoir, where I reflected on my mother’s lifelong struggles produced a new empathy and love for her. Once maternal anger was replaced by maternal love, all my primary relationships softened.  Processing the death of my ex-husband and forgiving him for the hurts he inflicted cleared away more muck in my soul garden.

My ex-husband, Marvin, with grandson, Max, in 2010

I still have ample soul work to do. I know I’ll stumble and regress but having experienced moments of enlightenment, where I feel becalmed and in a sacred space, I’m reminded of the benefits of soul work. I need to hold on to those moments.

I find comfort in the words of Rainer Marie Rilke:

You are not too old

and it is not too late

to dive into your increasing depths

where life calmly gives out

its own secret.