Can You Be Spiritual Without Being Religious?

Finding Faith Beyond the Labels, One Stitch at a Time

Even the oldest trees have room for something new.

Even the Oldest Trees Have Room for Something New

The other day, I was looking at mushrooms growing on one of our trees, and naturally, my overthinking brain had to turn that into a life lesson, too.

Fungi have an interesting job in nature. Some help break down dead wood, returning nutrients to the world around them. Others form relationships with living trees, exchanging nutrients beneath the soil.

And I got to thinking about how much that resembles our own lives.

We spend years growing into who we are, collecting beliefs, experiences, relationships, and lessons along the way. Some things continue to nourish us. Others have served their purpose, and it's time to let them go.

But letting go doesn't mean those experiences were worthless.

Maybe they become part of the soil that helps something new grow.

I haven't thrown away the quilt I started stitching all those years ago. I've simply learned that I can change the pattern, replace a few patches, and add colors I never knew existed.

And just like that old tree, I'm still making room for something new.

---

Apparently, my brain decided we needed another philosophical field trip today. Somewhere between overthinking life and minding my own business, it dawned on me that life is a whole lot like sewing a quilt.

Every experience, every person who crosses our path, every belief we've held and every belief we've questioned becomes another piece of fabric. Some pieces are beautiful. Some are worn thin. And some were handed to us before we were old enough to decide whether we even liked the pattern.

For a long time, I was stitching together a quilt using somebody else's instructions.

And then something happened.

Actually, several somethings.

The First Loose Thread

I grew up in the South, where Christianity wasn't just something people believed. It was woven into practically everything.

I was raised Baptist, converted to Catholicism in my twenties, and spent much of my life considering myself a Christian.

I didn't particularly question that identity. It was what I knew.

But somewhere along the way, I started noticing threads I'd never touched before.

When I was in my twenties, I met a family from India. The woman was preparing to open a Kumon learning center in Jackson, Tennessee, and I helped her look at a couple of locations.

I'd known people of different faiths before, but this was one of my first experiences getting to know someone who actually practiced a different religion.

It got me thinking.

What if the beliefs I'd grown up with weren't the only way to understand our relationship with the Creator?

What if there were other threads worth exploring?

I didn't abandon Christianity that day. There wasn't some dramatic spiritual awakening with thunder, lightning, and a choir singing in the background.

I just started asking questions.

And once those questions started, they didn't particularly care whether they were convenient.

Living in the Spirit of Jesus

Years later, while working at Savannah Volkswagen, a gentleman I worked with said something that's stayed with me.

"You really live in the spirit of Jesus, don't you?"

It was such a simple observation.

But it made me stop and think.

What exactly did that mean?

I'd always considered myself a happy-go-lucky person. I tried to be kind, treat people well, and live a good life.

But was that because I identified as a Christian?

Or was living with love and kindness something much bigger than a religious label?

I began looking more closely at what Jesus actually taught.

And the more I considered his teachings, the more I came to see him differently.

Today, I don't believe Jesus came here to be worshiped. I believe he came to show us a way to live.

Much as Buddha walked a path and shared what he learned, I believe Jesus demonstrated what it means to live through love, compassion, and goodness.

That's my understanding. I know it's different from traditional Christian teachings, and I'm perfectly comfortable with other people understanding Jesus differently.

Their quilt doesn't have to look like mine.

And I wouldn't want to imagine a world where everybody was walking around carrying the exact same quilt. Same colors, same patterns, same stitches. Lord, how boring would that be?

The beauty of life is in our differences. Every quilt tells a story, and every story deserves its own pattern. We can admire the beauty in someone else's quilt without feeling the need to unravel our own.

After all, it takes a whole lot of different patches to make this world as beautiful as it is.

Learning to Weave My Own Beliefs

Another important part of my journey came through Jay and learning about his Kiowa heritage.

Listening to the stories of his people and learning more about their history opened up another way of understanding spirituality.

I began looking at things I'd always accepted simply because that's what I'd been taught.

Was I believing something because it truly resonated with me?

Or because it was the Southern Christian way of believing?

Those are two very different things.

Around that same period of questioning, I followed a longtime Facebook friend's journey as she began deconstructing the strict Pentecostal beliefs she'd grown up with.

Some of the questions she was asking sounded familiar.

Then one day, she shared something written by Jim Palmer.

Reading his words felt like finding someone who had put language to thoughts I'd already been carrying around for years.

It wasn't that somebody had handed me a new set of beliefs.

It was more like discovering that I was allowed to examine the old ones.

And suddenly, I understood something.

I didn't have to follow the spiritual path somebody else had laid out for me. I could take the threads I'd gathered throughout my life and weave my own.

Born of Love, Not in Need of Redemption

One of the biggest changes in my understanding of spirituality has been how I view our relationship with the Creator.

I believe we're born of love.

Not broken. Not defective. Not arriving in this world already needing redemption.

Just human.

And being human means we're going to make mistakes.

Some will be little speed bumps. Others may cause genuine harm to another person.

But I don't believe those mistakes define the entirety of who we are.

That doesn't mean we get to shrug our shoulders, say "Well, nobody's perfect," and carry on like nothing happened.

Absolutely not.

We have a responsibility to acknowledge the harm we've caused, take accountability, make amends where we can, and learn from what we've done.

What I no longer believe is that redemption must come from an outside authority, whether that's a priest, a religious institution, or a distant higher power.

I believe the Creator lives within us.

And that connection calls us to recognize our choices, take responsibility for them, and keep growing.

Not because we're inherently unworthy.

Because we're capable of love, change, and goodness.

Religion Isn't the Enemy

Here's something I want to make perfectly clear.

I don't believe organized religion is inherently bad.

For some people, the structure of a church, the traditions, the fellowship, and the shared beliefs provide tremendous comfort and meaning.

That's wonderful.

I just don't experience it the same way anymore.

There have been times when sitting in a congregation made me feel more like an outsider than part of a community.

And that's a strange feeling when you've spent much of your life identifying with that faith.

There are exceptions.

When Jay and I watch services from a United Methodist church in Savannah, I don't experience that same sense of distance.

It reminds me that community and faith can still feel welcoming.

I simply no longer need an institution to define my relationship with the Creator.

I can appreciate the beauty in someone else's traditions without needing to adopt every belief that comes with them.

There's room for all those different quilts.

Three Grateful Things and a Little Morning Ritual

These days, spirituality looks a lot less like following religious rules and a lot more like noticing the life happening around me.

Sometimes it's appreciating something beautiful outside. Sometimes it's recognizing a blessing in an ordinary moment.

And sometimes it's something as simple as a little morning ritual Jay and I share.

We clap our hands together and rub them, creating warmth through friction. Then we take that warmth in our hands and literally wipe a smile onto our faces.

And with those smiles, we each say aloud three things we're grateful for.

It's simple. It's ours. And it's become one of my favorite ways to start the day.

In fact, this morning Jay got out of bed before we'd done our ritual. I was in the bathroom thinking, Well, how am I supposed to start my day without that?

So we did it together a little later.

And the sweetest part? Matt was there and joined in with something he was grateful for, too.

No church pews. No elaborate ceremony. Just warm hands, smiling faces, and a little gratitude shared between people I love.

Another few stitches in our quilt.

A Quilt of My Own

I don't have all the answers, and I'm no longer convinced I'm supposed to.

What I do have is a lifetime of experiences, lessons, questions, mistakes, love, and little moments of gratitude. Some of those pieces came from Christianity. Some came from learning about other spiritual paths. Others came from the people I've loved and the life I've lived.

And every day, I find another little patch worth sewing into place.

The quilt I've been stitching my entire life has changed quite a bit from the pattern I started with. Some threads I've kept. Others I've gently set aside. And there's still plenty of room for new ones.

But here's the beautiful part.

The quilt I've made is finally warm, snuggly, and fits me.

And maybe that's what being spiritual without being religious means to me.

Not having all the right answers.

Just finding a way to live with love, gratitude, curiosity, and enough room to keep growing.

And allowing everybody else the freedom to stitch their own.

A'ho Namaste. 🌿

---

A Little More Soulshine

Spirituality doesn't come with a one-size-fits-all pattern. For anyone exploring their own path, there's more to discover at A’ho Namaste, including Spiritual Healing for Real Life and our collection of five spiritual guidebooks.

A little curiosity. A little compassion. And plenty of room to make the journey your own.