Letting Go of Jesus

I wrote a letter to a friend today, discussing the Avalon East Pagan Gathering that's being held not far from where I live. She, too, follows her own spiritual path, and our discussion about this event and others led to the following paragraphs:

...But I DO embrace an earth-based spirituality. If anything, I guess I'm more an "eclectic pagan" or a "neo-pagan"... I'm not sure one has to put a label to it, anyway. I believe in a higher power, that's for sure. I don't necessarily think of it as a Goddess or God, but more like an all-knowing spirit. But for two years now, I've had this overwhelming need to get closer to...nature? the Earth? In a spiritual way. Thinking of spirit as earth and moon and stars, forests and streams and oceans...those things are constant. Reliable. Touchable. Tangible. I can go hug a tree. :-) And this need is not borne of a desire to worship, but rather a search for peace, I believe.

I guess I feel the need to get closer to something peaceful that's REAL. I've completely turned away from any Christian associations. I respect those who adhere to that in the same way I'd expect them to respect my spirituality...There's just so much about Christianity that I can't buy or accept *for me*. And if I'm honest with myself, there's still a teeny little part of me that keeps looking over my shoulder when I say that, waiting for that proverbial bolt of lightning! I guess that comes from years of having it beat into your head. I don't despise Jesus...he just isn't the one for me...

Now that I've exposed my confusion about my search for peace and meaning, one sentence stuck out as I re-read this...it is hard to let go of Jesus. To relinquish the Christian rites that were more or less forced upon you as a child and young adult. All the troubled times you prayed, for favors and forgiveness, answered or not. Even though I'm at peace with my decision, there is still that tiny, nagging voice. It's almost like mourning for something beautiful that could have been, but never was. Like a promise not kept. If that makes any sense.

There are no coincidences. There are many things--some of them serendipitous--that have brought me to this place. I remember the first time I watched the movie Phenomenon--the scene where George closes his eyes and sways to the rhythm of the wind in treetops. I remember thinking wow, that's the sort of peace I want. And I've swayed to the wind in the trees many times since then. That was a very long time ago. I remember the first Loreena McKennitt CD I bought and how amazed I was at both the lyrics and melodies of those songs. I remember the night I dropped my daughter off at a rave about an hour from my apartment. As we pulled to the side of the graveled road, you could see a group of young people who had formed a drum circle at the edge of a lake. A huge, September moon, full and balanced on the horizon, lit the scene. Other parents shook their heads and couldn't wait to leave...I thought, how magical, and longed to join in. Books, music, friends' conversations, signs.

I've let go of Jesus. It wasn't that difficult. But I suspect there will still be those moments when, like a homesick child, I'll forget my new-found happiness and remember where I've come from. But rather than looking back, I'll smile and wave and keep walking.