Is it Spiritual or Religious

by | Mar 12, 2015 | Spotlights | 0 comments

When I write something about my spirit, does it belong to a religion? When I tell what aches my soul and what drives it to keep on this jagged road and fierce battle inside, does my struggle belong to a specifically tailored god? When I try to figure out the ways in and out my psyche and learn to lead it better, do I seek out the means inside my spirit, or do I wait for religion to tell me which way to look to find the answer; anywhere but inside?!

Is my writing spiritual or religious? Although many stories might seem to have come from a certain religion, the reason behind these stories is to search within and try to figure out a place for the spirit to fit in this world of chaos. If it reaches the spirit, it does not matter then if it belongs to any religion; it does not matter which god it worships. All that matters is the journey taken within, for long have we been searching for the light somewhere outside, while life with all its lights and secrets lie right inside our spirits.

I apologize for any offense some might take from my Spiritual Echoes, but there are none inflicted in the first place, for the sole reason for all these spiritual talks is to brighten and widen the space within to see better from inside out, and through our differences we flourish like the many flowers of spring. Leave out one shade of one color and you will mar the spring. This is how our spirits are, just as colorful, and spring does not come without its colors. I will seek out the colors inside, join me in this journey to the core of ourselves.

December 29, 2015



Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Want More Like This Post?

Does It Really Matter

Did it matter then, she asked herself, walking towards Bond Street, did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely? All this must go on without her; did she resent it; or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely?Does It Really...

I Don’t Understand

There must have been a thousand ways in front of me when I finally chose one. Not saying that I knew them all, or that all were available, but I took the one and I marched along. Walking a little, singing a little, feeling tired a little, even frustrated sometimes,...

My Story with Writing

I don’t remember a lot about my grandfather, except for my running towards him and trying to say a couple of words in Armenian, and I would usually stand by his chair and repeat the words my mother would have taught me, and he would smile at me and I barely understood...