Campbell - Spirituality and Scotland
It's an interesting to have a spiritual experience without being a spiritual/religious person in general. I was raised Roman Catholic, went to Catholic school, attended church biweekly, the whole nine yards. By the start of my high school career, I felt that I had virtually outgrown my religious identity; I not longer associated with the rigid tenants of the Catholic faith and, as I began experimenting with the principles of science, I lost vision and trust in a supreme deity. I completely stopped considering myself 'Catholic' by the end of high school, and began college at Christopher Newport with a more logical, empirical state of mind.
In spite of my divergence from the religiosity of my past, I still felt spiritual twinges which no psychology course has yet to explain. It's a feeling I get when I'm walking to class and the sky is so rich and blue it makes the rest of the Earth look dark in comparison. It's a feeling I get when I smell the fresh honeysuckle growing around my backyard upon my first return for summer vacation. It is something so wholly beyond the realm of sensation, beyond the human grasp of our interaction with the natural world, that I can only explain it as spiritual. No, I still do not believe in a god or God or the Goddess; no, I do not think that I have a soul which will reincarnate or pass onto paradise after death. Quite frankly, I do not know what I believe, but I am cognizant of what I feel.
My most recent spiritual experience was during my visit to the Highlands while I was studying abroad in Scotland. It was the third weekend of September, as class field trip to the Isle of Skye several hours north of Glasgow. The island is situated off the Sound of Raasay, and our giant coach somehow squeezed onto an ancient ferry that crossed the sound to the island. The views - breathtaking is the only possible way to describe them. Monumental rolling mountains, shrouding the vibrant green against a pale sky. White specks of sheep scattered the mountainside, some bearing blue paint to mark their possession to one farmer or another. Crumbling ruins of archaic churches and ranch houses, covered in moss or protruded by trees, rested humbly in the hidden valleys between monolithic cliffs.
On our midday hike, stretching our legs after a long journey around Skye's perimeter, our class climbed to the steep top of one mountain range. I remember looking out: the sky was so sharp that day, crashing against the rugged black edges of the seaside cliffs. Raasay's waters slapped against the rocks, white foam frothing like a rabid dog, powerful, begging for your attention. The air was so fresh, unlike the stuffiness of the cities which we had previously been touring. Sheep yawed from below, enjoying their lunch as I enjoyed my view. I had the urge to run, to yell, to express that spiritual twinge that I could not describe. Words were useless; language had betrayed my mind. Only could I feel the moment that I was living, grasp it with all of my senses and beyond them.
This is what I think when I read and learn about the primal religions. It is an understanding beyond what mere communication can explain. How do we communicate with the venerable tree or the quick-paced brook? What is the common language which we share? It is something that cannot be explained through science or religion, I believe; it is something which you must intuitively recognize and apply. That is the nature of spirituality, and one day I might be able to fully understand it.
In spite of my divergence from the religiosity of my past, I still felt spiritual twinges which no psychology course has yet to explain. It's a feeling I get when I'm walking to class and the sky is so rich and blue it makes the rest of the Earth look dark in comparison. It's a feeling I get when I smell the fresh honeysuckle growing around my backyard upon my first return for summer vacation. It is something so wholly beyond the realm of sensation, beyond the human grasp of our interaction with the natural world, that I can only explain it as spiritual. No, I still do not believe in a god or God or the Goddess; no, I do not think that I have a soul which will reincarnate or pass onto paradise after death. Quite frankly, I do not know what I believe, but I am cognizant of what I feel.
My most recent spiritual experience was during my visit to the Highlands while I was studying abroad in Scotland. It was the third weekend of September, as class field trip to the Isle of Skye several hours north of Glasgow. The island is situated off the Sound of Raasay, and our giant coach somehow squeezed onto an ancient ferry that crossed the sound to the island. The views - breathtaking is the only possible way to describe them. Monumental rolling mountains, shrouding the vibrant green against a pale sky. White specks of sheep scattered the mountainside, some bearing blue paint to mark their possession to one farmer or another. Crumbling ruins of archaic churches and ranch houses, covered in moss or protruded by trees, rested humbly in the hidden valleys between monolithic cliffs.
On our midday hike, stretching our legs after a long journey around Skye's perimeter, our class climbed to the steep top of one mountain range. I remember looking out: the sky was so sharp that day, crashing against the rugged black edges of the seaside cliffs. Raasay's waters slapped against the rocks, white foam frothing like a rabid dog, powerful, begging for your attention. The air was so fresh, unlike the stuffiness of the cities which we had previously been touring. Sheep yawed from below, enjoying their lunch as I enjoyed my view. I had the urge to run, to yell, to express that spiritual twinge that I could not describe. Words were useless; language had betrayed my mind. Only could I feel the moment that I was living, grasp it with all of my senses and beyond them.
This is what I think when I read and learn about the primal religions. It is an understanding beyond what mere communication can explain. How do we communicate with the venerable tree or the quick-paced brook? What is the common language which we share? It is something that cannot be explained through science or religion, I believe; it is something which you must intuitively recognize and apply. That is the nature of spirituality, and one day I might be able to fully understand it.
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