I have always been connected to my spiritual beliefs but grew up without religion. Rather than spending time in churches and youth groups, I was raised with a deep appreciation for Indigenous culture. As a child, I was heavily influenced by their traditional teachings around animal totems. My mom was close friends with an indigenous woman, and we always had books in our home about the sacredness of animals, the wisdom they carry, and what lessons we can learn from them.

Learning about animals was my initiation into learning about spirituality and connecting to a reality that’s often more real than this one. I remember being a child and seeing visions of things and not understanding them. I was comforted that they were often animals when I saw these visions. Their presence was connected to teachings, representing essential lessons from which humans could gain wisdom.

I am not an Indigenous person; I am predominantly Celtic in genetics and appearance, but I heavily relied on those teachings because those were the animals I would interact with as a child because they were native to this region. When I would go out into the woods and see an owl or have visions of ants or lynxes, my mom would read up on the medicine connected to those animals. She would explain what they represented and how they were teachers for us, and I took great comfort in that.

Although “traditional” religion was absent from my life, the animal teachers were akin to reading a sacred text growing up or learning about biblical parables in Sunday school. I appreciate those lessons because learning through the guise of an animal “teacher” made much more sense and felt more accurate than any time I spent in a religious institution. I’ve always had a deep appreciation for animals because I struggled with connecting to people, and animals were always accepting, loving, and unconditional in their approach to me.

I felt so isolated and alienated because I never really knew my father’s side of the family. Even though I spoke to my grandmother quite a bit, which I immensely appreciated, I always felt “half adopted” because I never really knew or understood certain parts of myself. As an adult, when I could speak to my relatives, I recognized aspects of myself that always seemed out of step with the rest of my family. I remembered knowing that my grandmother on my father’s side was a practicing Catholic and that my father was raised Catholic, and I thought maybe I wanted to be Catholic too. So, I decided to attend a religion class held after school on Wednesday nights at my elementary school. Fortunately, I only went to one class because I immediately realized it was not for me when the instructor asked the group to answer, “When do we meet God? When are we introduced to God?”

I remember naively putting up my hand and confidently answering, “When we are born,” and quickly being appalled when the instructor informed me that I was wrong and that someone would need to be baptized to have that connection with God. I remember being horrified; I knew that was untrue because that notion went against all my personal experiences. I knew deep within my soul that I had a connection to God, and hearing an adult tell me otherwise made me question the entire institution in that one moment.

Just hearing how someone could invalidate my spirituality so quickly and suggest that a source that I had prayed to in various moments in my life—like when my cat wasn’t feeling well or when family members were sick, and hearing her tell me that this figure didn’t know who I was? That those prayers were never heard, and even if they had been, would have been ignored solely because her church believed so—was an interaction that didn’t sit well with me.

I immediately felt so alienated knowing I was the only one in that room who hadn’t been baptized, and rather than listen and absorb her views on what religious doctrine instructed her to believe, I decided to remove myself from the situation, which just made sense to me. I had been fine without this religion until now, and I didn’t want to be part of one that saw me as something I wasn’t.

I remember towards the end of the evening, the instructor swore by mistake and immediately told us not to tell anyone, which was a huge red flag for me, and I couldn’t wait to go home and tell my mom what had happened. I now view that interaction as obviously way more problematic as an adult, and I’m so thankful I felt those uncomfortable emotions so quickly so I didn’t have to subject myself to more rooms full of people that would have skewed my perception of who I was, and perhaps even impact my relationship with the divine source.

I remember leaving and apologizing to my mom because I had taken $5 with me that night for a donation to the church. We didn’t have much money, and I felt responsible for spending our limited resources on something more damaging than uplifting. Looking back at that memory today, what struck me the most about this evening was that I had a choice to leave. I could choose whether I joined this religion and ultimately chose a spiritual path more aligned with my perceptions of the world. Sadly, that is a right afforded to everyone.

As someone who would have considered themselves well versed in history until recently, I found it hard to fathom as an independent person, and more aptly as an independent woman, having religious beliefs enforced upon me, especially ones that don’t allow women to speak within the church.

 
I quickly draw parallels between religious freedom and my perception of God. I can believe in a loving God that is accepting and open to different viewpoints about religion. I can practice a spiritual path without subjecting myself to strict religious doctrine that negates my authority on how I practice spirituality.

So many wars have been fought in the name of God, and millions of people have been killed for refusing to convert to Christianity. Thousands of women were burned alive and accused of practicing witchcraft. Countless people, including men, women, and children, are protesting a brutal regime in Iran. That is hellbent on controlling women based on interpretations of religious beliefs and the subjection of women. Closer to home, I think about the overwhelming, horrific, and unfathomable abuses and murders against countless children within my own country—within my province, which was perpetrated against the most innocent and was state-sanctioned by the government of Canada and the Catholic church itself through the guise of the residential school system.

It’s difficult for me to think about the fact that I was fortunate enough to have the choice to leave that classroom after feeling uncomfortable when this situation took place before the last residential school permanently closed its doors in this country. I was privileged enough to learn from animals and read books written by Indigenous authors about the cultural significance of animals and their teachings when people and children who are part of that culture were robbed of that same opportunity. Although I am fortunate enough to connect to these culturally significant beliefs, it is still up to me to be mindful of cultural appreciation versus cultural appropriation and give thanks for having access to that knowledge.

The irony of that fact is not lost on me and leaves me with immense guilt. I was given access to knowledge that the people connected to that culture were robbed of. I haven’t fully reconciled how to deal with those emotions other than by expressing immense gratitude for having access to that knowledge so early on.

It was my spiritual foundation and continues to be in so many ways. I hold such high regard for those teachings because I still utilize them. I feel a deep affinity for all animals and believe they are imperative to life on Earth and should be respected. They teach us so many lessons, and the impact of those teachings is not lost on me, but I’m also fully aware of where that knowledge came from and how criminalized the people of that culture and faith were for practicing those beliefs. I’m unsure how to reconcile that, but I feel immense gratitude and appreciate how that has shaped me.

There is so much value in being mindful of how we learn about cultures that differ from our own. When it comes to the food we eat and the items we wear. I think it’s imperative to research and understand where those beliefs come from and how sacred those traditions are.

That’s true for all spiritual faiths and traditions, and why when we travel to another country, it’s essential to know what customs might offend, since we are partaking part in their belief system, and not the other way around, and my views have developed and evolved over the years. I can see it from a different perspective as an adult versus when I was a child.

I am so grateful that many Indigenous artists and authors are showcasing their culture in beautiful and relevant ways because many voices have been silenced for so long. Not only is representation important for people within that culture, to see their stories being told through the voices of others and to see themselves reflected in art and music, but it is just as important on a human level to see all sorts of people, having all kinds of different experiences. We all have so much to gain from valuing different viewpoints and perspectives. I feel that an excellent place to start is appreciating that spirituality is available to everyone and can be expressed in many beautiful and unique ways other than just within the confines of a Christian Church.