Our membership currently consists of 64 adult members, and approximately 20-25 children. I would guess that if we were to take a poll of what spirituality means, we would find at least 100 different answers. As usual when I am faced with that difficulty, I like to retreat to Merriam Webster's as well as any other decent word history book, one which gives a word's etymology. In this case, the word spirituality comes from the Latin spiritus which means having to do with the breath.

On a basic level, spirituality has to do with breath - that which keeps us alive, for without breath, there is no life. The Buddhists may have been wise to focus upon the breath in meditation. They use a sustained focus upon counting one's breathing - the source of our life on earth.

Thinking of spirituality as referring to breathing has another advantageous quality, and that is of the inward and outward motion of the air. In breathing, one must take in air from outside of one's body, and one must also exhale air from the inside of one's body. Spirituality has both an incoming and outgoing quality. You cannot have spirituality which exists only inwardly, nor can you have a purely external outward spirituality. If one has only one or the other, you have a very lopsided, distorted spirituality. One needs to have both to be valid from my perspective.

The Rev. Jim Nelson, my colleague in the Fairfax UU congregation, defines spirituality as such: "Spirituality is how we build and nurture our faith. What matters about religious belief is not exactly what you believe but how you live, how your faith - which is seen in how you act - after all both Osama bin Laden and Martin Luther King Jr. believed in God - spirituality is how we direct our desire for life, for meaning, for hope, for belonging."

In spite of the truth of his statement, today we are going to focus more on one side of the equation, with only slight emphasis upon the other side of it. We are going to look at inner sources for spirituality. Coming from a basically humanist background, this is somewhat of a stretch for me. And yet, it is an important one for me to make publicly. In doing so, I must struggle to articulate my own thinking.

Often I have viewed the expression of my spirituality through public witness for social justice and social change. Or, to use Jim Nelson's words, of how I live my life. Such stances are what might be considered an incarnation of one's spirituality. They embody one's religious beliefs, one's values, one's ethics, and one's humanness. They are public proclamations of a person's spirituality. But what are the sources for such stands as I, or any other Unitarian Universalist, might take?

While we read the various scriptures of world religions, we do not attach any extreme emphasis upon them in our daily lives. We don't walk around quoting them frequently, as some fundamentalists or even devout liberal Christians or Jews might do. Yes, after due consideration, these scriptural teachings may guide us, but they almost never command us to act as Unitarian Universalists. Indeed, as a heterodox religious people, we do not seek revelation or enlightenment from only ancient historical documents. Instead, it is the nature of our liberal religious tradition to look not outward to external signs of authority, such as holy books, but rather to look inward, at our selves, for our own sense of values. And then, in time, we may bring these insights back to our congregation for testing - for examination in the light of reason, and for sharing with our mutual congregants. Only afterwards do we then make them incarnate in our actions in our daily lives.

So how do we seek this spiritual sustenance, the nurturance which helps us shape our lives, which gives meaning and purpose to ourselves? There are a variety of methods, of practices, and no one is the right way for everyone. I will only cover a few of them - my listing is not exhaustive.

For those of you who are psychodynamically oriented, be it a neo-Freudian, Jungian, Adlerian, or what have you, as well as those of you who are more New Age, dreams are certainly one way to tap the unconscious within oneself. One can seek for insight into one's self or others, or guidance in making life choices through the pathways of the dream. Indigenous people have known this all along. Shamans and medicine men, as well as soothsayers from ages past, have used dreams in guiding others towards meaning and purpose. Within the Biblical tradition, we have Jacob and his dreams, guiding not only himself, but also, in essence, the nation of Israel in its decisions.

Speaking for myself, dreams often are a source of refreshment, of self nurturance for me. They may guide me along a path, they may remind me of needed attitudes or problems to be addressed. They truly do represent a royal roadway to my unconscious - one which is no longer terribly frightening but which is filled with surprises and possibilities. Dreams will sometimes even solve the problems that I have been struggling with during consciousness, giving me answers I had not thought of. Keeping a dream journal is one way of looking at one's dreams and helping to remember them. One could be surprised at the power and intuitiveness contained in one's dreams.

Although I have used the metaphors of a roadway and that of a path, these metaphors come from the perspective of me driving or walking along. Often, however, dreams are more like a swift moving river, uncharted and in some ways uncontrolled. At times one may be swept along by them; at other times, one may be joltingly splashed. And then there are times when one finds oneself in a small, slow moving eddy, either creeping along or just basking in the sunlight. If attended to, they can change the directions of one's life. They also serve as a source of renewal and invigoration.

In a similar vein, others have tried altered states of consciousness, a route I do not advocate, but nevertheless, it has been tried by others. Of course, it was tried in the 1960's and early 70's, sometimes with disastrous results, but I note that indigenous people have utilized peyote for over two millennia in their quest for spirituality and communing with God. Boundaries often dissolve, allowing participants to truly see the interconnectedness of the interdependent web of life.

For still others, spirituality may manifest itself in the process of creation, be it a work of art, a manuscript, a poem, a tune, or perhaps some elegant mathematical equation. Often, before the item is created, however, a period of inward direction and silence will occur, when the artist goes deep within him or herself, distancing from others and tapping that which lies within, sometimes nameless and void of form. Only after the core or root of self has been touched is the creation given form, in a sort of birthing process.

Some may seek out worship in a gathered community, in addition to other ways of achieving spirituality. Although worship occurs in public time and space, and as such is external, each individual responds internally to the readings, hymns, and messages conveyed in the sermon or discussion, as well as to the Joys and Sorrows. Even the children's story may serve as a springboard for an internal exploration of meaning. The external community stimulates the individual's internal responses, which can serve as a spiritually renewing source. It is only by eventually looking within, however, that spirituality will be experienced through worship, or at least so I believe.

Then there are processes like meditation, yoga and prayer. I know for myself, while I can occasionally engage in sitting meditation, I find it much more rewarding to utilize a form of walking meditation, basically walking at a fast pace for a distance of several miles. When I begin, I often have what may be called a monkey mind. My mind is constantly chattering, jumping from thought to thought, much as a group of monkeys might chatter and jump from tree to tree in a rain forest. Over time, however, after I have walked perhaps one and a half to two miles, my incessant internal chattering lets up a bit. There are silences, spaces between the thoughts, when I have emptied myself of all the extraneous, noisy thoughts of my mind.

Once I have reached emptiness, the calm internal silence, or at least approached it, it is at this point that I can find myself and my spirituality. Here, in the spaces between the words of my mind, I can hear the still small voice, noted by both Isaiah of the Old Testament and Unitarian Theodore Parker of the 1800s, among others, on how to live my life, raising up those issues which are important for me to consider. Sometimes I contemplate a given problem and the answer somehow appears, rising up into consciousness from where I know not. At other times, uncluttered essentially free associations give rise to new ideas, sermon topics, or emotions such as joy and sadness. Whatever arises during the silence, it is accepted and experienced, and then I return to the silence. I believe this is my innermost me, the non-public and at times not-so-overly-socialized Jim.

Oddly enough, that silent, centered state is also that which is most open to others, to ideas, and to the world. That spot has been named many things through the years. Maslow called it a peak experience in which one is transcended. The Zen masters strove to help their students find it either through the use of a koan or through a strike of force in zazen practice. It is from here that we can truly respond authentically and transparently to that which is, experiencing a sense of at-one-ness, with no grasping or clinging. It is from here that we can most easily engage in loving kindness. It is also from here that genuine social action and compassionate caring arise.

While this may sound self-centered, emphasizing the need for private inwardness, many renowned spiritual leaders have utilized such social withdrawal. Several different accounts of Jesus withdrawing from his followers at different times exist within the Bible. Then too, Gandhi devoted Thursdays to sitting at his spinning wheel. This was his way of replenishing his spirit. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. used to pray and read his Bible daily. Thich Nat Hahn, during the Vietnam war, was an activist Buddhist monk who belonged to that monastery which produced the monks who engaged in self-immolation. He devoted one day per week to sitting meditation to maintain his spiritual presence. One day another monk rushed in to him and reported that the monastery had been set afire and he was to come immediately. Thich Nhat Hahn stated that he would attend to the matter on the following day. Clearly, each of these avatars needed their private time for spiritual sustenance. I believe that we are no less different.

Each of the foregoing routes help us to be open to and to hear the deepest voice in our being. I invite us all to remain attentive to these processes, to engage in them as much as possible, and to listen to our spiritual selves. Be open. Listen. And then share your discoveries with others here. In heeding our deepest yearnings, we may transform ourselves and our lives - creating meaning and purpose in our lives and the world. May we all become living incarnations of our spirituality.