Spiritual Perspectives
Two Hours on Thursdays

By Geri A. Moore
Special to the Independent

Thursdays. My favorite day of the week. On that day, I excitedly enter The Search. I go where this later-life woman never went before. I’m googling requested facts, words and symbols. Seeking answers to questions that came up during last Thursday’s get together. This is an assignment I take quite seriously, as to not do so would be a source of disappointment. Maybe, in the scheme of things, not a big disappointment. However, for those who have had a series of broken promises and many hard-hitting let-downs, a completed internet search is symbolic. It’s a testimony to Trust. A Sacred Trust.

Promptly at 7:15 p.m., I call to verify, “Is it okay to come in tonight to be with the girls ?” When, after several minutes, I hear, “Yes, tonight’s good,” I load up the car with books, posters, papers and art supplies. I’m only there for two hours. But all through the day I have a heightened sense of anticipation on Thursdays. I’m anticipating the spontaneity. Anticipation and spontaneity may seem in conflict. But that’s pretty much what those hours and the Thursday nights have been about. Entering the contrast. Hovering in the conflict. Young and Old. Freedom and Imprisonment. Heaven and Hell. Light and Dark. Faith and Hopelessness. Peace and Violence. Love and Hate.

But when talks of God come up, the girls step out of the black-and-white of things and tiptoe to the gray of life. Demarcations or separations such as: You are or you aren’t. It is or it isn’t. You know or you don’t know. You’re a rocker or a hip-hopper. These are erased. During the moments of “God Talk” — none of that matters.

But, first the contrasts: They are 16-year-old teenage girls. I am a 60-year-old menopausal woman. Young and Old. I live in a 2,000 square foot house. They live in a 6 x 9 cell. Freedom and Imprisonment. The promise of a better after-life is assured by teachers of The Word. The prediction of a worse adult-life is heard by these students of The System. Heaven and Hell. While coloring posters of fairy-tale princesses, real-life stories of boyfriends’ betrayals are exchanged. Light and Dark. Guarded, a petite teen reaches in front of me for a wax crayon. Leaning in, she quietly whispers, “Will you light a candle for me? I’ve got my hearing and I want to get out and go home, but I’m afraid with my charges that won’t happen.” Faith and Hopelessness. During “media literacy,” we discuss ads in magazines, images in videos and lyrics of songs. Singing and swaying to the reggae, drum beat of Bob Marley’s No More Trouble, the girls are smiling. “...We don’t need no more trouble. Make love not war. What we need is love. Love to guide and protect...” Within a nano-second, the tempo and tone changes. They read the lyrics to Brotha Lynch Hung’s Welcome To Your Own Death. “...I got me a mack-eleven for your face that’s leavin’ no trace. Gotta watch your back like 24-7.” Smiles are gone. Swaying stops. Love and Hate. Peace and Violence.

Adolescence is the time of life to identify, question and develop Self. To clear away the inconsistencies. Create moral code. Develop character. Adolescence is leaving the black-and-white, concrete thinking world to enter into abstract thinking. Adolescence is that significant time of uncovering, discovering and recovering.

An informal faith-development series begins as they lightly probe their spiritual lives. They ask each other questions and respectfully listen to answers. No judgments here. No disagreements on who is Right or Wrong. Good or Bad. Strong or Weak. A young girl can emphatically reject an expressed thought, and a polite silence follows. Or a brief acknowledgment, “That’s cool.”

The questions fly and the awareness soars. How can there be so many Christian groups when there is only one Christ? What do Mormons believe? Do you believe in witches and evil spirits? Have you ever met a Muslim? I met a Buddhist nun once. Her head was shaved. Are we all sinners? Do you think you go to heaven after you die? Different Indian tribes have different Creation stories. What is a soul to you? My mother read The Secret. What’s metaphysical mean? Do you think you can follow traditional beliefs and still be Christian? What’s that word for someone who doesn’t believe in God at all?

I am honored to be present while these girls struggle to define themselves through spiritual questioning. When these girls ask, joke, request, challenge, confide and question their thoughts on founded or lost faith, I’m in the heartbeat of healing. I can feel my own heart open up to the experience of being with God. With Spirit. Here with the girls. I never imagined this time would become a spiritual awakening for me. My intention was to teach life skills and media literacy. Not so surprisingly, though, because Creator/Spirit/Christ/Universal Intelligence/Allah/Buddha — or whatever name we chose to call upon — is in the room, I became the Student and the girls were my Teachers.

For, as these beautiful young girls sifted and turned over their hearts and mind to questions of religion and faith differences, they focused only on the similarities. Any disparity was just interesting and something to ponder. Here, the “whatever” was spoken as a word of acceptance.

On this topic, the anger or hurt that brought them to this closed setting, is set aside. Openness is the key. When they speak of and share matters of faith, beliefs, God, Spirit or Souls, it is unspoken, but clearly heard — Compassion. Non-Violence. Tolerance. Non-Judgment. Communication for the purpose of joining. During these talks the girls don’t label “gangsta,” “prep,” “goth”or any of their other dividers. Previous upsets or animosities are put aside. They enter into a place of Love and Love.

Geri A. Moore, a former addiction counselor in correctional and criminal justice settings, offer free sessions to former female inmates. She can be reached at (505) 722-5412 or gerimoore@aol.com.

This column is written by area residents, representing different faith communities, who share their ideas about bringing a spiritual perspective into our daily lives and community issues. For information about contributing a guest column, contact Elizabeth Hardin-Burrola at The Independent: (505) 863-6811 ext. 218 or lizreligion01@yahoo.com.