Blog by Valerie
Over the years I have observed a number of spiritual seekers looking for a ‘secret sauce’ solution to their lives – some kind of trick or program that, if they followed it, would lessen their pain and make their lives look more like what they have in mind. I have numerous times had the experience of being ‘tried on’, sometimes for a few months, sometimes even for years. But when one is looking for a secret sauce, spiritual practices from any tradition will inevitably disappoint. Yes, some ceremonies or practices may resonate so deeply, even profoundly altering our life direction with deep healing in a moment or over a short period of time. But if we continue to seek ‘pow’ experiences, we will end up chasing the dragon on a hopeless, addictive journey.
An important spiritual ‘pow’ I experienced when I was trying to move through suppressed childhood trauma that had come up in my late 20s. I did four ayahuasca ceremonies in the Amazon, followed by a 10-day silent Vipassana retreat in Chile (without warm enough clothing!); I felt for weeks afterwards as if my brain had been shaken like a snow globe. I had done that on purpose to move the trauma through my life over years instead of decades. I remember sitting in a hotel room in Peru and painting pictures, then ripping them up and reassembling the pieces to reflect myself. Life was very intense for more than seven years as a result of the pace at which I chose to ride that wave of energy, and miraculously Lukas rode through it with me, often saying he felt like he was barely holding on. I am glad to have moved through much of that trauma. My most recent spiritual ‘pow’ experience was the birth of my daughter. She turns three this year, and I feel like my nervous system is calming down from what the birth brought up.
Last year someone who tried me on started working through my book, and after three weeks said to me they were done doing spiritual work because they weren’t seeing enough changes in their life. I was pretty stunned that this person was expecting such a short ‘pow’ turnaround in their life with so little effort. When I was very unwell in my 20s and finally found a naturopath who diagnosed the pathogenic bacteria in my gut, I remember her saying that with three years of drastic diet limitations and careful, targeted supplements I could expect to feel better. That sounded good to me as I considered how many years had led to my system becoming so sick. And it turned out to be true. (Image from an art installation in Sydney in 2020; sorry I don’t remember the artist!)
These days I like to think about how long it takes a plant to establish its roots underground, all the nourishment required to even make it to the surface, and then the years of growth and renewal and moving through disease. I told that person that some seeds I had planted in my life over a decade ago were only starting to bear fruit for me now, and that I had been doing some of the same daily spiritual practices such as altar work and seasonal ceremonies for longer than that. Unfortunately, that person has become very dis-spirited, and I hope they find a way out of the dark hole they’re in. (Another photo I took at Angkor Wat years ago of an amazingly resilient tree)
It seems to me that a real spiritual ‘secret sauce’ is made up of persistence, patience, a daily practice, trust and faith in something(s) bigger than ourselves who care to help, commitment to core values that are worth living and dying for, grit and determination to stay the course, and a sense of humour.
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I see hope as a more fleeting, softer and elusive energy laced with personal egoic desires. I might choose to have faith that the right job will come to me at the right time (which will likely require me to do a bit of work putting myself out there), and if I feel excited about a particular job I just interviewed for, I may HOPE that will be the one that comes through. This is why I found the energy of Obama’s Hope & Change campaign less exciting than many people. I feel like many people placed FAITH in his presidency resulting in meaningful change instead of HOPE, and thereby set themselves up for huge disappointment (Image from 
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In social environments, it seems to feel proportionally less safe to be oneself the farther we identify from collective norms and ideals. There is a concept in mathematics called ‘regression to the mean’. It is basically the idea that when you put some ice into a glass of water, the ice will tend to melt and take the form of the water; in essence, it is about assimilating into a collective norm. Yet assimilation is a dirty word for many people, because we want to celebrate our uniqueness as well as being part of a peoples. (Image from
Feeling safe to celebrate our difference depends on culture and context. These social wounds keep us trapped and unable to trust ourselves, each other, non-humans, and Spirit/God/oneness. Our capacities to heal and seek retribution are also based on cultural values and intergenerational traumas. Cultures that are more welcoming of outsiders seem to encourage healing and embracing collective wounds for transformation, whereas cultures that are more exclusionary seem to ‘other’ people and tend towards separation and seeking retribution. Fear of retribution can keep us trapped and unable to trust. It is as if there is a collective trauma belief that says, ‘if we let them in, they will hurt us.’ In my experience with Judaism, and what I am learning are my deeper Sumerian cultural roots, there seems to be a collective belief that ‘we can’t trust anybody.’ My own grandmother told me that as a child, and I asked her incredulously if I couldn’t even trust her. She didn’t answer, just stared at me in silence. Living in this social environment, I never felt safe. In fact, I felt terrified to even take up space. One wrong move could find me terribly punished, kicked out of the group, or worse, judged irredeemable by God. Despite constantly striving to be ‘a good person’, it never felt like what I did was good enough. I got used to feeling terrified that threats of judgment, punishment and retribution were always imminent. I worked hard to learn the rules I might break and the triggers I might set off that would result in my being punished. But I wasn’t in control. My brother had a habit of breaking rules and refusing to admit it, so we would both be punished. This was scary, too, because I didn’t know when the punishment would happen, or how intense it would. It felt safer at times to intensely control and punish myself so that I maintained a sense of autonomy. It also seemed safest to play the part of
For most of my life I felt terrified to take up space. I felt like no space was ‘mine’ existentially or practically. For example, growing up, I wasn’t allowed to lock my bedroom door. I used to get dressed in my walk-in closet so I had some privacy and warning if my mother was coming into my bedroom. It took many years into adulthood – and practically ending many formational familial relationships that were untrustworthy just as my grandmother had told me – for me to become trustworthy to myself, be authentic and celebrate my difference, and surround myself with trustworthy and authentic people. By trustworthy, I mean people who say what they mean and do what they say, and when they can’t follow through on something, own it, apologise, forgive themselves, and make amends if needed. By authentic, I mean people who know their core values and practice embodying them in everyday life.
It is still unsafe for me in many spaces where my values conflict with the collective. But I don’t feel a need to constantly strive towards some central ideal, nor do I feel like it’s me against the world at war. I feel peace in myself for accepting who I am and doing my best to navigate the collective morass, and for cultivating spaces where I, and others, are free to be. In this way, I can embody the knowing that we are enough. (Or ‘good enough’, whatever that means.) (Image from 

