Spiritual Stew

October 3, 2024

Leland and Everett,

In my last note I talked a bit about paying attention to that little voice, learning to listen and learning to follow where it leads. That voice led me to quit my job. It led me to the church I now attend. It’s led me to myriad smaller actions that have positively impacted my life. Upon reflection of that voice, I realize I have not written you about Spiritual Stew.

I started a group in May. We meet roughly biweekly (I make exceptions for holidays or personal conflicts). The purpose of the group is to explore spiritual topics in a religiously neutral way; in other words, the group is irreligious, though it welcomes members of all religions. Our one commitment is that we don’t try to impose our beliefs on one another.

I host and facilitate, but don’t have an agenda. The format I use invites anyone to submit a topic for discussion. From there I let folks break out into separate discussions. I use this format because I believe it fills a need. I’ve participated in groups where the host plays the role of presenter, bringing content for the group to consume. That format is great as far as it goes, but 1) it puts an enormous amount of responsibility on the presenter to prepare content, and 2) it’s not particularly engaging for the audience. If the topic happens to pique your interest, the presenter format is great; otherwise it’s pretty boring. The other format I’ve commonly seen is where the host selects a singular discussion topic, and attempts to moderate that discussion. Again, this format is fine as far as it goes, but in my experience you are lucky if the topic selected (and the direction of the discussion) piques the interest of more than a quarter of the participants. By contrast, I find this format 1) allows for anyone who feels challenged or curious about a topic to bring it for exploration, and 2) most participants are able to find a topic from the several submitted that resonate with them. The end result are smaller, more intimate, more powerful discussions.

What interests me, however, is not so much the group as the story of how it came to be. During this past spring, I found that my daily meditations were often dominated by thoughts about this as-yet-nonexistent group. I could see it, and found myself during meditations working through details about how it might work. Eventually I got frustrated, wishing that this idea would stop dominating my thoughts so that I could meditate. Then it hit me: the idea dominated my meditations precisely because I was experiencing a call to bring the idea into being.

I would love to tell you that I immediately set about bringing the group into being. The truth is that the idea scared me: it felt too personal, too raw, too vulnerable to put out into the world. If this failed, the failure would hurt a little too much. And so, I stalled.

Perhaps a few weeks later, leaders from my church returned from their annual retreat. They brought a list of ideas they wanted to pursue. After worship that day, I walked around looking at various flip charts to see what the church wanted to pursue. On one of those flip charts I saw a bullet about creating a group aimed at non-members of the church. I can’t explain why, but when I read that bullet I felt as though a lightening bolt struck the back of my neck: somehow, I knew this was a sign from God. It’s one of those feelings you could never prove to a skeptic, but you know it for certain when you feel it.

And so I…did nothing, for several more weeks. The task felt overwhelming: “What if the church thinks my idea sounds crazy? What if they don’t believe I’m capable to leading it? It seems like so much work, especially to get folks to show up, how would I get folks to show up?” I had so many questions and so few answers.

But the idea never went away; it continued to come forward during my meditations. Finally I realized 1) fear was stopping me, and 2) all I needed to do next was go talk to the minister at my church. And so I set an appointment with him.

When we met, I told the truth: how I had this idea of forming a group, how I couldn’t get the idea out of my head (even though part of me wished I could), and how when I saw the goals from the church retreat, I felt a profound sense of alignment. The minister proceeded to lay out what the group had envisioned. Listening to him, I felt as though we had ~85% overlap in vision already. We talked through some details, and aligned on an overall vision.

When I asked for some guidance on how we might get folks to show up, the minister simply said, “we were imagining a Meetup group”. Meetup is a website where folks can go to find activities they wish to join. Theirs struck me as a great idea: if it worked, getting folks to show up would not be a problem.

And so I went home and…stalled some more. “What if no one comes? There is still so much work to do!” Eventually I realized I only needed to take the next step: create the meeting on Meetup. I aligned with the minister on a date and time when I could use the church facilities, and set the event.

Then I got overwhelmed by the idea of preparation. I’m not a particularly crafty person, but I needed some basic signage. And so, I carved out an afternoon, went to an office supply store and purchased some markers and poster board, and came home and handmade the signs I needed. They are not works of art, but they suffice.

Next I sought some moral support. I confided my anxiety to your mom. I told a few close friends about the group. And I asked (begged might be more accurate) a few friends whom I thought might enjoy it to come to the first meeting. The collective moral support helped buttress me.

And then I prepped. I outlined what I would say, the timing and flow of the meeting, the locations I would offer for breakout sessions. I rehearsed the meeting over and over again, such that the day before the meeting, I felt ready.

The day of the first meeting I woke up feeling as though I were plugged into an electrical socket. After dropping the two of you off at school, I went for a walk. Normally I walk for 30-45 minutes; on this day I walked for 90 minutes. After the walk I went to the gym and lifted weights. I could sense that I needed to burn some excess energy in order to normalize for the meeting. I came home and showered, meditated, and journaled. Then I went to the church to set up for the meeting.

I picked the two of you up early from school that day. We came home and had dinner early. And then I bid goodbye to you and your mom and went to prepare myself for the meeting. I did some final setup, then found some space to meditate, just to center myself for the meeting.

My biggest fear was always that no one would show up. To my great surprise, people started to sign up within a day of my posting the meeting. People continued to sign up such that by the day of the event, 27 people had registered. Others had prepared me to expect about 1/3 of registrations to not show up. In the end, 18 people came to the first meeting. Of those, 3 were friends I had personally invited. Another four were members of the church. The rest were folks who had responded to our online open invitation.

The meeting went spectacularly. Folks understood the concept. People submitted 8 topics for discussion. I split the discussions into two time slots of ~40 minutes each, so each time slot allowed folks to choose amongst 4 topics. Each topic garnered between 4 and 7 participants. I elected not to participate in the discussions at the first event, and focus on my role as host and facilitator. But I could sense the conversations were lively. At the end I gathered everyone back together and solicited feedback, and received universally enthusiastic endorsement. I could feel the energy and excitement in the room by the end.

I left that day exhausted, but fulfilled. And then a curious thing happened: I remained fatigued for the next 2 weeks, right up until the next meeting. For the first several meetings, I noticed that the meetings took a lot out of me. As time has gone on, I’ve gotten better at “recovering” from them. Interestingly, I’ve received some similar feedback from some of the participants: that the meetings leave people feeling a spiritual and emotional high, but that the comedown can be somewhat challenging. I suspect some of this to be what Brene Brown refers to as the “vulnerability hangover”: somewhat invariably the group discusses rather intimate topics, and being unusually vulnerable with relative strangers is likely challenging to integrate into daily life.

Attendance at subsequent meetings dwindled slowly until we’ve settled into a rhythm of about 10 participants on average. Of those, we have a core group of 5 that come to most meetings, another group of regulars who come when schedules allow, and we typically get 1-2 newcomers per session. As I have grown more comfortable facilitating and as the group has grown more comfortable with the format, I’ve allowed myself to participate in the discussions, which I’ve particularly enjoyed.

My intuitive sense is that the group is positively impacting the lives of the participants. I’ve received some explicit feedback that reinforces my intuition.

My hope is that the group will eventually grow. Ideally, word-of-mouth would generate interest in more participants joining. Perhaps we might even add additional dates, times, and/or locations to potentially allow more folks the opportunity to join.

Then again, this group has never really been about me; it’s been about my ability to get out of the way and let something flow through me. I tell this story, again, to highlight the role of that little voice in my life. In this particular instance, I tried pretty hard to ignore that voice. Thankfully, God kept tapping me on the shoulder until I listened. I presume the idea was to help me understand, explicitly, how listening to and following that voice might lead me in positive directions. Whatever the purpose, I’m grateful I finally listened, no matter how reluctantly.

I love you both, and I hope you have a little more context on why I went out to “my meeting” one night every couple of weeks.

Love,

Dad

P.S. Yes, the name of the group is Spiritual Stew. The name was the minister’s idea, but it immediately resonated. Like in a stew, our goal is to have the individual participants retain their individuality, autonomy, and authority, but to come together and contribute to the group in a way that produces something beautiful. Personally I think it’s a fabulous metaphor for what the group does.