The spiritual life is often described as a journey. That image has been on my mind lately—the sense that we are walking a path that continues for as long as we draw breath, and perhaps beyond.
Along that path there are stopping places.
Sometimes we sit on a bench along the side of the road and reflect on what we have learned so far. Sometimes we sit because we are tired. Sometimes we sit because we have encountered a question that won’t let us move forward until we spend time pondering it.
These pauses are not failures in the journey. They are part of the journey itself.
In the biblical tradition, we might call these moments Sabbath—times when we step back from producing, achieving, and striving so that we can simply rest. In a culture that often measures our worth by productivity, rest can feel counterintuitive. Yet rest is one of the ways the journey continues.
Recently another word has come to mind as I think about the spiritual life: ripening.
Ripening is the process by which fruit matures on the tree. It happens through a confluence of factors: sunlight, water, nutrients from the branch, the passage of time. The fruit itself is not striving or struggling to ripen. Much of the process is simply receiving what is given.
Our lives are not so different.
We ripen through joy and celebration. We ripen through questions and challenges. We ripen through times when we feel open and present—and through times when we feel distracted, stuck, or uncertain.
Even the stuck places are part of the ripening.
There are moments when we realize we are no longer fully present in the moment. Perhaps we have been pulled away by worry, fear, or distraction. In those moments the invitation is not to judge ourselves or to attach shame to the experience.
The invitation is much simpler:
Recognize.
Release.
Return.
Recognize where you are.
Release what is holding you there.
Return to the path.
Return to the ripening.
The journey continues. Ripening continues. And wherever you are today—resting on a bench, standing at a crossroads, or walking forward with clarity—you are not alone.
May you find peace today.
And by peace, I mean wholeness—a sense of being held together in the midst of life.
And may you remember that you are infinitely precious and unconditionally loved for the gift you already are.
