I've got no idea whether Harry Truman actually had a sign on his desk that said, "The Buck Stops Here", but if he did, bravo for him. That's taking responsibility for the job in a way that few politicians have or do. But that's really what human adulthood seems to have as its base--a willingness to take full responsibility for one's life: what we do, what we say, how we react (whether or not "anyone" would react that way under the circumstances). Then we put ourselves in the way of becoming full adults (whatever that evolving state may ultimately be).
As it is in life in general, so it is, I think, in the spiritual realm. It's when we take full responsibility for our spiritual growth, whether or not we believe in "God", whether or not we belong to a spiritual tradition or we're "just searching", whether we think those who believe in the spirit are wildly deluded, the buck stops with each of us.
Not surprisingly, the members of this group seem to "get" this. Most of us seem to have accepted responsibility for our spiritual growth, and being a member of this group is part of that process. Although each of us accepts responsibility for ourselves, that doesn't mean we have to travel our path alone. There are teachers, there are sacred texts, there are practices, retreats, the moment to moment experience of life itself--the greatest teacher of all--and on and on.
The catch can be this: that being responsible for your spiritual life can set you apart. You become a rare animal. Beyond being a member of this group, how do you deal with that fact? Revel in it? Struggle with it? Both? The grand irony can be that, to the extent that it becomes part of your identity, it can become a serious trap. Tell us how you cope with being where the spiritual buck stops.
Growing up, I had four younger half-siblings. They shared (and felt kinship with) both parents; I didn’t get along, at all, with my step-father. He and my mother would say, “I need you to watch ‘the kids,’” as if I wasn’t a ‘kid,’ myself.
I recall one Sunday morning: I was, maybe, thirteen; both parents were sitting up in bed; I stood in the doorway, watching as my mother and step-father played ‘tickle’ with my siblings. I had no desire to join in (given the often combative relationship with my step-father . . . and the fact that I was ‘too old’ for that sort of thing), but it was a clear message to me that there was something that set me apart from the others. In many ways, that Sunday morning has become symbolic for my entire life.
As with all things, that ‘apartness’ has both advantages and disadvantages. One of the advantages is that, since childhood, I have recognized that I am ultimately responsible for whatever choices I make; I feel no compulsion to join a community and, consequently, am absolutely free to make my own choices . . . and take responsibility for them.
I had a similar background to yours, MsTick1, except that NO ONE was any closer--a chilly WASP upbringing where I became responsible for my own mental health far too early, and with too few tools. For me, that sense of being an outsider would pounce on me from time to time: sitting in a church congregation for example (even though I was a lay leader and often a celebrant), or in a church group where my difference, from a spiritual perspective, was very apparent. Interestingly, I never felt this at all in the many Buddhist communities I visited. I suppose that setting, so alien to my upbringing, didn't trigger the feeling. So there's really no surprise that what really drew me in all the spiritual traditions I investigated was this sense of an underlying oneness to everything--something I felt very strongly from time to time, mostly in nature, and slowly accepted as truth rather than delusion--no matter how variously expressed in those traditions. Which leads directly to ASRAI's comment--living that felt sense of connection through putting aside fear in favor of love. That's where any sense of being a rare animal or apart fades away. That's the practice that conquers fear. It's a nice way to come round to the place you wish you could have started from, but no matter... The thing is to come round.
Recognizing & accepting my journey, as mine alone, was the first step in realizing that the buck stops here. Choices are a continuum throughout my journey. I reflect, analyze, question & ultimately embrace all of my choices- healthy & non healthy. Then I rewind & courageously (sometimes not so courageously) change the unhealthy choices until I am able to feel my feet standing firmly atop the ground below. Once I have accomplished this feat, accepting the fact that I am indeed different/set apart from the world that I once believed was life, allows me to journey into spheres that I had only dreamed of.
I have been called "pollyanna" so many times. Everyone is my family and circle of friends knows that I live and breathe my spirituality. Some even "float in the same boat with me". It has become my second nature. Since I respect other's path, I just assume they will respect mine.
I found that I became more of an adult spiritually when I was challenged by spirit to show my true beliefs. My response took a lot of guts because it required to let go of fear and replace it with trust.
I was a captain on Rikers Island in the maximum security jail at the time. I was going home after the completion of my tour and was on my way to the control room to pick up my off-duty gun. (We couldn't carry a gun in the jail.) Spirit asked me, mentally, "Why are you carrying a gun?" I suddenly realized I knew and trusted that I had far greater protection than any gun could ever give me. I turned toward the exit and never carried a gun again.
It took courage to stand my ground when others ridiculed me for having such a naive belief. I realized that was from their perspective and mine was no longer fear filled.
My whole life changed with that decision. And as it is often said in posts here, "It's all about choice."
I've just recently come up against "The buck stops here." I'm 59 years old and I've always had someone to take care of me. My husband died several months ago and now the buck does stop here. I mean that literally - I had actually been taking care of Eddie for the past several years, since he had Alzheimer's. But when he died, I lost his income, which, even though he'd been retired for 20 years, was still more than mine.
So, aside from grieving, I was filled with fear. Sometimes it still overtakes me. But, like ASRAI, I try to just be. I'm trying to live in the moment. If you look for it, you can find beauty everywhere.
Amazing how we are all in this together alone. How we can share a very personally unique and most intimate experience that connects with everyone and everything. It is true that the “buck stops here” as we are all responsible for our own individual spiritual growth and in so doing we add our drop to the greater ocean which helps to bring a sense of that Kingdom of Heaven here on Earth. The paradox is that we are never alone even while we alone must walk our own spiritual path.
I think my spiritual life ended when my father died when I was 2, my (favorite) aunt died when I was 4, my grandfather burned to death when I was 5, and my least favorite grandmother died on our family vacation when I was 7.
By the time I got to Sunday School (Swedish Lutheran) and they talked about "Our Father in Heaven," I thought -- who?
In my adult years I didn't take much responsibility for myself, I was the youngest, the only girl, and my mother tried to keep me from being responsible, because she raised her own brothers and did all the housework. I was only responsible for my grades in school.
The Holy Spirit, or Spirit, dragged me kicking and screaming into the fold. It took years, but one phrase changed my life: A person said, "I am responsible. I am responsible if I get hit by a car, because I was there. No matter how random life is, I am responsible."
And then I ripped the sign from my forehead that said "Abuse Me" and "I don't count" and any other hidden message I sent.
Dr. Dwyer said, "If you knew who walked beside you, you would never know fear again."
I simply incorporated all of this into my life, and went on. I don't fit in some places. Since I don't "fear" it has never botherered me to tell my employers what was honestly going on in their company, usually not appreciated. I began to set boundaries, and felt no remorse if I needed to leave a situation to keep my boundaries.
I know now I am only responsible for myself and answer to a Higher Power, and my husband and family have their own path, their own higher power, and while I can gently suggest to them they look for it, I am not responsible.
The opposite of Love is Fear -- I really believe that. I pray for guidance every day.
