Reverend Amani
“Rather than try to change the world, how can we dance our own dance? How can we access that spark, that flame, that incredible part of our humanity and goodness and just live that? Knowing that that will ripple – that it will matter. It will make a difference, but we don’t do it because we’re going to change the world, or change people’s minds, or better society, or circumstances. We do it because that’s who and what we are. I think we have to give up this notion that, ‘I only matter if I’m making a difference; I have to go do all these good things to prove my goodness.’ Instead, let’s know our goodness. Let’s be our goodness – and let that naturally occur out in the world.”
Disillusioned with the apathy and indulgence that crept back into society just a decade after the end of World War II, Albert Camus wrote in 1956 that “too many people now climb onto the cross merely to be seen from a greater distance.” In 2020, with the emergence of COVID-19, we saw more and more people climb down from that cross of visibility to quietly give something of themselves – to their neighbors, to the community, to their families and to strangers – simply because they had something of themselves to offer.
From this shared suffering during COVID, there emerged a shared humanity. Call it divine, human or an ambiguous presence in-between, it seemed that as quickly as people were forced inside physically – and inward philosophically – a resurgence of outward connectivity spread through communities with people choosing to lend a hand, not merely to be seen from that greater distance, but to become a humble thread in the universal fabric that connects human beings to one another.
Reverend Amani, the Senior Minister for the Albuquerque Center for Spiritual Living, fostered connection and offered insight into the opportunity that COVID has provided humanity – should we choose to embrace it.
This is her story, in her own words.
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I came here [Albuquerque Center for Spiritual Living] in a very unusual way. I was a professional singer and songwriter in my former life. I had always had a spiritual life – that had always been my journey – but fairly solo. I had done a lot of study on my own – a lot of seeking and checking things out, and I traveled quite a bit. Went to India and Europe, and I was always looking and curious to create a practice where I sort of grabbed pieces here and there from different faith traditions.
I became a mom in my early 30s and that didn’t work so well as a musician. I did my last tour when my kid was two, and that was it. I started moving into nonprofit work, working with youth and setting up programs for kids who don’t usually have access to music education. But, I found myself bringing my own spirituality into those programs – and yet I was federally funded and I couldn’t really do that! It started to really become a problem and I began to realize how important it was, to me, that people know that they have a divine nature. Whether we call it inherent goodness or inherent Godness, I really wanted people to know that that was who they were, and I was starting to feel stifled in doing that in a more therapeutic setting.
I had found the Center when I was a single mom, who had just come back to the United States. I was going through a divorce and I was miserable and alone and I needed support and didn’t know how I was going to get through it. I thought, well, maybe I can find spiritual community, since that was such a huge part of my life. Several people in different settings had recommended I go to the Church of Religious Science, which is what we used to be called. And I thought, “You freaks want me to go to some cult – I’m not doing that!” But after the fourth person recommended I check it out, I was desperate enough that I packed my kid up on a Sunday morning and drove to the parking lot. I watched people get out of cars to see if there was any culty-weirdness. And then my kid saw the other kids, and he hopped out of the car and ran to the kids’ room and I didn’t see him again; he was so happy.
I stood in the back with all the suspicion and lo and behold, I knew all the musicians in the band. I saw a lot of people I knew in the audience; it was not what I expected. I didn’t think I’d get involved in the church – I didn’t think it was going to be a teaching that I’d get into, because I didn’t believe that there was a teaching out there that really suited me. For my whole adult life, I had been grabbing from all of these different traditions and using practices that supported my beliefs. But, this teaching was absolutely what I already believed, so over time, it became really clear to me that this was where I wanted to be. I went to ministerial school and here we are.
Ultimately, my teachings are that God – which is a word I use just because it’s short and it’s one syllable and easy to say – is all that there is. And that It is within and without everyone, which means that we’re all made of that stuff. So, it’s a panentheistic teaching. At its foundation is a belief in oneness and because there’s only one – and we are part of that one – we are connected.
I started reading Margaret Wheatley’s book, “Who Do We Choose to Be,” before COVID, and that question has become profound for me during this time. We have all these examples throughout history of insane, heinous atrocities – folks who’ve gone through slavery, gone through the Holocaust – and yet, there are folks who somehow managed in that time, to choose their goodness – their inherent goodness, which I choose to call God. We all have that choice and we all have a way of accessing it, whether it’s through readings or learning history or just simply getting still and discovering that there is something in us that will take us to that. It changes how we experience the circumstances because we do not have to suffer. In the Buddhist tradition there is that really famous saying, “Pain is inevitable; suffering is a choice.” I believe that. It’s become trite, but it’s not a trite reality if you choose to experience it.
One of my initial instincts when this all began was to realize that, as a spiritual community, we were needed more than ever – and people needed each other. Those needs didn’t change, but how we connected changed. What I said over and over again to our leadership was that our mission remains the same – which is love in action and transforming lives. Our methods are changing dramatically, but that mission is more relevant than it’s ever been. The question was how do we do that? How do we help people stay connected to what’s important? How do we support people who are needing community and connection?
We had started a program just before COVID – a small groups program that was meeting in people’s homes as a way for people to be in community around spiritual unfolding. We moved that entirely online. I had no idea how it was going to work because we have a diverse generational community. We have folks who are 75 and are not trying to figure out how to learn Zoom. And, yet, they did. Everyone rallied; we had people who felt safe enough to go to people’s homes and show them how to get on Zoom and set up their computers. The thing that surprised me the most was the relationships that deepened in the virtual context. We didn’t know if that was going to be meaningful to people or if it was going to continue to provide community and connection as it had in person, but it has.
I sent a survey out pretty early on to our community – April 2020 – and said, “What do you need?” What came back was that they wanted robocalls! Who knew? They wanted daily prayer calls and text affirmations. So, we did that. We have a team of licensed spiritual practitioners who are trained to pray with people. A team of those folks started putting together these daily prayer practices and affirmations. Over 250 people have signed up for this.
As a minister, I’ve wanted people to have a daily practice all along. And yet, it’s during COVID when people asked for a daily prayer practice. They wanted it, which was stunning and really heartening. So, these simple things – they almost feel silly – that we’ve done in response to COVID have actually brought more people into a daily practice.
We’re over a year in now, and I think we’ve had enough time to gain a little perspective. My first reaction when COVID started was thinking that there was an invitation in this for everyone, globally at the same time, to have an awakening for what matters. I remember talking to people about the sabbath, if you will, that’s being invited – the opportunity to slow down enough and really take inventory and to go within. To recognize that there is a power and a presence and a wisdom that we all have access to in our own beings, but because of our lifestyles, most of us don’t even know that it’s there or we don’t have much of a relationship with it. So, with COVID, I thought, “Here we are – this is the moment.” I never want to diminish the grief and the losses and the disconnection so many people have experienced – especially so many people living alone. I’m not playing that down – and still, this opportunity has been given to us.
I do believe that our choices, and who we choose to be, the places we may be called to, and what we do, matter. I have been blown away by the number of phone calls and emails I get from our community members saying, “I need to do something. I just need to do something. What can I do? How can I help?” I love what’s been happening in neighborhoods – what’s happening on porches and in yards. I hear story after story of people who live alone and talk to neighbors over the fence. It’s the only connection they have. Or the walks that are happening. You may be able to only smile at your neighbor, and you just want them to know you’re thinking fondly of them by your smile. These are very simple, foundational ways of being – and I think if we’ve learned anything in this last year, it’s how important we are to one another.
As things open up, I find myself a bit anxious. I think a big part of that is I just don’t want people to go back to sleep. We’ve had such an awakening – an opportunity. And, who am I to say exactly what that is, but I think we’ve awoken to some harsh realities; we’ve awoken to what I think is true in us, what matters and what is truly important in our own lives – the relationships and connections, and the way we spend our time. I get anxious about the temptation of busying ourselves again. I get anxious about the ways we can numb ourselves as things begin to open up. And, my prayer is really that we hold tight to what we’ve learned and we make it matter. We keep it as we move forward.
