I have many dreams. Like you, I share your vision of a church that allows every one and every body to flourish. I dream of a church so big that the margins aren’t margins at all but pathways to another dimension. I have so many dreams it feels overwhelming. I have so many dreams that I want to lay in a field and let my body become the home for a patch of wildflowers.
But in this moment, I feel like I am being called to sit at the feet of my mentors whose faces I do not yet see but whose motherly touch I can almost feel. I want to lay my head in the Spirit’s lap and let her brush my hair as she shares her stories.
I consider myself fairly well connected both in the mainstream Catholic sphere and the progressive Catholic spaces. Over these past couple of weeks, I have been frustrated by my lack of ability to identify BIPOC women identifying spiritual directors. I think of my experiences of spiritual direction with mostly elderly white men and a handful of white women. They have left me lacking. Yet my conversations with BIPOC women activists have been so spiritual and life-affirming.
In this moment, I dream of finding Spiritual Doulas who call the Spirit out of me, help me birth a new way of being from the energy that is already inside of me. I dream of gathering these women together to share stories and struggles, to learn from them, and, if I am so called, to accompany them women who come after me. I dream of creating a community that is constantly calling the Spirit into being.
Ultimately, I dream of a world and church without spiritual gatekeepers. I dream of a church where we all hold the keys and we nurture and love each other into unlocking.