I am deeply grateful to my creator for granting me the understanding of what it truly means to be rich in spirit. While many in the world seek material wealth (which I acknowledge can simplify life), my own perspective on wealth and prosperity has always been different, even from a young age.
From as far back as I can remember, I have always sought happiness. I have never liked being sad, and I disliked seeing others unhappy as well. As I grew older, I consistently prayed for happiness, even during tough times with my family, who often did not show me love. Despite being a good student, excelling in my studies and on exams, I went to university without a clear idea of what I wanted to pursue. I couldn’t envision myself working in an office or as a medical professional. Instead, I dreamed of using my education to engage in charity work in places like India, journeying through Nepal, dancing to drums in Africa, or simply enjoying life in a laid-back manner.
Of course, I couldn’t share these dreams with my family, especially my very judgmental mother who already considered me the “odd one out” among her children. The idea of adopting a Rasta lifestyle and living a righteous life was also out of the question; it would have been too much for her to handle. Nevertheless, I was “strange” in her eyes because I loved to read and had no friends. Books were, and still are, my closest companions. My favorite pastime as a teenager was to go to the botanical gardens with a book and a sandwich, sit under a large shaded tree, and read while soaking in the beauty of nature. During these moments, I would dream between reading sessions, transported by the stories to far-off places that I still yearn to visit. Often, I would look up at the blue sky, feeling the warmth of the sun as it seemed to peer into my book, and dream.
In these daydreams, I envisioned a life free from my family’s expectations. I saw myself as someone important, loved by others and reciprocating that love. Although I desired a husband and family life, they were absent from my dreams. I saw children who, like me, loved nature, travel, and adventure.
The mind is a wonderful sanctuary, offering a first-class ticket to escape reality whenever needed. I hope everyone can distinguish between the dream world and reality and return to their life’s responsibilities. In my dreams, I saw a future filled with unique adventures and happiness. I had no idea at the time that I was sad, as my dreams shielded me from the harsh realities of the present. I wonder now if my non-physical guides helped me escape to another world to protect me from my difficult reality, and if so, I extend my gratitude to them.
Despite the challenges in my life, I have always believed that everything would turn out well. I never dwelled on sorrow, and if something brought me to tears, the sadness rarely lasted beyond a day or two. I was quick to release pain, holding onto the belief that good would eventually emerge, and so I waited.
Life did not turn out as I had imagined. My joy and happiness came from my children, but raising and caring for them fell solely on me. The fathers abandoned us, my family turned their backs, and I had no friends to support me. With no one by my side, I had my children close together, making dreams of traveling to the Himalayas or visiting Sai Baba’s ashram in India unattainable. My imagined adventures remained in the dream world, as life had taken its own path. Despite not having the means, I couldn’t leave my children and certainly couldn’t afford to go anywhere.
I took control of my life, persevering through bitter tears, especially at night when I worried about how I would feed my children the next day. My fourth-grade teacher in Jamaica, Mrs. Haughton, a tall, dark-skinned woman with a stern but charismatic presence, often told us, “Children, all’s well that ends well.” Her booming voice left a lasting impression on me.
And indeed, all’s well that ends well. Life eventually turned out well for me. Despite the pain and hardship, I emerged intact, of sound mind (as sound as it gets, I suppose). I am now Obara Meji, someone others turn to for counsel and advice. I may not have visited Sai Baba’s ashram (which wasn’t a big deal for me anyway), met monks in Nepal (a visit I still hope to make), or climbed the Himalayas (I need to lose some weight for that). However, I did get to dance to drums in Africa and traveled extensively, making it to a place my ancestors longed to return to but never could—Africa.
I am rich in spirit because I have lived my dreams and brought them into my reality. Part of that young girl’s dream was to travel, and I did go to Africa. My spirituality has freed me from longing for material wealth and from the rush for gold, bright lights, and big cities. It has freed me to accept and appreciate my life as it is, thanks to my faith and the removal of illusions. I am rich in spirit because I am free!
