About ten years ago, I tried to find myself a spiritual director. Like a lot of educated baby boomers, I reached the stage where the old tyme religion just wasn’t good enough anymore. The problems of life were getting nastier, the threat of meaninglessness was growing stronger, and so I wanted something deeper. The great spiritualists from the past recommend the institution of spiritual direction, whereby a person with a deep and mature faith helps another to find his or her own pathway to that state. So I decided to seek out a director.

Unfortunately, I never found one (and have pretty much given up looking). But I did make the effort and tried out a couple of middle aged priests. One was Episcopalian, one was Roman Catholic, and one was Presbyterian. I met once a month with each of them; each lasted about four to six months. It wasn’t bad; they each had some interesting things to say. But I guess that I was expecting something more. There was a psychological distance in each case, an air of “professionalism” perhaps. I read somewhere that a spiritual director is supposed to act as a friend who walks the journey of life with you. Personally, I never felt that friendship. What I did feel, at least in one instance, was a hand in my pocket. Not literally; I believe that Bob was a frustrated homosexual, but he wasn’t attracted to me (thank goodness).

However, I think that Bob was attracted to the idea of fiscal remuneration. I received a letter one day after seeing Bob for about 5 or 6 months, in which he tried to grasp the issue of money. In other words, Bob wasn’t in the spiritual direction business as a hobby; he needed cash! (And he probably did; at the time he was the pastor of some shrinking congregation that was obviously going broke and couldn’t afford to pay him much). Bob’s letter didn’t come right out and say “you owe me for the past 6 months”, but it did make some comparisons with the rates that shrinks charge per hour — as if to imply that an hour with him was as good as an hour with the average psychoanalyst (and maybe it was; I was never in therapy, but I’ve heard that there are a lot of lousy therapists out there). Well, I sent him a check for about $150, on the rationale that he might have been worth $25 an hour. However, at our next meeting I said that I hoped that it wasn’t all about money (and that I didn’t have to bring a checkbook with me every month).

Next month when I rang on his bell, no one answered the door. About a week later he mailed me a note apologizing for forgetting our appointment, and asked me to call him to reschedule. I called a couple of times and got his voicemail, so I left messages asking if a certain date was OK. I never got any response. Guess he didn’t forget that appointment (or that disappointing check) after all.

The Presbyterian guy never asked me for money, but he eventually shook me off similar to how Bob did. The Catholic guy, Fr. Albert, wasn’t bad. If I had kept on following up with him, he probably would have continued. It was me who lost interest in the arrangement. Even though he was in a monastic order and had written books on spirituality, Fr. Albert just didn’t seem to offer me anything more interesting that the basic Catholicism that I grew up with. I was looking for something a little bigger, a little more universal (more catholic than catholic!). But his books are still pretty good; they’re not very deep, but they do have breadth (as the good father is a world traveler). Fr. Albert never implied that I owed him money for our chats; in fact, he gave me a free copy of one of his books! The least I can do is give him a little plug here.

I guess that my spirit is just not directable (at least not for what I’m willing to pay). Perhaps the Buddha was right; ultimately, you have to go it alone.