This short talk, presented on May 4, 2025 to the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Glens Falls, was part of a service co-lead by me and two other One Spirit Interfaith Seminary graduates in which we shared our journeys to, through, and after seminary.
I was raised on the south shore of Long Island, by parents who only felt obligated to go to church when the weather wasn’t good for boating. My dad would say, “If God wanted me to be in church, he wouldn’t have put the ocean there.” During the winter and rainy summer Sundays, I went to Methodist Sunday school and confirmation class. But if the weather was nice, I’d be on some isolated beach, playing with hermit crabs, sharing lunch with gulls, and swimming with jellyfish. I developed a reverence for nature beings which still informs my spiritual beliefs.
The ocean life wasn’t meant to be forever, though. After high school, I moved with my family to New Jersey and went to college and got a degree in accounting, of all things. There was a too young marriage and a divorce, followed by an unplanned pregnancy. There was also a series of Methodist churches that never felt welcoming or right, especially for a single mother. Eventually, I left Christianity behind and began an exploration of the broader spiritual world.
Have you ever seen a red eft? They’re those little orange salamanders you see around here, especially after a rain. They’re actually the juvenile phase of the eastern newt. They leave the water and wander around for a few years until they find a pond they like, then they go back into the water, regrow their gills, and turn into grownup newts. They stay in that pond for the rest of their lives, so it has to be a good fit. For most of my spiritual life, I have felt like a red eft, a spiritual nomad.
That broader spiritual journey started in the early days of the internet, where, on personal webpages, message boards and in chat rooms, I discovered Earth-based spirituality and neo-Paganism. I began a private study of Wicca and was delighted to see awe and reverence for nature its teachings. After a few years of studying on my own, I found local groups, classes, and friends.
While I was wandering an Earth-based path, my little brother went to Methodist seminary and family holidays got interesting. Ultimately, it became the basis for an interfaith approach.
I finally found my way into the UU congregation in Princeton, New Jersey, through their CUUPS group for Pagans and was exposed to other traditions such as Buddhism and Judaism. I also got very into yoga practice and philosophy.
In 2008, shortly after I completed yoga teacher training, my husband was laid off and we decided to leave New Jersey. My parents retired to their Schroon Lake summer house, and we moved here, too. I was burnt out on my accounting career and decided to teach yoga instead. I used the basement of Schroon Lake’s community church, where my parents went, for yoga classes. I went to services occasionally, trying again to be a good Methodist, but once I opened a proper yoga studio elsewhere, I was done trying.
Really, though, I sought spiritual fulfillment in nature. It wasn’t the ocean, but the lake and surrounding mountains were abundant with wildlife and isolated places that provided experiences of reverence like I felt as a kid. I missed my Pagan community, though. Despite the awe-inspiring nature around me, my spiritual journey stagnated for a few years.
In 2015, I began to explore shamanism and then learned Shamanic Reiki, which attuned me deeply to the Earth and nature, especially wildlife. I found shamanism came more naturally to me than the Pagan traditions I’d tried.
In 2017, my dad passed away suddenly, and grief led to deepening my shamanic practices which, in turn, ignited my curiosity about the lives of the animals that appeared in my journeys. I dove into natural history, local ecology, and wildlife conservation. That’s how I found out about wildlife rehabilitation and, once I knew what it was, I felt called to it. If you’ve met me, you know that stuck.
Funny enough, it was my Methodist pastor brother who suggested interfaith seminary. He was in Woodstock at the time and met several One Spirit graduates during community events. He thought I’d fit in with them. I enrolled in One Spirit just as New York was shutting down for the pandemic. Even though we were in lockdown, I was teaching Shamanic Reiki online, founding my nonprofit turtle rescue, and shutting down my yoga studio, which left little time or energy for my own spiritual practices. By the end of the first year, I felt like a red eft who had wandered far from any ponds and was unsure in which direction to head.
Learning about pouring libations, like we did at the beginning of the service, helped in an unexpected way. A couple of months before, I had an embarrassing meltdown during discussion with our indigenous spirituality presenter about my uninspiring European roots. She said something that stuck with me: “Everyone’s people are indigenous to somewhere.” Then, pouring libations and calling on my ancestors, I realized I didn’t know who they were. Exploring my English and Welsh roots led me to Druidry which is now my personal spirituality. The red eft finally found a pond.
Since ordination, my ministry has also found an Earth-based focus, but I’m taking an interfaith approach to telling the Earth’s stories. Maybe they’ll inspire your reverence for the nature beings, and that would be a good end to my interfaith journey.