Chapter 2

Spirituality

“Spiritual energy is that which comes from pure consciousness. It’s the creative energy of the universe that gives us vitality and therefore, life.”

—Deepak Chopra

Back in the ’90s, there was something of an awakening around spirituality and self-development. In the decades before, going to the self-help section of the bookshop was an embarrassing, almost shameful thing to do.

There was a huge stigma around seeking spiritual guidance (outside of the dominant religious institutions) or exploring areas of thought and study around mysticism, the metaphysical, or esoteric ideas. Doing so somehow made you a weak person, someone who was flailing through life and desperate for something to cling to.

This stereotype was reinforced through movies and TV shows where women with dishevelled hair, bloodshot eyes, a soggy tissue peeking out from their cuff, and a gloomy demeanour would wander self-help aisles in bookstores like lost lambs, clutching books with titles like Why Doesn’t He Love Me? or The Emotional Doormat’s Guide to Life.

Even now, I’ll occasionally see a movie where the shame of seeking spiritual or emotional answers is reinforced. The cool Kate Hudson type of girl will hide her copy of Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus under a couch cushion when her date arrives. There’ll be a strange woman living down the street from the movie’s protagonist who never opens her curtains, wears too much crushed velvet, and celebrates moon cycles.

You’ve likely seen your share of these characters, who are often portrayed as a bit wacky or loopy. And they’re pretty much always women. Why? Because men don’t go in for all that spiritual stuff. Men are tough. Right? What a crock of shit.

We are all spiritual beings. We all are made up of the same energies. We all have the same feelings and needs. Why wouldn’t men be spiritual, too?

Even after Tony Robbins started bringing self-help concepts off the dusty discount table in the backroom of society to the forefront of our cultural consciousness, men still didn’t get a free pass. Because accompanying this awakening came a cultural fad around the “Sensitive New Age Guy.”

A Sensitive New Age Guy can roughly be defined as a man who is in touch with his emotional and spiritual side and is unafraid to show it. As we Aussies tend to do, we abbreviated the term to SNAG.

For my friends outside Australia, snag is an abbreviated word for sausages here. (Yes, we abbreviate words a lot.) So men who started openly exploring their own spirituality and emotional landscape became aligned with a cooked cocoon of cheap meat we often burn in the company of friends. These men were sneered at by others who were still in a state of resistance about “all this New Age mumbo jumbo.”

“Look at that guy with the long hair. What a snaaaaaag,” people would drawl nastily. Snags were sooks. They were softies. They were somehow not men because men were expected to never cry, never express their emotions, never complain about working hard . . . they were stoic. They were rocks. Once again, utter bullshit. But it’s what our fathers were taught, and their fathers before them, and so on.

So, whether you’re a woman thinking of those stereotypical characters or a man who has been criticized for even thinking about spiritual things, it’s likely that you’re reading this chapter with a bit of resistance. Perhaps even trepidation. Is Barry going to start talking in tongues and asking me to make a blood sacrifice?

Not today (ha-ha). But in all seriousness, just be aware that you’ve had a lifetime of gentle reinforcement of the idea that “New Age stuff” is the realm of the cuckoo. It’s okay. People tend to ridicule and reject things they don’t understand.

What Is Spirituality Actually ?

Spirituality, in the simplest terms, is about connecting with something larger than yourself. It’s about being connected to a higher Source. Call it God, Allah, Buddha, Gaia, whatever. The name is irrelevant.

Through spiritual practices, we seek answers about the meaning of life, how people are connected to each other, truths about the universe, and other mysteries of human existence. In order to explore these questions, we must explore something far outside the paradigms of this materialistic world. Something far beyond the constructs of the physical, which over time will age, wear, and collapse.

Spiritually connected people have a deep understanding of who they really are and why they’re here on this planet living this life. Because of these deep connections with themselves and the energies of the universe, they are able to see, feel, and take everything in holistically and then make decisions that feel right for them. Not because society tells them that it’s the right decision but because they know it’s aligned with their true being and purpose.

So, how do we get in touch with our true being and purpose? You’ll discover that as you continue to read this book. But for now, know that being in touch with your spiritual self comes from building a deeper connection with your heart. A spiritually connected person is guided by their heart. They’re in tune with their intuition. They understand how the energies of life are pushing them and pulling them in the directions they need to go.

Living in a place where you’re connected with your spirituality is a beautiful state to be in. It’s freeing. You exist in a state of flow. You are happy, at the deepest level. And the more connected you become, the easier—and better—life gets.

Have you ever known a person who seems really lucky? Everything just seems to work out for them? Wealth and abundance come easily? They seem blessed? That is the state spiritually connected people live in. They are aware of who they are and what their purpose is. Most importantly, they listen to their heart’s intuition, which is universal energy showing them which way to go.

Now, this view of spirituality is not common. It’s not how I was taught to see spiritual life either.

A Search for Answers

I grew up in a Christian family. Like many other families in our neighbourhood, we went to church at Christmas and Easter. We went to Christian Christmas concerts. I was sent to Sunday School for a while, which is like an educational boot camp for kids where they get taught stories from the Bible and get introduced to the major themes of Christianity.

One thing I noticed very early on is that I felt a sense of disassociation whenever I heard stories from the Bible or stories about Jesus. It all felt so far away, so separate from me. This feeling of disassociation only grew as I entered my teenage years.

When we’re young, we believe whatever is taught to us by the significant people in our lives, usually our parents and teachers. Most researchers agree that by the age of six, a person’s belief system is fairly well-formed. Six-year-olds tend to have a pretty solid idea of what they believe to be right and wrong, fair and unfair, good and bad.

But while six-year-old Barry may have accepted that the Christian beliefs he was being taught were “right” from a traditional point of view, there was still something that didn’t quite connect in his heart. There was a pretty big cognitive gap between the life of a man who lived centuries ago in the Middle East and his life in 1980s suburban Australia.

In short: I couldn’t feel Jesus. I couldn’t connect with him in my heart.

Although I’d always been around the doctrine of the church, participating as a Christian was more of a hassle than a duty I felt bound to. I didn’t want to go to church on Christmas Eve. I wanted to hover around the tree and get excited for the fun of Christmas Day.

When I reached my teens and began questioning everything (which is a teenager’s job!), I had a defining moment when I walked into a church in Launceston, where I grew up. They were trying to get people to sign a petition against same-sex marriage.

It didn’t feel right. Wasn’t God all about love? And isn’t that love abundant and all-inclusive? And most importantly, isn’t his love unconditional? Surely it doesn’t matter if that love is between two men, two women, or two non-binary people. I believed this in my heart then, and I still do today. So how could so many Christians get it so very wrong?

Looking back, I think that was when I started truly questioning the things I’d been taught to believe. If Christianity got it wrong sometimes, surely all religions got it wrong sometimes. And if religion didn’t have all the answers, where could I look for the truth behind the big questions bouncing around in my head?

Where did we come from? What was the purpose of life?

Like most people, I had a feeling that there was more to life than what appeared on the surface. Surely, we don’t just exist to work and earn money, pay bills, buy a house, and so forth.

All my life up to that point, I’d had overwhelming evidence that life was about advancement. We work to get to a better position than we are now. My parents worked hard to give my brothers and me a nice home, a good education, and the occasional family vacay. But they were always tired. My dad was often absent, working long hours to keep providing for our economic needs.

They advanced their lot in life, but they sacrificed plenty, too. Still, they never stopped and said, “That’s it. I’ve accumulated enough stuff, I’ve got...