Reflections on a Spiritual Journey

Share this page...

Can spiritual journeys be something other than finding a religion or a God? A personal interpretation. My story’s a bit different – but maybe it’s yours too ….

Speaker & Worship Leader:- Maria Hayward

Reflections on a Spiritual Journey
Listen or download the MP3 – Full Episode
Listen or download the MP3 – Talk Only

Read below, or download the PDF


Maria Hayward © 24 May 2026

What is a Spiritual Journey?

According to AI, “a spiritual journey is a personal, non-linear quest to deepen self-awareness, connect with a higher purpose, and find inner peace”. The definition continues: A spiritual journey “involves shifting from ego-driven living to authenticity, often marked by meditation, mindfulness, and self-reflection. The process often starts at the heart, nurturing compassion and a deeper connection to the cosmos.”

I quite like that definition – although a connection to the cosmos might not be the words I’d use. And churches or religion are not mentioned. I also think that it doesn’t matter whether our spiritual journeys include a concept of God or religion or church. These are all personal worlds and we make our own decisions about which aspects of spirituality have relevance or meaning for us. It doesn’t matter that there are differences in our spiritual journeys or beliefs or credence. In my opinion, what matters is how we live our lives. And how we make decisions in our lives – what guides us? It is interesting to hear the variety of spiritual interpretations and journeys that we’ve been hearing over the last few weeks.

Today I’ll share my journey. Mine is not so much about waka jumping (or faith/church swapping) – it’s more about that ethereal thing, the development of my moral compass, perhaps, that steers or guides me in my life. This is today’s ‘take’, the theme or topic for today’s service.


My Spiritual Journey

There is a whakatauki: “He Ātua, he Tangata”: We are both Divine and Human. I’ll come back to that later …

For today’s kōrero, I set out to write a linear story about my journey from Catholicism to atheism to agnosticism, to no labels (or nothing), and then to Universal Unitarianism. But I found myself writing something quite different. However, according to the AI definition I read earlier, it does fit under that broader definition of a spiritual journey.

My journey is about a goal to become the best person I can possibly be. I’m not going to apologise if this sounds smug or sanctimonious or even fatuous. I don’t mean this statement in a grandiose way – just in the sense of this being a journey. And I also want to talk today about the journey towards developing the type of strength and courage that might be needed for becoming that person, and also for making the right decisions at those critical life moments – the extreme of which might even be a life or death decision (I’ll explain more about this later). I consider part of my spiritual journey to be developing that strength and courage.

So, my kōrero today is not about spiritual ‘waka jumping’ or moving from one ‘religion to another’. It’s about what I need – to become that thing that might be mocked by some (and I don’t care) – a good person who contributes positively to the world. This is the spiritual journey I want to talk about.

I think this journey began many decades ago for me.

When I was in my teens, there was a very powerful television series called ‘Holocaust’. As you will know, or can guess, it was about the Jewish extermination during WWII. The series resulted in a seminal shift in my understanding of humanity. It was when I first saw and learned about evil. I clearly recall my parents being silent during the programmes, which must have been very triggering for them, as both had been young teenagers when Germany occupied the Netherlands in 1940.

I also remember having quite impassioned discussions with my parents after the final episode. I had so many questions. And my parents, my father in particular, gave me very thoughtful and detailed responses.

“Many people”, he said, “didn’t actually want to think about what was going on – the rounding up of Jewish people didn’t affect them, they turned a blind eye”. And he added: “Some Dutch people felt too scared to do anything – they knew they might risk their own, or their family’s lives”. And my parents also told me, “A few people were actually pro-Hitler – it wasn’t just a ‘flaw’ in the German character”. I recall them also saying: “Hitler got the trains running on time and he promised to relieve Germany of its WWI war reparation debts”. He was going to make Germany great again. My father then added: “You have to be careful about leaders like Hitler. Hitler made people feel he was sorting out Germany’s problems, and with these reassurances many people didn’t ‘hear’ his really dangerous messages”. This was my introduction to what fascism was, its effects and, I suppose, its appeal.

You know all of this, but I learned it at 15 and I think it might have been the first time I started ‘thinking critically’. So, this was a pivotal moment in my moral development. And I was certain, at that youthful age, that I would be the brave warrior opposing evil, fighting and risking my life for good. As I got older, I started wondering, how I could be sure that I wouldn’t be the person who, as my father had mentioned, was either too scared to act or who turned a blind eye to evil, or who didn’t notice “the dangerous messages”. I figured that there was some sort of mental preparation I would need to do, so that I could have the strength to be a moral person and to act with courage.

I continued to think about good and evil. My reading, my thinking, my studies (at school, but mostly at Uni), discussions with peers, amongst other things, all comprised (even if accidentally) – all comprised this mental and spiritual work and contributed towards developing characteristics that I hoped would help me make the right decisions should a moral dilemma – large or small, occur in my life. This was my resolve. (Would I help a persecuted group, or would I turn a blind eye, or unintentionally collude?)

A few decades later, I had to revisit that resolve and question my moral courage. A group of former refugees I was teaching posed this question to me: “What if someone threatened to ‘hurt’ (they meant rape) your daughter, if you didn’t give them what they wanted (like telling them where certain people were hiding), what would you do?”

I became aware that some decisions might be really hard and, if the choice was between one of my children or contributing to evil, I’m pretty sure I’d save my children. But I decided I would still need to be as strong and ethical as I possibly could be. There could be other situations, not as difficult, where I would want to do the right thing.

I now know, that we will never know for sure how we’ll react in a moment of crisis. Nevertheless, I also know that we have a better chance of responding with moral courage if we plan to do so beforehand. And what that TV series did for me a long time ago, was to start my wish to develop a strong moral compass to enable me to contribute to humanity in a positive way. This is the spiritual journey I am talking about today.

Did organised religion play any part?

I was already moving away from the Catholic church by the time I’d left school – but one thing I did like about this religion was its emphasis on social service, that is: on helping and caring for those less fortunate. I took aspects from Catholicism as well as from my family’s strong moral beliefs and just kept bolstering these throughout my adult life (well, I hope so). I became aware that being the person who stood up against evil at a pivotal moment, required not only a deep personal conviction, but also knowledge about what strategies might be effective in achieving this. This was my ambitious aspiration. Obviously, it didn’t preoccupy my time and energy every single day or week or even month or year – but it was always there, somewhere, and I kept revisiting those thoughts whenever there was an outside stimulus or trigger. Working with former refugees really pushed me along in this journey. I heard many stories from people who actually had had to make those decisions and many risked their own lives to make the morally correct choice. I was moved to hear how many people did this. How courageous and moral and kind and generous human beings can be.

Many years after that TV series, my father and I were having a discussion and he expressed how there were certain political decisions (both in NZ and further afield) that he really worried about. He believed these sorts of decisions or policies could lead to fascism. He was always a bit of a pessimist, and I argued, that we would never get fascism in the modern democratic world again. I stressed that we had learned from history. (Haha!! I’m glad my father is not alive today to see that he was right…). Now I see the seeds of fascism springing up even here in Aotearoa. And I do need to think about my commitment to take action against fascism and hate.

But, returning to my spiritual journey: I want to reflect on the more explicit, ‘pou’ (pillars or posts of support – usually in the wharenui) that I think can provide that spiritual and moral strength. I get helped in my spiritual journey towards being that ideal, a ‘warrior for social justice’ or on the journey that Socrates called the path towards ‘virtue’ – hope this doesn’t sound smug …. I get helped to be that warrior-type person by engaging in various tasks – and these constitute the elements (the pou) that have supported and still do support, my spiritual journey:

The pou, or things that support me in this spiritual journey are that I:

  • try to surround myself, where possible, with people who have similar values – this gives me strength – I know I’m not alone. These people, these friends also assist me with my thinking.

And, I am helped to be that warrior by:

  • gathering authenticated facts and figures, scientific data, and accurate information – in other words, getting the truth.
  • and finally, by listening to people who challenge me intellectually.

And some of that I get from here, from this place, almost every week, this helps me get re-charged.

Churches and religions have always been involved in good behaviour, social justice – whatever their interpretation of that might be. They have also, at times, been wrong. Some have been greedy and abusive and punitive and corrupt and cruel. Of course, there have always been some religious people who stand on the precipice, who take risks, who drive change and revolution, who support ‘thinkers’ and ‘critical thinking’. But quite a few academics and social changers, actually developed more in their thinking because they rejected their religious ‘family’. Some became Unitarians – after they rejected more conventional religions!

And when I look at the Unitarians, especially in the US: what amazing social action many of the churches there are undertaking right now. The UUA website is full of political statements and stances the church is taking about what is happening in the US, and they are providing guidance for their followers. It’s the direction of ‘good people’: fighting for women’s rights, fighting for the rights of minorities – immigrants and transgender people, fighting for justice and democracy, fighting ICE, opposing war-mongers, fighting fascism, and marching against would-be kings and tyrants. It’s the ‘action’ that our principles urge of us and I’m very proud to be part of this group of people who don’t just sit in churches and ‘pray’, even if they are praying for the right things.

My journey has also involved thinking about taking action. But I’m aware that we (I) might not take that very important action:

  • If we feel afraid or weak or vulnerable

And we also don’t take action

  • if we don’t know how to – if we don’t know what to do
  • if we’re not informed about why it is important.

And we don’t take action

  • if we feel we will lose too much by doing so (or own children)

and finally, of course, we don’t take action:

  • if we don’t care enough. If we’re too egocentric or not affected personally by the threat.

Maybe an institution or church or group can help with overcoming some of these stumbling blocks. Or maybe individuals can do it on their own.

But churches and similar groups do provide something that you can’t have on your own – and that is community. A community of like-minded people.

And that’s partly why I’m here. I like the community and I like the homilies, the sermons, the musings – whatever you like to call them. The stimulation, the enquiry, the exhortation towards compassion – all help me on this journey.

Also, this place feels spiritual for me. Maybe what connects us is spiritual – knowledge that we share the same moral principles and values, and we covenant love and kindness together every Sunday. They’re ethereal things, spiritual things.

Your journey will be different from mine. I left the Catholic church because it wasn’t offering me any guidance, any inspiration – its emphasis and energy seemed to be on judgement, exclusion, punishment, sin, and blame (mea culpa, mea culpa – as we used to say when the Mass was in Latin).

I do think most churches see their role as guiding congregations towards good behaviour. And there are some central Auckland churches who probably do succeed in leading people towards ethical behaviour. But, I don’t necessarily think we need churches for moral guidance – I think we can do it on our own. But a community of like (or similar) minded thinkers – we can’t do that on our own. So, I like to have both.

And my concept of ‘god’? That idea for me, might well be kindness.

But where else is there spirituality among the Universal Unitarians? There is the music, the singing, the candles, the ritual of our Sunday services. These create a spiritual ambience – they reach us in that place that Catholics call our ‘soul’. This time in a spiritual space is sometimes a really calming time for me.

And I like the way that people in this church care for other members, always mentioning those who are unwell, remembering those who have passed, thinking about anyone who is struggling (even the ones unsaid or un-named, but that remain in our hearts). This seems like spiritual behaviour to me too. Maybe it’s this stuff – in combination: the stimulation, the challenges, the souls coming together, as well as the rituals, the music, the morning tea, the like-minded people – maybe all that together is my connection to spirituality right now. But most important for me is how this process keeps me on track regarding doing good in the world and how it sometimes transforms me towards more compassion, more understanding.

(So, that’s why I pledge to the Unitarians – that’s my little pledge testimony tucked in to this korero!).

In conclusion, I consider the pathway towards goodness instead of complacency to have been a spiritual journey for me. It’s not about finding a religion or my idea of God. It is the journey itself that is spiritual for me.

And on that note, kua mutu taku korero – my talk is finished.


Meditation / Conversation starter

  • Share one aspect of your spiritual journey with your group.

Discussion rules:

  • Keep your comments brief
  • Ensure everyone has a turn (or passes)
  • Listen, but do not comment (you can affirm with a very brief comment during your own speaking time)
  • You can add a further comment if everyone has had their turn to speak