Prefer to watch instead? The video version of this reflection is available below.

If you know a bit of my story, you probably know this part: I’m a former Christian pastor who now aligns with Buddhist principles and practices.

That’s not exactly a common spiritual arc! And for a long time, I couldn’t talk about it openly — not because I was hiding anything, but because I didn’t think I was allowed to be that honest with myself, let alone with anyone else.

So let me say this right at the start:

I’m not telling you what you should believe. I’m simply sharing where my path has taken me.

My journey is descriptive, not prescriptive.

And the truth is, the questions that eventually led me in a different direction weren’t new. They’d been with me for years — quiet, persistent, always waiting just below the surface. But I pushed them down because I believed certainty was part of the role I was supposed to play.

For several decades, I carried an internal pressure to sound unwavering and confident. No one demanded that of me. It was something I placed on myself.

So I preached with conviction. I taught with clarity. And even on the days when I didn’t feel steady inside, I spoke as though I did.

I wasn’t speaking in absolutes because I had all the answers — I was speaking that way because I genuinely believed it was what people were looking for, what they needed from me. And when my inner world began to shift, I tucked those questions away because I didn’t think there was room for them.

Every now and then, someone from my past expresses confusion or disappointment about where I’ve landed spiritually. I understand why. They’re seeing my journey through the lens that shaped theirs. But I’ll be honest — some of those comments have stung. Still, I try to meet them with compassion rather than defensiveness. We’re all doing the best we can with the tools we have.

When alcoholism took hold — and when recovery later stripped everything down to the studs — that old image of certainty finally cracked. Beneath it were the questions I’d avoided for years. Exploring them wasn’t about rejecting Christianity or grasping something “better.” It was simply about being honest.

So when I talk about meditation, Buddhism, or presence, I’m not trying to convert anyone or convince anyone. I’m simply offering an honest look at where my path has led — just sharing my experience, nothing more and nothing less.

And here’s why I share it:
I spent years feeling like I couldn’t speak openly about my questions, my doubts, or the internal struggles I was carrying around inside. If my honesty helps someone else feel even a little more free to explore their own questions — without fear, shame, or pressure — then it’s worth it.

Your path is yours.
Your beliefs are yours.
Your questions are yours.

If something from my journey supports yours, I’m grateful. If not, that’s perfectly okay too.

Because the goal isn’t for all of us to end up in the same place.

The goal is for each of us to walk our own path — with honesty, curiosity, and courage.

So, what’s the take-away?
Your questioning doesn’t make you broken — it makes you human. You’re free to explore your own truth with openness and compassion, without the weight of guilt or the pressure to explain yourself.