My Ordination as a Spiritualist Minister — A Human and Surreal Journey

Being ordained as a spiritualist minister hasn’t turned me into a serene, robe-wearing sage who floats around dispensing wisdom like spiritual confetti. Although floating in a robe sounds like a fun thing to do! If anything, it has made me even more aware that I am just like everyone else — trying to make sense of this wild, beautiful, baffling world while occasionally tripping over my own feet in the process and eating too much cake.

This ordination has felt less like a grand spiritual “arrival” and more like a gentle stitching-together of all the parts of me: the deeply sensitive spiritual side, the practical celebrant side, and the very human side that sometimes cries in the kitchen while making tea. It’s allowed me to acknowledge openly that my connection to the spark within us — and beyond us — is real, even if I don’t always feel luminous, indeed some days my light is more of a flickering candle than a radiant beacon.

I’ve always been sensitive to the energies around me, both physical and non-physical, but I used to keep that part quiet. Old fears of being judged or dismissed made me cautious. I didn’t want to seem “too out there.” And honestly, I didn’t want to risk ridicule at a time when I already felt vulnerable. But ordination has softened that fear. It has helped me accept that my sensitivity is not something strange — it’s simply part of who I am, like my tendency to cry at adverts or my love of putting on funny voices and pulling faces.

Exploring different doctrines and spiritual teachings has shown me that, at their core, they all point toward the same truth: kindness matters. Kindness to ourselves, to others, and to the earth. We are all connected by a spark of energy that lives within every living thing. I agree with others who call the earth a ‘schoolroom’ and none of us are here to get it perfect — we are here to learn, to grow, and to support one another. Preferably with hugs and funny voices- and ice cream.

And I say this with humility: I am learning every day. I am not above anyone. I am not wiser or more enlightened. I am a human being who is currently walking through some dark and difficult chapters in my own life. There are days when I feel lost, days when I feel alone, and days when I wonder how to keep going. These experiences make me acutely aware of how many people feel the same — how easy it is to cut ourselves off from the joy of connection when life feels overwhelming.

My dear friend reminded me recently of the words of Ram Dass which resonate so deeply:

“We’re all just walking each other home”- from his book, co-authored with Mirabai Bush, Walking Each Other Home: Conversations on Loving and Dying.

Some of us are walking gracefully. Some of us are hobbling. Some of us are stopping for a breather or a biscuit. But we’re walking together all the same.

In my work as a funeral celebrant, I continue to meet people in their grief, honouring their beliefs or their choice to have none. In weddings, I continue to celebrate love in all its forms, getting to know each couple as the unique individuals they are. My ceremonies are shaped by their stories, not mine (Though I do love an outdoor countryside handfasting!) But everything I do now comes from a deeper awareness that we are connected, and that my role is simply to shine whatever light I have — even when it flickers.

KC Musgraves’ song “There Is a Light” has been echoing through me lately. The reminder that even when we hide our light, even when doubt creeps in, even when life feels dark, the light inside us never truly goes out. It may dim, it may flicker, it may need a metaphorical new bulb… but it remains.

My ordination does not mean I am suddenly whole or healed or certain. It means I am committed to walking with others, with humility, humour, and honesty, as we all try to make sense of this beautiful, bewildering life.

If you are planning a ceremony or need support during a difficult time, I bring openness, warmth, and a very human heart. I will meet you exactly where you are — because I am right there too, learning, growing, laughing when I can, and making this journey alongside you.