I recently finished my first basic unit of Clinical Psychospiritual Education. It was exactly this kind of experience that I wanted when I first applied to my MDiv program. I liked theology, religion, philosophy, and that kind of thing; but I also wanted to do something with that information, y’know? I felt like that was the missing link in my education thus far, and I wanted a rich, practical experience of providing to people in need. I ended up getting all that I asked for, and then some.

How can I distill an experience like this to a short essay or blog post? I can’t really. Having said that, were I to dare to identify a common strand or theme among my CPE encounters, it would be this: Therapy is relationship. The meaning of your life is entirely unique and personal to you, and a purpose for you is there, if only you search for it.

That’s all very abstract and maybe a bit cliché, but it’s all true. When I started therapy myself, I picked up a book called On Becoming a Person by Carl Rogers, an American psychotherapy famed for his notion of “Client-Centred Therapy”. I was mostly drawn to the title. It’s hard to explain, but I felt like it met me where I was at. But as someone who later provided therapy to others, I became more interested in this idea of discerning what kind of therapeutic relationship would be beneficial for a person.

This ties into what I have to say about the meaning of life being personal. It’s all personal, everything’s personal! And so, when I found myself knocking on a resident’s room in Long-Term Care, I would try to do anything apart from going down a list of pathologies taken from the DSM-5 or what have you. Instead, I would simply try to explore how I can make this a beneficial human interaction.

To this end, I realised that each person’s needs were different. Their sense of self—their meaning and their purpose—was unique. You’d be surprised how little God would come up among residents I encountered. When he did, it was usually as a source of strength or guidance. Even less did I hear about the afterlife! As a general trend, the people I met were more interested in the possibilities for life that were available to them today.

One resident, (fake name) Martin, was a 94-year-old former boxing instructor. He loathed where he was at in life, but in one session with him, we talked about how he felt lost, separated from his sense of who he is. So, I held up my hand and said, “Punch it as hard as you can.” Which he did, and let me tell you, he wasn’t bad at all for 94. “See? You’re still that guy,” I told him. Last I saw him, he was doing laps on his wheelchair in the hallway.

Another, (fake name) Corina, simply needed “spiritual companionship”, and we would talk about concerns that weighed on her mind. She mentioned her frustrations with being in long-term care, but loathed to talk about it. She once remarked that “it was nice to have a conversation that wasn’t just about my care.” She had a difficult relationship with staff, but asked for help connecting with them in our final visit. Last I saw her, she was excited to get to know other members of the spiritual care team.

In each of these cases, I found myself centred on who these people needed to meet: a coach, offering encouragement? a friend? a clown? For another resident, Angela, it was far more of what you would expect: a combination of companionship and prayer. Each visit, I would pray a psalm of her choosing, and this would offer her some comfort as she struggled with Parkinson’s. So, as you might be starting to realise, there is no one-size-fits-all approach.

I shared these interactions recently near the end of my placement at a panel discussion hosted by Campus Ministry and the Catholic Association of Scientists, and I share it now to make the same point: What is spirituality? It’s actually not so much about ritual and organ music as you might think. Spirituality, the Spirit, God—or whatever name you prefer—can be found even in the very ordinary, in a simple chat or a moment where you’re opened up to new possibilities of what life is and what it can be. And for my part, as I passed over the beauty of the Don Valley on my way to Providence for the last time, amidst the crowded subway car of a Monday commute, I wondered what possibilities providence had in store for me.