Ick'd by the Boss for My Spiritual Beliefs

“You mean, you just lay there, with yourself, alone for days at a time? Alone. No food. No shelter. No humans. No, nothing,” my then-boss said with an air of doubt. Her face said it all. There was a mixture of pain, disbelief, and disgust that she couldn’t hide. “Yes, that’s how vision quests traditionally work,” I said almost clinically. I could tell she would have nothing constructive or positive to say by her tone, so I was curious about what would come out of her mouth next. She continued to reiterate what I just said. “So, no food, no tent, no electricity, no contact with any people, in the mountains for three days? Why are you even doing this to yourself? Are you ok?” I was not ok in ways that she did not know and did not fit her definition of what “not ok” looked like.

Working sixty to seventy hours a week for a greedy corporation that promotes a toxic work environment in a sick building under fluorescent lighting does not typically contribute to any human being’s okay-ness. A part of me thought the reason why my boss was so mentally anguished by my vision quest was because she feared that level of introspection. The original peoples of the Americas have done vision quests for hundreds if not thousands of years as a rite of passage. Many cultures have similar events that mark a person’s life milestones, attainment of a level of spiritual development, or promotion into a role within the tribe.

I intended to go within, connect with Source, and receive a vision of my life's greatest and highest timeline. “I have been preparing for this,” I said with confidence. “It sounds unsafe and like there is something seriously wrong with your life, and that is why you are doing this,” she said, sure of herself. Of course, she had to continue and bring work into it. “You’re taking Friday off, and we have events this weekend. You won’t be here to manage those events,” she said as she crossed her arms. “I’ve requested this time off months ago. I’ve already made coverage plans,” I said steadfastly. “Well, I hope you know what you are doing because this sounds crazy,” she said, resigned.

This was not the first time my then-boss, for lack of a better term, ick’d my spiritual practices. Thankfully, I was focused on completing my vision quest successfully, and my guide was amazing. She still is amazing. I will not be naming her in this post to protect her privacy. My overwhelming need for a vision and longing to connect with Source in this way obliterated what this hard-drinking, suburban mom with grandiose ideas of her power was saying to me. In a way, I pitied her, and I don’t think I would survive three days in her life just like she could not survive my three-day quest. So off I went.

I arrived back to work on a Tuesday morning, as Monday was a holiday. People in the office could not physically see me. They bumped into me because they simply could not see me. Did I die but didn’t realize it? Maybe I’m dead, I thought. I asked my guide, who held my vision quest, to see if this was a common phenomenon. She said that when your frequency increases that much, it may be harder for people to see you, even if you are right in front of them. This had also happened to her after her numerous vision quests. My guide would aim to go on one vision quest annually.

“So, did you see something? Did you get visions? You look pretty bright to me, so you didn’t die,” my boss said sarcastically. “Well, some part of me died. I won’t be sharing my visions here because they are personal,” I said as I walked back into my office. There was no emotional charge behind my response. It was the truth. Later that day, we were in a meeting, and my boss snarkily said, “Maria, since you are so enlightened now, can you give us an update on your project?” At every turn, this woman found a way to discredit my beliefs and how I conducted my life. “Sound bath again tonight? Do you go to those every week? I would never want to be alone with myself that much. Sounds boring,” she said. I kept sending her love and compassion. During our meetings, I would energetically place a mirror between us so her anger would reflect onto her. I had no interest in holding her stuff. I thought things would get easier as she got to work with me more and realized I wasn’t a threat. Unfortunately, our relationship became even more strained, and she became antagonistic.

We were all summoned to the corporate office on a Friday for an extensive work all-day meeting. I never enjoyed going to the corporate office. It was bloated, overdone, and too flashy for my taste. I used to call it the temple in honor of capitalism. We had been working since early in the morning. When 4:30 p.m. rolled around, so did a massive bar cart. No expense was spared. There were expensive bottles of wine, cocktails of any liquor you can imagine, and trays upon trays of heavy food. Bottles of red wine found their way to the conference room where we were working. “Maria, white or red,” my boss asked, and she handed me an empty glass. “Oh, no, thank you. I won’t be drinking,” I said calmly. “You aren’t going to get in trouble. Everyone is drinking because it’s happy hour. It might help to make your day go by quicker,” she said as if somehow this would put me at ease. “Yeah, no, thank you. I don’t want anything,” I said politely. “Are you sure? Because these bottles are the good stuff, and you probably don’t drink wine this good at home,” she said. “I believe you, but no, thank you,” I said. She asked me multiple times during those hours.

The truth of the matter was that I had stopped drinking years before that because my spiritual practices were, and still are, intense. Alcohol is not compatible with my lifestyle and my goals. I did not volunteer any of this information because I wasn’t asked. Speaking publicly about how spirits open your body to actual spirits that you may not want to be communing with was not going to go over well with a group of co-workers downing martinis. By 6:30 pm, more bottles were brought in because all my co-workers were drinking. Then, there was the call for dinner and drinks with co-workers from different departments. “Hey, I am drained. It’s been a long week, and I think it’s time for me to head home. Have a great time, everyone,” I said definitively. There was no way I was staying. Wild unicorns would have needed to appear for me to stay. I collected my things and walked to the elevator quickly. The elevator took what seemed like millennia.

As I stood in the elevator, I thought… What if I was pregnant? What if I was a recovering alcoholic? What if I was a Mormon? Anger and sadness bubbled up. My boss would never ask these questions and would not care to know the answers. Why are you pushing someone to drink who has politely told you multiple times that they are not drinking? I did not have the strength to explain why I was not drinking in a way that didn’t sound like I was judging the others, including her, for drinking. I didn’t have it in me to explain the intricacies of something as personal as my spiritual path. As I stood in that elevator, a sinking feeling brewed in my stomach and heart. What just happened would be brought up again and used against me. Sure enough, a few months later, it was.

Performance reviews came up, and I anticipated a positive review. I was doing my job well and expected a raise and a bonus. Reality slapped me hard in the face when my boss not only did not give me a raise but said that my performance was not meeting expectations. I was shocked and asked to be given specific examples of not meeting expectations. But you know what example was given? You guessed it! The work meeting turned into a night out at the club, where I did not drink with my boss and coworkers in the office. She cloaked her cockamamie example with meme-worthy corporate jargon. I was not a team player. I needed more passion for my work. I did not partner with my colleagues, and the kicker was that I was unprofessional. My boss had nothing besides the example about not drinking in the conference room that day. I got HR involved immediately, but I realized expending my precious energy to fight for a job I disliked with a boss I didn’t respect made no sense. I smiled, nodded, and looked for a new job with an energy I had never tapped into when looking for work. I sent my resignation letter to my boss within two weeks, and I was done. There was the compensatory “so sad to see you go” by my boss, but intuitively, I knew she was relieved to get rid of me. To be honest, I was glad to be rid of her.

There have been many times in my life where I was seen as inconvenient or an issue because I disrupted the sleepwalking homeostasis of a system with my curiosity and me-ness. I have been against graining it since day one, hour one. I remember getting into a philosophical debate with a religion teacher and going toe-to-toe with her. I was in second grade. I had a running head start at being contrarian. Most adults disliked me because I made them question their long-held beliefs and stories. A part of me wishes that my second-grade self came to work with me that day because she would have stood up for herself. I never stood up for myself at this job. I could have easily told her why I do not drink. I could have said to her that how she spoke to me about my vision quest was disrespectful. But I didn’t. I stayed silent.

It took me a solid two years to recover from that job. The company and boss I worked with after were infinitely better. Thank the goddess that the me that was ick’d by my boss for my spirituality no longer lives in the person that is writing this. She died when I decided to live in a place of remembering who I am and my values. There is this intoxicating blend of complacency, a false sense of security, and amnesia gas being pumped into our lives daily by this insane society. I have come to a place where I do my best not to breathe it in. I am not perfect at remembering, but my work is now to recognize and help others remember.

Disclaimer: In sharing these personal experiences, I consciously decided to alter specific details and omit names to protect the identities of the individuals involved. This story is rooted in my own experiences, but I believe in respecting the privacy and confidentiality of all parties. My journey's essence and core messages remain intact, aimed at inspiring reflection and understanding. Any resemblance to specific events or individuals is purely coincidental and not intended to identify or expose anyone. This narrative is shared to foster a deeper connection and insight into our shared human experiences while honoring the sanctity of individual privacy.