The other day, I was talking with a patient about his love of the Disney theme parks, and as we talked, it became clear the parks were a sort of pilgrimage to him.

There were holy rituals:
I have to walk through the shops along Main Street on the way in and the way out even though I almost never buy anything…
I take a break midday and ride around on the People-Mover every time I go…

There were sacred songs:
Sure, everyone knows “It’s a Small World,” but we always have to sing along on the Carousel of Progress too…
Oh, I have the whole Haunted Mansion ride song memorized— narration and all…

And, obviously, there were sacramental meals:
I know it’s like the least interesting dessert there, but I always have to eat a Mickey ice cream. It’s tradition...
It’s not really a trip to Disney if I don’t have a hotdog from Casey’s...

Aside from these physical practices, the conversation made clear to me certain “Disney virtues” he followed as well. Walt Disney prized progress and innovation and acceptance and family and love and leisure, and all of these themes are baked into the Disney parks. Even the lines to get onto the rides are designed with entertainment in mind. And since there can’t really be happiness at the “Happiest Place on Earth” without acceptance, the parks are designed to be a discrimination-free environment. No Disney cast member will say a negative word to you— even when enforcing rules—, and I wonder if that unconditional positive regard is one of the things that keeps people coming back.

All this points to a bigger issue for me: What if “secular” isn’t really a thing? If something as “secular” as Disney can have deep spirituality to it, is anything truly secular? It seems like, if we’re willing to look a little deeper, everything in our lives can have a rich spirituality. It’s all about training ourselves to see the world with open and affirming eyes.

I facilitate spirituality groups for some of our patients, and one of my favorite tricks is to ask the group, “What’s your favorite meal?” Once we’ve listed a few, I’ll ask a willing volunteer a few questions about that meal: Who do you usually eat it with? Does the meal mark a special occasion? Who usually makes the meal, and what about their technique makes it special? What kind of memories do you have attached to the meal? Invariably, this line of questioning leads us to one conclusion: the meal is sacred.

One of the most amazing things about humanity is our ability to see the sacredness in anything if we’re willing to look closely enough. More and more, I wonder if labelling anything “secular” is just a failure of imagination.

Stay open to the sacred this week.