Let this pass from me. Let it pass to my understanding that it never was. If it never was, it must have passed as it appeared, yet never appeared. How did the impossible happen? Well, it never happened.
Even this tiny sliver of the Whole, this “I”, yes I am loved as the Son, as I would love a cell from my body that suddenly gained conscious awareness and declared it was the whole body.
We are not meant to be separated, and so we in truth are not. We will not be absorbed into a vast gestalt. No, we already are Who and What we are.
What we call our individuality is just what we thought we stole from Heaven. We have but to give it back. I begin by telling myself not to fear my own mind.
The moment we say we have only to give back what we thought we stole, and the moment we see that we never left Heaven, are the same moment. Nothing has changed, nor could it. And so, I would let this pass.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Moving Hand
What is God? I ask myself this question, then I sense a deeper question: Why do I not know what God is? This is my real question, my true prayer. I should know my own Creator...I should not be apart from my Creator...I did not create myself.
Asking such questions is a sign that we are split off from our Creator, each other, and ourselves. But these questions are designed to distract us from knowing that we are not apart from God. We seek, but we are terrified to find.
It accomplishes nothing to ask a question but not desire the answer or accept it when it comes. Asking what is God keeps me here. The question comes not from idle curiosity, but from fear. An entire world and universe sprang up before our sight because we were afraid and forgot to remember that we are God's Holy Son.
Place your hand on the table. Let it be still. Now declare: "I will move my hand." As you make that declaration, hold your hand still. "I will move my hand now. It is fully functional, and capable of movement, so I will now move my hand"...All the while keep your hand still. You do not really want to move your hand, so you hold it there even as you demand that it move.
This is what we do when we ask a question but refuse the answer. We do not want to know.
We are not little creatures, we are aspects of our Self. Our Self is not some nebulous unknown into which we move, to ultimately lose ourselves. That is the illusion, that is what keeps us here. We really believe we did some terrible harm to our Home; we really believe we offended, even enraged, our Creator. All the while we remain Home. Our return to the place we never left has been accomplished. We already are what we seek. Being chased out of the Garden was a dream, a mistake on our part. The mistake was instantly corrected. It will not repeat because it never took place.
I must look at my fear, because if it is buried, I cannot heal the illusion. I must look directly at the illusion so I can see it for what it is. And so moves the hand.
Asking such questions is a sign that we are split off from our Creator, each other, and ourselves. But these questions are designed to distract us from knowing that we are not apart from God. We seek, but we are terrified to find.
It accomplishes nothing to ask a question but not desire the answer or accept it when it comes. Asking what is God keeps me here. The question comes not from idle curiosity, but from fear. An entire world and universe sprang up before our sight because we were afraid and forgot to remember that we are God's Holy Son.
Place your hand on the table. Let it be still. Now declare: "I will move my hand." As you make that declaration, hold your hand still. "I will move my hand now. It is fully functional, and capable of movement, so I will now move my hand"...All the while keep your hand still. You do not really want to move your hand, so you hold it there even as you demand that it move.
This is what we do when we ask a question but refuse the answer. We do not want to know.
We are not little creatures, we are aspects of our Self. Our Self is not some nebulous unknown into which we move, to ultimately lose ourselves. That is the illusion, that is what keeps us here. We really believe we did some terrible harm to our Home; we really believe we offended, even enraged, our Creator. All the while we remain Home. Our return to the place we never left has been accomplished. We already are what we seek. Being chased out of the Garden was a dream, a mistake on our part. The mistake was instantly corrected. It will not repeat because it never took place.
I must look at my fear, because if it is buried, I cannot heal the illusion. I must look directly at the illusion so I can see it for what it is. And so moves the hand.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Sing
We are afraid of being one. We think we are separated, individual, unique, special. Not only do we think it, we demand it. We fear being absorbed into some strange, vague, impersonal "oneness". But if it is true that "we" are one unlimited Self, it follows that we already are that Self; we are not becoming one, we are one.
The part of us that thinks it is separate is simply afraid. It thinks it must hide from its creator. The world we see sprang into awareness (perception) in reaction to our mistaken thought that we were suddenly apart from God.
We have become expert at claiming spirituality while at once clinging to our special individuality. We might believe God is all there is, but still demand the equation, "God plus me." And I am no different. Ego still tries to rule in me. It is just that I sense something else, another self.
I hear another song beneath what the ego is singing. This is because the ego is not singing: the ego does not exist. And yet, it is part of our mind, because we made the ego. But so powerful, so creative is mind, so powerful is belief, the ego appears very real to us. It demands, it attacks. Its question is not "What am I?", but "What are you?" Thus, our mind is split.
By and large, the world is afraid of exploring mind. Whole religions teach their followers not to go within: "Devils live there." We did not actually forget that we are mind (that we are spirit); we only dreamed it so. When I go into my mind, I know that if I come across something that frightens, I made that something. It is not something apart from me, over which I have no control or defense. I know my beliefs, emotions, expectations, come together to form my experience.
One night a woman had a nightmare. She was in a strange house. It was dark. She was being pursued by a monstrous demon. After being chased and nearly cornered several times, the demon's hot breath scorching the back of her neck, the exhausted, terrified woman at last could run no longer. As the hideous thing lurched up, nearly touching her, she screamed: "Who are you! Why are you chasing me! What do you want!" At that, the demon stopped, put its hands in the air, shrugged its shoulders, and replied softly, "I don't know, lady. It's your dream."
An old tale, not original with me. But it speaks to our forgetting that we are doing this. This is our dream. Thus, it is our song to sing. We did not write the song anymore than we created ourselves. We have a Creator, but we seem to not know "Him". We seem to be hiding. I no longer wish to hide. Sing we all the song.
The part of us that thinks it is separate is simply afraid. It thinks it must hide from its creator. The world we see sprang into awareness (perception) in reaction to our mistaken thought that we were suddenly apart from God.
We have become expert at claiming spirituality while at once clinging to our special individuality. We might believe God is all there is, but still demand the equation, "God plus me." And I am no different. Ego still tries to rule in me. It is just that I sense something else, another self.
I hear another song beneath what the ego is singing. This is because the ego is not singing: the ego does not exist. And yet, it is part of our mind, because we made the ego. But so powerful, so creative is mind, so powerful is belief, the ego appears very real to us. It demands, it attacks. Its question is not "What am I?", but "What are you?" Thus, our mind is split.
By and large, the world is afraid of exploring mind. Whole religions teach their followers not to go within: "Devils live there." We did not actually forget that we are mind (that we are spirit); we only dreamed it so. When I go into my mind, I know that if I come across something that frightens, I made that something. It is not something apart from me, over which I have no control or defense. I know my beliefs, emotions, expectations, come together to form my experience.
One night a woman had a nightmare. She was in a strange house. It was dark. She was being pursued by a monstrous demon. After being chased and nearly cornered several times, the demon's hot breath scorching the back of her neck, the exhausted, terrified woman at last could run no longer. As the hideous thing lurched up, nearly touching her, she screamed: "Who are you! Why are you chasing me! What do you want!" At that, the demon stopped, put its hands in the air, shrugged its shoulders, and replied softly, "I don't know, lady. It's your dream."
An old tale, not original with me. But it speaks to our forgetting that we are doing this. This is our dream. Thus, it is our song to sing. We did not write the song anymore than we created ourselves. We have a Creator, but we seem to not know "Him". We seem to be hiding. I no longer wish to hide. Sing we all the song.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Where is Outside?
We think we are looking at something outside us. "Outside" is meaningless, an invention we made to hide from what we really are. It feels as if we are inside what we call "bodies". That is why it seems there is an outside. Everything we see is images we made. This includes the body. It is an image too, but we tend to overlook that. This is an ego-trick. The ego wants desperately to keep what it thinks it has. Without the body, we are free.
In truth, we are free anyway. The body makes us certain that we are bound to limits. The body cannot contain us. If it can keep us convinced of an outside world, the ego can hold us hostage. Sometimes I can see my ego objectively, as if it were across the room. The ego is a thought of separation, and the body is the symbol of separation.
Certainly, there is no separation. Separation is not our nature. What is not our nature cannot exist, yet we are clearly capable of great imaginings. But perception is perception, as a child with imaginary friends. But creation is eternal. Creation is one. "What is one cannot have separate parts." --A Course In Miracles.
We have convinced ourselves that we do not know what "God" is. We do know. We are not separate from God. There is no line, no division, between us and God. This little body, its little fingers tapping away--it knows nothing. Nor does the self that thinks it is inside this body. So what is it that comes out here? It must be that everything I see, including the body, is in my mind. This means I am responsible for everything I see. Thus, it must be that I (we) never left Home (God).
Nor could we ever leave. "God Wills you be in Heaven..." --ACIM.
In truth, we are free anyway. The body makes us certain that we are bound to limits. The body cannot contain us. If it can keep us convinced of an outside world, the ego can hold us hostage. Sometimes I can see my ego objectively, as if it were across the room. The ego is a thought of separation, and the body is the symbol of separation.
Certainly, there is no separation. Separation is not our nature. What is not our nature cannot exist, yet we are clearly capable of great imaginings. But perception is perception, as a child with imaginary friends. But creation is eternal. Creation is one. "What is one cannot have separate parts." --A Course In Miracles.
We have convinced ourselves that we do not know what "God" is. We do know. We are not separate from God. There is no line, no division, between us and God. This little body, its little fingers tapping away--it knows nothing. Nor does the self that thinks it is inside this body. So what is it that comes out here? It must be that everything I see, including the body, is in my mind. This means I am responsible for everything I see. Thus, it must be that I (we) never left Home (God).
Nor could we ever leave. "God Wills you be in Heaven..." --ACIM.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
A Profound Silence
I hear a voice that does not speak. I hear it perfectly, and I understand its wordless message. I am not separate from it, only thought I was. But that thought, being of mind, had all the power of mind, though its effects were unreal. The voice I hear tells me I but dream, and my dream is very real to me. I believe in the dream more than in the voice. In the belief lies the power of mind.
I trust the voice that does not speak, as my belief in the dream lessens. It was the valley of death, and I walked through it for an instant and saw that I’d been home all along. It is not my Creator’s Will that I be anywhere but home. My Creator’s Will is my will. I will the end of dreams.
There is nowhere but home. The sky is never dark, nothing whithers to die. There are no opposites, no gradations. Here my joy is true, for I see all it means, all it is, and that forever.
A profound silence fills and defines and is, everything. The nightmares, their terror, all nothing. Shadows. It seemed so real, but all along that tiny moment of fear, the voice remained: “Look. I am with you always.” Dreams are dreams, but home is real.
I did not scar the walls of heaven, only dreamed it so. How does perfect love allow something unlike itself? Here at home the sky is never angry. Everything is everything. Infinite creation abides. I need not hide myself. I am one with my Self.
The shadows I made are mine. They cannot harm me. I thought they could, but I was mistaken in my fear. I will not fear, for You are with me. Here in the silence, in this perfect rest, this infinite peace…there are no shadows. Amen.
I trust the voice that does not speak, as my belief in the dream lessens. It was the valley of death, and I walked through it for an instant and saw that I’d been home all along. It is not my Creator’s Will that I be anywhere but home. My Creator’s Will is my will. I will the end of dreams.
There is nowhere but home. The sky is never dark, nothing whithers to die. There are no opposites, no gradations. Here my joy is true, for I see all it means, all it is, and that forever.
A profound silence fills and defines and is, everything. The nightmares, their terror, all nothing. Shadows. It seemed so real, but all along that tiny moment of fear, the voice remained: “Look. I am with you always.” Dreams are dreams, but home is real.
I did not scar the walls of heaven, only dreamed it so. How does perfect love allow something unlike itself? Here at home the sky is never angry. Everything is everything. Infinite creation abides. I need not hide myself. I am one with my Self.
The shadows I made are mine. They cannot harm me. I thought they could, but I was mistaken in my fear. I will not fear, for You are with me. Here in the silence, in this perfect rest, this infinite peace…there are no shadows. Amen.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Home All Along
How far do I want to go? I tell myself I want to wake and see that I was always home. Yet I persist in this dream of separation. A Course In Miracles tells me I do not know the thing that I am. It also tells me the world is over. It was over in the same instant it seemed to appear in the mind of God's Son. We are God's Son.
I think I am this small creature living a small life, a tiny march of days toward a frightening mystery called death. I sense the other self that ACIM tells me about ("Myself is nothing, but my Self is everything.") The truth is, I (we) did awake. Here is a tiny portion of mind that stubbornly holds on to a non-event, a tiny stab of fear. We think we harmed Heaven, our home. We think we betrayed our Creator. We are afraid of turning back. Thus, we have legends of an angry God punishing His sinful creation.
That must be why I claim to want to wake, but seem to remain "here".
The world is our hiding place. We made it to hide from God.
We each see our own version of the world. As one, we agree to its basic dimensions, and rules, like gravity. We forgot we made the world, and so deep is our forgetting that anyone who dares to declare otherwise is seen as crazy.
I want to know what I really am. I want to go beyond theory. The world I made is not my home. I (we) never left home, nor could we. We are deeply confused. But confusion, which is a form of fear, a turning away from love, is unreal. Only the real exists.
I awoke long ago, and I'd been home all along.
I think I am this small creature living a small life, a tiny march of days toward a frightening mystery called death. I sense the other self that ACIM tells me about ("Myself is nothing, but my Self is everything.") The truth is, I (we) did awake. Here is a tiny portion of mind that stubbornly holds on to a non-event, a tiny stab of fear. We think we harmed Heaven, our home. We think we betrayed our Creator. We are afraid of turning back. Thus, we have legends of an angry God punishing His sinful creation.
That must be why I claim to want to wake, but seem to remain "here".
The world is our hiding place. We made it to hide from God.
We each see our own version of the world. As one, we agree to its basic dimensions, and rules, like gravity. We forgot we made the world, and so deep is our forgetting that anyone who dares to declare otherwise is seen as crazy.
I want to know what I really am. I want to go beyond theory. The world I made is not my home. I (we) never left home, nor could we. We are deeply confused. But confusion, which is a form of fear, a turning away from love, is unreal. Only the real exists.
I awoke long ago, and I'd been home all along.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Deepest Heart
I made (or make) the world that I see. It is my version of the greater world. Thus, I am responsible for what I see. I think I understand what that means, yet I must remind myself that it is so. I forget. I get caught up in the (my) perception of an outside world coming at me. But the world I see is not coming at me, it is coming from me.
The world I see is neutral, but the thoughts that form it are not neutral. Mind is very powerful, and never stops. I want very much to go beyond these writings, the text of my deepest heart. I want to awaken, and see that I was always home. When I say that, it reminds me that I did awaken. The world that I still react to as if it is outside me is over. It is over because it never was.
This "I" thinks it is autonomous. It thinks it is separate from "you". It thinks there is a world outside. Not only does it think these things, it demands these things are so. It defends these beliefs with a great ferocity. It keeps the world before me, blinding me to my own reality. At the same time, it prevents me from recalling, realizing, that I am responsible for it. This "I" is the self I made. It does not exist.
But then, what does exist? I sense another self, even now, in this false present. It exists. It is not apart, it is not separate, it is not another self. It just feels that way, because I have been so convinced that I am an individual being, living among other beings, that I forgot how to recognize my Self. "Myself is nothing, but my Self is everything." --A Course In Miracles."
I am learning, when I speak about myself, to picture everything, every rock, every flower, every slap, every caress, as included in this "I". In other words, I am learning that everything I see (including what I think I cannot see), is me. Yes, even the "bad" things. This exercise helps me to forgive the world I see. I imagine this "I" as a radio tower, broadcasting its signal to all the earth, and "out" to the universe. But I must keep in mind that I am forming the earth and universe; not that it all exists on its own, and I move into it. I am making it.
But I must accept that I want the world I see. I believe this is what ACIM means when it says that we must hide nothing from the Holy Spirit. I see a world because I want a world. I want to hide. I am afraid. I am convinced of my unworthiness. I am a sinner, a murderer, a cheater of a divine love that I fear is a damning love. And yet, I still want it.
This is the hell we know. It is all we know. We catch glimpses, flashes of light, but the world is given precedence because it is so loud, so garish in its seeming assault on our senses. But all the while, One goes with us. That One is us.
The world I see is neutral, but the thoughts that form it are not neutral. Mind is very powerful, and never stops. I want very much to go beyond these writings, the text of my deepest heart. I want to awaken, and see that I was always home. When I say that, it reminds me that I did awaken. The world that I still react to as if it is outside me is over. It is over because it never was.
This "I" thinks it is autonomous. It thinks it is separate from "you". It thinks there is a world outside. Not only does it think these things, it demands these things are so. It defends these beliefs with a great ferocity. It keeps the world before me, blinding me to my own reality. At the same time, it prevents me from recalling, realizing, that I am responsible for it. This "I" is the self I made. It does not exist.
But then, what does exist? I sense another self, even now, in this false present. It exists. It is not apart, it is not separate, it is not another self. It just feels that way, because I have been so convinced that I am an individual being, living among other beings, that I forgot how to recognize my Self. "Myself is nothing, but my Self is everything." --A Course In Miracles."
I am learning, when I speak about myself, to picture everything, every rock, every flower, every slap, every caress, as included in this "I". In other words, I am learning that everything I see (including what I think I cannot see), is me. Yes, even the "bad" things. This exercise helps me to forgive the world I see. I imagine this "I" as a radio tower, broadcasting its signal to all the earth, and "out" to the universe. But I must keep in mind that I am forming the earth and universe; not that it all exists on its own, and I move into it. I am making it.
But I must accept that I want the world I see. I believe this is what ACIM means when it says that we must hide nothing from the Holy Spirit. I see a world because I want a world. I want to hide. I am afraid. I am convinced of my unworthiness. I am a sinner, a murderer, a cheater of a divine love that I fear is a damning love. And yet, I still want it.
This is the hell we know. It is all we know. We catch glimpses, flashes of light, but the world is given precedence because it is so loud, so garish in its seeming assault on our senses. But all the while, One goes with us. That One is us.
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