Webster defines “seem” as “to present the appearance of being” or “to be only in appearance but not reality”. Everything here seems, and nothing here is as it seems. The ego seems. Forgiveness seems. Even our favorite blue book seems. Remember, everything we perceive has the purpose that we give it. It neither is reality nor points to reality. It merely reflects our will.
“Seem” is the difference between freedom and prison. As we walk along our path, we often begin to recognize the illusory nature of the world, our perceptions, and even time and space. This is often useful freeing us from pain and unhappiness, and it is also often terrifying imprisoning us to a dream of attack and guilt. Like everything else in our experience, the power of decision is ours – heaven or hell, forgiveness or attack, crucifixion or redemption – and how easily we can make one seem like the other.
“Seem” is the power that turns the heavy burden of guilt into the freedom of forgiveness. “Seem” is the change of purpose that turns attack into a call for help, a call for Love. “Seem” is the reminder that truth can have no opposite - that a little bit of falsity is impossible if truth is true. “Seem” is the teacher that demonstrates that not only is the dream not what we think it is but even the motivation behind the dream is impossible. “Seem” is the peace that surrenders form to changed content. “Seem” is a door taking us beyond itself.
Spend some time with “seem” today. It will seem to take you home; it will remind you that you never left.
Showing posts with label willingness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label willingness. Show all posts
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Today We Remember
In a tiny instant of madness, terror seemed to take the place of Love. Crucifixion seemed to have meaning. Wholeness seemed but a dream.
Imprisoned by fear, we but continue to forget. That’s all.
Today We Remember.
Today we remember that Love casts out all fear. Today we remember that attack has no real effect. Today we remember the Self that seemed but a dream.
Resurrection is remembering. It is the undoing of guilt that shines away all pain, all suffering, and all terror. In an instant of decision, the memory of Love, undivided, resurrects in a mind willing and free. Resurrection is the dawning on your mind of what is already in it.
Happy Easter Everybody.
Imprisoned by fear, we but continue to forget. That’s all.
Today We Remember.
Today we remember that Love casts out all fear. Today we remember that attack has no real effect. Today we remember the Self that seemed but a dream.
Resurrection is remembering. It is the undoing of guilt that shines away all pain, all suffering, and all terror. In an instant of decision, the memory of Love, undivided, resurrects in a mind willing and free. Resurrection is the dawning on your mind of what is already in it.
Happy Easter Everybody.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Purpose of Sickness
I’ve been sick for a couple of days – congestion, aches, chills, sneezing, coughing, etc. The funny thing about physical illness is that it has a distinct way of focusing one’s will. When we’re sick, we just want to be well. At least it seems that way.
As I’m wont to do, I found myself pondering the purpose of physical illness while sipping my Theraflu and warming my soup - admittedly with a somewhat clouded brain, so bear with me.
Nothing screams “here’s the problem” like physical illness. When our heads hurt, our bodies ache, and our noses create puddles on the pillow, the problem seems apparent. Like everybody else, I sought out the normal remedies including vitamin C, rest, liquids, doctor visit, and chicken noodle soup. Today, I feel better.
So what happened? As we’ve often said, what happened depends on the purpose that I ascribe. The individualized self (ego) needs the problem (sickness) to be in the world. This serves two purposes: 1) to keep us distracted and unaware of the source of the problem 2) to create the appearance that we’ve rid ourselves of the problem. In other words, we believe the problem is here (a sick body), and we see the source outside of ourselves (a virus).
In Reality, nothing has happened, but in our insane dream of sickness, we all play our roles. Today I’m the sick one. Tomorrow, it will be you, and I’ll return to seeming “health”. The sickness isn’t gone, it has just moved. These roles demand that we recognize the sickness here and try to fix it here. Doesn’t matter if I’m the fixer or the fixee. Doesn’t matter if we utilize medicine, natural alternatives, or spirituality to minister to what ails us, the result is the same. We simply reinforce the sickness and the thought system that made it.
Health and sickness are two edges of the same sword. Our seeming desire to be well is really a veiled wish to hold on to sickness, an unconscious wish to stay asleep. We only know “health” in relation to sickness. Our idea of health depends on sickness. The pain of the illness is indicative of how badly we want the problem to be here. We will even martyr ourselves to our god of sickness to make it so.
Note: The same can be said for every other pursuit here. Whether it is a “healthy” relationship, bank account, body or planet, the dynamics are the same. The purpose is to keep us unaware of the real problem and focused where the problem is not.
But the sickness isn’t here. The sickness is the thought system that here protects. The thought system is a desert. There is no life in the desert. We can’t fix up the seeming effects of a lifeless desert and call it “health”. (For some reason, I’m reminded of lipstick and a pig.) The only hope in a desert is to leave it. Now, let me be very clear. I am not talking about leaving the world. I am talking about leaving the thought system that the world protects. The only way to do that is through the shifted purpose of forgiveness, which means a shifted purpose for the world. The only obstacle, as we’ve discussed prior, is our willingness.
So, what does that look like? Our day-to-day encounter with the desert reveals little saguaro cacti hands pointing in myriad directions at countless guilty forms. Each telling us that this is the problem and that is the solution – that is the problem and this is the solution. (Okay, maybe this metaphor is where you have to bear with me.) That’s where we get stuck (again, bear), because we don’t realize that we’ve told them where to point.
The solution is remembering that we give purpose to the little pointing saguaro cacti hands. With changed purpose, the little cacti hands of the desert all point back to me, reminding me that the problem isn’t the desert. The problem is my decision for the desert (and by the way, the desert is guilt). Even closer to the truth, the problem is my need for the desert. Only then, can I begin to recognize how badly I must want it, how willing I am to suffer for it. This is useful, because now I’m aware of the obstacle. Now, with awareness of the decision, I can make the only meaningful choice and leave the desert (undo the guilt). From ACIM T.10.IV.5:7 What you have made is so unworthy of you that you could hardly want it, if you were willing to see it as it is. Now, I see the purpose of both sickness and health. Now, healing my seemingly sick body has no meaning, because I’ve given it a new purpose – undoing instead of reinforcing, salvation instead of attack, resurrection instead of crucifixion. Yes, I still sip my Theraflu and warm my soup, but with new purpose, now they serve a different teacher.
I’ve often quipped that the sick are closer to heaven than the healthy. Obviously, this has no meaning in Reality, but the point is that the sick (again read: depressed, unhappy, ill, etc.) are typically more motivated than the “healthy”. For the sick, the pain is acute; it is right there. Motivation is high. Sometimes, the sick have that extra little willingness to consider that there might just be another way. The challenge for us seemingly healthy folks (and I am feeling much better today) is recognizing that “healthy” merely veils the sword and that the real sickness is the value we place on the difference.
T.10.IV.3:1 The Sonship cannot be perceived as partly sick, because to perceive it that way is not to perceive it at all.
As I’m wont to do, I found myself pondering the purpose of physical illness while sipping my Theraflu and warming my soup - admittedly with a somewhat clouded brain, so bear with me.
Nothing screams “here’s the problem” like physical illness. When our heads hurt, our bodies ache, and our noses create puddles on the pillow, the problem seems apparent. Like everybody else, I sought out the normal remedies including vitamin C, rest, liquids, doctor visit, and chicken noodle soup. Today, I feel better.
So what happened? As we’ve often said, what happened depends on the purpose that I ascribe. The individualized self (ego) needs the problem (sickness) to be in the world. This serves two purposes: 1) to keep us distracted and unaware of the source of the problem 2) to create the appearance that we’ve rid ourselves of the problem. In other words, we believe the problem is here (a sick body), and we see the source outside of ourselves (a virus).
In Reality, nothing has happened, but in our insane dream of sickness, we all play our roles. Today I’m the sick one. Tomorrow, it will be you, and I’ll return to seeming “health”. The sickness isn’t gone, it has just moved. These roles demand that we recognize the sickness here and try to fix it here. Doesn’t matter if I’m the fixer or the fixee. Doesn’t matter if we utilize medicine, natural alternatives, or spirituality to minister to what ails us, the result is the same. We simply reinforce the sickness and the thought system that made it.
Health and sickness are two edges of the same sword. Our seeming desire to be well is really a veiled wish to hold on to sickness, an unconscious wish to stay asleep. We only know “health” in relation to sickness. Our idea of health depends on sickness. The pain of the illness is indicative of how badly we want the problem to be here. We will even martyr ourselves to our god of sickness to make it so.
Note: The same can be said for every other pursuit here. Whether it is a “healthy” relationship, bank account, body or planet, the dynamics are the same. The purpose is to keep us unaware of the real problem and focused where the problem is not.
But the sickness isn’t here. The sickness is the thought system that here protects. The thought system is a desert. There is no life in the desert. We can’t fix up the seeming effects of a lifeless desert and call it “health”. (For some reason, I’m reminded of lipstick and a pig.) The only hope in a desert is to leave it. Now, let me be very clear. I am not talking about leaving the world. I am talking about leaving the thought system that the world protects. The only way to do that is through the shifted purpose of forgiveness, which means a shifted purpose for the world. The only obstacle, as we’ve discussed prior, is our willingness.
So, what does that look like? Our day-to-day encounter with the desert reveals little saguaro cacti hands pointing in myriad directions at countless guilty forms. Each telling us that this is the problem and that is the solution – that is the problem and this is the solution. (Okay, maybe this metaphor is where you have to bear with me.) That’s where we get stuck (again, bear), because we don’t realize that we’ve told them where to point.
The solution is remembering that we give purpose to the little pointing saguaro cacti hands. With changed purpose, the little cacti hands of the desert all point back to me, reminding me that the problem isn’t the desert. The problem is my decision for the desert (and by the way, the desert is guilt). Even closer to the truth, the problem is my need for the desert. Only then, can I begin to recognize how badly I must want it, how willing I am to suffer for it. This is useful, because now I’m aware of the obstacle. Now, with awareness of the decision, I can make the only meaningful choice and leave the desert (undo the guilt). From ACIM T.10.IV.5:7 What you have made is so unworthy of you that you could hardly want it, if you were willing to see it as it is. Now, I see the purpose of both sickness and health. Now, healing my seemingly sick body has no meaning, because I’ve given it a new purpose – undoing instead of reinforcing, salvation instead of attack, resurrection instead of crucifixion. Yes, I still sip my Theraflu and warm my soup, but with new purpose, now they serve a different teacher.
I’ve often quipped that the sick are closer to heaven than the healthy. Obviously, this has no meaning in Reality, but the point is that the sick (again read: depressed, unhappy, ill, etc.) are typically more motivated than the “healthy”. For the sick, the pain is acute; it is right there. Motivation is high. Sometimes, the sick have that extra little willingness to consider that there might just be another way. The challenge for us seemingly healthy folks (and I am feeling much better today) is recognizing that “healthy” merely veils the sword and that the real sickness is the value we place on the difference.
T.10.IV.3:1 The Sonship cannot be perceived as partly sick, because to perceive it that way is not to perceive it at all.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
The Problem with Teachers
We are all teaching – all of the time. Every minute of every hour of every day, we are teaching ourselves who we are. We are teaching ourselves that separation is real and wholeness is not, or we are teaching ourselves that Love is real and specialness is merely a crazy dream. The problem with teachers is that sometimes we forget.
Sometimes we get so caught up in the drama of our daily lives or the roles that we play, that we forget what is really going on here. Sometimes we think we’re teaching history or algebra. Sometimes we think we’re teaching joy or love. Sometimes we even think we are teaching A Course in Miracles! Oh certainly, in form we are teaching these things, but underneath, we are reinforcing a decision, the decision of identity. (And don’t be fooled into thinking that the one teaching history is doing anything different from the one teaching the blue book. They have the same purpose in the crazy dream, and they have the same purpose when released from the crazy dream.)
We teach what we most need to learn. The problem is that so often we are mistaken about what we are actually teaching - especially those of us who seem to be teaching spirituality and love. We teach what we most need to learn, because teaching and learning are the same. If Love is wholeness and oneness is our reality, we are both the teacher and the learner. Yes, it seems different in form. As is always the case, “seems” is the operative word. We are indeed but teaching ourselves.
Now, in the practical world of form, teaching and learning have some pitfalls, as one of my favorite and funky teachers recently pointed out. Here, in the world, these concepts seem like opposites. They seem like opposites, because here depends on opposites – or at least some fairly significant shades of gray. What we must remember, is that we make the decision for these differences. We always set the curriculum first, and then we use the world to prove our case believing that it is the world that is showing us what it is rather than us telling the world what it is. The form may indeed seem funky, but we choose what it means. We always choose the content.
If we believe we can teach something other than Love (and we all do), then we must believe that there is something other than Love. With that firmly established in our mind, we find opportunities that prove that we are great teachers of truth and light from time to time, and then we find equal opportunities that teach us that we have failed. We look upon a world that doesn’t “get it” and wish that it did, or we feel the guilt of our own failed lessons. Neither suits you, teacher. Let go of the judgment that creates the sense of obligation to do or say the “right” thing. We don’t know what love looks like. How could we with eyes that were made to stop at form? Teachers trust. Teachers recognize that removing the log of judgment from our own eyes is all that is required. There is no pressure to say or do the right thing. That vanishes in an instant of will when we recognize where the problem is and where it isn’t.
Teaching Love really means undoing (forgiving) all of the obstacles (guilt) that we have erected to keep Love away. Teaching Love means demonstrating that we are the same. We are the same in the insanity that imagines that teachers have something that students lack, and we are the same in the solution that reminds that teachers and students are one in purpose. Forgiveness is the process that undoes the former and makes way for the latter. So, thank you for being my teacher. Thank you for being my student. And thank you for forgiving me the judgment that would have them be different.
Sometimes we get so caught up in the drama of our daily lives or the roles that we play, that we forget what is really going on here. Sometimes we think we’re teaching history or algebra. Sometimes we think we’re teaching joy or love. Sometimes we even think we are teaching A Course in Miracles! Oh certainly, in form we are teaching these things, but underneath, we are reinforcing a decision, the decision of identity. (And don’t be fooled into thinking that the one teaching history is doing anything different from the one teaching the blue book. They have the same purpose in the crazy dream, and they have the same purpose when released from the crazy dream.)
We teach what we most need to learn. The problem is that so often we are mistaken about what we are actually teaching - especially those of us who seem to be teaching spirituality and love. We teach what we most need to learn, because teaching and learning are the same. If Love is wholeness and oneness is our reality, we are both the teacher and the learner. Yes, it seems different in form. As is always the case, “seems” is the operative word. We are indeed but teaching ourselves.
Now, in the practical world of form, teaching and learning have some pitfalls, as one of my favorite and funky teachers recently pointed out. Here, in the world, these concepts seem like opposites. They seem like opposites, because here depends on opposites – or at least some fairly significant shades of gray. What we must remember, is that we make the decision for these differences. We always set the curriculum first, and then we use the world to prove our case believing that it is the world that is showing us what it is rather than us telling the world what it is. The form may indeed seem funky, but we choose what it means. We always choose the content.
If we believe we can teach something other than Love (and we all do), then we must believe that there is something other than Love. With that firmly established in our mind, we find opportunities that prove that we are great teachers of truth and light from time to time, and then we find equal opportunities that teach us that we have failed. We look upon a world that doesn’t “get it” and wish that it did, or we feel the guilt of our own failed lessons. Neither suits you, teacher. Let go of the judgment that creates the sense of obligation to do or say the “right” thing. We don’t know what love looks like. How could we with eyes that were made to stop at form? Teachers trust. Teachers recognize that removing the log of judgment from our own eyes is all that is required. There is no pressure to say or do the right thing. That vanishes in an instant of will when we recognize where the problem is and where it isn’t.
Teaching Love really means undoing (forgiving) all of the obstacles (guilt) that we have erected to keep Love away. Teaching Love means demonstrating that we are the same. We are the same in the insanity that imagines that teachers have something that students lack, and we are the same in the solution that reminds that teachers and students are one in purpose. Forgiveness is the process that undoes the former and makes way for the latter. So, thank you for being my teacher. Thank you for being my student. And thank you for forgiving me the judgment that would have them be different.
Friday, January 23, 2009
An Extra Point for Missouri
The Course speaks of our “little willingness” as the one requirement for peace of mind. As we have all experienced, “little” isn’t always so little. On the heels of yesterday’s post, I was reminded of a great little story about an Indian mystic and his approach to the subject.
How willing are you?
One morning a frustrated student approached his teacher, “You’ve said that my willingness was the only obstacle between me and enlightenment. Teacher, I’m willing, yet I don’t feel enlightened. How willing must I be?” The master simply requested that the student meet him at the river the following morning. Nothing else was said. The student, of course, had no idea what was to come, but he expected some sort of advanced dunking, washing, or maybe a bath. He’d always heard that cleanliness was next to godliness.
The next morning, without a word, the master motioned the student into the river. Placing his hands upon his head, he slowly guided the student under the calm waters. Fifteen seconds passed, and the master held firm. The student’s mind was filled with questions. What the heck was this all about? Why am I in the river? Why did I have to get up so early? Thirty seconds passed. The student began to wonder what the point was. He tried to remain calm and open to the experience, but he wanted a breath. He searched his oxygen-deprived brain for meaning.
After a minute, the student began to struggle violently for the surface. The master held firm, forcing the student deeper into the river’s lesson. At this point, the student began to panic. He could think of nothing but getting his next gasp of air. His mind became solely focused. The master let go. Upon surfacing, the student heard the master’s voice, “That willing.”
You will remember everything the instant you desire it wholly... (T.10.I.4:1)
How willing are you?
One morning a frustrated student approached his teacher, “You’ve said that my willingness was the only obstacle between me and enlightenment. Teacher, I’m willing, yet I don’t feel enlightened. How willing must I be?” The master simply requested that the student meet him at the river the following morning. Nothing else was said. The student, of course, had no idea what was to come, but he expected some sort of advanced dunking, washing, or maybe a bath. He’d always heard that cleanliness was next to godliness.
The next morning, without a word, the master motioned the student into the river. Placing his hands upon his head, he slowly guided the student under the calm waters. Fifteen seconds passed, and the master held firm. The student’s mind was filled with questions. What the heck was this all about? Why am I in the river? Why did I have to get up so early? Thirty seconds passed. The student began to wonder what the point was. He tried to remain calm and open to the experience, but he wanted a breath. He searched his oxygen-deprived brain for meaning.
After a minute, the student began to struggle violently for the surface. The master held firm, forcing the student deeper into the river’s lesson. At this point, the student began to panic. He could think of nothing but getting his next gasp of air. His mind became solely focused. The master let go. Upon surfacing, the student heard the master’s voice, “That willing.”
You will remember everything the instant you desire it wholly... (T.10.I.4:1)
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Problem with Missouri
“I’m Missouri”, exclaimed one of my favorite teachers, “I’m Missouri”! I knew what he meant. I grew up in the Midwest, and the “show me” state was an old friend of mine. What my friend was saying was, “When will I get it?” Show me. That’s a question we all ask at some point on our journey. In my experience, it usually slips out right before a significant shift, so let’s share my friend’s epiphany.
The problem with Missouri is the definition of “me”. Same for the rest of us. My friend did what we all do when we read A Course in Miracles or embark on any spiritual path. In the beginning, we think the “you” on the journey is the one we see in the mirror every day, the body. The body, which includes the brain, will never “get it”. It can’t. The body is a defense against getting it, because the body’s purpose is to continually reinforce that it is you – over and over and over and over – every second of every minute of every day. This hamster wheel of insanity is the foundation of the ego’s thought system, the thought system of differences, separation, and pain.
The ego can’t ask a meaningful question. The question, “When will I get it?”, isn’t a question at all but rather a statement in the form of a question. The statement is that this is me, separate and distinct, and I don’t get it. Neither is true. Both seem to be true. But neither is true.
We can’t understand the content of A Course in Miracles or any other path to Love from within the dream meant to keep it out. Einstein observed that the significant problems we have cannot be solved at the same level of thinking with which we created them. In this context, I can’t “get it” from here. My friend asked if I got it or if Wapnick got it. “Show me!”, he said. I reminded him that no body gets it. Bodies don’t “get”. Bodies don’t understand. Bodies do what they are told.
The Manual for Teachers (one of three sections in ACIM) asks, “How many teachers of God are needed to save the world?” The answer is one. Getting it means that we identify with the one dreamer of the dream and not one of billions and billions of figures (bodies) within the dream. Getting it means that we recognize that Wapnick getting it and my friend not getting doesn’t make any sense. How could wholeness not include both?
“So when will I get it?” An excellent question, because the answer leads us ever closer to home. I will get it when I am willing to give up my definition of me. I will get it when I am willing to let go of my purpose for the world. I will get it when I no longer wish to sleep. And all that is required is my will.
What do you want?
The problem with Missouri is the definition of “me”. Same for the rest of us. My friend did what we all do when we read A Course in Miracles or embark on any spiritual path. In the beginning, we think the “you” on the journey is the one we see in the mirror every day, the body. The body, which includes the brain, will never “get it”. It can’t. The body is a defense against getting it, because the body’s purpose is to continually reinforce that it is you – over and over and over and over – every second of every minute of every day. This hamster wheel of insanity is the foundation of the ego’s thought system, the thought system of differences, separation, and pain.
The ego can’t ask a meaningful question. The question, “When will I get it?”, isn’t a question at all but rather a statement in the form of a question. The statement is that this is me, separate and distinct, and I don’t get it. Neither is true. Both seem to be true. But neither is true.
We can’t understand the content of A Course in Miracles or any other path to Love from within the dream meant to keep it out. Einstein observed that the significant problems we have cannot be solved at the same level of thinking with which we created them. In this context, I can’t “get it” from here. My friend asked if I got it or if Wapnick got it. “Show me!”, he said. I reminded him that no body gets it. Bodies don’t “get”. Bodies don’t understand. Bodies do what they are told.
The Manual for Teachers (one of three sections in ACIM) asks, “How many teachers of God are needed to save the world?” The answer is one. Getting it means that we identify with the one dreamer of the dream and not one of billions and billions of figures (bodies) within the dream. Getting it means that we recognize that Wapnick getting it and my friend not getting doesn’t make any sense. How could wholeness not include both?
“So when will I get it?” An excellent question, because the answer leads us ever closer to home. I will get it when I am willing to give up my definition of me. I will get it when I am willing to let go of my purpose for the world. I will get it when I no longer wish to sleep. And all that is required is my will.
What do you want?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
