Beyond the Metaphor to Home

At some point, as serious students of A Course in Miracles, we need to understand that the Holy Spirit is simply a metaphor for right choosing – or the action of our right mind – which we could also call right perception – and that although the rightness is real, the Holy Spirit is itself a symbol. “I” am not possessed – gently or otherwise – by a foreign agent created by God to be my guide from madness to reason.

When we imagine that Jesus or the Holy Spirit are separate agents – somehow removed from us in time and space – we slip into a well-intentioned but ultimately fruitless dualism. This is an evasion of our responsibility and our potential for inner peace. We need to see beyond the metaphor to the reality at which it points. We don’t want to confuse a map of the way home for home.

When A Course in Miracles advises us to let the Holy Spirit choose for us which path to take in any and all situations, it is really making a statement about the fundamental equality of all paths, and the futility of judgment.

Even simpler, ACIM is saying to us:

1. Your familiar way of thinking, feeling, reacting and deciding doesn’t work;

2. There is a better way;

3. You already know the better way;

4. Chill out – breathe – and let the better way reveal itself.

Say to the Holy Spirit only, “Decide for me,” and it is done. For His decisions are reflections of what God knows about you, and in this light, error of any kind becomes impossible. Why would you struggle so frantically to anticipate all you cannot know, when all knowledge lies behind every decision the Holy Spirit makes for you? Learn of His wisdom and His Love, and teach His answer to everyone who struggles in the dark (T-14.III.16:1-4).

If we read that passage closely we see that when we relinquish the power of decision, then what happens becomes a reflection of God’s knowledge and “error of any kind becomes impossible.” We are liberated from consequence, and our liberation is shared – it touches all our brothers and sisters.

A Course in Miracles gently insists that the other way is already here, right now. And so we stop looking for alternatives and rest quietly in the sureness that God’s gift will reveal itself in Creation. It’s not a question of finding what’s lost but rather seeing what is.

This experience is simply the decision to access the part our mind that is “part of the Christ Mind” (C-6.4:1). It is not separate from us in any way. It is not a mystery to solved, a ritual to be perfected or secret to be divined. It is inherent in us; it is us. That is why A Course in Miracles teaches us that we are the Holy Spirit’s “manifestation in this world” (C-6.5:1). We are the Holy Spirit and we know the Peace of God when we choose to let go of the ego’s habit of judgment which always serves only its own imagined needs and wants.

But how do we do this?

First, we have to see that at the most basic and simple level we are not joyful with the ego’s machinations. Our lives are not working.

Thus – second – we calmly and patiently give attention to what the ego is and how it works. We observe our habit of selfishness and aggression and so forth. In doing so, sooner or later, we begin to see how shallow and rootless what we call the ego – what we call the self – actually is.

When we have accepted our misery and looked at its perceived cause (the ego and its decisions), then we naturally enter the Thetfordian space: we see and declare and accept that there must be another way. And so our attention shifts: we begin to give attention to this other way. The ego says we are meant to seek for it and gladly encourages us to become spiritual searchers. The ego loves a project! But A Course in Miracles (or another spiritual path or practice) gently insists that the other way is already given. It is already here, right now. And so we stop looking and rest quietly in the sureness that God’s gift will reveal itself in Creation. It’s not a question of finding what’s lost but rather seeing what is.

Sometimes when I write or talk this way – the Holy Spirit and Jesus are just metaphors – people get upset and defensive. It’s okay. I am merely witnessing to what works for me – to what has been helpful for me. It may or may not be helpful for you, and you should not be shy about either questioning me or simply moving on.

It is always the ego who insists there is a right way and a wrong way and refuses  to abide by those who choose against what it considers right. But the Holy Spirit only sees a multitude of equal ways because all of them lead in the end to the knowledge that we are already home in God, in what is. No journey was needed because no home was ever left.

We are called simply to allow Truth to be true. We are called to gently witness unto reality, understanding that awareness is reality’s only condition. We are called to embrace the equality of all our brothers and sisters, from bluets to squirrels to people, past, present and future. It is all there, all given, and the Holy Spirit knows this because we know it and because we and the Holy Spirit are simply this knowing, briefly manifest in bodies, briefly manifest in ideas.

Miracles are Effects, Not Causes

A miracle, as that word is brought to application by A Course in Miracles, is not a cause of anything but rather an effect. It is an effect of a decision to give attention to the present moment without bringing either the past or the future into it. The miracle denies nothing and accepts the wholeness of whatever arises. Thus peace, thus joy.

Each day, each hour and minute, even each second, you are deciding between the crucifixion and the resurrection; between the ego and the Holy Spirit (T-14.III.4:1).

We are given the power to choose between peace and conflict, which decision is internal and altogether unrelated to what is external. What is external has nothing to do with anything; it is merely a canvas on which our thoughts leave faint trails of either joy or sorrow, according to our internal decision. The external is the trail of wind across the lake, faint ripples bearing witness to the greater passage. The miracle serves us by witnessing unto how we have exercised our capacity for decision in favor of love.

The miracle teaches you that you have chosen guiltlessness, freedom and joy. It is not a cause, but an effect. It is the natural result of choosing right, attesting to your happiness that comes from choosing to be free of guilt (T-14.III.5:1-3).

“Choosing right” in this instance relates only to what is going on inside of us – at the level of thought, and the levels that are beyond thought. “Levels” is a misleading term, because it suggests both a physical space (in “here” and out “there) and a linear progression from conflict to peace. But if we give attention to thought, we will see that there is a great deal beyond the egoic chatter that seems to define and contain and restrict us. And that “beyondness” – somewhat like descriptions of the material universe – is forever expanding. Its limits are literally incomprehensible. We cannot reach the end of what is within.

“Thought” in this case does not mean ideas or what can be rendered in language: that is the surface, that is the shallows. We can’t think our way to what A Course in Miracles calls the thoughts we think with God (W-pI.51.4:4). As Tara Singh pointed out in Nothing Real Can Be Threatened, God’s love is “a state superior to thought.”

There is no peace or love at the thought level. Thought merely projects the outer world of unreality and lives in that abstraction (164).

Nor is this a new idea limited to ACIM. Consider, for example, William Samuels.

In its most intellectual presentations, metaphysics merely states the impossibility of an actual fallen state; but, alas, it still leaves us attempting to play the part of a self-righteous pseudo-identity healing a personal view of the universe, calling everything seen “via the senses” a dream “that isn’t going on in truth,” and it leaves us still having to see the nothingness of that dream . . . there is no peace in this (A Guide to Awareness and Tranquility 54).

When we choose – however briefly, even unintentionally – to let go of this pseudo-identity (which is the egoic self), then we know peace. The miracle enters perception as a witness unto this “right” choosing: we feel it – a sense of happiness, quiet contentment, inner peace, a singular desire to continually serve our brothers and sisters. And over time, the miracle teaches us – because we are not nearly as complex and mysterious as we think – to choose rightly more and more often for no other reason than we really like how miracles make us feel. Reflexively, we do what makes us happy. We are, it turns out, naturally inclined to grace.

Attention to the truth of this speeds up awakening. When I talk about giving attention, I am simply saying to be aware of when miracles are and when they are not and then be miraculous. Work miracles. Be miracle-minded. We can’t learn this through the acquisition of facts or ideas, but we can see it and bring into application, not unlike learning to swim or play guitar or bake bread.

All of which is to say that there are neither secrets nor mysteries. There are only miracles attesting to the power of choice upon which all our joy is founded.

Attention is a Form of Acceptance

Attention is a kind of questioning, but not questioning as the brain and the egoic self understand it. The egoic self wants answers that do not exist and so cannot be found because its maxim is seek but do not find (e.g. T-12.IV.4:1-5). But attention is content to let what is be. It no longer projects its wants and uncertainties. Attention is a form of acceptance in which need itself ends and so seeking, too, ends.

But attention is not exclusive. This is a condition of its capacity to heal through undoing: nothing is left out. Nothing is forbidden. Whatever arises belongs. Whatever arises is welcome.

Attention includes even itself – that is, it gives attention to attention and to the gift of attention. Has it been made conditional – offered only to those people, places and things that the ego deems favorable? Has it excluded what causes pain and discomfort and fear? So long as it is conditional or exclusive it is not attention, but projection – another attempt, however veiled or nuanced, to make an ideal self against which the world stands in ruinous opposition. You and I are not that.

When we are attentive, we are merciful: unto that which we perceive, which is our brothers and sisters, and so by extension unto ourselves. Mercy is the willingness to offer love and succor in the face of grief, injustice and conflict. The merciful love because they know that love is all, and this knowledge is not of the brain. It is not subject to change. It is not intellectual. Language does not make it – rather, it consents to be temporarily contained by words in the interest of a greater and more fullsome release for all.

You who perceive yourself as weak and frail, with futile hopes and devastated dreams, born but to die, to weep and suffer pain, hear this: All power is given unto you in earth and Heaven. There is nothing that you cannot do. You play the game of death, of being helpless, pitifully tied to dissolution in a world which shows no mercy to you. Yet when you accord it mercy, will its mercy shine on you (W-pI. 191.9:1-4).

Do not hide from what appears before you: do not reject what appears before you: do not even judge what appears before you. Analysis is not our task any more: love is. And since we do not know what love is, then we must become willing learners: and the salient quality of all devoted students is their attentiveness. Only that!

Life offers itself to us that we might offer it to our brothers and sisters, to chickadees and bears, seascapes and landscapes, to starlight and space. It is given that we might give it – that is its law, that is what ensures Creation. Through attention we learn what is already done because it is always being done. This is the end of learning: this is the beginning of joy.

Life is Not Personal

. . . What I am trying to say is that life is not personal. The same force that sustains the bluet, the pine tree, the box turtle and the moose sustains us. More, it sustains us all equally, so that a blade of grass truly does encompass as much of life as you or I.

This is what we don’t want to accept, because it is the death of specialness. It is the end of the separate self with its dreams and memories and stories and goals. It is not that that self dissolves or ends – it simply becomes a part of the flux, no better or worse than any other part.

And we rebel against that! It is so clear: life is both a trout, the brook the trout lurks in, and the man who studies the brook thinking about God. How could it be otherwise? How could the man be better or more important? How could he become better? He can’t. He just is, like the fish and the brook. That’s what life means. That’s what life is.

I am not saying that we can’t carry our story with us, but I am suggesting that the story might not be so attractive once we settle into life as it is. It might not be so necessary. We can pick it up and put it down the way we do a favorite song or book. Either way, life goes on.

The names for our acceptance of this truth – life is not personal – run the gamut from awakening to internal decolonization. It is a common idea across the religion/philosophy/psychology spectrum. The question isn’t what we call it or how or where we encounter it. The question is do we see it, and if not why not, and if so, how are we bringing it into application?

It turns out there are levels or gradations to the nondual experience. It really is a sort of ascension or progression. Yes, at the end we see there was no journey but before we reach no-spiritual-journey, we go on a spiritual journey. The intellect often gets there first: it understands nonduality. But then the rest of us – body, soul, mind, narrative – lumbers along catching up. It happens differently for all of us.

Paradoxically, it feels very personal, the discovery that life is not personal.

On the other hand it can also be fun. The intellect says, “we’ll be in Boston in two hours,” and so you can just relax and breathe and enjoy the ride. What else is there to do? Hence Roland Barthes, hence paragraphs, hence guitars, hence sleeping with your beloved, and so forth . . .

In the meantime, honesty and kindness seem to be good standards for the road. Honesty doesn’t have to translate into action; it’s just nice to be clear. I think this, I feel that. And kindness is nice, too. By this I just mean the usual: share your stuff, help old people, listen to kids, and if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. It’s only complicated if we want it to be.

Be serious about awakening. Give attention to the whole of your life, out of which attention awareness will surely and naturally arise. But it’s okay to smile and eat cookies and listen to 1980s arena rock and start painting or taking dance lessons and all the rest of it. Have fun. Be fun, too.

Forgiveness is Healed Perception

It is important to see the simplicity of forgiveness in A Course in Miracles: it is “the healing of the perception of separation (T-3.V.9:1).” It is not an action, not an accumulation of information and rules. It is a right or coherent way of seeing, a healed way of seeing.

“Seeing” in this case refers to a mode of internal perception. Perception begins internally with names, classifications, memories, opinions and ideals and all of that. It is a vast and complex system and we are aware of very little of its operation. Mostly we perceive only its end result, and maybe the step or two leading up to that result: we call it life, or our experience of life.

A Course in Miracles does not ask us to undo this system. It simply invites us to question its effects and, based on the insights we derive from that questioning, consider there might be a better way. The choice for a better way reveals the better way. It is itself the better way. It is always there.

You have need to use the symbols of the world a while. But be you not deceived by them as well. They do not stand for anything at all, and in your practicing it is this thought that will release you from them (W-pI.184.9:2-4).

We might agree that this tree is a “maple tree.” Okay. But that is merely a symbol for this beautiful thing, right? We could call it “Bob” and it wouldn’t be any less lovely or helpful (in terms of syrup, foliage, shade and fire wood). Even calling it “tree” is a convenience. I could call it “blob” and its elegance and grace would not be compromised in the least.

It is important to see this and to practice it. We are not looking at maple trees (or sunsets or wild turkeys or grains of sand), we are looking at life. And there is not an empty space between the trees and our bodies, but rather vital and dynamic air – filled with oxygen and bugs and water molecules and light and all of that. It is all Life, all connected, however subtly, and we are part of it. We are it and our attention is simply a gift, life being grateful for itself.

. . . [C]reation has one Name, one meaning, and a single Source which unifies all things within Itself. Use all the names the world bestows on them but for convenience, yet do not forget they share the Name of God along with you (W-pI.184.11:3-4).

This is always so: if we close our eyes and run through our relationships with friends, neighbors, family members, lovers, pet, politicians and so forth we will see it. We give them names and attributes but it is all a matter of convenience. Our internal landscape is one fluid movement – a singular flux – just like its external reflection. There is nothing but the Oneness we mistake for “everything” or “all.”

There is nothing wrong with enjoying the simple pleasures of our lives: eating healthy food, going for walks, making art, holding hands, listening to Chopin or chickadees or the rain. Our goal is simply to see these “things” for what they are: convenient symbols whose implication of a fractured or separated reality is an illusion.

. . . [Y]ou must accept the Name for all reality, and realize the many names you gave its aspects have distorted what you see, but have not interfered with Truth at all (W-pI.184.13:3).

These many names have no effect on reality: they are merely a convenient way to describe oneness. Once we see this clearly – they are a matter of convenience, not truth itself – then we are no longer resisting our Source. We are no longer struggling to defend our fractured perception and confused sense of Love. We have something to offer – we can be of service. We will see the real world, and it will be both instantly familiar and profoundly new.

The real world was given you by God in loving exchange for the world you made and the world you see. Only take it from the hand of Christ and look upon it. Its reality will make everything else invisible, for beholding it is total perception. And as you look upon it you will remember that it was always so (T-12.VIII.8:1-4).

This is a learned skill. We have to study it and practice it. At first it seems impossible, then awkward and impractical. But more and more it becomes natural and joyful. We begin to see that this is what we are in truth. Love is our inheritance. It awaits only our acceptance.

On Ending Projection

It is helpful to remember that projection is a mode of perception, not an action that we take, like writing a letter or mowing a lawn. It is a way of seeing that is at odds with reality and is thus dysfunctional. It enhances rather than dissipates our sense of separation from life. Thus, ending projection is really a matter of choosing a more helpful way of thinking.

All metaphors are clunky, but we could think of it this way. Yesterday, when I came in from my walk I looked at the calendar. I pulled my glasses from my pocket to read and saw only a blur through shadows. I squinted, moved my head back and forth, shifted my glasses and nothing helped.

Then I realized that I was wearing my sunglasses, not my regular reading glasses (insert embarrassed smile). Once I put the right glasses on, everything clarified. I could see again.

So when we project, it is like we are focusing through a wrong lens. The solution isn’t to do anything, other than focus through the right lens.

Even that is a bit misleading because it makes an image of us picking and choosing between lenses – like trying on this or that pair of glasses until everything comes into focus.

But the shift we are talking about – from wrong-seeing to right-seeing – is simply a change of mind. It takes place internally. There is nothing to do. We don’t have to resolve to stop projecting, we don’t have to apologize to the object of our projection, we don’t have to make an amends to Jesus for screwing up his ACIM program. Nothing.

We are  not seeing clearly and so we choose to see clearly. No more than that. But no less, either.

The simplicity of this is both astounding and intimidating. When we see the truth of “the secret of salvation is but this: that you are doing this unto yourself” (T-27.VIII.10:1), then we are given the means of ultimate liberation. We may yet delay our release – we may backtrack into denial and projection – but the game is truly over. It is merely a question of when we choose to bring the truth into application. How clear!

And yet, after so many years of resistance – lifetimes, perhaps – how frightening to think that we can at last be happy and at peace forever. We become paralyzed a little. We freeze up. It happens to all of us, and it is understandable.

When we discern that we are holding some external influence (a person, place, thing, event, etc.) responsible for our inner peace, then we are given an opportunity: to continue to obsess over and blame this external influence for our problems, or to accept that we can be hurt by nothing except our own thoughts (W-pII.281.h).

If we choose the latter, then we are taking responsibility for own salvation. This alone creates a powerful shift in perception. Our focus moves from the external – the person who impedes us, the job that doesn’t function, the city that’s too loud, the weather that’s too wet, whatever – to our thoughts. We give attention to thought itself.

When we give attention to thought, sooner or later we learn that its flow is no different than anything else that is external – a river, a tree, the song of a bird. Its apparent importance and power are simply affects we’ve assigned to it and then pretended that we weren’t involved in it at all. But the truth is that of itself, thought is nothing. It is merely another external detail.

A Course in Miracles meets us where we are, accommodates our illusions of preference, and moves us as far into healing as we are ready and willing to go. It is very practical and efficient, and its efficacy is premised mostly our willingness to let it work without getting in the way.

And so at last our attention moves away from mental thought and towards what A Course in Miracles calls “the thoughts we think with God” (e.g. W-pI.51.4:4). In those thoughts our joy and peace are found. In those thoughts is our home.

How do we do this? For me, it is a matter of making A Course in Miracles my spiritual practice, for lack of a better word. I read the text, I do the lessons, I heed my teacher and trust that eventually the requisite insights will blossom which in turn heal this fractured perception. And, notwithstanding a few bumps and wrong turns here and there, that is pretty much how it has gone.

More and more I appreciate and respect the deeply personal nature of A Course in Miracles. It meets us where we are, accommodates our illusions of preference, and moves us as far into healing as we are ready and willing to go. It is very practical and efficient, and its efficacy is premised mostly our willingness to let it work without getting in the way.

. . . [T]he memory of God cannot shine in a mind that has obliterated it and wants to keep it so. For the memory of God can dawn only in a mind that chooses to remember, and that has relinquished the insane desire to control reality. You who cannot even control yourself should hardly aspire to control the universe (T-12.VIII.5:2-4).

I am not saying that ACIM should be anybody’s spiritual path and, if it is, I am not saying that they should walk it this way or that. I am merely bearing witness to how it has worked – and continues to work – for me.

There is really nothing to do but give attention to our practice, right here in the world, and trust that we are not alone in it. Tara Singh encouraged his students to bring a sense of order to their lives – to make God their first love – and to know as a result that “the Divine Intelligence is there to help” (Love Holds No Grievances 54).

It can seem boring and insufficiently mystical at first – to clean our house, eat simple healthy food, focus intently on the daily lesson’s directive or whatever – but that is only because, as a means of resistance, we insist that God be a mystery, or distant, or conditional.

God of course is none of that. God is here now, a present reality presently unrecognized. The slower we go and the simpler we live, the more vividly and clearly our recognition of that fact – that truth – dawns in our minds.