Transformed Perception is what Transforms the World

A Course in Miracles does not offer a way “out” of the world. There is no way “out.” Rather, the course transforms our mode of perception, sharpening the distinction between what is real and what is false, so that we can choose – moment by moment – to be united with God.

In that divine union, there is no world. There is no subject and object that is the necessary precedent to separation. It is relatively to easy to learn about this: through the course, through its teachers, through other non-dual paths and instructors. But it is another thing to experience it, to make it the fact of one’s life.

This was why Tara Singh insisted that the serious student of A Course in Miracles accept as premise that the time for learning had reached its end.

We must first begin to see that we know nothing other than ideas. We are probably not interested in going any further, nor do we even think that there is anything further. We just say, ‘well, I wish a miracle would happen.’ A person can have ten PhD’s, but what difference would that make. The lesson is still of relative knowledge and the main function of relative knowledge is to keep the separation intact (Nothing Real Can Be Threatened 210).

Taraji understood the wisdom inherent in Thoreau’s observation that “[n]atural ignorance has its place, but educated ignorance is a very dangerous thing.”

Often, it is our yearning for escape – which so frequently translates into mere distraction – that impedes our natural ability to perceive the truth as

God created it.

I have to question – to look at, to inquire into – the problems that I believe shape my life. The people who are not doing what I think they should do, the economy that is not performing the way I want it to, the memories of past injustices and the anticipation of even greater wrongs ahead. A Course in Miracles is clear that “[q]uestioning illusions is the first step in undoing them” (T-3.III.2:6).

This looking or questioning is not in the nature of analysis anymore. There is a place for that but then one can move beyond it to something that is less wordy, less educated. I cannot just read about swimming in the brook, nor watch others swim in the brook. In the end, if I am serious about swimming in the brook, then I am going to have to wade in. In that action, something new happens that  learning can at best only hint at.

This is true of all experience whether we are talking about archery, baking bread, writing poetry or becoming a priest.

To focus on the external as the cause of my peace or lack thereof is nothing more than an evasion of my responsibility to be as God created me. This fact merits close and sustained attention. If it is true that “I am as God created me” (W-pI.162), then what else could possibly matter but coming to that knowledge now? What else could possibly heal the world and bring all conflict to its end?

Holy indeed is he who makes these words his own; arising with them in his  mind, recalling them throughout the day, at night bringing them with him as he goes to sleep. His dreams are happy and his rest secure, his safety certain and his body healed, because he sleeps and wakens with the truth before him always. He will save the world, because he gives the world that he receives each time he practices the words of truth (W-pI.162.3:1-3).

Thus, when I sense that things are amiss in my life, I do not dwell on them but rather give attention to the mode of perception – of thought, of the movement of mind – out of which they arise. This is the real problem, and so there is no solution apart from it. Discover that what is external is without effect and unreal and you discover the will of God within. There is no separation; there is the only idea of it.