We Sleep-Walk, Strive, Battle and Resist our Own Truths

Two GorillasInside of each of us exists two beings, both powerful and both seeded with the potential to bring about the end of the other. This has made for some great stories about battles that take place because good and evil live within us. The most potent of these stories stir the inner Spirit, as when sweet and unassuming beings, like Frodo the Hobbit, throw themselves wholly into the quest to save the world from the destructive madness of the monstrous, pounding armies of beings like Sauron, the Dark Lord. J.R.R. Tolkien wrote The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy in England around the world wars. I have often wondered if Frodo is a symbol for Jesus and Sauron for Hitler.

How do we humans ultimately choose which fork in the road to take? Is it a million small decisions made over a thousand lifetimes that ferry us at last either to hopelessness and a pit of despair, or into light and the joy of belonging? Is it fair that we must live with the consequences of our choices? In our many lifetimes, we have all been master and slave, criminal and judge, this or that color and race, healer and diseased, wealthy and poor–so that we may ‘walk in another’s shoes.’ Deep within, we know this. We also know everything that we’ve ever done and thought, though we must choose to see it. Thus, between lives, we request the circumstances that will stimulate remembrance and spiritual growth, personally ‘writing’ the pathways of each of our stories or lifetimes.

Why do we do this? We are spiritual beings who fell from the light who have been given some time and space to ‘go Home.’ Between lives, there is nothing more important than getting Home. But here, in these bodies full of desires, with our strong minds, we struggle. If we’re successful, we struggle with ego and the ‘number-one’ fixation. If we’re not, we struggle to survive. Forgetting that we are sons and daughters of the Loving Force that created everything in the universe, we sleep-walk, strive, battle and resist our own truths.

Is this all there is? Near-endless cycles of self-centered decisions and never-ending suffering? Is there no other way? Is group healing possible? Is there a fall-back clause tucked away in the divine manual of Universal Law that would allow for heavenly intervention to end all of our self-inflicted, painful karma?

Would it take a certain percentage of us saying, “Yes to Love!” to allow the rest to come? How would that work? We all have free will, so we likely can’t be swooped up in a love-wave. We would each have to choose. “Given the opportunity to end your suffering,” we might be asked, “would you choose to again become one with God/Love/Universe, to exist and create within the Whole, or do you choose to live in separation?”

If this was possible, what would your answer be?

What Does the Birth and Life of Christ Mean Today?

Mary and JesusThis time each year, we Christians celebrate the birth of a child whose divinely-seeded mother was forced out of her town just prior to her son’s birth, and when her time came, she found only a barn. Why? Men of power feared even the thought of a man who would become a king appointed by God. Even those who had been expecting a savior king rejected him, for they knew what they did not want. “We don’t want a king of peace. Give us a king who will fight against this injustice!”

We have always misunderstood ‘God,’ haven’t we? We’re here, caught up in a literal rat race, complaining every day about what is lacking in our lives and in others’ lack of character and their human foibles. Haven’t we all wondered, “How could our country have fallen so far? How could God allow all the evil in the world?” What is evil to you may be different than what is evil to me, but what is evil to God? (Or Goddess? as the case may be.) I suspect it is anything that keeps us separate from our true design—conscious oneness with our Loving Creator, our Loving Natures, our inner Peacemakers.

Spiritual masters have written that the evil within us, our dark sides, may have been a glitch in the free-will design. Others have taught that the evil in the world (domination and war, immeasurably destructive greed, rampant deviancy and cruelty) is necessary. Why? Because when everything ‘comes up roses,’ we don’t seek God—and finding God within ourselves is why we’re here.

Every so often, though, we humans go so far out of control, a divine being comes to Earth to redirect us onto ‘the path Home.’ God became man, Jesus Christ, for just that reason. Isn’t the story of the angels rejoicing above the manger, the three wise kings directed there by a star, the shepherds in the fields, even the nearby animals, all coming to be with him, truly beautiful? What a welcome he received!

But it didn’t last long. I recently read somewhere that when Jesus Christ realized he had failed miserably in his invitation to us for oneness with His Father, he had no choice but to sacrifice himself. And though some don’t believe that ‘he rose from the dead and ascended into heaven,’ I doubt the true spirit of the Christmas/Easter Love Story would still have so much effect on our hearts if he hadn’t.

But, what is the point now? When I think of post-Jesus Christ history, all the crazy dictators and all the warring over land, wealth, power—think of just Hitler and Stalin alone and your jaw drops—what does Jesus Christ mean in this context? How will the message, “My Father loves all of you. To know this, put Him first and then love your neighbor as you do yourself,” ever get through our thick, brick me-first walls? Maybe the answer is now in a tipping-point:

God created us and gave us free will, probably because children of God, made in His (and Her) image with souls, minds and hearts, cannot be God’s children without free will. Certainly, however, God has thought, “Dang it all!” many times since. Maybe when God became a man, for a truly personal experience for everyone, our Creator thought, “That ought to do it!” But more death has been caused in wars over religion than all other motives combined.

It seems now that peace is up to us. We must bring it forth from our God-souls. Something stirs across the Earth—and from within our dear Earth Mother, whose every particle of being reflects divine love. Something is, at last, touching our hearts and minds on a group level. When enough of us tire of the ego-tripping and the fierce competing that crushes our brothers and sisters, we will reach a tipping point and a planetary shift in consciousness will occur. Those who put Love first will turn, take the hand of another who will do the same, and together, we will leave anti-Love and our well-earned karma behind and make the blessed leap Home—together.

Merry Christmas and divine blessings for all in 2014.

Amen OM Aho

 

Holidays for the Working Poor

Love HealsI was thinking this morning about the holidays and the working-poor. People working at the minimum wage put in forty hours a week for about $300 in gross wages. Other people find it repugnant that those working for $7.50 per hour apply for food stamps or Medicaid. They say things like, “Change how you think, man and create greater income! Get an education, for God’s sake. Get off the government dole. You are draining the government.”

I agree that life cannot change for the better unless we believe it can. But confidence is in short supply for those raised in poverty, or who were chronically abused as children, or who didn’t make it through high school. We call them drop-outs, but many were passed to the next grade without fully comprehending the last, and by the time they got to high school, they knew they weren’t getting it. Their reading and math skills weren’t up to par. They were lost in science and geography. It is a particularly degrading type of suffering to sit somewhere every day believing you are not smart enough or good enough to take your place in the world.

The working poor often lacked emotional support, too, and do not have the basic life skills, and therefore the confidence, needed to ‘think and grow rich,’ or to attend technical school or college. And where in the world do you get the money to pay for an education if you did not learn what you needed to in grades K-12? No scholarships available for someone who has a hard time filling out a job application. So off to a minimum wage job they go, with the well-to-do often thinking, “You made your bed. Sleep in it.” But all aspects of our economic and political systems are interwoven. If you are well-to-do, I ask you, “What have you done to create or support this system of slave-labor? What can you do to repair it?”

We don’t think about the cost of rent, or food or toilet paper and laundry soap when we have good-paying careers. But we sure think about it when we are working for $7 or $8 an hour. Minimum wages do not cover these basic needs in America. Minimum wage workers are slave-laborers. They will never better themselves, or see their hopes and dreams come alive, because they cannot under these conditions.

While out shopping this year, let us realize that the person at the check-out counter may have children at home who won’t receive a toy this Christmas or who are sick or need dental care, but her minimum wages don’t stretch beyond rent, utilities, food and gas—if that. Let us remember that under our facades, we are all the same, with the same physical, emotional and spiritual needs. No one deserves to be a slave and there are far too many in this country, where one percent of the population owns forty percent of the wealth, and the bottom eighty percent own seven percent of the wealth.

Every soul was made by Great Love with hopes, dreams and purpose. My prayer for this season of Heart is that the very wealthy realize they truly don’t need that much and that they can make a real difference in others’ lives by supporting pathways to counseling, tutoring, dental care, higher education or technical school training, and low-cost loans for cars and homes. Let compassion overtake you and be fulfilled by the knowledge that you created enough wealth to bring hope where there is none; and that you have the power to target your aid in ways that truly can change the course of your fellow Americans’ lives.

Faith or Fear?

By M.N. Hopkins

This inspirational poem was written by Mike Hopkins in 1998, before a lecture. He included it in a series of inspirational writings that were published in 2002. He put it into poetic form and republished it recently on his blog, http://mnhopkins.blogspot.se.

 

fear-or-faithFaith renews

Faith restores 

Faith opens the doorway to one’s heart 

And one’s freedom from fear 

For where there is faith 

There is love, 

And where there is love

Fear cannot exist. 

So

Go in faith 

And you open a gateway 

To a new kind of living. 

One 

That many have dreamed about 

For countless centuries

Honor Thy Father?

For the last six months or so, beginning with a dream in which a gravelly voice asks me, “How would you like me to spill fatherdaughtersome blood for you?”, I’ve been hounded in my dreams by people who are trying to either tempt, hurt or kill me. At first, they appear to be someone I know and I’m confused by this, but I later realize something about them was ‘off.’ It was some twisted force pretending to be someone I know. It’s been a disconcerting period of struggle. My daughter has just moved back in and when she gets settled, I will do a cleansing of our apartment with prayers, a sage smudging stick, my Jesus Christ candle and a specific prayer to Archangel Michael. (And any other forces of goodness who will help me!) But that’s not what this post is about. It’s about fathers and honoring them.

My pretend (I hope) father has been one of those chasing me and my children in my dreams, bent upon killing us. I’ve been sensing my father’s presence (he died in 1999) for several months now but didn’t understand until recently what he is upset about. (He left my mother and my brothers and I when I was eight or nine. We weren’t close after that, though I was a little girl who loved and missed her dad. There had been trauma in our family and it seemed more peaceful after he left and the older I got, the more I felt detached from him.)

I saw him several times over the years. The meetings were strained but polite, for the most part. I knew he and my mom were how I got here but I hadn’t given much thought to honoring him. I believed he wasn’t emotionally tied to us and that he didn’t really care if we honored him or not, which probably wasn’t too far off the mark. But he does want some appreciation for making a way for me to get here—plus, I let him down when he needed me.

I wrote here in 2010 about a dream in which an angel appeared to me. The angel looked neither male nor female, but I’ll call the small person in white, him. The angel didn’t speak to me; he drew my attention with his eyes, turned and pointed to a wall, which opened. There was another wall and it opened, too. (I know now this meant an opening had been made for a relationship with him but, obvious as it was, I didn’t understand it then.) Through the second opening, I saw my father lying on a cot, weakened, pale, half-gone. I didn’t accept this image of him. He was tall, strong, cocky, handsome. He lived in another state and I forgot the dream and its message.

But my brother, who left at thirteen to live with our father, had been murdered and the grief was literally killing my father. He called everyone, including me, to ask if we had arranged for my brother’s killing. I didn’t see this as a cry for help—I was blown away by the question and just shook my head, saying how crazy he was. A few months after the phone call, the angel appeared. My father needed me and we could have a relationship. Deeply buried at the time was skepticism.

My dad has been trying to get his message of pain across the dimension between us. I’ve been hearing on the TV or seeing written the words, “Honor thy father and thy mother.’ Doesn’t it seem fairer to honor my mother who stayed and raised her children, than to honor the person who left? This is how I’ve worked the answer out: I both honor my mother and feel a soul-deep gratitude for all she’s given and gives to us. I am nursing a new sense of honor for the man who got me here and I’ve asked for his forgiveness for not answering his call for help. I hope he can forgive me. I did the best I could at the time, but now I wish I’d accepted that when an angel comes in a dream, it’s time to pay attention.