A longing for spiritual growth, for connection with something deeper, begins with our acknowledgment that while we live in a physical world, there is another world we can’t see with our physical eyes. There are man made laws to keep order, but there are also universal laws that apply to every human being because we are souls of the invisible world, who take on bodies in a material world. The universal laws are the laws of our Creator, designed to guide us back Home. Michael Brine has written here about the universal law of, “As we sow, so shall we reap,” explaining that if too much negativity is put out, by a person or a country, the scales tip and even innocent children are caught up in the ‘reaping.’ I believe he’s right—it’s a good explanation that has helped me to understand more about tragedies.
There are other universal laws, such as one that is related to sowing and reaping. The only way we can change what happens to us is to change what we’re thinking and doing. That’s the law of spiritual growth, or evolution. I’ve seen several stories about men who were deeply involved in street-gangs, violence, drug abuse and sales, keeping girls as prostitutes, and on and on, but who had an inner conversion and when they got out of prison, they began to work on behalf of young people in gangs. “Hear my story,” they say. “Let’s change your story before you become me.” My story, or yours, may not be as dramatic, but the law still applies. In order to change our lives, we must change what we think and do. Blaming others, feeling self-pity, desiring revenge—all of this has to go for us to be born anew into lives befitting our nature as souls.
One universal law that has been a tough one for me is the law of acceptance. We can’t control everything that happens to us—we can only control how we react to those things. Years ago I was a partner at a small newspaper where we published an annual issue on people we called the ‘able-disabled.’ Many had been in crippling accidents and had lost the use of their arms or legs or both. One young woman lost all four limbs to disease—gangrene, I think. She got around in a wheelchair and had been fitted with artificial arms and hooks for hands that allowed her to work as a switchboard operator. She was filled with grace—and acceptance and trust in God. I’ve made great progress in accepting the disabling fatigue related to my illness and my life lived mostly in my pajamas—but I’m still nowhere close to where this beautiful young woman was.
We can fight what has happened to us for as long as we like, or we can accept, grow and move on with what we do have, with what we can do. We can be whiners, or heroic. I’m working on moving from one to the other, but that’s probably because I’m embarrassed to still be whining at age 59. I mean, geez—you know? Crones aren’t supposed to whine!