The Truth is True. That we can say for sure. Beyond that, it gets kind of prickly. Consider, for instance…
…when a being who has latched onto a thought that is out of accord with the Truth is enjoying a period of relative satisfaction, expansion, and accomplishment in the world, it might be noted by some that things are going well, and concluded by others that a general condition of harmony must therefore reign in the innermost sanctums of this being’s life. After all, we understand the outer world to be an expression, or mirror, of one’s inner thoughts and beliefs. When, on the other hand, a being who has latched onto a thought that is out of accord with the Truth is enjoying a period of relative poverty, difficulty, and diminishment in the world, it might be noted by some that things are going poorly, and concluded by others that various conditions of discord must reign in the innermost sanctums of this being’s life for the very same reason, e.g. inner thinking is mirrored in outer effects.
I am beginning to think this is bollox, at least in a certain oft-used variation on the theme. I think the principle is over-simplified in its application, and this leads to distortion of its true meaning or potential. I need, obviously, to explain why, as I think for many spirituality is thought to offer the promise of an ability to “manifest”, “secret”, or otherwise “bring into being” conditions favorable to our happiness and well being. In short, the notion exists that spirituality might assist one in exerting a modicum of control over what arises in our world. Many of us believe and have read and been taught that it is through inner transformation that we transform the world around us. I subscribe to this viewpoint, but I think it is too often applied in a vacuum with respect to a larger picture or context in which we exist.
The fact that one of two virtually identical persons who are vulnerable to being blown over by the wind is not presently being blown over, and the other, who is caught in a wind storm, is being blown over, does not mean the first is invulnerable and thinking properly about the wind, and the second vulnerable and thinking improperly about the wind. The fact that one is caught in a wind storm and the other is not, is not the result of blind fate or pure chance or circumstance, but nor is it due to what they were thinking about while eating breakfast. When we attempt to measure our progress by the yardstick of daily events, I daresay all of us are doomed to come up against a really, really tall speedbump at some point. They call those walls.
The first difficulty is that many of us retain our right to perceive ourselves as separate beings, separate from one another and separate from the whole, and thus separate from the Truth, or what is, and we try on those terms to implement the whole “bringing into being” proposition by being real peace-loving, straight-thinking separate beings. Since we can never control or influence what is outside of us, separate beings can never really exert much influence over anything. To be separate is to be isolated from the only power there really is, which is our unity, or Truth, or Love, or whatever you wish to call that which is precisely and fully what it is regardless of what we choose to label it.
The reason I say all of this is that sometimes we get caught in the wind storm, and we think there must be something for us to take a look at. Something within ourselves to fix or figure out. We must have thought the wrong things at breakfast, or when we had that argument, or when we were a child, or whenever. Other times we are not caught in the wind storm and we think we’re on track. We may even think we’re thinking the right things, the good things. We’ll think these two states are different, and what I think I’m beginning to see is that they’re not.
A being who has latched onto a thought out of accord with the Truth can have a good day, or a bad day. Days lived in separation are but the passage of time, however. Winning the Super Bowl and spending your first night in a homeless shelter are, at some level, the same. The beings measuring their progress by the yardstick of daily events might view these two days as radically different. Christ views them as identical. Being in the wind storm or not being in the wind storm is not the issue. Joining as one with the wind storm is our challenge, and joining with each one who is in the storm, and with each one who is not. This is a tough pill to swallow, but it is starting to make some sense to me. I am reminded that Jesus says in A Course of Love that he doesn’t really think like we do. He’s not trying to focus His mind on having good days. He’s not trying to think the right thoughts to produce more of something He is lacking. He’s not interpreting any events or conditions as meaning He’s got some work to do on Himself. He said in A Course of Love that basically His thinking is like a process of discovery, of receiving, of encountering joyous surprises.
Our world could be such a world. In unity. In unity, I daresay the wind would no longer lie outside of us, and thus a type of harmony seldom glimpsed or understood would reign. If we experienced unity with the wind, we still wouldn’t control it. We wouldn’t turn it off or on at our whim. We wouldn’t measure our progress by what it did or didn’t do. We would simply want the same things as the wind. There would be things that we, and the wind, wanted to become together, and we would live in a never-ending process of discovering and becoming those things. I don’t think it is more complex than that, but I don’t know how to get from here to there. If I lived in the Phillipines I would have been blown around like everyone else. I think if I had gone into the reactor at Fukushima I would have gotten sick, too. This frightens us, and makes us want to be special so we can protect ourselves- so we can be in the right place at the right time through our correct thinking, but this very desire isolates us from transcending the game of separateness and all of its attending fragility, fate, chance, and distorted powers.
In A Course of Love Jesus encourages us to develop a relationship with the unknown. That way it can speak to us. I think He is onto something. Do you see what I mean?