To Have Wholeness of Mind is to Be Sane

“A time is coming when people will be insane, and when they see someone who is not insane, they will attack him saying, ‘You are insane because you are not like us.'”
—Abbot Antony of Egypt, pioneer of Western monasticism, feast day, January 17

 

I will not judge today. Or, when I do I will promptly admit it. He will do the rest. Peace, good brothers and sisters.

“Outside” the Kingdom.

Outside the Kingdom, an “outside” which fortunately exists only in our minds where bodies play a primary role in perception, is part of the impossible, the separation.  Bodies are not bad things, nor good things.  Although the ego, while reveling in what it has made, hates the body. It will never tell you why: it would have to convince you how much it hates God. It is therefore its pride and joy, always questioned and studied as to its origin, always protected and defended. The Holy Spirit, our ticket to restoration to sanity, holds the body as a device for communication with us.  He/she is not deterred by our decision to not communicate equally.  Pride depends on inequality because it always places our minds as separate from one another to strike bargains, to enter competitions with one another, to dominate, oppress —   so one wins one loses, something.  We can be proud of our achievements and abilities, but never comfortable with the underlying awareness we will lose them, nor ever comfortable knowing our bodies will fail to give us the power to go on achieving. Some of us give up.  Sadly, because time is running out in an effort to  gain what we think we don’t have.  Nothing of God “runs out.”

We might, along the way try joy and happiness. Yet, because we are separated in our bodies, we search for the causes of these states in what others do, or how we are treated. And suffer disappointment.

What God would have us know is that happiness, joy and peace are our birthright, our inheritance, all belonging to us.  Like all inheritances they can be rejected.  Yet we cannot change them,  for God wills each to be so. Therefore, what belongs to us, we make not available; what does not, we try to make forever ours, or exchange it for a puny investment.  We invest poorly for certain.  But what is of value grows in our hearts until we are ready to accept it for the abundance that it is.  It is ours because  the only joy in having it is the joy of giving  it away.  We are His image.  For He  gives all to all.

Book Review: The Messenger – The Improbable Story of a Grieving Mother and a Spirit Guide, by Helen Delaney.

I have thought, what could more painful in this world than losing a beloved child? I say that as a parent of three of the great loves of my life. Helen Delaney describes this life happening in poignant and lucid detail in her book, The Messenger, The Improbable Story of a Grieving Mother and a Spirit Guide.  

Relating the death of her son, whom she grieves through her book, cannot be easy. Yet she spells out for us how to forgive, which is God’s reflection of His love here on earth. The answer to my opening question above for me has to be, “nothing.”  Yet, the gift of her book is the sharing of this parenting experience with us as it has drawn her to a deeper more powerful love, fostered by the very grieving that is unbearable.  Death is only a seeming end, telling that great love can cause great suffering. And Love can enable us to see the suffering differently.

The moment of a child’s death is when what happened should not happen. Upon her awakening that dreadful morning in her home, Delaney cries a cry of all parents feel they know, now still silent, yet thinking deep down within our parent instincts, it might happen. Here, she is clearly the Messenger. Now she carries the message, at the very depths of sadness and suffering, a reminder we all have the love in us to withstand any onslaught the world has to offer. That this Love is beyond all understanding.  For, it is after all the crying out that this cannot be, that is a call for this greater love that sustains us.  It is at the depth of our sorrow we find Power which has no opposite. Perhaps we come close to the extreme example that is always with us —  he said he would always be with us, that the cross is the last useless journey needed to be taken, and he made that journey  for us, not as a martyr, not in sacrifice, but as an act of redemption in His resurrection. Now death is no more. From that moment on, we can call forth the only resource there really is: we are Love and Love is eternal.

After all we can always see things differently. Helen Delaney knows how to see loss differently, so that we all might find comfort in not accepting it, but accepting God’s love in its place. Her parallel story, the story of her spirit guide, Lukhamen, seems to come from that same place.  He is  a young man who taught only love because he recognized that is what he is; and, perhaps thought, this is true for everyone else who comes here. The laws the world obeys are transcended in a moment of sorrow to the possibility of an eternal reality, an holy instant, like light bending and encompassing all matter, which hasn’t a chance of affecting light’s shinning, as it must. We are all touched by truth in the way that reminds us of who of we are. At times, greater sorrow uncovers the greater truth in us:  we are all  the eternal beings of a loving Father. And then we see this not only in ourselves, but the one we loved so, who somehow we come to know again in what we dread most, now still with us, and always. Death cannot be victor, for we can turn from its chamber of darkness which only seems to hold our beloved, and follow the light of his and His love together. To all who need to know how to be comfortable in one’s discomfort, which is all of us, this book will lead you to an option, where the greatest suffering presents an open door to peace. Death can only be real if God’s Love is not changeless. Reviewed by Bob Pajer