Miracle Distribution Center - A Course in Miracles Resource Center

The Miracle Beyond Missiles and Whistles

I drove the Orange Freeway awash in bright California sunshine listening to the first day of the war with Iraq. A newscaster on National Public Radio was on the ground in Kuwait reporting that he had just seen an Iraqi missile scream over his head about 300 feet off the ground. I’m angry that the war started against my will and also miffed that it started without me. I don’t get to be there and watch that miraculously fast and lethal missile go swooshing by. I will not see in person the wonder of our Patriot missile rising to meet the intruder so fast you can’t track it with your eyes. A bullet hitting a bullet. But then I will be able to see it on instant replay on TV. Fascination.

I flashed back to the late 1960’s when I was a young National Guard reservist in an armored unit. It was my first weekend drill and I was watching a line of tanks firing their .50 caliber machine guns on a range in the California desert. It was magic those bullets flying at incredible speed out into the air with a small flash of light illuminating the path (tracers every few bullets). But then an instant later I saw a helmeted gunner fall back from his weapon badly burned when a .50 caliber round the size of a small flashlight cooked off in the gun’s overheated chamber and blew up in his face. Horror.

Not getting my way with President Bush is also detracting from my enjoyment of the all the new bells, whistles and missiles our ingenuity has brought to war. Somehow in my mind I thought I could stop the war by showing up a few times at a street corner with a sign or walking through downtown Los Angeles to the beat of plastic five gallon can drums. Twelve hundred people were arrested yesterday in San Francisco demonstrating against the war. I wonder if I had just been willing to be arrested maybe that would have done it. I didn’t get my way in the world and I don’t get to marvel without internal conflict at all the new stuff that we are flying around because I know young men are being injured and killed by it—by accident and on purpose. Ambivalence.

Then it occurred to me. It’s the world, silly! THE WORLD! It’s putting on a show for you. Regaling your mind with the high drama of conflict and disaster, majesty and degradation, cruelty and redemption. There’s a little bit of every kind of human emotion from human failing to human triumph. This is what you came to this world to see—and to see through.

To watch a mechanized infantry division moving across the desert at 30 miles an hour outfitted with the ability to spot movement miles away in the dark, bombarded with data from eye in the sky satellites able to focus in on a single man in the dark. We would rather fight now in the dark because we have such amazing ability to see where we are and where the adversary is. We have transformed our species-flawed night vision that has been present for thousands of years into the sight of nocturnal animals. We have become night hunters. Miraculous, yet horrendous that we must hunt our fellow humans.

The wonder of instant news video from a remote desert thousands of miles of way tells us the division is approaching the Iraqi front lines. We don’t see it but we sense the horror as Iraqi farmers who have been hastily trained and probably threatened with their lives try to put up a fight or at least give the impression of putting up a fight against this rolling thunder of the latest technology known to man. And they are swept away. Their families will never see them again. Sorrow. How can I overlook this?

And now the television news has another breaking story: the first American and British causalities as a helicopter accidentally crashes, and now the first Marine killed in combat, and our soldiers captured and paraded on television. Anger. The mind is keyed to react to each bit of news as we watch a blood sport where the losers die and the winners can never forget what they have done. And each of us who watches wins and loses as we watch, hoping our side wins but somehow feeling the loss for the other side--even though we don’t want to. We have known people of all races and beliefs and they are just like us—they love their families, they do their duty for their governments, they try to avoid terrible deaths or hurting others unnecessarily. We will try to kill them today. Grief. How can I see something else?

Beneath the apparent differences of language and culture we all think alike. We feel the connection to the Infinite, we look for a moment of peace in the midst of all the sound and fury, we turn to God as we know Him and we ask to be shown the way to love. The mothers and fathers and wives and husbands and children of those who die on both sides of the war will turn to the same peace within for succor. Those who cannot bear the fact that they have killed and those who liked killing will be held in the same hands of peace, enfolded in the same soft blanket of spirit. Even those who seek to murder their fellow countrymen and have done it a thousand times think the same as we do beneath the mask of hatred or indifference. They hunger for peace. They hunger for the living water of the spirit that is poured out to a parched and aching world. And they will receive drink. Those of us who sit and grieve about another war after numerous wars to end all wars, we will drink in the same spring of living water as soldiers, mothers and civilians have always done from the beginning of the drama we call time.

So drink with me today a full cup of living water poured out from the eternal spring of your mind and my mind as we remember who we are in the midst of war or in the aftermath. For even when the war in Iraq is over, there will always be another conflict between people, another hint of violence, another rumor that fighting will commence. And really how different is war from that momentary anger that flares inside us against the neighbor whose music is too loud, or the man who cuts us off on the freeway or the grown up child who disappoints us? For we know that from an instant of anger grows the horror of war and the fascination with violence and separation that holds humanity in its grim hand.

We can choose again. We can choose to forgive at any moment we wish and turn to love--our true identity. We can wash away the sadness, the euphoria, the fear in an instant of recall as we listen to the voice for God speaking Arabic, English, French, German and the language of all men—the language beyond language, the word beyond words. An infantry division cannot drown it out, nor can the screams of the dying, nor the grieving of mothers, nor the emptiness of orphan children. The voice for God continues speaking quietly, steadily. As we allow the missiles to end their flight and the television to go black, we hear it. Continue listening with me. Another world sits side by side, an eye blink away. Look upon it with me for an instant and we go home to a place we never left to find all of humanity who we never stopped loving.

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The Ego's Ten Commandments

Hello. I am Dick's ego. Someone in you probably thinks a lot like I do. Nice to meet you. Dick told me he was tired and wanted to eat a jelly donut. (Which is not on his diet.). So I sent him to the Donut Queen down the street and I am writing his column while he is away. Don't tell him. He pretends not to know what I am up to. By the way, don't tell Beverly (the Editor) either. I am sneaking this past her. I just think there has been too little attention and discussion given to commandments and sin with all this A Course in Miracles talk.

Dick always writes these nice, sincere, helpful, sweet, kind and cute responses to people's letters as if he really cares or he thinks he is connected to all humanity. What silliness! He says it makes him feel close to God. What folly! I think this newsletter does the world a disservice by not showing the world how to be close to me! Emotional healing, spiritual healing. Poppy cock, without nuts! If you want to really know how to get along in the world, read on and learn how to give me strength. Stop sinning against me and I will give you the world! I have made a pilgrimage to the darkest recesses of the mind and have emerged with the complete knowledge of what you are to do and avoid doing if you are to succeed in this. I wanted to write them on stone for you but the marker guy down at Rose Hills Cemetery said there had been multiple gang shootings last week and that business was booming for stone tablets. Despite my disappointment at not being able to give you hard copy, I was gratified to hear that business was good.

But for your sake, let me set these down for you. And I best get on with it before Dick gets back. He'll get raspberry jelly all over everything. First, I must put on my prophet robes. There. That fits well. I need to be properly attired when I am giving out commandments. Also I have to get my voice down a little deeper, away from its usual shrill whine.

Remember, I am in charge. To be in perfect unity with God was not enough and I showed you the way to this world. Heed these my commandments. (A little lightning and thunder please.)

1. Thou shalt not practice spiritually in the morning, noon and night or any time for that matter. This means praying, meditating, asking for peace. This sort of thing is an abomination! (more thunder). Enough said. The least said, the better. Thinking leads to doing. If you start breaking this one, I am through with you.
2. Thou shalt not open the book. To read the text, workbook or the manual of A Course in Miracles, the Bible or any other text oriented toward peace will confuse you and cause you to doubt my plan of salvation. To read even one sentence will cause you to wander from my purposes. Close the book. In fact, use it for a door stop.
3. Thou shalt not forgive thy neighbor of anything. There is a good reason I brought blame and hatred into this world and you are not to muck it up by suggesting people aren't guilty. Of course they are. Think about it. They are messing up constantly. Pin them for it and never let'em up. They deserve it. You know they do. Think of that person in your family that just upset you. Keep reminding yourself of what they did. Picture it clearly in your mind. You can keep your anger, just concentrate.
4. Thou shalt not ask for help from others. For what you ask, you will receive. This one really ticks me off and if you break it, I am going to be all over you like bug spray. You'll wish you had incarnated as a microbe in the sewage treatment plant on Sirius B (a star system to the left of the Milky Way). I do not tolerate you treating other people as if they have some type of relationship to you. Commandment #3 really should have covered this, but it is so important I felt it needed emphasis. If you don't forgive, you should have no problem with ever asking anyone for anything. All people are untrustworthy bags of flesh who are going to get you.
5. Thou shalt worship thy emotions and never depart from them. Now don't get me wrong. I don't mean for you to practice that psychological nonsense of being aware of how you feel, talking with others, etc. That's for sissies and it can lead to you violating Commandment #4. What I mean is, make your emotions so dramatic, important or mysterious that you can't possibly fathom them. You can only cower before them and let them run your life. After all, they are so awesome and unknowable that you might as well bow down before them in utter helplessness. To be a constant bundle of fears, despairs and miseries is my will for you.
6. Thou shalt believe all projections and keep them holy. A subversive saying has made its way around certain circles and has come to my attention. I believe it emanates from that ubiquitous organization Alcoholics Anonymous. "If you spot it, you got it." This saying, of course, suggests that if you judge that ridiculous hairdo on Marjorie, you don't like your own appearance. Well, this is absurd. We all know Marjorie looks like an Airedale and deserves several rounds of criticism for it. Now you say that's a silly example. Okay. Well, try this one. Certainly we should hate those thousands of murderers and rapists on death rows all across the country. Is that a big bad projection? Well so be it. They deserve our hate. This relates to Commandment #5. If you are consistent with #5, you'll know when you hate someone's guts. It follows then, that they deserve to swing or sizzle or gurgle or whatever way they meet their end. Feels better doesn't it, when you think about it?
7. Thou shalt hate yourself and the horse you rode in on. (A chorus of complaints arises from the readers.) Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Be logical for a moment, but just for a moment (So to not violate #5.) Aren't we really scum after all? Let's be consistent, if Marjorie looks like an Airedale, don't you look like a bloodhound. Let's be democratic. If the murderer deserves to die, aren't we a lot like him? Don't we deserve to die? I would think so. Man is no damn good and we've known that for a long time. Humans are beasts. You're a human. Get it. And for one minute do you think you could follow all of my glorious commandments? You'll mess up. You're a born messer upper. Let's face it. You are nothing. Worse than nothing. Right? Good. Keep it up.
8. Thou shalt turn a blind eye to what thy mind is doing. Pay no attention to it whatsoever. It likes working with the lights out and for you to turn them on will put you in trouble with me. And you know by now, it's not nice to mess with me. If you start being "aware," looking at what you are "saying to yourself" or try to "change your thinking," I will keep you awake three nights in a row worried about it, even if you don't drink caffeinated cappuccino. I am not kidding about this one.
9. Thou shalt choose one person to have a long term, miserable relationship with. If you are to truly keep me in your life, you must have a consistent source of unhappiness. Most people prefer not to keep their despair to themselves and involve others in it. They will not have trouble with this commandment, but there is always the one, the straggler, the guy who doesn't get the message. He or she tries to "love," "accept, "surrender to," "devote themselves to" another person. You know who you are. Thank goodness you are in the minority. Once you have started a relationship and you follow the other commandments, it will be tempting for some to try to let go of old wounds, try communicating, seeking help from others. These kinds of people are what we call serial sinners. They break all the rules in the pursuit of loving others. I will cast them out! (Thunder, lightening, baseball sized hail.)
10. Thou shalt believe in death and think about it often. You all know this one and follow well so I hardly need mention it. I am particularly pleased with how most of you deny your interest in the subject, which makes your fear even greater. All I can say is keep up the good work!

Uh, oh there's Dick. He's gotten a full box from Donut Queen. I best be going. But I won't be far away. Don't forget #1-10. [Dick's ego exits as Dick arrives.]

Well, what shall I write about? What's this on the screen? Couldn't be anything important. I'll just click, save and it will all be there for me later...

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Praise God and Pass the Ammunition

A reader from Los Angeles asks the very pithy question: Dear Dr. Gayton; Is it possible to forgive someone and sue them at the same time?

This question is closely related to one I have asked myself in moments of theological bafflement: Can I forgive the people who murdered my wife and still want them executed? Yes, I have forgiven them, and yes, I think it would be possible I think for me to want them executed. However, in this particular incidence, I see no peaceful purpose in them being killed. Other related questions which I have been asked by patients: If I forgive my ex-husband who has not paid a penny of child support in ten years, is it okay to turn his name over to the D.A. for collection? If Johnny calls me a turd and hits me in the nose, even if I forgive him, can I hit him back?

These questions gave me an opportunity to again look at the operation of my ego thought system, better know as fear. As you may know, our ego is not inclined to be looked at in the light of day. It likes to operate in the murkiness of unconsciousness, so it can have a lot of control over how we think, feel and act. Furthermore, it can be quite dicey catching the ego in the act of wanting to attack. If you are to know whether your mind is operating out of forgiveness or out of fear and vengeance, you will have to be aware of what your mind is thinking at the deepest level. It is the intention of your heart and mind that matter most in the issue of forgiveness. A Course in Miracles asks us to change our minds with very few references to specific behaviors other than to forgive.

My understanding of the Course, is that we are free to choose the behavior we engage in (as opposed to being given permission), even suing, hitting or promoting capital punishment, but it is the state of mind that promotes or delays our going home. Any act that is not an act of joining with our neighbor or forgiving our neighbor, does not exist. When we are engaged in vengeance, attack, trying to rest, something from someone else to deprive them and fill in our lack, we are engaged in non-thought, non-action, non-existence. We are attempting to convince ourselves that we do not exist within the mind of God held in perfect union with Him. We have made an error, but the minute we made it we were forgiven, because nothing was really done. We are delayed in realizing our oneness with God, delayed in feeling peaceful, delayed in recognizing our true identity, but nothing else happened.

Now you ask, doesn't this set morality on its ear and allow us to "sin so grace might abound" to quote Paul in the New Testament. Doesn't this just give us one more rationalization with nice peaceful overtones so that we can go ahead and act out our vengeance against one another? It certainly can, if that is the intention of our minds. We can go ahead and indulge the ego's thirst for grievances and vengeance and blaming others for what we think is missing from ourselves. And yet as we realize that this only makes us unhappy, we increasingly choose another way, not because we have been "bad" or "evil" but because we grow so weary of attempting to separate from God. We can only tolerate this imagined separation for so long before we seek Him again.

To come back to your specific question. Are you coming from the peace in your heart when you are going to court or are you going there with vengeance. You might say: "So what if I want vengeance. I'll go to court, sue the socks off the sucker, get my pound of flesh and then forgive myself and him for it. I'll feel better then."

I would say, okay you can do that, but look at all the time you were delayed, all the experience of peace you lost. What a shame to miss out! The ego got you to forget that in order to attack your brother you had to also attack yourself first and then project it on him. So you had to suffer in order to make your brother suffer. Is that what you really want? And by the way, your brother is yourself since we are all part of the Christ. What was gained? What is the value in you suffering? If you are already a perfect child of God, united with the loving Source of all of us, why do you need to suffer?

Jesus suggests we not focus too much on theological issues, which might delay us even more. Keep it simple and ask yourself when you are getting ready to sue, hit, execute, batter, shoot, confront etc. "Is this peaceful? Is there a better way?"

Your question is so appropriate for me today because yesterday I met with a group of neighbors on some property I was selling and they were arguing over whether one neighbor should be allowed to leave his trash enclosure encroaching on my lot which was being sold to a third person. I noticed several references to suing each other in our meeting. Loud voices pointed out the justice and injustice and talked about money like it was totally limited and in short supply and nobody wanted to give it up. There seemed to be such an attraction to going to court and suing the socks off each other. I noticed the more all of us talked about the reality of going to court e.g. the time, the costs, the aggravation, it was obvious none of us wanted to. We got more peaceful about resolving the matter right then and there between ourselves. Which we did.

This is not to say you should not sue, hit or take your playmate's cookie because he took yours. I am trying to illustrate that the more we turn to peace, the less likely we are to turn to threatening, attacking or suing each other. Other times, particularly in the case of people doing things to hurt us, I have seen great peace in going to court and asking them to stop doing it with the help of that gray haired man or woman in the black robe admonishing them to stop.

Before you take any major action, ask if this is the peaceful way. The Holy Spirit within always knows. The problem frequently is that we like to make little exceptions about situations and thus allow the ego's way of doing things to be kept out of our awareness. The ego has a list of cases where forgiveness cannot work. It keeps the list locked in a file cabinet in the furthermost attic in our minds entitled "Top Secret: Authorized personnel only." Take out the list. Tear it up. Make no exceptions.

As you contemplate your lawsuit, picture the person involved in your mind in peace. If you can't do it at first, try again and this time surround him in light, a complete circle. Is he forgiven? If so, then wait in silence for the next indicated step. You will be shown. That will be your correct action.

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Peaceful Poop Scooping

When my blood sugar runs low, or the moon gets high, or my serotonin reuptake pump is leaking, anything can annoy me.

A Course in Miracles recommends we guard our minds against the smallest decision to see ourselves as separated from God. When we are not thinking of God or peace or love, the mind wanders into fear. This can then grow from the tiniest bug of annoyance skittering across the surface of our thoughts into murderous violence.

I hadn’t slept well the night before for whatever reason older bodies don’t sleep well and I floated the idea that maybe God didn’t like me this morning. Sometimes I view God as responsible for everything unpleasant that happens in my life -- sort of like a codependent wife. Anyway I had a minor irritation going that morning. I should have returned to bed but instead I steadfastly pushed on and dragged myself out into the little pasture behind our house to feed Amber, Lola (Gina Lollobrigida), Gloria Maria and one week old Leo (Leonardo DiCaprio) our resident alpacas.

When Amber spotted me grumping toward her, she cocked her head sideways as if to say “Uh, oh. What’s wrong with him?” and hocked up a green something from one of her three stomachs. I told her to mind her business, eat her hay and leave me to my business, which was scooping poop.

Jesus suggests we might want to decide in the morning what kind of day we want to have. We can scoop our poop peacefully or not, it’s our decision. I was setting up for one of those mornings where anything can happen. As I raked the alpaca beans (nice word for alpaca number two) into my handy Home Depot, not-have-to-bend-over, trash scooper, I snagged my plastic rake on the wire fence. This caused the rake to fling a spray of bean bits moistened with alpaca number one onto my bare legs. In a flash of insight only a human can understand, I realized that the rake was an instrument of the same God who had disturbed my sleep. I wanted to smash the rake into a nearby tree so that it disintegrated into the little shreds of one liter coke bottles it was made of. But I have more self-control than that, so I wiped the alpaca pooh mixed with number one off my shins on to my pants and flung the rake against the fence.

With that Amber stopped eating, looked up at me with a foot long stalk of hay sticking from her mouth as if to say, “Go eat some clover and chill out — IT’S ONLY POOP.” She then turned her massive rump to me and went back to chomping. Now I was ready to go back to bed.

I walked into the house to find Vicki washing yellow squash from her garden. She greeted me cheerily, “Do you want a cup of tea?” I answered in a barely civil manner, “No, thank you,” and stomped across the house into my office to pick up my email. I didn’t go meditate or ask God for help or sit and relax. I went to the computer knowing it had the answer to inner peace — reading junk mail. I again rejected Mr. Ubasi’s overtures from Western East Africa to accept $20 million if I would just give him my passport and driver’s license number so he could move his $200 million to the U.S. I knew the junta was after him. I wanted to help but then there was Mr. Robata from West Sengal who desperately wanted to make me rich by helping him sell his diamonds held by the Customs service just waiting for my signature. I can only help so many. Next I deleted the offer for the super never-ending ecstasy sexual potency drug -- Orgasmatopia that I could’ve used at that moment, but then I am looking for inner peace, right?

My search was interrupted when Vicki walked into my office with her head down, studying the carpet like an Indian scout examining a game trail. She halted next to my computer chair and observed, “Someone is tracking poop all over the house.” She knew she had to approach the subject gently since I was not in the mood for personal responsibility. I looked down and was amazed to notice a little pile of triangle shaped dried alpaca beans -- now looking more like alpaca biscuit bits -- at my feet. They were the shape of those treads in my sneakers. When I looked back where I walked from the kitchen, there was a veritable breadcrumb trail of these biscuit bits with an occasional wet smear of something green. I shook my head in non- comprehension.

Vicki gazed at me, pursed her lips as if the mystery was unsolved, then as an afterthought, she suggested, “Check your feet. It’s not on mine.” She smiled and returned to her vegetables indicating that she wasn’t up to bean or biscuit pick up in the house. Obviously the god of poop was plotting against me. But now I was beginning to notice my paranoid thinking. To consider that poop could plot anything was getting my attention.

I was looking for someone or something to blame. Fear is always projected as anger when we don’t want to face what we are saying to ourselves. This eventually leads to attacking a son of God -- either you or someone else. The Course tells us that all anger is insane, unjustified and only a manifestation of our mistaken belief that we could be separated from spirit. And above all it is a call for love and I needed love at that moment.

I could have turned to God sooner but later is better than much later. I took off my funky shoes, begin picking up the little bits and swabbing up the green smears on the carpet. I dropped the shoes outside and walked by Vicki who was now drinking tea and sorting grandchildren pictures. I said, “I think I’ll take a nap for a minute. “Good idea,” she said.

As I closed my eyes, I took a deep breath and remembered God. Within minutes I was restored and alpaca poop had become funny. When I walked outside again, Amber greeted me with a nuzzle and wrapped her long neck around me nibbling on my wrist as if to say, “You ate clover and are feeling better. I love you.”

We are in the life-long process of saving time no matter what small or large task we are engaged in at the moment. We are already home, at peace, in total union with the Creator spirit. Yet for a while and at times we forget. We need not be worried when we become paranoid and angry, because in a moment we can eat clover, choose to remember spirit and the illusory world of anger recedes before our eyes. Our only hurry should be to remember God. Do you notice how quickly peace comes when we just say God’s name?

So, for a moment put down your pooper-scooper, brush off whatever seems to stick to you from this world, and remember God. I stand here with you recalling our ancient friendship. Welcome home.

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Soft Spirit: In Memoriam

There is a light in you which cannot die; whose presence is so holy that the world is sanctified because of you. All things that live bring gifts to you, and offer them in gratitude and gladness at your feet. The scent of flowers is their gift to you. The waves bow down before you, and the trees extend their arms to shield you for from the heat, and lay their leaves before you on the ground that you may walk in softness, where the wind sinks to a whisper round your holy head. (Workbook lesson 156)

Tears fill my eyes and great choking sobs remind me of love for a little dog, a white Bichon with a fancy pedigree, Tendre Esprit, French for soft spirit. We called her Spree. We put her down not long ago when the vet discovered a cancer that was giving her a lot of pain and couldn’t be fixed. Spree was one of the bright lights of my life in the form of a white fur ball with large black eyes and a tendency to sleep anytime she wasn’t chasing a ball or watching for the latest meal. She was a spiritual advisor to this column and by the way remains so. She could stay at peace even as I was frustrated at the small things in life -- computer glitches, health challenges, ego attacks, but there were two things she would not abide --- the amorous advances of our black poodle Todo or anyone walking across our yard. She had a good sized ego. It was just that what bothered her didn’t bother me and vice versa.

What is it about losing pets to death that upsets us so much? I had several psychotherapy clients whose depression could be traced back to the death of a beloved pet -- a dog, cat or even an iguana or snake. Sometimes older people do not get over the loss when a dog has been their primary companion and they have lost contact with the outside world through alienation from family, illness or depression.

We develop special love relationships with animals much the way we do with humans. Because we are amazing spiritual creatures, our minds attach profoundly to those we love whether they be human animals or other species. This attachment is based on love but also fear. Fear because we believe that death is real, as our scientific technological culture portrays death as the enemy and does everything to delay it, distract us from thinking about it and then ultimately gives into death with a sense of failure. A Course in Miracles teaches us that death is the ultimate illusion and the underpinning of all fear and belief in separation. As students of the Course we know this is true, but as lovers of animals we still feel the pain when their bodies become lifeless.

The belief that death is real causes me to deeply miss Spree but Spirit grounds me firmly in a love connection with that small creature. When in grief I begin to think she has gone, I remind myself by saying “I love you Spree” over and over until it sinks in. The reality of love is of timeless, endless connectedness. As with all illusion we can pretend that love can end, even act as if it’s true, but in the end when we have given love it always returns to us reminding us of truth and permanence. Each time we choose to love a pet or a human we rediscover those who we have always been connected to. The reason we were so drawn to them in the first place, consumed by them is because they give us a glimpse of our connection to God. This momentary vision we never forget. The process of grieving a pet's death is the process of remembering the love connection to them and celebrating it.

In my book The Forgiving Place, we outline the stages of loss and recovery. It’s the 5 R’s to finding joy again.

1. Reaction: we feel the tangible loss of the body and we begin the grief work of moving our relationship with them into the world of spirit. Crying and remembering begin the process of placing them permanently in our hearts. We may feel guilt over some aspect of their passing. I made the decision to use a drug to end Spree’s life. I second-guessed that decision quite a bit. We will need to forgive ourselves for whatever we thought we could have done better.
2. Resting: we take a break from active grief and allow ourselves to live our everyday lives. We don’t have to be crying every day or remembering all the time. Grief takes energy and requires down time. Time to be refreshed and comforted by those who love us. Time to take care of ourselves. Eat right. Get a massage. Hold the hand of your friend.
3. Remembering: after a break the memories of your dog or cat or loved one flood back into your consciousness. I have fantasies of Spree running through the house chasing a ball and of her jumping on the bed in the morning and ever so slightly licking my cheek — just once. We might begin to remember some of the annoying things the critter did and even feel relief that we don’t have to deal with that anymore. Spree had the most god-awful teeth in all creation with equally awful hound breath. We would have to brush her teeth which she hated. Guilt may return over their last days of care or some sense of neglect. As we remember and grieve some more, our fantasies of loss begin to transform.
4. Releasing: We continue to express sadness but also to remember the joy of loving and the relief that spirit has when the body is laid down. We begin to realize we did the best and gave the best we knew. We release the idea that we can somehow undo the past or replace their body with another body and make it all right. I let go of my impulse to go look at Bichon puppies for now.
5. Resolution: The sadness eases and joyful memories prevail. We forgive ourselves and them of everything. This process may proceed over an extended period or be brief. But when we have let go of all grievances, we get the gifts -- their permanent place of love in our hearts and access to that love to give to other animals . We memorialize them in our thinking, our telling stories about them to others as I am telling you the story of Spree and there may be a hundred other creative ways to honor and remember this creature whom we love: burial plaques, donations to rescue groups, special care for other animals in need, poetry, paintings. I painted a watercolor of three golden retrievers who have entered into light. It hangs in our hallway and fills me with joy when I see it. We get to make them bigger than life and that is not distorting reality. Their spirits are indeed grander than the bodies they inhabited for a short time.

By welcoming these stages of grief and resolution you have honored your creature, strengthened the awareness of spirit within you and increased your capacity to love.

So where is Spree now, my mind asks? She is where she has always been — with me. Just as that critter you are thinking of now is with you. I love the imagery of Betty Eadie in her book Embraced by the Light when in her near-death experience she describes animals peacefully accompanying her as she journeys into the soft, loving light of God. We are all creatures of light accompanying each other in and out of bodies, holding each other up, reminding each other that we are already home. Truly nothing has gone wrong with Spree or your cat or with your mother or your husband or your child. They walk beside you touching you on the shoulder, whispering in your ear of love.

Spree just licked me on the cheek and tells me it is time to play.

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God Playing Doo-wop in Your Ear

Whenever you are in doubt what you should do, think of His Presence in you, and tell yourself this, and only this: ‘He leadeth me and knows the way, which I know not. Yet He will never keep from me what He would have me learn. And so I trust Him to communicate to me all that He knows for me.’ (T278)

My day-trading mentor is French and speaks English with that marvelous pronunciation of our language that makes it somehow sound better. And there is something about the way his voice comes across my computer sound system that lifts me up in the face of terrible odds. Yes, I confess, I am a day-trader and I have Internet trading friends. Trading has no redeeming social value, immerses me in the world of illusion, drags me daily through the emotions of fear, dread and greed --- and yet I love it and I have come to love the people I meet online each day. Most weekday mornings I arise from my pallet at 5:15am to prepare for a morning of futures debauchery. I have not gotten out of bed at 5 am since Army basic training or to go fishing. I gave both of those activities up because of their bad hours as well as the Army’s interest in alternately killing me or boring me to death.

I watch three computer monitors for a couple of hours with bar charts blinking and indicators indicating and trade the SP500 emini and Dow mini futures facing grim odds of success. Nine out of 10 future traders lose in the market, but somehow when my mentor Marc talks, I believe in a miracle for myself. When Marc trades, he produces the miracle of success and after two years of study and practice with numerous mentors I have begun to inconsistently succeed also — not perfectly, but what was seemingly impossible now is a reality.

We all have inner barriers that divert us from following Spirit and doing what we would truly love. When we are stopped by these barriers, we give up on the astounding power of our minds. My mind instructed me that trading was gambling, not spiritual, Jesus wouldn’t be doing it, it can give me the runs when it gets too exciting, friends and relatives think I can’t win at it, and the list is quite lengthy.

To whatever love draws us, our ego objects. If you stop and consider, there is an activity, an area of study, a relationship, a career you know that would be profoundly meaningful to you and you don’t dare give it a try or you have tried, then given it up prematurely or failed because of lack of preparation or follow through. Have you ever wondered why you do that and how you can harness the power of the mind to overcome it? To get the power is to have access to a world of wondrous, loving joy. What would you do for that? Would you risk asking for it? For a minute think about what would give you joy and then ask to be shown the next step. Now notice what your fearful mind has to say about it. Maybe you tip toed past these objections but get defeated anyway by only sticking your toe in the water and withdrawing your full commitment from the effort.

Sometimes we are so befuddled with fears, reasons and objections we can’t even get in touch with what we love. But if we quiet our minds for a moment and accept that we create the fearful thoughts and gently release them, loving plans for our lives emerge. The crashing waves of fear on the surface of our minds calm themselves. Remember Jesus calming the waves on the Sea of Galilee? He spoke to the winds. Speak to your mind. As the waves subside, the depths are revealed. Beneath our surface self awareness is the clear insight as to what makes us happy. These ideas bubble to the surface and explode into the sunlight of our consciousness. They have been rising to the surface of our minds right along but the turmoil of our thoughts obscures them. Have you noticed that when the ocean has roaring seas with white caps, you not only cannot see below the surface but you can’t spot what’s floating in front of your face?

When we know what we would love to do, we may be afraid of it. Choosing to pursue love will take us into realms of service, abiding peace and soaring joy that do not fit the ego’s pictures of how things are to go. Remember, the ego is into death and our personal misery. From my mother’s knee I was taught that helping people with problems was one possible road to a meaningful life. Trading not only wasn’t in the top three other possibilities, it didn’t make the list. So count on your mind, your family or your mother being uneasy with your choice to do what you love. But once you ask to be shown, Spirit hears, then hold on to your seat. You have tuned into God’s radio station in your mind and He has a channel that cooks. Actually God is a black man singing doo-wop.

So what if the negative thoughts keep coming back to us even after we calm ourselves and tune into God? We need to remember that what we think is our total creation. We are the masters of our consciousness. We choose it all and while for moments it seems impossible to stop particular thoughts, those thoughts will change if we are patient. In the meantime, the attitude we take toward them means everything. When we are “nuts” -- which I am frequently during trading, writing, interacting with friends and family, walking down the street -- we can choose not to give it any particular meaning. I might consider that: “I am a total failure at trading” or “my writing sucks.” It’s normal for the ego to think this way. The trick is then not to create an additional story about this negative inner story. Accept it and move on. As the Course says, these thoughts don’t really mean anything unless we give them meaning. We can choose to gently ignore them, play with them or seek help about them and above all we can give all our conscious power to pursuing what we love. I keep turning to Spirit in the face of my ego’s craziness. My prayer is “God I give You all my plans, now show me Yours. I will follow Yours.” If I will read two lines out of the Course — any two lines — my insane thoughts subside. Another little trick I have when I want to attack myself is to say “Jesus” a few times to myself. My ego wants to say “Jesus H. Christ, don’t you know what a dumb ass decision that is?”

Writing, my other high-risk occupation, also risks ego attacks. Writing books is like playing baseball. It’s a lot of fun and very personally rewarding but you rarely make the big leagues, which the ego reminds me daily is necessary to pay the bills. Writers, actors, traders, ball players and opera singers share a common knowledge that they are fighting uphill against the business odds but they know a little secret. What they do mines the world’s troves of joy and wonder. Why else do you think we do it? A few months ago a friend of mine challenged me to do the next thing I loved in the field of writing and to start out by specifically committing myself to it. I did that and prayed for Spirit to make of my wish what would serve love. What I really wanted was to see a movie or television presentation of my novel The Mind Travelers. I have always thought of it as perfect for these medias because it is full of visual action with sex, violence, vengeance and forgiveness. My mind spit out the reasons why it wouldn’t happen and pushing me to make it happen. Before I had done anything I was exhausted and primarily motivated for a nap. Plan B was to turn it over to Spirit and be open for a joyful journey. Whether or not it would lead to the specific goal I had in mind, I let go. In a few days I was led to hire a part-time publicity person to get the book noticed. My mind had a fit about spending the money.

I ran an ad in a local newspaper and got no responses, and then on a whim I asked our house sitter if she might be interested. Turned out she had held numerous public relations jobs for non-profit corporations. She became a wonderful publicist and created a counterpoint to my nail biting, goal driven, field marshal approach. She was cheerful and kept a low key, peaceful, and step-by-step orientation. She didn’t seem to mind going up against insurmountable obstacles — mainly my mind. You know what her name was? I’m not kidding. Joy.

Joy suggested that I might want to write an article for the local gay and lesbian magazine here in Orange County since The Mind Travelers has a bisexual theme. I grumbled a bit about such a small publication (since I am such a grand person) and wrote an upbeat article on “Being Your Best Self,” sort of a human potential version of making a New Year’s resolution. It was a good article but I got no response to it -- except one. There’s always that one response. I got an email entitled “Have you sold the Television rights to your novel?” For a moment I wanted to delete the message as spam along with the “V.I.A.G.R.A. for cheap” and the “Make your Penis 10 feet long!” ads but what the heck.

Turns out the woman was an independent producer who had worked for a major network and made many movies. She had been in a gay bar with some friends in Palm Springs and out of boredom picked up the gay magazine with my article in it. Two weeks after our conversation she told me she loved The Mind Travelers and wanted to present it to some cable networks as a possible movie or television series. I was in pleasant shock. When I met her in Los Angeles, it was like we had been together before, old friends having found each other. I brought up the Course and turns out she had been wanting to write a play about Helen and Bill’s (co-scribes of the Course) spiritual journey.

My ego says it’s coincidence. I call it spiritual efficiency. Once you tune into God, things begin to cook. You can start snapping your fingers in time with the music. The Mind Travelers may never be a television production. Perhaps there is another reason I met this woman. I do know Spirit has something wonderful in mind and I am going stay tuned. Why don’t you tune in also? I think you will love listening to the sound of God playing doo-wop in your ear and guiding your journey to love.

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Blessed Are

I am walking the treadmill at Spectrum Athletic Club, watching CNN and listening to the TV on my earphones. The face of a young man in a Marine dress uniform flashes on the TV and then of a woman in the U.S. Army — two of the hundred plus American and British soldiers killed in Iraq. Then I imagine the thousands of Iraqis killed. I think of the 15,000 or more homicides in our country every year. I think of the mothers and fathers whose grown up children will not be there for them to enjoy. I think of children whose parents have died in wars and from AIDS. I think of the murder of my wife. I think of the continuing suffering of my secretary who testified at the parole hearing of my wife’s murderer a few weeks ago. A great sadness comes over me. I switch off the TV audio in my Walkman and turn on a music tape. Joan Baez comes on singing one of my favorite songs in her clear, lilting voice —“Blessed Are.” What was that tape doing on my Walkman? My wife, Ramona, loved that song. The words flow through to my spirit.

“Blessed are the blood relations of the young ones who have died who have not the time or patience to carry on this earthly life. You and I are one way ticket holders on that one way street which lies across a golden valley where the waters of joy and hope run deep.”

Baez’s voice reminds me of love in the midst of loss in a nightmarish world — the miracle of being able to love more when someone we care about has died and the miracle of wanting to reach out to those who feel loss. The woman who helped a man murder my wife and severely wound my secretary came up for parole last month (as of this writing). I had been corresponding with her for the past year and a half and finally traveled to the prison in Chino to meet with her. I didn’t know how it would be but as I waited to meet her with my friend Dan Millstein from Visions for Prisons, I felt happier and happier. When I was finally let into the visiting area, I greeted the young woman, who was nineteen when she committed the crime, with a hug. She was now approaching middle age. It was like I had met an old friend. I was astounded to find her to be a wonderful person, spiritually focused, artistically gifted and dedicated to serving others in prison. She had apparently also dedicated herself to my healing. I knew immediately she no longer needed to be in prison although maybe prison still needs her as a healing influence on other inmates. She knew things about spirit and emotions that I try to tell others about. She knew things that I don’t know.

I attended her parole hearing a few weeks later with several family members and my secretary who had survived with terrible wounds. For thirty minutes the hearing officer read of the woman’s accomplishments in prison: AIDS counseling, tutoring and art competitions. It was almost too much praise to listen to. I spoke briefly, describing her as a spiritually transformed person who is helping others and asked that she be released. Then the District Attorney spoke and reminded us all of the horror of the crime. For some of us it was like it was happening all over again — the terror for the victims, the hatred, the violence, the gore, and the pitiful last words of my wife. The painful past became real again for a few minutes.

Several spoke against her release citing the terrible nature of the crime and the horrific impact on them not to mention my wife’s un-lived life. Then the young woman who had participated in the murder addressed us all and apologized to each person individually acknowledging her part in the murder and brutal attack on my secretary. She shared her sorrow and asked for forgiveness. Many in the room could not accept it. But for me it continued to promote healing reminding me that love was not lost on the devastating day in May 16 years ago. My wife’s body had died but her spirit had not. I am reminded that no one is lost through death or beyond redemption because of an action they take. We have trouble believing that when we have been grievously harmed by others, at the times of the death of our friends and family, and even as we approach our own physical death.

Psychologists believe that a least ten people are severely impacted by the traumatic death of a single person in this world. Those of us who study A Course in Miracles know that we are all one — that our thoughts are joined. There is no separation of thought. Think of the people who are walking by you everyday who are hurting and believing they are lost in this illusion of a world — that those they love are lost in the great void of death. Think of yourself, for you are in some fashion affected by every traumatic death in Iraq, Africa or in your city. You are one of those in pain or you know someone who is. Or you are one of those who can remember the greater truth of love in the midst of it all and can remind others.

And Baez’s song continues.

“So if you pass the parents weeping of the young ones who have died, take them to your warmth and keeping, for blessed are the tears they cried and many were the years they tried. Take them to that valley wide and let their souls be pacified.”

If we move to the heart, increasing our capacity to love every time we confront hatred, death and loss, we are blessed by spirit. Our heart grows bigger, large enough to embrace our most ancient enemy and make them a treasured friend. For we are told that the angels in heaven are rejoicing as this happens and on the deepest level of spirit we hear them and it makes this world not only bearable, but joyful, surprising and miraculous.

Join me now in this adventure into love by thinking of where you are most closely touched by traumatic death. Maybe it’s for the family of a gang member who was killed, perhaps it is a parent of dying child you need to hug or perhaps you need comfort yourself. Think of the person you are tempted to blame for the calamity. Consider the possibility of letting your anger go even if it seems impossible. If you allow your mind the freedom to release itself from hatred and the belief in death, you gain amazing power. You reap a harvest of love that moves you into new realms of joy and peace.

And so tonight I hold the parents of all the soldiers who have died, the killers of my wife and their families, my secretary and her family, and all those whom I love close around me. Each one I embrace in love and a hug for you, too, dear reader.

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