I love it when God gives me a reality check. The other night when I was driving home from dinner at my mom’s I turned a corner and there, in a space between two banks of clouds was this startling sight—a huge orange ball! It took a few seconds before I came to realize that the ball was the moon. I honestly didn’t know at first what it was.
When I thought about it later, it scared me a little when I realized the reason I didn’t "get it" at first was because I get so much input from so many places that the moon was unrecognizable for what it is. It could have been a photograph or an advertisement for oranges or God knows what. It actually shocked me when I figured out just what it was.
For some reason I remembered being a soldier spending nights awake on guard duty. The moon, when it was visible was an object to contemplate. As a matter of fact, it was during my year in Vietnam that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldren first set foot on the moon. That was inconceivable to me. It just seemed too far from my own reality to be possible.
But, at least then, the moon was the moon, the giant object lit by the light of the sun at night that circled our planet. Now the input I get has become so artificial in so many ways that I obviously have trouble distinguishing between what is real and what is not.
I can’t wait to once again live in a place on this planet where the night sky is again a part of my life—where the moon becomes, once again, just what it is.
I’m heading out west in a couple of days and I’ll catch up with you when I get there.
In the middle of moving my family from the East Coast to the West Coast, at times, I become overwhelmed by the amount of details I must deal with. My wife and kids have been out West now for over a month and my full time job has been first to sell our house—thank God for His speedy sail—and pack it up.
Never, ever in my wildest imagining could I have pictured just how many objects four people could gather in 22 years, which is how long my wife and I have been together. It seems that all four of us (our two sons included) are collectors. Mostly of things which have no value to anyone else but us or to the individual collector. Rocks are a big part of what we are moving. Rocks mostly that originated in California, funnily enough, which means they were packed up from various summer trips and brought back in luggage.
The moving companies charge by weight so our bill is going to be interesting I’m sure. But, although computer junk and toys and books are expendable, rocks are not. Not to by wife or my kids—or me for that matter. Today, on the phone my wife wanted to make sure I didn’t overlook the rock with the shell attached. "Where would I find it?" I asked. "On the brown table in the living room," she told me. "Not the one on the front step with the shell shape in the rock—the fossil?" "No, this is the one with the shell attached!" She was getting impatient that I didn’t instantly recall this rock. "Found it! It was in a basket on the dining room table."
But what I am writing about here, is not about moving, and certainly not about rocks—it’s about sobriety.
I keep realizing during various moments of clarity in this overwhelming process that my ability to do my part in all of this is purely because more than a decade ago I was given a reprieve from my obsession for alcohol. If I was still drinking, I’d be totally useless. But, instead, God has given me back my life. He has given me a life wildly beautiful and fulfilling. I have the most wonderful wife and children—all of them filled with love. Even Dixie the dog is a wonder.
And me, well, I’m an imperfect being. But a being saved from destruction by a force more powerful than himself. I’ve been given a second chance and by the Grace of God, allowed to continue on this great spiritual journey.
I fully recognize that dealing with my alcoholism has been one of the most profound aspects of the journey. I had gone to work for Maharishi, lived a monastic life in Switzerland, made a pilgrimage to India but still... I was an alcoholic! Being an alcoholic was a separate issue but until I dealt with it, any other issues I had were buried beneath it. Alcoholism was the fog which obscured all the other aspects of my life. And until my Higher Power came to me like a fresh breeze and blew the fog away I was lost.
Thank God for my clarity!
Up until today, I’ve managed to stay away from politics. Most of the thoughts in my head, when I sit down to write, are about my life-long rather comic quest for enlightenment. Outside of one or two blogs over the past year, I’ve followed that path. But...
Okay, it’s a big "BUT" this guy who’s our president—well he’s got my ire up. I think that is because he’s a bully. Or a control freak. It’s obvious to me that he wants to control what happens almost everywhere. Didn’t we just send Marines into a small country in Africa—I don’t even remember where at the moment—that must make the place NOT of international strategic value.
And now Cuba. I turned on MSNBC a couple of days ago and there was a report about Bush’s plan for post-Castro Cuba...
Now wait just a damn minute here! Isn’t Cuba a separate country? Or, am I missing something again—the day it became the 52nd state? Needless to say, when I heard this, it put me over the top. So, replacing the thoughts of my quest for enlightenment today, is George W. Frikkin’ Bush planning something for another place he has no business planning for.
Why can’t the guy deal with making plans for our own country? I mean, I am beginning to see the light (what a lot of our citizens are talking about) that he, our erstwhile President, has taken his eye off the ball.
I have a theory about this. I think, as a recovering alcoholic (which he is and which is one of the areas I can consider myself an expert) is doing a mental "geographic." That means, rather than dealing with the tough issues that are right in front of him, he has amnesia. In the recovery business they call it DENIAL. It seems to me he is making up other issues to take the focus off what he really needs to deal with!
Somehow, I think Cuba will manage even if we leave it alone. Someone, maybe even someone from Miami will be elected president there after Castro, and Cuba will survive.
So, Georgie Boy (that will get his goat—because he’s a bully)—don’t make up some story about how Cuba has a stockpile of killer bees ready to be let loose from life rafts off Key West! I sense that most Americans are on to you now and even you are bright enough to know that nobody will buy the Weapons of Mass Destruction argument in Cuba.
It’s time for you to get real—at least until the coming election when I hope to God somebody with less denial will be our elected official.
Get that Georgie? Elected! Oh, I forgot, you weren’t even elected in a normal way. A lot of Americans are not quite sure you even won. Maybe that is the root of your problem—feeling "less than"?
I recognize that I’m venting here. I’m feeling some anger but I do think it may be justifiable anger. Because George is in charge of me in a lot of ways and I’ve always had a problem with authority.
I’ve been metamorphosing of late. It’s an exciting thing happening. I think what it is, is this is something that has always been going on and through the Grace of God I have just now been allowed to witness it.
I’ll try to explain: it’s like this. Many years ago Maharishi Mahesh Yogi asked me to come to work for him. I was unclear exactly what I was supposed to do, you know, what my "job" was. I was unclear about almost everything. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to what he had planned for me. First I was a video cameraman and I spent long days while Maharishi lectured to rooms filled with dignitaries, guests from all over the world and people just like me who had been picked to be there but weren’t really sure why.
I had a job but I didn’t really have a job. After awhile, Maharishi told me to sit with the designers—a group headed by Lawrence Sheaff, which also included Steven Benson, Tony Miles, Paul Levy and Eike Hartmann. I sat with them at one of the long tables set in front of the audience, just at the foot of Maharishi’s dais. From there, he gave us projects to do—sometimes individually, sometimes as a group.
I learned that it didn’t matter, in the end, what the project was. Maharishi was always switching things around, confusing us, changing the rules. Always, just when you thought you had a handle on what you were supposed to be doing, he’d pull out the carpet from underneath leaving you face down on the floor! It was at once, exasperating, tiring, confusing, and ultimately, exhilarating!
The point was—I was so dumb about it, it took me months to catch on—that WHAT you did, didn’t much matter. It was that, underlying your "job" was the most beautiful, most consistent, unmovable force of all—Pure Consciousness. And that was what Maharishi was giving us the experience of. By constantly changing our perspective on the material plane of existence, he was loosening us up so we’d let go the tight grip we all have on the surface of existence.
I was given a room in the hotel we were staying in on the shore of Lake Lucern, just below Maharishi’s room. I knew there was a reason for this. It felt as if I had been thrown into a pot of hot soup that he was stirring.
By day I was in the hall where Maharishi continually played with our consciousness and I now suspected that even when I slept at night with Maharishi's presence directly above me, this was having a profound effect towards my metamorphosis.
One evening in the hall when the day’s meeting had broken up and all were about to head to their beds exhausted, Maharishi called me up to sit in a chair beside him. After I sat down, he signaled me with his index finger to move even closer. I sat there, just a foot from him, feeling the intense heat from his enlightened being. I don’t even remember what he told me. I’m not sure that his words were the point. Instead, it was feeling his darshan, the perpetual flow of pure consciousness that emanates from his being, that was the point.
For whatever reason, I am feeling the same sort of feeling again, only now, it's purely on my own. It’s as if I’m experiencing Nature’s darshan itself.
The best way I can explain it is to say that it is much like the experience I had during those days with Maharishi. I’m in much the same position in many ways. I quit my job a few years ago to follow a faint glimmer of an inner candle that it seemed was going to lead me somewhere. But, just as when I first went to work for Maharishi, I have little knowledge about what my "job" is. The cool thing is that I don’t really much care. I’m no longer trying to fit in to what I think society wants me to be. I’ve pretty much let go of titles and roles and whatever it is that has cornered me for most of this life.
What I do know is that the more open I become, the more expansive I see that life is and thus the happier I am. And this, I guess, is the point.
I am enlightened and I only have to know it.
It is strange to think I am enlightened but this is what is taking place. The thought keeps coming into my mind, that I am fully enlightened. I am there. There is no longer any time or space between the goal and me. The truth is, there IS no goal when we know we are there. But this is a very strange feeling. Every time I think it is true, that I am enlightened, the next thought is "Oh, how can that be?" There is always this nagging doubt.
I remember Maharishi saying that doubt is the biggest hindrance to enlightenment. Suddenly, I understand exactly what he meant. Why is it that I cannot simply accept what I feel is my state of mind, my state of being. This is so odd. I feel as if I am stuck in the middle of some sort of ridiculous joke, and the joke is on me!
I wonder why I am having all these thoughts about arriving at the goal when I don’t really feel any different than I felt before. Perhaps this is the answer: There is no difference before or after. It is only my awareness of where I am at the time.
I wish everyone had a program like AA where they could share in meetings where the purpose is solely this and the others don’t judge. Unfortunately most people don’t. So instead they foist their opinions on other innocent bystanders who may or may not want to hear what they have to say. Many of the opinions I hear make absolutely no difference to me—and are things I’d actually rather not hear at all. But this doesn’t stop people from telling me, so I have to listen.
I’d like it to be a law that what one person can tell another must be done by permission only. Before speaking a person should be required to gain the consent of the listener. It should probably be done in writing so there will be no doubt after the fact.
Or maybe I just need to tell people to shut up more often; to stop being so god-awful polite and pretending that I care when sometimes I don’t!
The thing I like about AA is that the things that are said—usually, not always—are of consequence. The reason for this is most people are sharing their feelings about life and death circumstances. They come to meetings because they are trying to heal themselves and at the same time, share their experience, strength and hope with everyone there. It is an amazing process that almost always energizes and enriches.
Carl Jung actually called AA the most significant movement in the 20th Century. I certainly agree. I only wish it somehow could reach others that are not necessarily alcoholics but are in just as much need of a program of recovery.
And in the process of self-discovery I begin to realize I am part of everything there is in this world, this universe. The more I discover, the more that is revealed, the less there is that remains hidden. It’s as if there is nothing I am not a part of.
As a result of this, I have begun to feel empathy for my fellow travelers on this planet. How could I not if I am seeing everyone as a part of me?
God’s children begin to recognize each other because each one of us reacts to being loved. The way we respond to love by returning love. When someone comes at us with a clenched fist, we react to it by defending ourselves—by raising our own fists. Our other option is to turn and run. But when someone comes to us with a loving heart, it would be very unusual if we reacted with anger. Love begets love.
But that is what we are doing. We are simply finding the love within our hearts. Beyond that, there is little more to do. Our job is simply to love our selves and when we do that, it is easy to love others. Doing this simple thing we will conquer the world. There is no weapon able to destroy our love.
I hope I never tire of seeking knowledge. Packing up some books today for our move I came across a tiny dark blue one (about 3 inches square) written by Paramahansa Yogananda with the intriguing title "How You Can Talk With God."
When I first read "Autobiography of a Yogi" in the 1960’s, Yogananda inspired me in a way few others ever have. His is one of the clearest voices on this planet speaking about self-realization.
Today I sat down on the bedroom floor and opened this little book. As I read his wonderful words it felt like taking a drink of cool spring water feels after taking a long hike up a mountain. The first of gulp of knowledge began to quench my thirst. Listen to this and see if you feel the same: "The glory of God is great. He is real and He can be found.... silently and surely, as you walk on the path of life, you must come to the realization that God is the only object. The only goal that will satisfy you; for in God likes the answer to every desire of the heart."
Lately, during every day that passes I thank God for all He has blessed me with. I feel I have learned what Yogananda speaks about—that God is the only goal. But more than that, God, when we realize Him, is all there is. He is even part of the search for the goal. It is as if He is guiding us back towards himself in our search.
God’s Grace is always with us. We recognize it as a feeling of warmth and safety in the middle of this sometimes frightening and anxious world.
God’s Grace. It is what guides us.
I have a story to tell. My story is the representation, in words, of my life. More importantly, my story is my way of knowing WHO I AM. I believe my goal in life is simple: to discover who I am so I will become as "fully realized" as I can. WHO WE ARE is not an event in time; it is a process. Each day we live—each hour, each minute that we are awake—we are getting closer to who we are, to our essential nature. It’s just that, if we don’t write about it, it is more difficult to see!
Telling our stories is a wonderful way to become more self-aware. It is so very simple because our stories really ARE who we are. We need only to tell the truth. The truth reveals who we are.
I begin each day by writing. It doesn’t matter what I write. There are no rules. There should be no inhibitions, no boundaries. I write whatever is in my mind. If it is something so personal that I don’t want others to read, then I don’t let them read it. But still, I’ve written it—exposed it to the light—for me to look at. Which is the point. The point is that it’s SELF discovery, not SOMEONE ELSE discovery.
Each time I write I reveal myself a little more. Simply by putting my thoughts onto paper I am able to look at them. After some years spent doing this, I am beginning to see the whole picture of me.