As we enter into the Holiday season, I thought a good way to end the year – this is the last article of the year (I’ll resume with the Masters of Enlightenment series right after the New Year) – is with the above video.
It’s a video montage I created in celebration of the spirit of the Holidays.
It’s an homage to peace, love, trust, hope, belief, and the knowledge that we can make this a better world, a peaceful, sane, healthy and happy world, a Low Density Lifestyle world.
I call it Dream…Believe…Love.
Below is another video that captures the spirit of the Holidays.
This is a song that when it came out in 1971 was branded as radical because it was written and sung by a notorious peace activist, John Lennon. Yet now, the song is heard every year at this time.
And that’s because it tells us of hope – about a world of peace, which is what the Xmas spirit is about, and also what a Low Density Lifestyle world is about. So now the song is a hymn that is heard every Xmas holiday season.
As well it should.
Happy Xmas/War is Over – Thank you John Lennon.
And I want to thank each and every one of you…
Have a wonderful Holiday season, and see you next year.
The series on the Masters of Enlightenment continues today with a profile of the Zen teacher and scholar, Alan Watts.
Alan Watts was born in Chislehurst, England on January 6, 1915 and died at his home in Marin County, California on November 16, 1973.
He was a philosopher, writer, and speaker, and best known as an interpreter and popularizer of Eastern philosophy, especially Buddhism and Zen, for a Western audience.
As a young child in England, Watts had a mystical experience while sick with a fever that left an indelible mark. Also during his childhood, he was exposed to Buddhism and other Eastern influences, along with mystical Christian approaches. He went to college in London, and there met many prominent religious and spiritual teachers.
His biggest influence at that age may have come from going to a lecture from the noted Zen scholar D. T. Suzuki, as afterwards, at the age of 21, Watts published a book entitled The Spirit of Zen.
In 1938, at the age of 23, Watts left England with his wife for New York City, in order to enter into formal Zen training.
Watts left formal Zen training in New York because the method of the teacher didn’t suit him. He was never ordained as a Zen monk, but because he felt a need to find a professional outlet for his philosophical inclinations, he decided to attend a seminary where he graduated as an ordained Anglican (Episcopalian) priest.
While in seminary, he attempted to work out a blend of contemporary Christian worship, mystical Christianity, and Asian philosophy. Because of his far-reaching and eclectic mind, while still in school the pattern was set for Watts, in that he did not hide his dislike for religious outlooks that he decided were dour, guilt-ridden, or militantly proselytizing—no matter if they were found within Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, or Buddhism.
Beginning in 1945 at aged 30, Watts worked as an Episcopalian priest, until he decided to leave the ministry in 1950.
In early 1951, Watts moved to California, where he joined the faculty of the American Academy of Asian Studies in San Francisco. It was at this point that Watts began lecturing on radio and to audiences live, and started building up a following that over the years counted millions of people.
While Watts was noted for an interest in Zen Buddhism, his discussions delved into other subjects that interested him, including Vedanta, the new physics, cybernetics, semantics, process philosophy, natural history, and the anthropology of sexuality.
Over the years he wrote 25 books, and between his books, tape recordings, radio, television, and public lectures, he inspired a generation to re-assess their values.
Overall, his life and work reflects an astonishing adventure: he was an editor, Anglican priest, graduate dean, broadcaster, author, lecturer, and entertainer. He had fascinations for archery, calligraphy, cooking, chanting, and dancing, and still was completely comfortable hiking alone in the wilderness.
He held fellowships from Harvard University and the Bollingen Foundation, and was Episcopal Chaplain at Northwestern University during the Second World War. He became professor and dean of the American Academy of Asian Studies in San Francisco, made the television series “Eastern Wisdom and Modern Life” for National Educational Television, and served as a visiting consultant for psychiatric institutions and hospitals, and for the United States Air Force. In the mid-sixties he traveled widely with his students in Japan, and visited Burma, Ceylon, and India.
Though known for his Zen teachings, he was equally if not more influenced by ancient Hindu scriptures, especially Vedanta, and spoke extensively about the nature of the divine Reality Man that Man misses, how the contradiction of opposites is the method of life and the means of cosmic and human evolution, how our fundamental ignorance is rooted in the exclusive nature of mind and ego, how to come in touch with the Field of Consciousness and Light, and other cosmic principles.
On the personal level, Watts sought to resolve his feelings of alienation from the institutions of marriage and the values of American society.
In looking at social issues, he was quite concerned with the necessity for international peace, for tolerance and understanding among disparate cultures.
In several of his later publications, especially Beyond Theology and The Book on the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are, Watts put forward a worldview, drawing on Hinduism, Chinese philosophy, pantheism, and modern science, in which he maintains that the whole universe consists of a cosmic self playing hide-and-seek, hiding from itself by becoming all the living and non-living things in the universe, forgetting what it really is; the upshot being that we are all IT in disguise.
In this worldview, Watts asserts that our conception of ourself as an “ego in a bag of skin” is a myth; the entities we call the separate “things” are merely processes of the whole.
Watts’ work remains vital to this day, because the topics he covered are timeless in nature. One social critic, Erik Davis, notes the freshness, longevity, and continuing relevance of Watts’ work today, observing that his “writings and recorded talks still shimmer with a profound and galvanizing lucidity.”
Here, in his own words, is Alan Watts on Nothingness:
The idea of nothing has bugged people for centuries, especially in the Western world.We have a saying in Latin, Ex nihilo nuhil fit, which means “out of nothing comes nothing.” It has occurred to me that this is a fallacy of tremendous proportions.
It lies at the root of all our common sense, not only in the West, but in many parts of the East as well. It manifests in a kind of terror of nothing, a put-down on nothing, and a put-down on everything associated with nothing, such as sleep, passivity, rest, and even the feminine principles.
But to me nothing — the negative, the empty — is exceedingly powerful. I would say, on the contrary, you can’t have something without nothing. Image nothing but space, going on and on, with nothing in it forever. But there you are imagining it, and you are something in it. The whole idea of there being only space, and nothing else at all is not only inconceivable but perfectly meaningless, because we always know what we mean by contrast.
Today I will continue with the profiles by discussing another Master of Enlightenment, Paramahansa Yogananada.
Yogananda was born Mukunda Lal Ghosh on Jan. 5, 1893 in India, and died on March 7, 1952. He introduced many Westerners to the teachings of meditation and Kriya Yoga through his book, Autobiography of a Yogi.
Since the publication of the book in 1946, it has since been translated into twenty-five languages. In 1999, it was designated one of the “100 Most Important Spiritual Books of the 20th Century” by a panel of spiritual authors.
Autobiography of a Yogi describes Yogananda’s spiritual search for enlightenment, in addition to encounters with notable spiritual figures such as Therese Neumann, Anandamoyi Ma, Mohandas Gandhi, Nobel laureate in literature Rabindranath Tagore, noted plant scientist Luther Burbank (the book is “Dedicated to the Memory of Luther Burbank, An American Saint”), famous Indian scientist Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose and Nobel Prize-winning physicist Sir C. V. Raman.
One notable chapter of this book is “The Law of Miracles,” where he gives scientific explanations for seemingly miraculous feats. He writes “the word ‘impossible’ is becoming less prominent in man’s vocabulary.”
Kriya Yoga, which was Yogananda’s core teachings, is a set of yoga techniques that were the main discipline of Yogananda’s meditation teachings. Kriya Yoga was passed down through Yogananda’s guru lineage — Mahavatar Babaji taught Kriya Yoga to Lahiri Mahasaya, who taught it to his disciple Yukteswar, Yogananda’s Guru.
Because of ancient yogic injunctions, “the actual technique must be learned from a Kriyaban or Kriya Yogi”, according to Yogananda. He gave a general description of Kriya Yoga in his Autobiography:
“The Kriya Yogi mentally directs his life energy to revolve, upward and downward, around the six spinal centers (medullary, cervical, dorsal, lumbar, sacral, and coccygeal plexuses) which correspond to the twelve astral signs of the zodiac, the symbolic Cosmic Man. One-half minute of revolution of energy around the sensitive spinal cord of man effects subtle progress in his evolution; that half-minute of Kriya equals one year of natural spiritual unfoldment.”
Yogananda taught his students the need for direct experience of truth, as opposed to blind belief. He said that “The true basis of religion is not belief, but intuitive experience. Intuition is the soul’s power of knowing God. To know what religion is really all about, one must know God.”
Echoing traditional Hindu teachings, he taught that the entire universe is God’s cosmic motion picture, and that individuals are merely actors in the divine play who change roles through reincarnation. He taught that mankind’s deep suffering is rooted in identifying too closely with one’s current role, rather than with the movie’s director, or God.
He taught Kriya Yoga and other meditation practices to help people achieve that understanding, which he called Self-realization:
“Self-realization is the knowing in all parts of body, mind, and soul that you are now in possession of the kingdom of God; that you do not have to pray that it come to you; that God’s omnipresence is your omnipresence; and that all that you need to do is improve your knowing.”
To that end, he founded an organization, The Self-Realization Fellowship, or SRF, to further the cause of self-realization and enlightenment. The Self-Realization Fellowship continues to this day, with branches all over the world; its international headquarters are in Los Angeles, California.
Yogananda’s international reputation had its beginnings one day in 1920, while meditating at a school he had founded. Yogananda had a divine vision showing him that now was the time to begin his work in the West. He immediately departed for Calcutta, where the next day he was invited to serve as India’s delegate to an international congress of religious leaders convening later that year in Boston. His teacher, Sri Yukteswar, confirmed that the time was right, saying: “All doors are open for you. It is now or never.”
Shortly before his departure, Yogananda was visited by Mahavatar Babaji, the deathless master who revived in this age the ancient science of Kriya Yoga. “You are the one I have chosen to spread the message of Kriya Yoga in the West,” Babaji said to Yogananda. “Long ago I met your guru Yukteswar at a Kumbha Mela; I told him then I would send you to him for training. Kriya Yoga, the scientific technique of God-realization, will ultimately spread in all lands, and aid in harmonizing the nations through man’s personal, transcendental perception of the Infinite Father.”
The young swami arrived in Boston in September 1920. His first speech, made to the International Congress of Religious Liberals, was on “The Science of Religion,” and was enthusiastically received.
That same year he founded Self-Realization Fellowship to disseminate worldwide his teachings on India’s ancient science and philosophy of Yoga and its time-honored tradition of meditation. The first SRF meditation center was started in Boston with the help of Dr. and Mrs. M. W. Lewis and Mrs. Alice Hasey (Sister Yogmata), who were to become lifelong disciples.
For the next several years, he lectured and taught on the East Coast; and in 1924 embarked on a cross-continental speaking tour. Reaching Los Angeles in early 1925, he established there the international headquarters for Self-Realization Fellowship atop Mt. Washington, which became the spiritual and administrative heart of his growing work.
From 1924–1935, Yogananda traveled and lectured widely, speaking to capacity audiences in many of the largest auditoriums in America — from New York’s Carnegie Hall to the Los Angeles Philharmonic Auditorium. The Los Angeles Times reported: “The Philharmonic Auditorium presents the extraordinary spectacle of thousands….being turned away an hour before the advertised opening of a lecture with the 3000-seat hall filled to its utmost capacity.”
Yogananda emphasized the underlying unity of the world’s great religions, and taught universally applicable methods for attaining direct personal experience of God. To serious students of his teachings he taught the soul-awakening techniques of Kriya Yoga, initiating more than 100,000 men and women during his thirty years in the West.
Among those who became his students were many prominent figures in science, business, and the arts, including horticulturist Luther Burbank, operatic soprano Amelita Galli-Curci, George Eastman (inventor of the Kodak camera), poet Edwin Markham, and symphony conductor Leopold Stokowski.
In 1927, he was officially received at the White House by President Calvin Coolidge, who had become interested in the newspaper reports of his activities.
In 1929, during a two-month trip to Mexico, he planted the seeds for future growth of his work in Latin America. He was welcomed by the president of Mexico, Dr. Emilio Portes Gil, who became a lifelong admirer of Yogananda’s teachings.
By the mid-1930s, Paramahansaji had also met quite a few of the early disciples who would help him build the Self-Realization Fellowship work and carry the Kriya Yoga mission forward after his own lifetime was over — including two whom he appointed to be his spiritual successors as president of Self-Realization Fellowship: Rajarsi Janakananda (James J. Lynn), who met the Guru in Kansas City in 1932; and Sri Daya Mata, who had attended his classes in Salt Lake City the previous year.
Other disciples who attended his lecture programs during the 1920s and ‘30s and stepped forward to dedicate their lives to the SRF work were Dr. and Mrs. M. W. Lewis, who met him in Boston in 1920; Gyanamata (Seattle, 1924); Tara Mata (San Francisco, 1924); Durga Mata (Detroit, 1929); Ananda Mata (Salt Lake City, 1931); Sraddha Mata (Tacoma, 1933); and Sailasuta Mata (Santa Barbara, 1933).
Thus, for many years after Yogananda’s passing, and continuing to this day, Self-Realization Fellowship has been guided by disciples who received Paramahansa Yogananda’s personal spiritual training.
On March 7, 1952, Yogananda entered mahasamadhi, a God‑illumined master’s conscious exit from the body at the time of physical death. He had just finished giving a short speech at a banquet honoring India’s ambassador to the United States, Dr. Binay R. Sen, at the Biltmore Hotel in Los Angeles.
His passing was marked by an extraordinary phenomenon. A notarized statement signed by the Director of Forest Lawn Memorial‑Park testified: “No physical disintegration was visible in his body even twenty days after death….This state of perfect preservation of a body is, so far as we know from mortuary annals, an unparalleled one….Yogananda’s body was apparently in a phenomenal state of immutability.”
In years past, Paramahansa Yogananda’s guru, Swami Sri Yukteswar, had referred to him as an incarnation of divine love. Later, his disciple and first spiritual successor, Rajarsi Janakananda, fittingly bestowed on him the title of Premavatar or “Incarnation of Divine Love.”
On the occasion of the twenty‑fifth anniversary of Paramahansa Yogananda’s passing, his far‑reaching contributions to the spiritual upliftment of humanity were given formal recognition by the Government of India. A special commemorative stamp was issued in his honor, together with a tribute that read, in part:
“The ideal of love for God and service to humanity found full expression in the life of Paramahansa Yogananda….Though the major part of his life was spent outside India, still he takes his place among our great saints. His work continues to grow and shine ever more brightly, drawing people everywhere on the path of the pilgrimage of the Spirit.”
“What Krishnamurti has done is to free spiritual life as science has done in other areas. He has maintained that one can be in total freedom from the very beginning to the very end, and he has stood for that, like a rock, for forty years. I think it may well take the world fifty more years to understand that. I think he is the man of tomorrow.” – Vimala Thakar
The series on Spirituality continues with articles about people who were true Masters of Enlightenment.
What I mean by that term is that they were great spiritual teachers, and also people who lived by the creed they spoke.
They were beacons of light, capable of pointing a finger to help us understand the map of reality.
Today, for the first article in this series, I will profile Jiddhu Krishnamurti.
J. Krishnamurti was born May 12, 1895 in India, and died Feb. 17, 1986. He was a radical teacher of enlightenment and the truth.
I say radical because he advised people to break free of their mental shackles and discard dogmas, religions, philosophies, gurus, teachers and theories, and in its place search for the undeniable truth that lies at the heart of reality.
Krishnamurti was relentless in his denouncing of all organized belief, the notion of “gurus,” and the whole teacher-follower relationship. Instead he was single minded in his dedication to the work of setting man absolutely, totally free.
He constantly stressed the need for a revolution in the psyche of every human being and emphasized that such revolution cannot be brought about by any external entity, be it religious, political, or social.
Denouncing the concept of saviors, spiritual leaders, or any other intermediaries to reality, he urged people to directly discover the underlying causes of the problems facing individuals and society.
Such discovery he considered as being within reach of everyone, irrespective of background, ability, or disposition. He declared allegiance to no nationality, caste, religion, or philosophy, and spent his adult life traveling the world as an independent individual speaker, speaking to large and small groups, as well as with interested individuals.
Krishnamurti had first-hand knowledge of gurus and saviors, because he was raised to be a savior – at a young age, he was deemed to be the World Teacher by the Theosophical Society, a quasi-mystical organization founded in New York City in 1875 that had gained prominent international media attention and public interest and was very influential in Indian society.
The Theosophical Society had an estate in India, and in 1909 the 14-year-old Krishnamurti was living on the estate, because his father worked as a clerk for the Society.
Charles Webster Leadbeater was the President of the Society, and he noticed the young boy walking on the grounds. Leadbeater was a clairvoyant, and in the boy he recognized “a spiritual teacher and a great orator,” one likely to be used as the “vehicle for the Lord Maitreya” – the latter, according to Theosophical doctrine, an advanced spiritual entity that periodically appears on earth as a World Teacher to guide the evolution of humankind.
From that point on, Krishnamurti was groomed to be the World Teacher. He was privately tutored in India and Europe, and while in Europe met many prominent, and wealthy, people.
His daily program of studies included rigorous exercise and sports, tutoring in a variety of school subjects, Theosophical and religious lessons, yoga and meditation. At the same time, Leadbeater personally assumed the role of guide in a parallel, mystical instruction of young Krishnamurti.
Over the next few years, Krishnamurti continued his studies, but at the same time began going through a series of mystical and inexplicable life-transforming experiences. He would lapse in and out of consciousness, and described it to others as a “mystical union.” About the experiences he said:
“I was supremely happy, for I had seen. Nothing could ever be the same. I have drunk at the clear and pure waters and my thirst was appeased… I have seen the Light. I have touched compassion which heals all sorrow and suffering; it is not for myself, but for the world… Love in all its glory has intoxicated my heart; my heart can never be closed. I have drunk at the fountain of Joy and eternal Beauty. I am God-intoxicated.”
Over the next few years, these experiences intensified, and these, along with the death of his brother, to whom he was very close, led him to question everything about his journey as the World Teacher. He started changing his teachings and veered from Theosophy, and began to focus on concepts such as questioning authority and liberation, as opposed to following the teachings of any one person.
Finally, in 1929, without any warning, while speaking to the annual meeting of the Theosophical Society in India, he announced that he was disowning his role as World Teacher, and instead would focus on leading people to the unbridled truth. He said in part:
“I maintain that truth is a pathless land, and you cannot approach it by any path whatsoever, by any religion, by any sect. That is my point of view, and I adhere to that absolutely and unconditionally. Truth, being limitless, unconditioned, unapproachable by any path whatsoever, cannot be organized; nor should any organization be formed to lead or coerce people along a particular path.
“This is no magnificent deed, because I do not want followers, and I mean this. The moment you follow someone you cease to follow Truth. I am not concerned whether you pay attention to what I say or not. I want to do a certain thing in the world and I am going to do it with unwavering concentration. I am concerning myself with only one essential thing: to set man free. I desire to free him from all cages, from all fears, and not to found religions, new sects, nor to establish new theories and new philosophies.”
From that moment on, Krishnamurti became his own man, and spoke out on the specifics of enlightenment. He spent the rest of his life holding dialogues and giving public talks around the world on the nature of belief, truth, sorrow, freedom, death, and the quest for a spiritually fulfilled life. He accepted neither followers nor worshipers, regarding the relationship between disciple and guru as encouraging dependency and exploitation.
He constantly urged people to think independently and clearly and free their minds of their own incipient dogmas. “All authority of any kind, especially in the field of thought and understanding, is the most destructive, evil thing. Leaders destroy the followers and followers destroy the leaders. You have to be your own teacher and your own disciple. You have to question everything that man has accepted as valuable, as necessary.”
Included in this was inward authority:
“Having realized that we can depend on no outside authority … there is the immensely greater difficulty of rejecting our own inward authority, the authority of our own particular little experiences and accumulated opinions, knowledge, ideas and ideals.”
Krishnamurti’s home base for the rest of his life was Ojai, California, where he could spend time sequestered in meditation and writing, and communing with nature, which from an early age was one of his passions.
From his home base his insights deepened and his influence grew. He befriended and collaborated with well-known philosophers, writers and scientists, which allowed his audience to broaden.
Over the years, his subject matter included psychological revolution, the nature of the mind, meditation, human relationships, and bringing about positive change in society. Maintaining that society is ultimately the product of the interactions of individuals, he held that fundamental societal change can emerge only through freely undertaken radical change in the individual.
“It seems to me that the real problem is the mind itself and not the problem which the mind has created and tries to solve. If the mind is petty, small, narrow, limited, however great and complex the problem may be, the mind approaches that problem in terms of its own pettiness… Though it has extraordinary capacities and is capable of invention, of subtle, cunning thought, the mind is still petty. It may be able to quote Marx, or the Gita, or some other religious book, but it is still a small mind, and a small mind confronted with a complex problem can only translate that problem in terms of itself, and therefore the problem, the misery increases. So the question is: Can the mind that is small, petty, be transformed into something which is not bound by its own limitations?”
The series on Spirituality continues today with the third and last installment of a three-part book excerpt of the author Betsy Otter Thompson’s book, Walking Though Illusion.
The first excerpt was the preface of the book, while the last excerpt and this one come from chapter 18. So now we continue on from last time with the last segment of chapter 18. At the end of the chapter is a worksheet with questions to ponder and reflect on.
What is our real identity?
NAMES, TITLES, AND PLACES
LOSE THEIR VALIDITY AS SOON AS
YOU LEAVE THE HUMAN PLANE.
THE EMOTION BEHIND THEM
Did Peter’s friends welcome Vrotskuv at the meeting he attended?
Some did; quite a few were resentful. Vrotskuv was a soldier as well as a stranger with nothing to recommend him but his need to find some answers. His constant talk of visions annoyed quite a few, some even questioned whether he’d had one. And those who did believe were envious. Why did this happen to him and not to us? He’s a nobody, while we’ve been following Jesus for years.
Vrotskuv discovered that those who had known me on a daily basis were every bit as individually disposed as those who hadn’t. In fact, several who’d known me as a friend were worried about their complicity in my fate. To appease their guilty consciences, they decided that any action they had or hadn’t taken was excusable since I had help in ways that they did not.
As they believed in special help, they created separation instead of oneness, and oneness with the whole was how I found my help. Unwilling to accept responsibility for their own victim mentality, they looked for someone to blame; Vrotskuv was handy. But even facing their angry accusations, Vrotskuv didn’t back down; he was more concerned with personal growth than impersonal resentment.
Did their feelings of victimization have any other drawback?
Yes, it caused them to forget the properties of spontaneous resurrection: self-responsibility, self-determination and self-enlightenment. As loss overwhelmed them and depression set in, they insisted that I would still be alive if people like Vrotskuv weren’t.
Even though I resurrected to prove I was alive, ego rebutted here as well: Only someone who rose from the dead can be the love of God. And holding this one definition to explain divinity, they lost all faith in themselves. Then, to feel better, they looked for agreement.
What about those who didn’t lose faith?
They were busy enacting their own resurrections.
Yes, but for him, the vision had been emotional; he didn’t see how anyone could successfully challenge that.
What did he learn from the few who were kind to him?
More about himself.
Did Vrotskuv think of you as wise?
Wise for my journey, yes, but he suspected that everyone was the wisdom of God personified in form.
How could all those people have been God?
Who else would God have been?
A divine energy that was met upon their death.
Why would God be revealed to them out-of-form but not in-form? Seeking answers where none existed was the ultimate frustration.
What about the God who greeted them when they died?
God greeted them most assuredly, but as soon as they were met, they knew they’d been this greeter many times themselves. Just as they loved and supported their friends in-matter, they loved and supported them out-of-matter. Some didn’t believe in the notion of God, but everyone knew the feeling of love; and everyone could expand it.
Did Vrotskuv see himself as a sensitive person?
He saw himself as an honest person. If he was cruel, he took responsibility for his cruelty. In his opinion, many followers did not. They rationalized their cruelty, calling it absolute truth. To Vrotskuv, their absolute truth was cruel because it said to others: We have the answer to heaven on Earth and anyone not believing in us will never find it. But anyone who claimed to have the one true answer to heaven on Earth had effectively shut the door to heaven. Heaven was felt through an open, accepting heart.
Yes, and if they knew something he didn’t, he wanted to know them better. He sensed that several hoped to establish more authority by insisting that true believers preached what they preached: that I was the Son of God and no one else was. Vrotskuv honored what he believed instead.
He knew that I had referred to myself as God, but he also knew that I had referred to my friends as God, and my enemies as well. Few were repeating that line. Government retaliation was still an active force. But even after it wasn’t, many followers didn’t want the masses seeing themselves as the same authority they were. Then they had a dilemma. How could they have faith in themselves while telling others that faith in oneself was unwise?
Vrotskuv decided to investigate within, sure in the knowledge that progress would always be obvious by the progress of those around him.
GOD IS THE LOVE WITHIN.
REALITY IS THE LOVE YOU LIVE.
YOU ARE THE EVERYTHING THESE TWO INCLUDE.
Chapter 18 – Identities
In your opinion, what qualities must a person have to live as God in humanness?
Where are some of those qualities being lived?
When those qualities are present, isn’t that person God-like?
When those qualities are absent, has this person suddenly ceased to exist?
Haven’t you learned more about who you want to be from who you don’t want to be?
Questions to Ponder:
- Who inspires me more: a perfect person, or a person overcoming obstacles?
- Who supports me more: a static person, or a person sensing potential?
- Who do I want to be more: a person smugly satisfied, or a person looking for growth?
THE GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT
YOU’LL EVER REACH
IS TO LOVE AND ACCEPT YOURSELF.
I believe that God is a power within–not a power that is only met upon death. If that’s true, it simplifies things, don’t you think? No more dialogues about whose God is valid and whose God is not since every soul is equally valid. No more wars in the name of God since God is you, me, and everyone. No more posturing that God told me to do this and God told me to say that since God isn’t separate from the speaker. No more worries about taking the name of God in vain since you might as well be cursing yourself. No more religions claiming that they have the one true path, since every path that offers a person love is the path of true redemption. No more guilt for breaking God’s rules since the rules we have are the ones we’ve given ourselves.
The last article of this series on Spirituality was part one of a excerpt from the book, Walking Through Illusion, by Betsy Otter Thompson.
Betsy Otter Thompson is the author of a few books, including The Mirror Theory: The Way to Inner Peace, Resolution, and Transformation; Loveparent: How To Be The Parent You Hope To Be; and Lovehuman: How To Be Who You Love.
To visit her website, and/or to order a copy, visit Betsy’s website: http://www.betsythompson.com
In part one of this book excerpt, the Preface to the book was published. In this excerpt, we give you the first part of chapter 18. Next time we’ll have the concluding segment of the chapter.
What is our real identity?
NAMES, TITLES, AND PLACES
LOSE THEIR VALIDITY AS SOON AS
YOU LEAVE THE HUMAN PLANE.
THE EMOTION BEHIND THEM
Names, titles, and places were a part of your experience, though, weren’t they, Jesus?
Part of my illusionary experience, yes, but they didn’t reveal my inner journey, or the search for my reality.
Don’t we know more about your inner journey through the many stories told?
We know more about the inner journeys of the many different story-tellers, since each had a history of individual clarity.
Can those stories be trusted?
Why must they be? Only the love in those stories makes them relevant to you.
Was there an incident that was especially important to you?
There was one that involved a soldier by the name of Vrotskuv, who entered my life to confirm my faith in goodness.
Did Vrotskuv have any faith in you?
He gained more faith as he sensed my faith in him; he was the soldier responsible for delivering prisoners to the sites of their crucifixions. When the people lined the streets that day in loving support of me, they took up a chant to let me know of their presence. Vrotskuv got uneasy. Rightly or wrongly he saw them a threat. One voice inside his head urged him to hurt the heretic if he wanted to feel in charge. The other voice urged him to feel in charge by honoring the heretic.
Brushing the latter voice aside, he looked for an easy insult to show the crowd that he was the one in charge here. His opportunity came when I stopped to assist a fellow prisoner struggling under the weight of his heavy cross.
In the process of helping him to regain his balance, the robe padding my shoulder fell to the ground. Vrotskuv picked it up and stood there, daring me to defy him. Instead of seeing the anger he expected, he saw only love.
Startled, he couldn’t believe the message he was receiving: We are all in charge of ourselves in the love of God forever. Intellectually, it didn’t compute; emotionally, it impacted deeply, so deeply that Vrotskuv was determined to feel it again.
Because he wanted to cherish himself or because he wanted to cherish you?
Somehow they seemed like one and the same. Instead of seeing the thief who lived in Vrotskuv, I saw the God who lived in Vrotskuv and, then, he saw it too. That moment was so powerfully felt that it took a burst of chanting to get him back to the task. For the rest of the day, he thought about that encounter. What had he seen in my eyes that had stirred his emotions so deeply? Irritated that he couldn’t explain it, he grabbed the robe and set out to give it back, hoping a second encounter would clarify the previous one.
As he laid the robe at the foot of the cross and looked in my eyes again, the feeling returned. It deepened into a vision, revealing to him all that he had lived and all that he could live; an all-inclusive moment, neither human nor ethereal, but a feeling merging the two. Factored in time it equaled seconds; factored in emotion, eons.
It came to him, not as a payback for the past but as a blueprint for the future, whether that future was here or elsewhere, now or later, conscious or unconscious. After the vision ended, no words were shared but the message was clear: Welcome home. From that moment forth, everything Vrotskuv did was to keep that moment alive in whatever else he was doing.
In the weeks that followed, he located many of my friends, hoping that one of them would see him as I had. None did, but inadvertently he discovered why. I had accepted him unconditionally, knowing full well who he was and the job he was there to do. My friends accepted him grudgingly; fearful of what would happen to them if they didn’t. But even in the presence of fear and animosity, Vrotskuv courted their acquaintance, willing to endure any rudeness in order to find some answers.
Many introductions later, Vrotskuv convinced Peter to invite him to one of his meetings. It didn’t take long for Vrotskuv to notice a theme that kept recurring: We always find ourselves in the people we face. Pondering what that meant in terms of his interaction with me, he concluded that his heart had merged with mine, and to live that merger again, he had to live that merger with others. He found that union by asking how he’d feel if, every time he looked into the eyes of another, he felt my heart again. Naturally, as he told himself that I was in the every heart he faced, he couldn’t wait to find me there.
Did Vrotskuv feel terrible after stealing the robe?
He felt terrible when his mirror showed up to remind him of his behavior. He only stopped stealing when he knew himself as the person stolen from.
Would he have stopped stealing had he thought his behavior known?
Had he understood that others reacted accordingly, yes. Vrotskuv wanted honest people in his life. In the end, high-minded motives didn’t change his life; his desire to receive the honorable in others did. To stay mindful of his goal, he said to himself as he gave to others, Here is a gift to myself.
When his mirror was insecure, was Vrotskuv insecure?
Until he was honest about it; then honesty replaced insecurity.
Even if that honesty was horrible?
Honesty wasn’t horrible or wonderful; honesty simply was.
What did Vrotskuv learn about prosperity in this lifetime?
He learned that prosperity had more to do with abundance within than abundance without. But if Vrotskuv needed funds for his evolution, funds were made available.
Did he do something wrong if funds were not available?
Not if the right in his life was honored.
Did money come when Vrotskuv did what he loved?
Fulfillment came when he did what he loved. Fulfillment didn’t have any requisite look, only a requisite feeling.
What incentives did Vrotskuv need in order to live more wisely?
Incentives varied. They were anything from a new friend, to a new day, to a new lifetime, depending on what was needed.