Life Everlasting

Some ten years ago I felt compelled to write to a former dear friend of mine about a wrong that I had done to him over twenty years ago. I knew at the time of the action that what I was doing was wrong but in my youthful arrogance I ignored my better judgment and behaved in a manner that I knew was wrong. My letter to my friend was humbling to write and heart-felt in content. I did more than say “I’m sorry” I asked for his forgiveness.

My friend was very gracious. He promptly wrote back and communicated the he held no ill will and that, indeed, he had forgiven me. Of course, I was relieved. But then he said something that I have considered and reconsidered ever since. He said he was “so pleased to know that the real Greg, the kind, caring Greg was back.” I was intrigued by his comment because although I had certainly behaved in a manner that I deemed as wrong I knew the “real Greg” had never left. The real Greg had been present at all times regardless of the behavior I demonstrated. Even in the midst of my regretful actions the “kind, caring Greg” was there, observing.

It was in that moment that I realized a fundamental part of me had not participated in the wrongdoing although most certainly I had acknowledge my regret. I had to “own up to what I had done” although, at some level, I wondered if I really “owned what I had done.”

In the book of Romans the Apostle Paul says, “I do not understand my own actions.” He then laments, “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” He too seemed to be speaking to this dual nature. The participant self doing what he wished not to do and the observer regretting but unable to control these actions. Cultures and religions from every corner of the Earth and from ancient times forward have often spoken in metaphoric terms of this apparent bi-focated human experience.      

So what is this strange experience? And what of the “real Greg” (ME) who, from what I had experienced, was there all along in spite of and with no influence over the actions I later regretted?

Now, lest you should wonder, I’m not one to avoid responsibility. Most who know me would say that, if anything, I take too much responsibility. But I know the whole idea of “real Greg” (ME) not being in control of what I did seems like I’m saying that my behavior wasn’t my fault. And I am. That’s right, my experience was that “real Greg” (ME) wasn’t able to change the scenario of my life and so how could I be responsible? “Real Greg” (ME) never would have done what I did. But it was a part of my human experience nevertheless. And as regretful as it was many delightful things have come from this regretful experience.

We say, “I don’t know what I was thinking!” or “What have I done?” These are statements of this experience and all of us, if truthful, would have to admit that they’ve had such experiences and have said these things. I believe, if you stop and consider, you will see how these are universal experiences.   

The “real Greg” (ME) is never changing or, in other words, everlasting. While my human experience is limited my spiritual experience, the soul, is constant and never changing. This is that part of my experience that observes the participating Greg (I) but does not have control. This is what those who truly know me would say is the “real Greg.” This is my essential nature at the level of my soul. 

We live in the sensory determined perceptual world. We are inclined to see ourselves as our actions. And while our actions are certainly a manifestation of our God-given Earthly individual expression it is far from who we really are. And then once in a while we encounter a “thin place.” This is a moment when the vale between our human experience and the spiritual reality is translucent may be even transparent. That’s when our spiritual nature is briefly free from our humanness and we realize that we do not control events. We’ve glimpsed the essence of our selves, the soul, the everlasting. And in this aspect we are at one with All-in-allness. 

Only our soul is everlasting. All else, all that is perceived, is ever-changing. We must not mistake the ever-changing for the everlasting. Only when living from the soul can we experience, even fleetingly, our true nature – Everlastingness. This is only one manifestation of the soul’s nature. These experiences are evidence of the soul.

It is here, in living from the soul, that we are one with the Divine. We share this characteristic, everlastingness, with All-in-allness. In the soul we are, as Jesus said, one with the Father. He was clear that he was not the Father yet one with the Father. He wasn’t talking of just himself. He never talked about how life was for him to the exclusion of how it was to be experienced by us.

These experiences are common enough that they are regarded as curious but perhaps devalued because they don’t really fit with the rest of our life experience. And that is exactly the point! Because they don’t fit, because they are not sensory based, because they do briefly transport us beyond the perceptual plane they are more, not less, significant.

We must pay attention to them. They are too easily dismissed; we must remember to remember them. After all, this is evidence of our soul. It is a hint that we are already in eternity. And it is a fore-telling of where we are headed. This is a soul experience.

And by the way, the amend that I made to my old friend, well “real Greg” (ME) takes no credit for that humbling, reconciling action either. If my life scenario is beyond my control then this too is an observation of the God-given life experience, my individuality. It would be as if the Apostle Paul were saying, “I do not understand my own actions. I do not do what I hate, but I do the very thing I want.” The process of God living in and through us operates the same both ways. To God be the Glory for all things whether I like them or not!

Thirty Five Years and Thirty Five Minutes?

The other evening I checked out Tom Brokaw’s television special on the baby boomers. I am a boomer so I have an inherent interest. He went back more than thirty five years to the late sixties and early seventies to review what boomers had experienced in their adolescence and early adulthood and to consider how those experiences had affected them.

He highlighted the impact that the assassinations of JFK, Bobby Kennedy and MLK had on my generation. He spent a significant chunk of time on the message boomers sent with that massive love-in, drug-fest, rock and roll concert called Woodstock. Of course he covered the effects of the Vietnam War and the anti war protests as well as the Kent State shootings. As I sat watching a chronicle of the defining moments of my early life I had this strange sense that while 35 years had passed I was still twenty and really no time had elapsed at all. It was a sort of time warp.

I’ve had these experiences before. I think most people have. There is the sense that we are watching life more than living it. Actually the television show, Cold Case, uses make-up and photographic techniques to create this illusion of the passing of time. It must be fairly common for there to be a popular TV series such as this.

Then this past weekend I was driving down a familiar highway listening to Coldplay. I considered pulling off on an exit but, for a few seconds, I had no idea where I was. Last thing I remember I was passing Grissom Air Force base. Next thing I know I’m more than a half hour up the road with no memory of anything in between and no conscious awareness of how I got there. This experience I know has happened to most of us. It’s thought to be a type of hypnoid experience.

Why is it we have such a strange relationship with time? We say, “Where did the time go?” or “It seems like just yesterday that I was graduating” or “Don’t worry middle-age will be here before you know it.” The Apostle Paul said, “Life is as a vapor.” We obviously don’t have a good grasp on time.

We live in the sensory determined perceptual world. Most of the time we live by and are surrounded with reminders of time: schedules, calendars, clocks and watches. And then once in a while we encounter a “thin place.” This is a moment when the vale between our human experience and the spiritual reality is translucent may be even transparent. That’s when our spiritual nature is briefly free from our humanness and time does not mark events. We’ve glimpsed the timeless, the eternal.

And this is our soul. Only our soul is eternal. All else, all that is perceived, is temporal. So only when living from the soul can we experience, even fleetingly, the timeless. This is only one but perhaps the most common manifestation of the soul’s nature. These experiences are evidence of the soul.

It is here, in living from the soul, that we are one with the Divine. We share this characteristic, timelessness, with All-in-allness. Now, we are not the Divine nor are we even divine but, in the soul, we are at one with the Divine. As Jesus said, “I and the Father are one.” He was clear that he was not the Father yet one with the Father. He wasn’t talking of just himself. He never talked about how life was for him to the exclusion of how it was to be experienced by us.

These experiences are common enough that they are regarded as curious but perhaps devalued because they don’t really fit with the rest of our life experience. And that is exactly the point! Because they don’t fit, because they are not sensory based, because they do briefly transport us beyond the temporal plane they are more, not less, significant.

We must pay attention to them. Not that there is a message in the content of the event. There isn’t. The fact that I was listening to Coldplay and exiting at a certain junction on the highway means nothing. Too many people try to figure out what is being communicated to them.

But the message is simple. Because we are freed from the oppressiveness of the relentless march of time these experiences are confirming of our true nature. Too easily dismissed, we must remember to remember them. After all, this is evidence of our soul. It is a hint that we are already in eternity. And it is a fore-telling of where we are headed. This is a soul experience.

Anguish is an inevitable experience in our human experience. It is universal and ubiquitous. It is also known as misery. Although it is subtle it underlies our everyday experience. On the surface we look all right. We smile, joke and seem to have our wits about us but if we are really honest we sense something is just not right.

Anguish is one of the reasons we frantically search for distraction. Eat more, drink more, work harder, buy more things but, above all, stay busy. Patients tell me that they can’t afford to be in quiet solitude for fear of the overwhelming uneasiness. Some call it anxiety. Others call it depression. But is it really either? They come for treatment. But is it a psychomedical problem or is it anguish?

We set ourselves up to experience anguish when we consider the quality of our lives to be directly related to the intelligence and perseverance of the personal effort we bring to it. We assume we are to learn from our mistakes; therefore unpleasant or unexpected situations and experiences inevitably raise the question of some flaw or failure on our part. We fall prey to deep-seated perception of chronic “too-little and too late,” which re-enforces the concept that if only we had known something that we did not know or if only we had done something that we did not do, the outcome would have been compatible with our expectations. We would then not appear to ourselves to be so lacking.

This concept of perfection taunts us. If only we had tried harder or been better. If only we could have been in exactly the correct place at exactly the right time, this personal power and control, which we indeed believe we ought to possess if we were fully adequate, would be ours. The disparity between that which we experience ourselves to be and this illusion of personal perfection haunts us and appears to reflect weakness and personal flaw. The flaw is repugnant and the source of frustration and shame. This is anguish.

Our continuous push for social approval, for self-confidence, and good self-image suggests that this process is going on behind the scenes. We think ourselves inadequate and we strive to fix us. Unfortunately within this type of atmosphere individuality, personal uniqueness, is often taken as evidence of this basic flawed condition and the most profoundly individual elements of our make-up are cast in the light of a personal pathology, a fault, a weakness. We are pitted against self, our ideal fighting our manifest nature. We are fragmented. We are in anguish. And we are miserable. This is no way to experience living.

“…the knowledge of the heart, the unified center of the inner life is the instinct that carries us upward…without it religion remains an uncertain struggle.”
Pascal

There is a center. Every one of us has a center. In the center, our center, there is “peace that passes all understanding,” a joy beyond description, and wisdom of a divine quality.

There is that of God in every one. We are all made in God’s image yet even more He resides with us. God is so close that we most often take the Divine presence for granted. Rarely will He somehow manifest directly before our senses in the perceptual world. But it is then that we “see” Him. In fact, He’s always been there.

God’s indwelling is experienced most profoundly at our center. As we slow down, quiet down, center down and open our selves to “knowing” we experience His presence as surely as we breath.

The Inward Light exists with all and for all. It is Christ, the Messiah, in all. Jesus brought us the way to the center, to that of God in all of us.

Even before Jesus lived on this planet Christ, the Messiah, lived in each and every person, always holding the promise of peace, joy, wisdom and, of course, salvation, in this life and the next, through reunion with our Heavenly Father. Because we have been seduced and continue to be seduced by our desire for control, to play god, we don’t “see” Him although he’s right there. Jesus came, divinity in a physical form, so that we, the blind, might see.

In the quiet, the solitude, and contemplation, with appreciation for His sovereignty and the ever-present intimacy we become aware, some say awakened, to the presence, God’s presence. And inevitably our consciousness, our focus of faith is changed. We “see” that all comes from Him. We give up our illusions of control. We are undeniably and unalterably changed.

“God is like your kindly old physics professor.” Considering my dislike for physics I find the word “kindly” to be incompatible with the study of physics. The Hobbit is an engineer by training, a Purdue University mechanical engineer at that. He
enjoys and understands physics. He often speaks of the “physics of consciousness.”

Truth is I didn’t try very hard at physics. It really never captured my interest. Psychology, now I was fascinated by psychology. Much of what he says I eventually understand but this “physics of consciousness” business is different.

Now, he also says, “Jesus was God’s audio-visual” of what life is really all about. I get the idea of an audio-visual. Actually, I’ve always thought that Jesus’ life was more the point than his death and resurrection. But I think I’m in the minority on that one. Don’t get me wrong, I think his final three days and his forty days on earth after his death are a critical part of the whole story but may be not the most critical.

His life was about consciousness. Consciousness is the scientific word for spirit. His life was about communicating that there is more to life than our physical being, our desires, our impulses. There’s more than just our senses. There’s more than just this existence. His life was about how we are to be reflective. And it was about how to live from the spirit while we’re here.

He actually didn’t talk much about what happens after life. Life after death has not been a major issue for Jews, including Jesus. He is a Jew.

Then “it” happened! I received Brian Green’s The Fabric of the Cosmos for my birthday. When I got it I must admit I was puzzled by the gift. Oh yes, I had watched a couple of DVDs of The Elegant Universe, another of his books. And yes, I had found them fascinating but to read a book written by a physicist? I doubt it. Remember, physics never captured my interest.

So the book has been sitting on my desk. I’ve thumbed through it a couple of times but found no fascination there. Then, this morning, for no “apparent” reason I picked it up and opened it to a chapter on space-time. Wow! For just a little while the subjects of consciousness, spirituality, quantum physics and psychology coalesced.

“We’re not really in control of our life’s scenario,” says the Hobbit “it just appears that way.” I must admit it certainly appears that way to me, so much so that I find this idea implausible. He says, “the physics of the universe are such that we cannot be in control or else God would have to be fragmented from himself and that’s impossible. So at any given moment you are experiencing the fabric of your life coming through you, but you are not creating or doing anything, it is not coming from you, no matter how it appears.”

I’ve been thinking that I need to talk with the Hobbit about this. It really poses a problem in that it’s just not “common sense.” It’s too hard to believe and too hard to explain to others. It’s wonderful theology, you know God is omnipotent and all, but it just can’t be born out by our experience of life and most certainly not by science or anything else objective.

Then Brian Greene came along. This world-class quantum physicist says, “We are all within space-time. Every experience you or I ever have occurs at some location in space at some moment of time.” He goes on to explain that on the space-time continuum if you were able to change your position you’d be able to “examine all the coming and goings on planet earth.” You could therefore theoretically be any place at any time and experience the event.

It is the mind, the light of consciousness, which provides the illusion of a flow of events. Actually, all events are happening simultaneously. There is, according to the quantum physicist, no flow. Each moment simply is.

Of course, Greene goes on to explain that even if you could visit another space and time you could not change anything unless your changing it was a part of the event. In other words, you are not in control of any event on the space-time continuum including the moment you are experiencing right now. So the quantum physicist and the Hobbit agree, “We’re not really in control of our life’s scenario. It just appears that way.”

Oh kindly physics professor, thank you! Now my spiritual position, as explained by the Hobbit, and my scientific position, as explained by Dr. Greene, are more consistent.

By the way, the moment you are experiencing right now actually happened anywhere from a nanosecond to several minutes to, in the case of star gazing, many years ago. The stars you looked at last evening might not even exist anymore. You are seeing the light that left the star years ago. Of course, we have all come to understand the speed of light and how we’re always seeing what was but not what actually is. Our perception, because of a lapse in time, is always slightly behind the events. We never actually see what is happening right now!

So Jesus has always lived. It must be so because not only does that Bible tell us that but also so does quantum physics. And he lives today. Not only does the Bible tell us that but also so does quantum physics. And what of his resurrection? Well, we’ll all be resurrected. The Bible tells us there is a life beyond this and, since every moment is a “living moment” according to the physicists, so does science.

One more thought. Jesus is the audio-visual of God’s reality. The resurrection of Jesus although cool was not, if you accept the Bibles position or that of quantum physics, anything other than what we should expect. But the fact that roughly five hundred people who saw Jesus after his resurrection, now that was the mystery and the miracle. They experienced something that humans don’t routinely experience. They experienced Jesus alive in another space and time yet still in their space and time. Now this is really some lesson from the “kindly old physics professor.”

This must have been for them a sort of “born again” experience. Think of it. To see into another space-time or to have another space-time invade your space-time now that would be a rebirth of sorts, wouldn’t you say? Whoa! I like this kind of physics.

Jesus came for “ME.” Not “I” but “ME.”

“ME” is soul. My soul is the point, the very first moment, of consciousness or awareness of life, before any perception, before any actual sensory experience. Never seen, always present but largely unrecognized, my soul is nothing that “I” am.

Everything “I” am is worldly. “I” is created. Just as all that I see, hear, touch, smell and taste was created. Of course, all that is created has a beginning and an ending. And in the middle is entropy, that gradual process of deterioration and decay. Death!

My soul, “ME,” was not created. No entropy, no decay. No death! Scriptures say God knew me before the world was created. So “ME” was before creation.

“I” struggles to understand and control this existence. “I” serves my senses. “I” fights death everyday. “I” is inevitably exhausted. “I” is fighting a losing battle.

Jesus had a different message, a new vision. I accept Jesus and his message. His message was for “ME.” His message was the message of salvation.

His vision was simple! Love God with all your heart (emotions), mind (belief) and soul (“ME”) and your neighbor as yourself. Notice He said nothing of living from our senses, nothing of doing or accomplishing anything.

Let’s see. “ME” is beyond perceptual experience. Therefore, “ME” doesn’t see difference only similarities, soul-to-soul relationship, Unity. “ME” doesn’t put my faith in anything that “I” perceives. After all, all things perceptual are relative. They deteriorate, decay and die.

The more I live from “ME” the more I embrace Jesus and the more I love. It has to be so. For “ME” there is only love. There is nothing to fear. There is only love.

As I live beyond my senses I find greater intimacy with God. You might say I “know” Him more. And as I know Him better I have greater intimacy with others. And as I have greater intimacy with Him and others then I “know” myself better.

Of course, it works the other way too. If I “know” myself better I’ll “know” Him better and I’ll have greater intimacy with others. Or if I can love others more I’ll “know” Him more and myself too. See it’s all about the soul, it’s about “ME.”

Jesus came for “ME.” Jesus loves “ME.” Salvation is through accepting the vision of Jesus for “ME.” What a savior!

There are, for me, two levels of living. One level is perceptual, all things sensual. This aspect of my experience is referred to as “I.” This is persona. It is that which I see of myself in the world. For many years persona, “Greg,” was all that I knew myself to be.  

I had a number of other “different” experiences. The first of these experiences occurred when I was about five years old. Others occurred sporadically through out my life. They were not perceptual but yet were real experiences.  

These experiences were of such a nature that I was confronted with the undeniable fact that some other process was acting through me with which I was not perceptually in touch.  

This “otherness” seemed to operate with a wisdom and foresight well beyond my own, and appeared to be free of the conventional assumptions that I hold for myself. As I look back on my life history it would seem that this “otherness” flavored my entire life and represents a continuous theme – a theme that on a few occasions presented itself with such clarity that it had to be “seen” by Greg, by “I.”

Eventually “I”, Greg, discovered “ME.” “ME” of course always knows “I,” and can in fact never lose touch with “I.” Yet “I” continually loses touch with “ME.” “I” reflexively believes I am in charge of steering my own course through life. “ME” is soul and knows better. 

As a painting is an expression of the artist, so too is the “I” persona an expression of the much larger “ME.” A spiritual awakening would suggest that Divinity, through “ME,” finds expression within the human arena as Greg (“I”).  

“I” has its own particular signature, and that signature is significant; however, in no way need it resemble the reality and shape of the “ME” behind it. “ME” as essence is of the same quality for all of us. Every individual has soul and is both absolutely unique and absolutely equal to every other individual. Each individual, each “ME,” wears a different “I” suit for this human experience.  

When one is awakened to the existence of “ME,” we are more likely to leave “flatland.” This transformation in spiritual vision invites our concern to shift from an interest in the “who” of one’s self, the “I”, to an interest in the “what” of self. This shift of interest includes also the “what” of others and the “what” of God. When we have a closer relationship with ourselves, we also have a closer relationship to God and to other individuals. 

This human experience is essentially a spiritual experience. This means to me that cause, for any and every moment and regarding any and every thing, must be spiritual. All that we can ever experience in perception is a manifestation of the spiritual dimension.  

“ME” does not live within the body but rather infuses the body. “ME” really can’t be seen by us in this worldly situation, because it is essentially spiritual. Our focus of perception is through “I”; however, that “I” is not the “location” of soul. Soul is just not to be identified with “I.”

We are spiritual beings whose perceptual focus has entered into worldliness. As is said, “We are spiritual beings having a human experience not human beings having a spiritual experience.” With this entering into worldliness, we have lost our awareness of both our true identity and an appreciation of the dynamics of spirituality. It appears that we are free standing creatures who must make our way in this world by our own efforts.   

Reflexively our focus of faith is fully in the belief that the circumstances can and should be altered by me (“I”). So we struggle with life as a series of problems that must be solved rather than life as a mystery to be appreciated. If only we could appreciate the mystery. If only we could watch and experience the “I” without ever being captivated by the perceptual circumstances of “I”. Then, but only then, we would have Unity with God and others. And only then would we have peace.
 

Adapted from Blumenthal, D. L. and Sipes, G.P. Transformation of the Soul, Vol. II. (Bloomington, Indiana: Authorhouse), p. 89-92.

Now I see! I was blind but now I see. Losing your life in order to find your life. For the first time in my life I have a glimpse of this! Oh, this is so very rich.

It never made sense to me before. I understood the concept of losing your life of materialism in order to find your life of the spirit but how to do so always seemed vague. Oh, sure I understand living a life of simplicity but that can be legalistic. I dread legalism.

Actually, I think it’s vague to everyone, all of us, but we’re afraid to admit it. What if some one stood up in church and said “Hey pastor, tell me how this happens.” The answer would be something like, “Empty yourself of your self and open up to the Holy Spirit.” What?! That’s opaque at best, nonsense at worst.

This idea of losing self to truly find self is a cool idea but how does it happen? I wish I could do it but it seems unattainable. I’ve seen others who claim to know the experience but somehow I’m not sure I’ve ever really seen it.

And for some reason when I consider all of this I’m led to wonder why it is that I often get a lump in my throat, tear up or get goose bumps when I hear the song Amazing Grace? It doesn’t matter if I hear the tune and the words or just the tune and it doesn’t matter whose playing it or singing it. I just can’t help it and I don’t even know what grace is.

The song has universal appeal. I’ve heard it played in places where no one would dare broach the subject of religion for fear of a riot but everyone becomes quiet and still at the sound of Amazing Grace.

No one can define grace because it’s not possible to put it in to words. It’s beyond cognition and therefore it’s beyond words and explanation. But it’s real and at some level we understand it even though we can’t explain it. I have seldom, if ever, seen it. That’s strange.

And somehow I think this losing your life to find it and this grace thing are related to each other. Both are so appealing but neither seems very attainable and both are clearly beyond words.

Today I was mowing the lawn. Right next to the phenomenally gorgeous tulip bed in full spring color it just hit me. I saw it for the first time. I mean I really saw it.

Losing my life is refusing to put my faith in my perceptual, my sensory experience of life. Oh, my life is a true experience, true enough. But it’s not an experience of Truth.

I can live my life as if this experience is what it’s all about or I can remember that anything I perceive, anything and everything I perceive, is not me. It can’t be because if I perceive it then there must be a perceiver doing the perceiving, an observer. It’s that subject-object thing where all perception requires a subject and an object. All experiences are the object of my subjective perceptions.

So, if I perceive my actions, my thoughts and even my feelings who is doing the observing? And that’s the point. I must lose my faith in my life of perception in order to gain my faith in my life of Truth. I am that which is beyond all of my perception. My experience of life is a gift. Perceived by me but most certainly not done by me or owned by me. Of course, it couldn’t be any other way!

And what does this mean about grace. Well, I was taught that, I am saved by grace and not by works. Works are perceptual. They are observed. Grace is beyond perception. Grace is an experience I have that can’t be observed. It can be known but not observed. It’s nothing I can do, or think, or say, or feel, or be. All of those things are perceptions and therefore works. Grace can’t be perceived or expressed. It is with me at the point of me the perceiver, the observer, never me the perceived.

As long as I focus on what I see, my observations, I am blind. Only when I am beyond my perception do I finally see. So that’s what it means: “Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now I’m found. Was blind but now I see.” Now, that is amazing!

Life is like a ride on a bus. We are embarking on a journey that we must take to a place that we have never been before. I am three or four years old and seated next to the driver in a special child’s seat. I have before me a toy steering wheel connected to absolutely nothing. The driver is a great guy who loves kids, and me especially. He talks with me during the ride of routes, road conditions, almost as if he needed my consultation. I hold my toy wheel and pretend to drive the bus along with him.

Sometimes I get so carried away that I get almost upset that I’m carrying all if this “responsibility.” At those times he will turn to me and say, “I’ve got it, son. You might even want to close your eyes until this section of the road is past!” It is sometimes so easy to forget that I am not in the slightest way responsible for the trip. I have no control at all, not even a little bit! My toy steering wheel is just not connected to anything at all! I could even throw it out of the window and make not the first bit of difference to the course of the bus. The driving is entirely in the driver’s hands even if he puts his driver’s hat on my head. It would, of course, fall down over my ears, but I would be proud to wear it. Still I am not the driver.

The fact that I am in no way responsible for the trip does not at all mean that this is a trivial experience. My relationship to the driver is of utmost significance. The game of playing driver or helper is a vehicle for that relationship. The essence of what is occurring between us utilizes the structure of the unfolding events to be transmitted. There is great substance in the experience, even though there is no truth to its literal content.

As I stand by the steps and shake the hands of the departing passengers with the driver’s cap over my eyes and ears and receive their thanks for a smooth ride, I know this: I did not drive the bus. Yet I am contented, and the knowledge that it is a game bothers me not at all.

There is another position that I might occupy during the bus journey. In the driver’s compassion and wisdom, he might suggest that I leave the seat next to him. He will escort me to a seat further back in the bus and give me a coloring book to play with. That is another type of experience, which is a vehicle for another aspect of driver-passenger relationship.

Still again I often am captured by a fit of tantrum and fall out in the aisle of the bus crying and holding my breath and hitting my head on the floor! In rage and frustration and intense turmoil of confusion I can carry on … and usually do at least once a day. The driver is still in charge. The bus is still going on its way with no disturbance whatever. The driver loves me as much as when I am sitting next to him. It is no problem for him to tend the bus and watch after me. He shepherds me as always. Of course, I am out of touch with him. I am feeling desperate and in pain, yet in truth, all is totally all right. My subjective experience is nightmarish; it is profoundly real as an experience, yet completely empty of truth.

Whether I am playing assistant driver or working on my coloring book or throwing a temper tantrum in the aisle, the bus is fully on course. The driver’s relationship to me in each mode is fully intact. The quality of my participation in that relationship, however, is very different.

In the midst of plenty I can focus my faith in the belief that I am in hell. On the other hand, that same moment could be as if I were virtually sitting at the right hand of God. The truth of the situation does not depend on the subjective experience but upon my focus of faith. My faith can be in the relationship with the driver, who always possesses the power, regardless of the circumstance.

What peace there is in this! Just relax and leave the driving to the Lord!

Adapted from Blumenthal, David L. and Sipes, Gregory P. Transformation of the Soul, Volume I. Bloomington, Indiana, AuthorHouse, 2008.

Why can’t I just relax? Just be myself? Can I ever be comfortable with the way I am without flinching, wishing that I would have been different, that I wouldn’t be the way I am?

I know that at my core, in my “self,” I am whole, complete, Divinely inspired and my life is a gift. I also “know” that if others could only know the real me, what some would call the authentic me, then I’d know who I can really trust and I’d be able to relax and just be comfortable with what ever I was made me to be. 

Of course no one can see the real me. I can’t even see the real me. It is, by definition, beyond perception. The self perceives but it can’t be perceived. I can only live from it and not even all of the time but at least part-time.

If I could only appreciate the persona I’ve been given. But I fight it. It’s not that I fight being what ever it is I am, it’s that I fight that I am what I appear to be. Too often it’s not to my liking.

Yet there’s a part of me that I “know” and it is beyond all perception and any circumstance and has been with me in every situation from the beginning of time. What is this? That’s “me.” That part of my experience of life, when I can embrace it, is peaceful, even joyful at times. 

The Hobbit calls this the Intimate Stranger. He says this experience of your “self” has been with you always. Everything you’ve ever experienced whether physical, emotional, cognitive or behavioral has been witnessed by the Intimate Stranger.

He encourages me to consider that there is an experience of my “self” that has been the same when I was five, fifteen or twenty-five, is the same now and will be the same when I’m seventy-five years old. Regardless of circumstance or age this part of me is always the same, never changing. 

Obviously this is why the Hobbit calls this part of me the Intimate Stranger. It’s intimate but it’s a stranger to me. It’s always with me, closer than a best friend, yet less familiar than some one I’ve never met.

This must be the soul. When we experience the Intimate Stranger we’re living from the soul and in the spirit. We “awaken” to this experience of spirit. Eastern faiths call this enlightenment. Here in the West it’s called being “born again.” We are born of the spirit, never to be the same. Our souls are saved from the darkness of material existence that is exclusive of the inward light of spirit.   

The Hobbit says, “don’t get captivated by circumstance.” I didn’t understand this for a long time. But now I think may be I’m beginning to. As I’m more familiar with the Intimate Stranger my life circumstance is something I observe rather than own.

The Intimate Stranger has to be the “real me” and what I’m observing has to be experience that I’m having. To believe that I’m doing it, that I’m in control, is preposterous and impossible. It appears that I am but I’m actually always the same “me” despite the situation or circumstances or regardless of my actions, thought, feelings or any other aspect of life experience that I’m having.  

Jesus came to show me how to live from the Intimate Stranger. He came to show us how to live from the spirit rather than from circumstance. He was the example of reconciliation with Creator. He was the one and only Divine messenger, the only living being ever who never lost sight of at-one-ment with All-in-allness. He brought the vision of atonement with God. And Jesus came to save “me.”