So I had that recurring dream last night – the one where I foolishly leave my handbag unattended and moments later my wallet is gone…it happens and then I’m completely lost, set adrift. It’s not so much the money I’m worried about; it’s the driver’s license, the credit cards.
Everything I use to prove I really am who I say I am.
It’s a dream that occurs each time I place another big chunk of my trust in Spirit.
It’s a not-so-friendly shorthand reminder from my unconscious ego mind. A way of warning myself to back off, to quit pushing beyond my egoic comfort zone. To stop trying to see the world through the eyes of Spirit.
Because if I’m learning to trust in Spirit’s interpretation of the world, that means I’m withdrawing part of my belief from the ego mind’s version of the story.
The dream’s details change but the essence is always the same: It’s saying: Better be careful – you’re playing with fire. Get too close to Oneness and you’ll lose your identity for good.
And God knows, that’s a terrifying thought.
But is it true? Of course not.
To reconnect with Oneness is to remember our own truest state. Our real identity. And when we remember what we really are, we will also remember that we are completely safe. Infinitely peaceful. Totally free.
It’s our ego mind that’s in danger of losing the false identity it’s so carefully constructed to hide the truth of what we really are.
But knowing all this intellectually doesn’t really mean anything; when push comes to shove, I for one still thoroughly believe I’m a separate person with an individual mind, living in a 3-D world with lots of other folks in the same predicament.
Until I know and believe in my heart that we’re all One, these teachings of non-duality are all just blah blah blah. And as long as that’s true, then on the deepest unconscious level, the thought of attaining Oneness will continue to be terrifying.
Because who will I be if there’s no more me?
Actually, Spirit has taught me quite a lot on this subject. I freaked out about it in a fairly big way, back when I first realized what a return to Oneness would really entail (see page 190 of my book, in a story aptly titled ‘Freakout’).
That was back in 2006. Since then Spirit has taught me to look closely at the mask identity that the ego provides – the false ‘me’ belonging to each one of us. To really notice how all of us settle for daily unease as a fact of life; to realize that none of us are able to find truly lasting happiness or peace in this world.
We settle, in short, for an ill-fitting meat suit instead of the perfect identity that’s really ours.
There we are. It’s the human condition.
But for those of us who aspire to wake up from this dream of separation, our work is cut out for us: We know we can’t ‘give up’ this individual identity while we still believe in it and find it valuable. Trying is a waste of time – it just doesn’t work that way.
But by allowing Spirit to teach us and gently heal our perception of the world, then our perception of ourselves begins to heal as well.
Until finally, one day we realize that the mask self is nothing at all. It has no value so we willingly let it go – and just like that, it’s gone.
Oh sure, the meat suit is still here, but we’re not fooled by it anymore. We know it isn’t really us. It’s just a vehicle for walking around expressing the truth that we’ve become awakened to: That the state of Oneness is True Self, and no other identity is needed.
Yeah, I greatly look forward to knowing all this with my heart instead of my head.
But in the meantime, has anybody seen my wallet?
Is it still a crisis if it doesn’t hurt?
Here’s something spiritual author types hardly ever tell you: Journeys of faith are messy. Not just yours – ours, too. We just tend to be quieter about it.
See, once you’ve embraced the goal of enlightenment, there really aren’t any reliable signposts anymore, no matter who you are. And that can be a little, um, awkward.
Ever since my book came out (the book in which I unequivocally state that A Course in Miracles is the last teaching I will ever need) I’ve been having the uncomfortable feeling that I may have misstated it a bit.
Don’t get me wrong – as far as I can tell, A Course in Miracles is a pure teaching of ultimate truth. The content is perfect. But I’ve been feeling like the form is not where it’s at for me. And not just ACIM’s form. Any teaching’s form.
It’s like I keep getting prodded in the back – lovingly, gently, but very firmly – by a Heavenly billy club, while NO LOITERING signs repeatedly appear all around me.
Keep moving, lady, nothing to see here.
So it all came to a head a few weeks ago. I got a chunk of Divine inspiration to start working on my next book. If I can pull it off, I’m pretty sure this book will be hugely helpful to a lot of people, but it’s going to require translation skills I don’t possess yet.
It’ll be the essence of A Course in Miracles brought to bear somehow on the earthly concerns of this 3-D dream world. (Tricky, I know. Maybe impossible.) A bridge of sorts, between worlds, for those who don’t yet actively aspire to enlightenment. But it means I have to strike out on my own all over again, to forge yet another new path through the wilderness and leave my cozy ACIM home behind.
Damn it.
So I freaked out a little. A teeny, cosmic WTF moment. (Hey, like I said. It happens.) And since I don’t know anything about anything, I didn’t want to make any moves at all. Not only did I surrender this whole writing/speaking/messengering gig to Spirit, I actually gave it back & walked away from it completely.
Oh, I’m still totally into it. I happily offer this earthly meat suit as a vehicle for Heavenly expression, as long as I’m hanging around here. I just didn’t want to screw around making mistakes of my own anymore.
Show me what I’m supposed to do/say, or else I’m not doing/saying anything. And if that means a few thousand copies of my current book go in the shredder, that’s ok. Or if I blow up and become some giant oddball media figure, that’s ok too. I’m just not doing anything to engineer it.
So, basically, you could say it was a crisis of faith.
Except here’s the funny thing. I spent a few hours drowning in the drama of the whole situation that day, but then late that same night a really unusual thing happened: In one of those trance-like states of nether sleeping nor waking, Spirit spent a really long time speaking to me, and I spent those same hours carefully listening.
But I have no idea what was said. It’s not that I knew at the time but now forget – it’s more like I received the information directly into my life, bypassing my conscious mind altogether.
And when I got up in the morning, I felt no pain. No existential angst, no drama. And since I didn’t know what to do, I peacefully did nothing. (Which, if you know me at all, is a brand new thing.)
So there you have it. I’m still doing nothing. All my beliefs have once again been shaken loose and I have no idea where the hell I’m going. But thanks to Spirit, it’s a very peaceful journey.
And did I mention it’s never boring?
More postcards from the cutting room floor
Here’s another piece that didn’t make the final edit. This was originally the last story in the book, until something came along that I liked better.
Interestingly, this one mentions my next book, which I just started writing yesterday…
SPEECHLESS
A spontaneous prayer in the middle of the night:
I will trust more and take the next step in faith, whatever that next step may be.
Leave words behind when you listen to my Voice.
Note: For more than a year now, I’d been hearing Spirit not as an audible Voice inside my head (“When you’re ready, you’ll write books,” were the last words actually “spoken aloud”) but instead in much richer, broader, more abstract concepts. Whole ideas were presented at once, complete with references to my own experience so I’d grasp the specific, along with the general meaning.
But as these concepts came into my mind, I automatically searched for the most accurate words I could find to express them, and compulsively put both my silent questions and Spirit’s abstract answers into common English. I did this to make sure I understood everything about the message being conveyed, but also to ensure I’d be able to recall the conversation afterward. I have a notoriously Swiss-cheesy memory* and I was afraid these precious communiqués would slip right out of my mind if I didn’t nail them down into human language while they were fresh.
*Kids, don’t do drugs.
Spirit had asked me several times recently to try to hear without shoehorning the communication into words, but I had yet to take the request seriously. I did remember how glorious it felt to communicate without language during that Dinnertable Awakening so long ago, but that time I was a passive sightseer. A tourist. It seemed awfully scary to consciously choose wordless communication now as an authentic state of being.
This is your next step in faith and trust. Put your ego mind aside and bring only your awareness into our exchanges; trust that I know your questions before you ask them. And have faith that My answers will stay within your mind until all need for questions and answers has been transcended forever.
Do this and notice the difference it makes. At first it will feel as though you’ve ‘lost’ your communication channel, but the opposite is actually the case; abstract thought is what you are in truth, so your attempt to return to this form of thinking will actually help remove another of the blocks that keep your communication channel narrow. In truth, limitless communication is what you are – there is no boundary or channel.
To the degree that you are able to allow your obsessive need for language to recede, your ability to hear and understand Me will deepen and become more profound.
Think back to those earlier days when you first began the Barbara Brennan meditations intended to connect you with your “guides”. At that time, you were able to receive only visual symbols, remember? You knew you were obsessively grabbing these images and forcing interpretations onto them, so eventually you stopped doing that of your own accord.
And at first, without those habitual egoic efforts at jumping the gun, you were unable to see any images at all and it seemed as if you’d lost all ability to communicate. But you didn’t lose it, did you?
“No. Definitely not.”
This will be the same. Trust in Me. Let yourself fall into the abstract unknown and I promise I will catch you.
“I believe you. And I’ll do my best, really I will. But what about writing books? How will I be able to relay your words if I’m not putting any of what you say into words?”
Just trust in Me. When the time comes for the next book, you’ll know what to write and how to write it. But you needn’t worry about that right now. That’s a long way off.
“Yes, of course. The next book is a long way off. But what about this book? How do I write the rest of this one?”
My love, you just finished it.
Postcards from the cutting room floor
I thought it might be fun to share with you a snippet of the creative process from the 3 years I spent writing, editing and polishing this book.
Lots of perfectly good essays did not make the final cut. Usually it was either because they didn’t move the overall story along, or because they illustrated a lesson that was already covered elsewhere in the book.
This piece was one of my early favorites, and I was kinda sorry to see it go. It begins with a diary entry taking place shortly after the Dinnertable Awakening, and I’ve just quit my Buddhist practice of 20 years:
ON FOLLOWING THE LEADER
July 23, 2005
It still feels a little like freefall. Or no—not freefall, exactly. More like I leapt off a cliff without my Buddhist practice to protect me, and am now floating gently suspended in midair. Destination unknown.
Although I have no idea where I’m headed, I do know this: It’s time for me to chart my own course, to stop being a follower of the teachings of an enlightened human being.
Any enlightened human being.
Nothing against the teachers or their teachings—but ever since that brief taste of direct spiritual communion back in May, I can’t escape the feeling that human words are just a collection of inadequate symbols, wholly unsuited to the task of expressing the living truth of spiritual experience. Even the most gifted communicator, the most eloquent and enlightened teacher, can function only as a finger pointing at the truth; it’s impossible for them to transmit the truth itself.
I’m sure they would if they could. An enlightened teacher surely must know the perfect, glorious truth in all its fullness, yet would have no direct way of passing that knowledge on to others. Because spiritual truth can only be experienced firsthand.
_______________
I was deeply grateful for all the pointed fingers that had brought me to this point; those enlightened teachings were exactly what I’d needed. But hard as it was to bid farewell to my Buddhist practice, I knew I had done the right thing. Having briefly experienced my own glimmer of firsthand communion, I knew I could never again content myself with gazing at pointed fingers. Besides, I knew there were definite pitfalls inherent in finger gazing.
Pet lovers might recognize this scenario, which illustrates those pitfalls:
You offer your dog or cat a tasty treat. You show it to her and then toss it in her bowl. She didn’t quite see where the nugget went, so she brings her gaze back to stare expectantly at your hand, thinking you still have it. You point at the bowl; she stares intently at your finger. You gesture and point more emphatically at the bowl…and she watches the moving finger with ever-deepening concentration.
It simply doesn’t occur to her to turn her head to look in the direction the finger is pointing.
In matters of spirit, we’re not so different.
We choose a teacher whose finger points eloquently at the truth—and we stare slack-jawed at the finger. We dress that digit up in jewel-encrusted costumes and set it on a pretty pedestal while the truth waits patiently off to the side in perfect peace, plainly visible if we would only turn our heads to look at it.
‘Fearful and Angry’ is not all it’s cracked up to be
I know what you’re thinking: But Carrie, you say, being a shy, dweeby hermit sounds so glamorous and interesting. Why would you want to give that up?
The truth is, I really didn’t want to give it up.
Because all ego minds, including mine, get their juice from specialness. And it really doesn’t matter what kind of specialness. If you’ve got reasonably healthy self-esteem, you probably believe you’re better at basketball or more gifted at Guitar Hero than others. Or you secretly know your ass looks way better in jeans.
I wasn’t much for the self-esteem, so I built a very convincing ego identity out of being the very worst: The ugliest, the stupidest, the most worthless and socially awkward. And once that identity is embraced, it’s damned difficult to let it go.
So what happens when all of Heaven and the whole world are showing you otherwise? Suddenly I’m not remotely dweeby, and all kinds of people seem to want to hear what I have to say. And it turns out I’m not a pathetically awkward wallflower after all – apparently I’m a natural born public speaker. Who knew.
A thorough self-image overhaul was clearly in order.
Scared the crap out of me.
Because who will I be if my identity is taken away? It meant working on a way down deep level, agreeing to release all kinds of unconscious ideas that used to make up my belief system. It’s been a months-long process, and I could never have done it alone; it’s Spirit, of course, who makes this kind of profound healing possible.
And now I’m beginning to reap the fruits of those efforts. As my self-perceptions have slowly healed, my fearful perceptions of others have been replaced with quiet trust and a real sense of safety.
Chicken or egg? Is it my forgiveness efforts toward others that has kickstarted my own emotional healing? Probably. The two work hand in hand.
All I know is, I used to be fanatical about preserving my privacy, and was terrified of what others would think of me if they knew about this whole crazy ‘messengering’ thing. I learned those fears were completely unfounded.
And now the beautiful messages are starting to trickle in, more and more each day, from wonderful strangers who have become my friends. They’ve been touched by my book and they want to make a connection with me.
And I gotta tell you, it’s awesome.
So I’ll take ‘open, strong and trusting’ over ‘shy, dweeby and fearful’ any day.
Wouldn’t you?
Catching the red eye flight
(Reporting live from Santa Fe) – Ever feel like your life is filled with so many Heavenly blessings you’ve run out of fingers and toes to count them all? That might seem an odd way to begin a story that nearly ended up in the emergency room, but sometimes it goes that way.
Here’s how it started: Due to a whole other series of mind-blowing Heavenly blessings, I was offered the amazing opportunity to come to Santa Fe to be interviewed about my soon-to-be-released book (9 days & counting!) and to meet a couple of writer-heroes of mine, Nouk Sanchez and Tomas Viera, authors of Take Me To Truth. Their book lives permanently on my nightstand, along with A Course in Miracles.
The day before I was to leave for Santa Fe, my right eye started to hurt for no reason. So I took out my contacts, thinking that would fix the problem. Wrong. The eye grew more and more irritated as the day wore on; by nightfall it was red and swollen and streaming tears, and by bedtime it hurt like holy hell. In total darkness the pain was bad enough, but the faintest glimmer of light brought what felt like a parade of stiletto heels stomping on my eye.
Ooh baby, it was gonna be a long night.
Around midnight I started toying with the idea of the emergency room; by 2am I was starting to wonder whether I’d have to cancel my trip? That meant passing up a (literally) God-given opportunity; it also meant I’d be pissing away $1000 or so on nonrefundable travel arrangements.
On the other hand, I was now virtually blind in one eye, unable to function except in total darkness and nearly mad with pain. Perhaps it was not the best idea to drive myself to LA, get on a plane and go to another city for 5 days.
Well I had no friggin’ idea what to do.
One thing I did know: I want to wake up from the dream of 3-D existence more than anything else in this world. And sometimes the best way to help do that is when your back is to the wall and you’re completely out of options. So I let go of all my own opinions and fears about what I was supposed to do in that situation, and I started to pray.
But I was determined not to merely replace the dream of pain with a dream of healing. (After all, I want to wake up from all dreams.) I didn’t pray to feel better. I just handed the whole mess over to Spirit with no strings attached, and asked only for an unmistakable sign whether I should keep my date in Santa Fe or not.
Then something curious happened. Right away the pain sort of dissolved and I fell into a kind of interim state (it definitely wasn’t sleep). 2 hours later, just before the alarm went off at 4am, I snapped out of it and realized my eye felt at least 50% better. Definitely bearable now. Taking that as my unmistakable sign, I rolled out of bed and hit the road.
But as if surrender and spontaneous physical healing were not enough, there was actually another (and far deeper) healing connected to this event.
You know how sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve changed or grown until all of a sudden you’re thrown into a situation that would’ve been your worst nightmare in the past but now isn’t?
To say I’ve always been deeply self conscious about my looks would be kind of a crazy understatement. I’ve caused myself needless decades of pain and shame over what Spirit has referred to as ‘my self-imposed prison of ugliness.’ And I know the whole thing is stupid, but have always been unable to get at the roots of those deeply held beliefs to be able to heal them.
But as I wandered the LA airport with a blood red eye, glasses and no makeup – not my best look, I assure you – I was surprised to realize my appearance didn’t matter to me at all. At all.
It was as if the door to my prison cell had been hanging wide open for ages, but only now did it occur to me it was ok to step outside (blinking in the unfamiliar and still somewhat painful light). That I was free at last.
Oh, the interview: Fabulous. And meeting all of those wonderful people: Even more fabulous. So fabulous, in fact, that in September Nouk, Tomas AND I will be putting on a 3 day seminar together here in California.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Holy crap, this spiritual journey is fun.
The Meaning of Christmas – random thoughts from a Jewish Buddhist Voice-Hearer
Let me state this right up front: My relationship with Christ has always been complicated.
Messed up, really.
I was born into an Orthodox Jewish family that was still very busy mourning the effects of World War II when I arrived on the scene in 1958. Christ was a complete stranger in our household, Christianity seen as nothing but a dark catalyst for terrifying world events.
My resulting relationship with Jesus is summed up in this story (from the book) called He Who Must Not Be Named:
…On the one hand He looked like a nice enough guy—His blond, blue-eyed portrait smiling down on my sleepovers at the neighbor kids’ house. And of course it was widely known that if you believed in Him, Santa brought you all kinds of magical swag on Christmas.
Yet He was also the reason I wasn’t allowed into some of the other kids’ houses. I was a dirty Jew, or so their mothers informed me, and Jesus wouldn’t like it if I spread those cooties around.
Meanwhile, school brought a whole different kind of challenge. I learned nothing at all about Christ or Christianity at home or in my Hebrew school studies, except that He was somehow associated with unspeakable evil, and so the name of Jesus was never to be uttered aloud.
“Why? What happens if you say it?” I figured it must be bad because nobody would ever tell me. Maybe saying Jesus’ name was what killed those six million Jews?
This was back in the day when public school kids were routinely made to sing religious songs, so for these occasions I was forced to adopt a weird sort of ventriloquist’s dummy approach:
Wag-wag(soundlessly my jaw moved up and down)
Loves me, yes I know
For the Bible tells me so.
…………………….Yeah.
Does it seem insane to you that anyone would teach a child to equate Jesus with Voldemort?
Well, you’re probably right about that. But cultural context is everything.
The Jews who taught these lessons were not the slightest bit nefarious in their intentions. Just scared. Traumatized. And deeply worried that their bacon cheeseburger-loving American offspring were in danger of forgetting recent cataclysmic history.
Now fast-forward several decades to our post 9-11 world, and that 2007 story about the Muslim Mickey Mouse with his own TV show. And we think: How could anyone be so evil? And are they insane, using Mickey to teach children to hate and murder?
Well, yeah. They’ve already proven they’re at least a little insane, if only by ignoring the global reach of Disney’s fearsome legal team.
But the very embodiment of evil? I’m gonna go out on a limb here to say: I don’t think so. I think maybe they’re just wounded citizens of a deeply damaged world, trying to pass their belief system on to their kids.
So. Back to the meaning of Christmas. (Or maybe it’s the meaning of Christ that I’m really after.) It’s taken me a half-century to undo all that well-intentioned cultural conditioning from my early years. But I don’t regret any of it, because that outsider status has allowed me to approach the subject with fresh eyesight.
For what it’s worth, here’s what I think:
There’s no such thing as pure evil. There are only degrees of damage and desperately misguided ways of coping with it.
And let’s face it, we’re all at least a little damaged and a little misguided.
So my personal practice – all year long, but especially now during the Christmas season – is to overlook the damage and the mistakes as best I can, and try to see only the Oneness and perfection that lie deep within each person. I’ve been told (and see no reason to disbelieve) that everybody who’s ever lived is equally perfect and worthy of unconditional love. So, what the hey, I’m giving it my best shot.
Do I slip and forget? Constantly. That’s why they call it a practice. But on the days when I manage it, I’m enveloped in peace and joy and a sense of…holiness, really, that feels like warm cocoa wrapped in a cashmere blanket. Or something like that. To be honest there are no words to describe the feeling, except to say it’s real good.
So I think that’s the meaning of Christmas. Joy. Oneness. Letting the world off the hook for its collective “sins.” From that guy in the SUV who steals my parking spot at the mall (dammit, he SAW me waiting), to the Muslim Mickey who teaches hatred to yet another generation of children.
I’m hoping to let a whole lot more people off the hook as the season progresses.
Because practice makes perfect, you know?
Forgiveness, Trust and YouTube
I hired this amazing video guy and last week we shot a really cool YouTube video promo for my book. He did a great job, I think. It’s fun, it’s atmospheric, and at the end it says ‘Available wherever books are sold’ and then lists my website, www.unlikelymessenger.com.
Beautiful. The only problem is, the book isn’t available wherever books are sold. In fact, it isn’t yet available, period.
And that website address isn’t even live yet, either. Oops.
But I wasn’t worried, because I figured I’d hold the video for a bit and release it when all systems were go. (Hopefully within another week or 2 the book will be available for preorder on Amazon, and the website will be up as well.)
But the video guy uploaded it to YouTube without telling me. And I found out because I saw it splashed across my Facebook page. And my Twitter page.
Then he needed to tweak the file format for best viewability. So he kept uploading new versions of the video – and Twitter and Facebook kept breathlessly notifying everybody about each one. So people kept going up there to view it.
The first video got 66 hits within just a couple of hours. Then the 2nd video got 29. Then the 3rd and 4th got a few each.
Then he put up a 5th video. And deleted videos 1 through 4, losing me over 100 page hits and some 5 star ratings in the process, and leaving a boneyard of broken links all over Twitter and Facebook.
So it was kind of exciting but mostly horrifying to watch this slow motion WTF train wreck taking place.
But I’ll tell you what, it was a prime forgiveness opportunity.
I’ve been practicing A Course in Miracles for a few years now, so usually a forgiveness situation like this is a no-brainer: Side with the person and not the circumstance. The Course says the person is in Oneness with God; eternally perfect and entirely innocent of whatever crime I think he’s committed. And the circumstance is nothing more than an imaginary fever dream.
All I know is, I feel deeply peaceful whenever I side with the holy innocence of the person. And I feel like hell whenever I don’t. So that’s why I’m usually so diligent about practicing forgiveness and overlooking the imaginary circumstances. I prefer to feel good.
Except here’s the thing: As you know, if you’ve been following this saga from the start, back in 2006 I was informed by Spirit that I was going to write books. Becoming an author was just about the furthest thing from my mind at that point, believe me.
But eventually I embraced the job offer, and have been engaged in this Blues Brothers-esque ‘Mission From God’ ever since.
So there’s a certain expectation of a little Heavenly help, here. And that YouTube debacle didn’t exactly qualify as helpful. So when I sat down to apply forgiveness to the video guy, I found I couldn’t get past the pointless mess created around the video’s release.
I had to stop right there and remind myself that I really have no friggin’ idea of what’s the best way to help my book find its audience. Or anything else, for that matter. I’m still caught up in the fever dream; how the hell do I know if 100 hits and some positive reviews make any difference at all to the effectiveness of that promo video? Or whether that video will make any difference to the success of the book?
So last night I just surrendered the whole thing to Spirit, and trusted that everything has been happening exactly as it’s meant to be. I had no other options, really.
And in the resulting ocean of peace that washed over me, I was able to connect with the divine Oneness of the video guy’s true nature and forget that whole Twitter/Facebook/YouTube mess.
And I discovered in the process that the video guy is holy, magnificent, radiant and totally perfect exactly as he is.
And I’m good with that.
POSTSCRIPT
This morning Video Guy informed me he could restore all my page hits and 5 star ratings to the remaining 5th version of the video. So I’m back up to 115 views, a half dozen 5 star ratings, and no lasting damage done.
I love it when I learn important lessons and it all works out happily ever after. Don’t you?
(to view the 5th and final version of the video in question, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3saOMax3xM )