Course Corrections

I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”               — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Have you ever wondered why changing directions, and moving in the direction of your dream, is so demanding and elusive? I have.

Not only must we endeavor to live the lives that we have imagined, we must also be honest about our experience of time, and how we spend, or use, it. Why? Because our repetitive thoughts and behaviors created the person I became today. The possibility of change arises only after we have neutralized the power, insistent drive and momentum of the old patterns and ways of thinking.

I had this realization at age 29. By age 29, I had spent 248,240 hours becoming exactly the person that I had become. During those years, I routinely spent one hour each Sunday in community on spiritual matters, and that was all. The rest of my life was mine to do with as I pleased. I didn’t like the results I was getting from that decision.

This recognition was important because I concluded that celebrating one hour in spiritual community on Sunday would not be sufficient to change the direction, much less reverse the trend, of my life. And I realized I had no interest in slowly and casually accumulating another 248,240 hours of (perhaps) new thinking to neutralize my past. Why?

I would be 58 years old, and only infinitesimally changed. I knew there had to be a faster way. There was. Rather than taking the slow path, doing only one thing at a time (attending Sunday services), I would increase my level of engagement and do three things at the same time. Simultaneously, I gave of my time, my talent and my treasure. This doesn’t only mean participating in the church or center of my choice. It means owning and honoring my own spiritual life experience. In doing so, I attained my goal and dream sooner rather than later.

By combining the actions, and owning them, I had unexpected success in common hours. I also had the experience of success sooner rather than later. One hour out of a week, or even of a day, would have been to slow, taken too long, and probably lead to frustration. And, out of that frustration, I can easily imagine creating an excuse to quit and say this stuff does not work. Attend Sunday Celebration only, participating at a passive level, would not have allowed my success.

In summary, there is power in time. How we use it is critical. Knowing the number of hours that passed in the creation of the old me, allowed me to exercise compassion towards the “me” that wanted to become more. I became my current self by arresting the momentum of my former life and intentionally changing my direction. Are you interested in arresting the momentum of your former self and creating a new you?

by Keith Gorley

Invisible Abundance

Since becoming a student in Prosperity Plus II, I have thought a lot about abundance and prosperity. In agreeing to tithe, I found myself contending against a fear of “not enough”. It has been a liberating experience working to conquer that fear and grow my faith in Divine Abundance. I have found, right outside my window, a perfect parable of infinite Substance.

A month ago, I noted that I spend many of my waking hours at my work desk where I am blessed to have a window looking out on a tree and a distant view of the mountains. Wanting to share an experience of nature, I purchased a bird feeder that consists of a holder for up to three different cakes of bird food. I hung the feeder in the Palo Verde tree outside my window and waited for the birds to come to enjoy the suet, nuts and seeds.

Days passed by without any visitors to my bird feeder. I was puzzled because the clerk at the Wild Bird store assured me the birds would go crazy for the different seeds and nuts, especially during this season of hungry baby birds. Every day I kept watch on the tree and more than four weeks passed with the feeder remaining untouched. It looked quite forlorn just hanging there offering food without any notice.

Then I took a week away from the office. When I returned, I was startled to see a mad flock of birds at the feeder with the seed and suet cakes nearly decimated. Sometime last week, the birds discovered the bounty of food in that tree. Tiny sparrows and red headed finches battled for access to the hanging feeder, pecking their competitors away from the food.

Seeing how quickly the food was disappearing, I went back to the store and purchased a second feeder with more cakes of varied bird food that included cranberries, mealworms and smaller seeds for the tiny birds to peck. The presence of the second feeder in the tree did nothing, however, to lessen the competition for spots at the feeder. Such is the way of nature.

It seems to me the bird food hanging unnoticed in the tree is like the infinite Substance of Spirit all around us. That invisible Substance is available to us with the ease of a thought, and can manifest anything we desire or choose. It is always there but unless we recognize it, the Goodness remains untouched. Once we become aware of how we can tap into Divine Abundance, we realize we do not have to struggle for our prosperity. As Jesus said, “It is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom.” The birds do not know there is an invisible giver behind the reappearing seed cakes, or that they need not worry about sharing the abundance, but I now have a constant reminder, right outside my window, that Spirit is my Source and that I am eternally supported.

By Leah Hamilton

My Prancing Doe

When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure“– Unknown

Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality” – Emily Dickinson

Mother tiptoed away in the dark and drowsy wee hours of the morning when most are enveloped in slumber. Sleeping a rare sleep, one so deep and luxurious, I fought waking like a Grizzly Bear might fight to extend her winter’s hibernation.

What had began as a faint irritation far off in the distance; the ring tone of the phone gradually became louder and more insistent. Failing to reach the phone in time, I hit “redial” and was connected to Research Medical Center’s stroke unit in Kansas City. Mother was in Cardiac Arrest; the nightshift docs were giving CPR. They wanted to know my wishes, should they continue?

Fighting my desire to sink back into the depths of night and trying to kick start my thinking brain, the first words I could muster, with lots of pauses in between, were “Well … Hmmm … She has a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate order)…” Their response: “Do you want us to stop the CPR then?” Me: “Hmmm …..well …., she has a DNR so ummm, … Yes, I guess you should stop.”

There was not even a full minute to mull over or think through the ramifications of this decision, not a second to grasp or to cling. A decision was needed that very moment; it could not be undone and would change everything. Mom had tiptoed away after a stroke four days earlier. She had been playing the piano.

The day after the funeral, I visited mom’s grave. As I started down the lane to the family plot, I noticed a young deer literally dancing, a young prancing doe dancing as if to a lovely melody.

Mind you, I know Mount Moriah cemetery. I’ve been there for funerals and each year to commemorate Memorial Day with mother; decorating the graves of family members on both sides from her stash of colorful plastic flowers. I had never seen a deer in all my years there.

I knew immediately this dancing playful deer was my mother’s spirit, now set free. Mother was showing me her spirit – joyful and boundless, free from her paralyzed by stroke and pain-filled body.

Another ‘sign’ from mom came once I had arrived back in Tucson and started back to work. Quite extraordinarily, in broad daylight, a mother javelina and her baby curled up and sleeping for hours with their noses pressed against my office window.

My mother’s death unfolded perfectly, for her and for me. Given the chance, I would not rewrite this memory. It’s a perfect memory of my mother’s perfect life song.

By Holly Baker

Copy Watches

More than 15 years ago, I worked for about a month as a technical consultant at a petrochemical plant in Singapore. I was filling in for a colleague who had been working there for over a year straight and he needed a little time off to take care of some family business. While I was there, I had a number of incredible and amazing experiences. One of the oddest, besides eating chicken feet, durian fruit and grilled stingray on a banana leaf ‘plate’, was learning about an entire subtext of ‘copy watches’. These weren’t knock-off watches that you could possibly mistake for the original; they were obvious fakes that bore the label of the high-end manufacturer. The watch I purchased, for about $20 US, might have approximated the quality of a Timex with a faux-leather band, but the logo on the watch face clearly said Rolex. The street-hawkers weren’t pretending that they were selling Rolex watches, they were very clear with their cries, “Copy Watch, Copy Watch, Copy Watch…”

So, why would anyone buy a knock-off that wasn’t even a believable knock-off? For me, it was a memory aide that connected me to this place that was on the one hand incredibly familiar, and on the other hand inconceivably foreign. For some, I imagine it was a way to thumb their noses at the economic aristocracy that felt compelled to flash their legitimate high-end watches and such. Singapore was such a cultural mixed bag. For me, my copy watch also served as a reminder of what is true, beautiful and powerful, and what is facade, imaginary, sheep-like behavior, or simply made up.

I was handed a book this week. Really, I was handed a book this week to pass on to someone else. It wasn’t meant for me. (Ha Ha!) That book, The Crossroads of Should and Must by Elle Luna, is a stunning, playful reminder that we continuously get to choose between following the crowd, doing what is respectable, or concurring with the ever-present shoulds and ought-tos, and actually acting on that deepest creative desire of our essential being. Even when we don’t choose, we choose by not choosing. I’ve always hated that part, because every time I try to shirk my responsibility for myself, it sticks like gum on the bottom of my sandals on a hot day.

Last night we began our 10-week foray into Mary Morrissey’s Prosperity Plus II materials. For those of you who have participated in this activity before, you know it isn’t actually about collecting money for the center, or the dreaded “T” word — tithing. I won’t lie and say that tithing is not a component of the class, because it is. From the very first video Mary talks about conducting your own experiment of tithing, just for the duration of the class, to find out if choosing to share of your financial abundance increases your general, and specific, experience of abundance in your life. For many participants, it does. It is not too late to join the class. Just call or e-mail the office and we can order class materials for you. The full set of materials, 10 CDs and workbook, is priced at $50. If you have taken the class before and simply want a blank workbook to use in retaking the class, we can order that for you for $15.

So what does this have to do with copy watches? We can attempt to be a copy of someone else, try to blend in with the crowd, pretend to be invisible or inconsequential, or we can recognize our own gifts, desires and talents and be seen as the unique and magnificent expressions that are known by our own names. Scary, I know, and yet, I believe it is a game worth playing.

To act is to modify the shape of the world — Jean-Paul Sartre

During the month of April, we continue to talk about discovery, creation and re-creation. With the energies of the holidays of Easter and Passover upon us, why not make use of this inherently creative time to break out from your own bondage into freedom, and enjoy your own resurrection?

by Rev Janis Farmer

It’s Good To Be Queen

As part of my job I frequently visit kids in custody at the Juvenile Detention Center. To soften the impact of the stark institution, the administration lets kids paint murals on the walls and memorialize their educational achievements with painted handprints. There are also many inspirational quotes on the walls of those long hallways. One quote blazes in iridescent gold paint and I look at it on each visit. It says: Vision without action is merely a dream. Action without vision is just passing time. Vision with action can change the world! Lately this quote reminds me that my choices, too, create my experience of life.
In Victoria Castle’s workshop, she described two ways people tend to deal with their problems. Some people jump into action and busily do, do, do things to address issues while others take a passive and reflective approach to their problems. So, as in the quote above, some people just pass time by inefficient action and others just live in their heads and daydream. I happen to be the type of person who defaults to dreaming away inside my head, not effectively handling things. Victoria taught us a technique that works for both types of people. We can effectively address problems by managing our “state”, our internal response to circumstances. We can be in our bodies, breathe and remember our purpose and choose to be unaffected by outside conditions. Our state is where our sovereignty lies.
Likewise, in her Sunday message last week, Reverend Janis pointed out the importance of conscious choices. She said it is our responsibility is to pick what we want to experience or risk getting the default result based on race tendency of the Collective Unconscious. So, for example, we are not at the mercy of inherited health tendencies. We decide. If we pick and do not like the result we are free to pick again. To consciously choose is to exercise freedom and sovereignty in our lives.
I recognize my challenge is to get out of my head, to stop being passive and to exercise my freedom by making conscious choices and manifesting my desires. I get to be the sovereign of my own life. As a former people-pleaser, I had to learn that being sovereign means acting on my values, beliefs and intuition without seeking permission or approval from the outside world. To be sovereign is to be Self-reliant. In his book, Spiritual Liberation, Michael Beckwith said: “We are, each of us, kings and queens sitting on the throne of consciousness ruling our lives.” As I exercise my faith in Spirit I no longer feel fear about making decisions and acting on them. There are no limits to what is possible in God, but Spirit can only act through me. I must couple my vision with action if I want to change my world, and then ‘the’ world.

by Leah Hamilton

Changing My Relationship With Water

“I don’t need easy, just possible …. and if you have faith anything is possible, anything at all.”  — Soul Surfer, Bethany Hamilton

Many summers ago, while visiting family friends at an apartment complex, I sat on a lounge chair in the pool area while my parents stood a few feet away engaged in adult conversations.  Overwhelmed with boredom, the polished reflection of the shimmering Sun swaying in the swimming pool captured my seven-year-old imagination.  Without any of the adults noticing, I rose to my feet and systemically placed one foot in front of the other and walked along the edge of the swimming pool.  My attention was focused on balance and perfect poise as I delicately took each step with exact accuracy.  Uncertain of how it happened, I momentarily deviated from my methodical stepping, lost my balance and plunged into the deep end of the swimming pool.

Instantly, I was consciously aware of drifting downward towards the bottom of the swimming pool.  I was also aware of my Dad’s quick reaction of jumping into pool and lifting me out of the water.  Once I was out of the pool, my Mother wrapped a towel around me and I felt the warmth of her embrace.  It was not until I stood back and looked into the faces of both of my parents that I realized how frightened they were by the unfolding chain of emotional events.  From that day forward, I never had any inclination to learn how to swim or any desire to get near a pool of water.

I have always enjoyed the kinetic energy that is naturally generated from being in the immediate nearness of the Ocean.  The mysteries of the endless waves and the massive grandeur of the Ocean soothes my soul.  Nevertheless, in all its majestic wonders I could not allow myself to relax and go into the water.  I ensured my safety by remaining on the edges of the shore.  My favorite stress releasing activities were skydiving and driving big trucks.  The idea of jumping into a pool of water sunk my heart into despair.

“If you want to learn to swim jump into the water.On dry land, no frame of mind is ever going to help you.” — Bruce Lee

Recently during a meditation, I experienced a vision of myself relaxed and calmly floating in water.  During my meditation, I felt confident and supported as I floated in an open body of crisp blue water.  In that moment, I felt the mental distractions of hydrophobia melt away.  Faith of myself and of my abilities as the Greater Me opened the doors to the possibility of learning how to swim.  As a matter of fact, this past week I took a brave step towards making my meditative vision a reality and I enrolled myself into adult swimming lessons.

The most amazing part of this new venture of my life is that the day after I committed myself to taking swimming lessons, I received an invitation to a pool party! I smiled as I graciously accepted the invitation.  Somehow, I know that this day and every day is the start to a beautiful and fearless summer that has never been swam before.

So It Is!  By Carla Hodge

My New Activism

Over the past few weeks I’ve talked to many people groaning over the outcome of the Presidential election and fearing catastrophe for our country. I’ve been asked to participate in a march or some other protest as an activist. I respond that I decline to be discouraged because I hold faith that everything works out for good and that even painful change leads to greater possibilities. Usually, my words are greeted with skepticism and sometimes frank astonishment or criticism. But I know from our teachings that I own the responsibility to construct the story of my reality, so I’m not choosing any story of doom and gloom. Instead, I choose to stand on the truth of All One, All God, All Good. I strive to see the good in every person and every event, and to live from my internal divine guidance and core values. I call this “quiet activism” because it is so different from the way society, under the influence of collective consciousness, deals with things that seem to be “bad”. Instead of protests, petitions and marches, I choose prayer as my method of activism.

Over these same few weeks, I’ve reviewed my core values just as I know many others are doing at our Center. I have examined my actions to see where they were not congruent with my values. I meditated and I prayed. I got several “intuitive imperatives” that came in hard and fast. The first was that Compassion means, for me, means that I shift my diet and become a vegan. I cannot continue to turn a blind eye to the suffering of other beings, human or animal, that results from factory food production. The second imperative came a few days after I learned the news of Reverend Donald’s retirement plans. Love moved me to volunteer to sit on our Board of Trustees to help our Center navigate the change.

None of these decisions have been easy for me to implement. For example, I swiftly discovered, as a vegan, I can’t grab a quick bite to eat anywhere ever again. I am required to plan and be far more present about the food I eat. As a new Board member, I have new duties and meetings to add to my already busy schedule. My new activism is far from comfortable. When in doubt, I pray.

I believe the state of the world of our experience reflects our consciousness. If I want to see a world of love, plenty and right action, I must hold these things in my own consciousness first. As Michael Jackson sang, change starts with the man (or woman) in the mirror. My new activism is to believe one prayer of Truth can change everything, and then I pray.

by Leah Hamilton

Cows Don’t Give Milk

While living in Sonoma County California in the seventies, Clover Dairy billboards could be seen everywhere, even into Marin County to the south. One day, I saw my all-time favorite. It showed a Holstein cow sitting in full lotus with her eyes closed. The caption read, “I moo; therefore, I am.”

This is my last article for the Center for Spiritual Living Tucson newsletter, before I “ride off into the sunset” of retirement and my “next yet-to-be”. Therefore, it must include thoughts about frog-princes, farms, cows, love, and our relationship with Life and living. In specific, it focuses on cows and loving, and how they are connected, and that by looking at them together, one can capture a snapshot of reality, and if there is anything I want to leave with you, it’s another dose of reality, my favorite subject.

First: I must say, “The Science of Mind is a bunch of crap. This is true, if you think about the highest use of crap, and from this point of view, all philosophies are a bunch of crap.” Without crap, the garden of Life would not be nearly as rich; the plants would not have the basic nutrients and required elements to produce fertile crops. So whether it’s The Science of Mind or some other philosophy, the points of view they offer give us ways of understanding Life, and points of view about Life, so we can more readily experience Life and Its full bounty. All philosophies are crap, but they work for us, when we work with them.

Second: We are always in relationship. We’re never not in relationship, whether it’s with ourselves, another, our community, our planet, an idea, a philosophy or whatever. We’re always in relationship.

Third: Glamour and delusion change nothing, absolutely nothing, except our experiences in life. Smoke and mirrors do not change the world, or a person’s life. They only change appearances and set up expectations that always shatter peace of mind.

Many years ago, I edited and retold a story, which I called, “The Lady and The Frog.”

A woman had experienced difficulty in all of her relationships with men. She hadn’t succeeded with any. To add insult to injury this particular week, work had been exceptionally tough, so when she arrived home that fateful Friday evening, totally bent out, torqued and twisted about her whole life, she was thinking that life was too much of a struggle.

As she approached her front door step, the automatic sensor light came on, and when she put the key in the door, she heard “ribbet, ribbet.” She thought maybe one of her friends had gotten one of those noise-making guard frogs that croak “ribbet, ribbet”, when you walk in front of them. She looked around to find it, and sure enough, there in her little flower garden, next to the concrete slab porch, was a frog. But this was a real frog, and when the frog looked up at her, he puckered up his lips, air-kissed at her, and said, “ribbet, ribbet.”

She froze and thought, “My God! Am I freaking out? That frog just kissed at me and croaked ‘ribbet, ribbet!’” So she looked at the frog again, and when she looked at the frog, the frog looked at her, air-kissed her and croaked “ribbet, ribbet” again.

Since it already had been one heck of a week, this was the frosting on the cake, so she decided that she was up for a little bit of distraction and entertainment. She picked up the frog, walked into the kitchen and put the frog on the kitchen counter. Putting down the rest of her stuff, she poured herself a big glass of wine and couldn’t help noticing that every time she glanced at the frog, the frog would make eye contact, air-kiss at her and croak “ribbet, ribbet”. She poured a second glass of wine; followed by a third glass of wine, and then, all the fairy tales she had heard started becoming more real for her. That can happen after three glasses of wine. And it continued: Every time she looked at that frog, it air-kissed at her and croaked “ribbet, ribbet”.

Finally, she said to herself, “What the hell! I’ve got nothing to lose,” and she picked up that frog, held him under the faucet to clean him off a little bit, because you never want to take a dirty frog into your bedroom, and she put the frog on the bed. She went into the bathroom, took a shower and worked on looking good and smelling good. She was becoming more and more convinced that when she kissed that frog, it was going to turn into a gorgeous, beefcake of a Prince, and since frogs don’t wear clothes, neither would he, so she wanted to be ready. Throughout the process of her cleaning up, she kept looking to see if the frog was still there, and every time she made eye contact, it would look her straight in the eye, air-kiss at her and croak “ribbet, ribbet”.

Wow! She seriously started to get her hopes up here. It was looking like this could turn out to be a pretty good evening after all. She finally completed her cleanup process, walked into the bedroom; bent over and kissed the frog right on the lips, and sure enough, that frog transformed into a gorgeous, beefcake of a very naked Prince. She screamed, “My God! It worked!”, and as she looked into those deep, hazel-green eyes, he air-kissed at her and croaked “ribbet, ribbet.”

The moral of the story is, that no matter how much make-up and glamour and delusion you bring to a situation, a delusion is still a delusion, and no matter how much wine you drink, a frog is still a frog. You can dress them up and make them look like a Prince, but they always will be a frog.

Take out a piece of paper up and draw a vertical line down the middle. At the top and of the left-hand side of the paper, write the word Delusion. On the right-hand side write the word Reality. Now spend a few minutes listing situations and conditions in your life, under the column where they belong: Does that situation or condition belong in the Delusion or in the Reality column?

It has been said, “Pain is the difference between what is, and what I want it to be.”

The Delusion column is your, “What I want it to be.”

Life experience tells us: “If my ‘Want to be’ is different than ‘What is,’ that’s what causes the pain or chaos or confusion in my life.”

Tell yourself the truth now, and tell it fast. Write down at least three situations or conditions in each column, before continuing with your reading.

You have heard me say, “Love is a Verb.” In my mind, as a noun, Love falls horribly short sometimes. It makes a very crummy noun, unless you’re talking about the effects of Loving.

Looking at Love only as a noun can be problematic, and in fact, sometimes catastrophic, since our definitions shape our experience. This is how love and milk begin to relate.

If I want love (as a noun), without loving (as a verb), it may take a while, and it likely will not last very long. It’s hard to fill my love-bucket without putting in some energy.

As a verb, Love would be something we do. It’s active, it has impact, it moves, and there is an exchange of energy. Verbs support an exchange of energy.

At the same time, Love is part of our nature. It’s a function of the True Self. If it’s a function, then it’s a verb. It’s something the True Self does. It’s part of our “frogness”, as well as our “prince-ness” or “princess-ness”; it’s part of our essence. It’s natural. When we’re natural, we love. In fact, we have to stop ourselves from loving.

Love is a verb. It falls radically short of its true potential if it is considered only as a concept. Love needs to be actualized; it needs to be practiced and lived.

In Ernest Holmes’ and Willis Kinnear’s New Design for Living, we find, “The proof of any truth rests only in our practical use of it, and each individual must prove this theory for himself in his own life and experience.

Here is the story that became the title of this article:

I had a Great Uncle and Aunt, who lived on a little farm near Newcastle Texas. When I was four years old, I got my first pair of real cowboy boots for my birthday. In Texas you can get them early, and earlier, when I turned two, I had a pair, but they weren’t real cowboy boots. These four-year old versions had red leather and stitching up the shank; the whole bit. They were really cool looking, brand-spanking new boots, and I wore them proudly.

We went to visit my Great Uncle and Aunt’s little farm, and Uncle Richard was going to show me how to milk a cow. Most of my life, I have lived in a particular way. My Dad used to say that I “bogied right in,” which meant that if I wanted to do something or go somewhere, I just took off and went there, fearless to a fault sometimes. So I stepped right off that porch and started walking, hell bent for election toward the corral, determined that I’m gonna milk me a cow. Four years old. Sooner or later we learn things, and it musta’ been time for this one thing to be learned.

I stepped through the lower slat of the corral fence and stepped right into it. Yep, I stepped into some of that stuff that I called The Science of Mind and other philosophies. I stood there for a moment, looking down at the mess, and that’s when my Dad learned that I knew what it was. I called it what it’s called, but I said it as an expletive. He roared with a belly-jiggling laugh. He thought it was hilarious: What I had just stepped in, that I had stepped in it, and that I knew what it was and said so, for all the world to hear.

Well, I stepped right back out of that corral and started rethinking things a bit, as much as a four-year-old can rethink things. After a while of standing there, stomping for some time, to get that stuff off my brand-spanking new boots, Uncle Richard walked over to me. He had on those big, black, knee-high rubber boots. He had figured out how to do this thing, so he grabbed my hand and hauled me around the corral. He said gently, and not without a grin in his voice, “You don’t cut through the corral, Donald. You walk around the corral to get into the barn.”

When we arrived in the barn, there was old Bessy, or whatever her name was, and she was huge. Here I was, a little bitty shrimp in red cowboy boots, just about to milk my first cow. Uncle Richard showed me where the milking stool was, and he brought another stool over and sat next to me. He showed me where the bucket was; and this next part, I will never understand: That cow was just down-right dirty, and Uncle Richard made me wash my hands before milking her. Explain that one to me! Anyway, after washing my hands, I looked down under that cow, and I can tell you for sure, that was one utterly huge bag. I had never seen anything that big in my life. I was bottle fed, and my bottles didn’t look nothin’ like that udder.

Uncle Richard reached out and grabbed one of those puppies, and he started working on it. Right away, he got milk, but I noticed that the milk didn’t fall out on it’s own. He said to me, “This is what you’re supposed to do, Donald,” and he showed me the hand action, so I grabbed on, and I went for it. I started pulling, and kept pulling, and pulling, and pulling, and I thought, “I ain’t getting no milk.” It was the goofiest thing. So I looked at him like, “You’re tricking me. You’re playing a practical joke on me. This thing doesn’t work. It’s empty!”

And he said, “You’ve got to squeeze hard and like this.” Well those little four-year old hands could barely get around it all, but I worked and worked, and finally I got a couple of drops and began to feel pretty satisfied with getting even a couple of drops. I was ready to bag all this nonsense, because the longer I sat there and struggled, the more I noticed that it stunk in there. I just didn’t really enjoy the process much. Farms were dirty, and it seems like a whole lot of work to me.

On again and off again throughout my life, I have held to the romantic notion that living on a farm would be sweet and lovely and fun. Then I found out that my Great Uncle and Aunt get up before sunrise, go to bed after dark, and they work their tails off. It’s dirty. It’s messy. It stinks. They dealt with the realities of life like life and death every single day. Farm life is hard work! They had to eke out every drop from the cow, every head of lettuce and every single carrot they got from that land. They had to work for everything. Eggs were the easiest part, except for cleaning out the coop. And as I watched my Great Uncle and Aunt that day, they weren’t worn down by doing all of that work. They loved it. It was a true labor of love for them. It was their livelihood.

To complete the story, my aunt cooked a homegrown ham for dinner, and that was the sweetest piece of pork I have ever tasted. After eating that literally homegrown dinner, I could easily have called that farm their lovinghood, and I think that’s how Love is, as a verb. It doesn’t have to be struggle, and it yet it’s work. Energy gets exchanged, and when it does, it’s powerful and the most magical of activities. It’s as sweet as that ham.

I learned a great lesson that day. The lesson didn’t complete itself until many, many years later, but it finally finished percolating: Work doesn’t have to be a struggle. Work is nothing more than the exchange of energy. Metaphysics can be hard work, too, but it doesn’t have to be a struggle.

We don’t have to eke and pull out every single drop from this thing called Life, especially with Love as our nature. It’s just that we have been trained out of loving naturally. We have gotten trained into thinking that Love is a concept, an abstraction, a noun, a thing. But when we are at our best, most natural state, we simply love, and we naturally perceive and receive love. The flow of real love is a natural exchange of energy.

Loving is easy. It’s natural. It just takes practice. It takes practice to realize that loving is what we are, and when it’s natural, it’s what we do.

From The Jerusalem Bible: “Love is always patient and kind, it is never jealous, Love is never boastful, nor conceited, it is never rude nor selfish, it does not take offense, and it is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people’s sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes. Love gives naught but itself, it takes naught but from itself, Love possesses not, nor would it be possessed, for Love is sufficient unto itself.”

Cows don’t give milk. It is in their nature to provide it, but energy must be exchanged to express the milk. The same is true for love. The greatest souls are those who love.

Marcus Aurelius wrote, “Waste no more time talking about great souls and how they should be. Become one yourself.”

Become the great soul that lives within. Become the love within you. Become the great Center; the Center that lives in you and awaits your discovery.

I trust that you continue to milk Life for all It’s worth, and It’s worth a lot of love!

I love you and have appreciated our time together, so with the Best of Blessings and with Love in Its Greatest Verbness, I leave you.

~ Rev Donald Graves

Natural Oneness

There is One Infinite Mind from which all things come.  This Mind is through, in, and around man.  (Ernest Holmes, The Science of Mind)

During the early months of this past summer, I began my day in the usual fashion of watering my outdoor plants.  I started my daily routine by refreshing the mesquite tree that provides shade for my front yard and a resting place for the birds in the heat of the day with a cool splash of water.  As I unraveled the garden hose from its storage box, I dropped the hose onto the ground between two flowerpots on either side of the mesquite tree.  After a few moments, I started to reach down to pickup the hose when I suddenly noticed a coiled diamond-backed rattler snake perfectly camouflaged in its natural surroundings of the mesquite tree and Mother Earth.  I stood up straight, took one deep breath and on the heels of my feet I made a sharp 180 degree turn.  Next, I turned off the running water and in two or three swift movements I retreated into the safety of my home.

I spent the next ten minutes searching the Internet for an available resource to have the limbless reptile removed from my front yard.  Eventually, I found a Rattle Snake Wrangler who happened to be at a work site near my home. The only downside to this possible solution as the Wrangler explained was the fact that he had to finish his current work assignment and he would not be available for another 90 minutes.  The Wrangler assured me that I had nothing to worry about and if I decided to wait for his arrival, the only thing he would ask me to do would be keep a watchful eye on the movement of the rattler from a safe distance.  I agreed to wait and to also maintain vigilance.

Looking out of my kitchen window, the sight of the creature that momentarily took my breath away and made my heart skip a couple of beats, remained still and visibly clear in plain sight. I decided that it was time to relax so I opened the shutters, positioned a chair in front of the window, took a seat and I appropriately named the rattler “Diamond.”  I felt a calming influence flow through me as I slipped into a meditation with Diamond. Rather than holding onto my initial fears, I came to a resolution of Peace. I experienced the wonders of nature and I felt as One with Diamond.

The Wrangler arrived and humanely removed Diamond from its resting place. The Wrangler commented that he thought it was odd that a rattlesnake found its way into my front yard.  I did not think that this was odd as I know that One Mind spoke through Diamond.  I felt the presence of Divinity moreover I experienced Oneness in the least likely way that I could ever imagine.

In the Science of Mind, Ernest Holmes explains that faith expresses as the power of prayer.   What started out as the appearance of a hazardous situation developed into a lesson of personal empowerment and peace.  Most importantly, I learned that elevated thoughts, raised into awareness of Spirit, prove my ability to recognize life force as all shapes, forms and fashions of the Universe.

By Carla Hodge

Just a Philosopher’s Musings? No.

The Center for Spiritual Living Tucson offers spiritual tools for both managing and resolving the every day challenges that we all encounter from time to time. Those daily challenges may express as loss of employment, failed relationships, financial anxiety and mental, physical or emotional stress, to name a few of them. That’s a tall order.

If our philosophy is the cure for every day challenges, then why are our Sunday Celebration seats not filled to capacity? Why are we averaging around 100 congregants per Sunday? What are we missing?

I believe our physical addresses can seem challenging. Neither our office nor celebration service is readily accessible to many in Tucson. Neither is on a bus route. Either you own a vehicle, get a ride or walk to be part of our community. To those of who do walk, or bike, we thank you. The maxim, out of sight out of mind may apply. Other than our presence in the Natural Awakenings Magazine we are virtually invisible to a community that may be unfamiliar with the Science of Mind Philosophy. And, I accept that, no matter what we do, we will remain invisible to those who are not quite ready to fully embrace the idea that they are responsible for their lives and that they have dominion in the situation that they currently experience. The belief in an external savior is a very hard one to give up.

The above is unfortunate, because individually and collectively we have proven that this stuff works! However, to know that it works, the spiritual tools offered must be applied. Wallace Wattles drove this point home when he said, “That is the rock upon which so many otherwise scientific metaphysical thinkers meet shipwreck – the failure to connect thought with personal action.”   It is critical for the metaphysical thinker to know that he/she is not merely the physical experience or the body.

I was completely focused upon, and absorbed in, the life of my body. My consciousness was centered in and identified with my body, and totally captured by my physical experience. And, whatever was happening in the world got my total attention. That includes its moods and pains. It was not until I learned about my inner self that I could change my focus of identification. It was this introduction to the inner man that made it possible for me to become a scientific metaphysical thinker. While the scientific metaphysical thinker is aware of his depression, financial anxiety, stress and so-forth, he does not identify with them. His body may be diseased but he is not the disease. The Science of Mind philosopher does not desert the truth that “Man’s nature is identical to God’s.”

“Whatever is true of the Universe as a Whole must also be true of the individual … Man is evolved from the Universe as a self-conscious, thinking center of Living Spirit.” (The Science of Mind 106) So often we do not perceive ourselves as thinking centers of Living Spirit; this contributes to our disconnect.   According to Holmes, we have not received full benefit from these teachings because we do not understand the conditions under which freedom operates or the laws governing life. If this is true, and I believe it is, then perhaps we can demonstrate how freedom and the laws governing life operate.

On a personal note, this philosophy is responsible for my mental make-up, peace of mind, healthy relationship with money – which is a form of concretized spirit -, and the home and vehicle I have today. I, too, have physical health challenges, but none of them have me.

Our philosophy must bear fruit to be seen as valuable. Thus, in revisiting a previous question: Both as individuals and as a collective congregation, are we connecting thought with personal action? Are we demonstrating the effectiveness of our philosophy in our personal lives? Are we living in such a way that strangers will ask, “What do you have that I don’t?” The apparent absence of “fruit” may make us doubt our ability to make a difference in our own lives, and in the lives of others. Food for thought…

By Keith Gorley

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