Inspired by Jon Mundy's essay, "After Enlightenment, Zen What?"

I am just loving Jon Mundy’s new book, entitled “A Course in Miracles and. . .” 

 In the Introduction he makes clear his intention:

It is the intention of this book to show how many of the ideas contained in A Course in Miracles are reflected in a host of different religions, individual thinkers and schools of thought which both pre-dated the printing of the Course and can now be found in the teaching of other contemporary teachers.

In the 32 Chapters, you will find comparisons with The Bhagavad Gita, Yoga, Buddhism, Judaism, Alcoholics Anonymous, and so forth.

One of the first Chapters I read was Jon’s, “After Enlightenment, Zen What?” 

This section of his Chapter, “Make Believe” caught my eye:

In 1958, Country Music Singer, Conway Twitty (1933-1993) had a number one hit song entitled, “Make Believe,” in which he bemoaned the fact that all the hopes and dreams he had about a possible loving relationship were—only make-believe.  “My only prayer will be. . .someday you’ll care for me, but it’s o o only make believe.” Zen says, “Be in the world but don’t be of the world.”  Don’t be caught in make-believe.  There is no need to renounce the world—just see its illusory nature and let it be.  That which needs to be fixed isn’t in the world—it’s in the mind.  Thus, Mahatma Gandhi can say, “Be the change you want to see.”

It is obvious to me that Conway Twitty, the narrator of the song, recognizes that he is experiencing only “make believe,” and, yet, he does not see the alternative; he does not see that it is possible to shift from a special relationship to a holy relationship.

This morning, after reading that Chapter yesterday I, synchronistically, read these two stanzas in Chapter 30, “The New Beginning,” Section Viii, “Changeless Reality.”  In these stanzas, you will see that I played with the pronouns and added some parenthetical comments, as if I were talking with Conway Twitty.

Because reality is changeless is

a miracle already there to heal

all things that change, and offer them to you

to see in happy form, devoid of fear.

It will be given you to look upon

your sister thus. But not while you would have

it otherwise in some respects. (make believe) For this

but means you would not have her healed and whole.

The Christ in her is perfect. Is it this

that you would look upon? Then let there be

no dreams (make believe) about her that you would prefer

to seeing this. (holiness) And you will see the Christ

in her because you let Him come to you.

And when He has appeared to you, you will

be certain you are like Him, for He is

the changeless in your sister and in you.

This will you look upon when you decide

there is not one appearance you would hold

in place of what your sister really is.

Let no temptation to prefer a dream (make believe)

allow uncertainty to enter here.

Be not made guilty and afraid when you

are tempted by a dream (make believe) of what she is.

But do not give it power to replace

the changeless in her in your sight of her.

There is no false appearance but will fade,

if you request a miracle instead.

There is no pain from which she is not free,

if you would have her be but what she is.

Why should you fear to see the Christ in her?

You but behold yourself in what you see.

As she is healed are you made free of guilt,

for her appearance is your own to you.
(5,6)

The Course and many other spiritual teachings show us how to make this shift.

He/She: Lovingly Describing Some Male/Female Differences

In our Writing Workshop, we decided to practice writing a brief narrative from the point of view of an anonymous narrator going into the minds of two characters.

Here is my narrative, exploring the male/female differences in awareness.

He and She

The couple walk into Biaggi’s Restaurant in Madison, WI., and wait to be seated. He is in his mid-40’s, with an athletic build, trim, a closely-shaved head, wearing wire-rimmed glasses. She is in her mid-30’s, slim, with long, black hair, dark eyes, and a pretty face with high cheekbones.

When they are seated, the Host hands them the menus, and he orders a cup of coffee, and she is not sure what she wants.

He quickly scans the menu and selects the Eggplant Parmesan.

She looks around the restaurant, noticing how the cream-colored curtains match the brown napkins and beige tablecloths. 

He sips his coffee and looks at the overhead flat-screen snowing a football game, and he sees that five minutes remain in the third quarter: Packers 14, Bears 10.

She looks at the young couple sitting nearby and admires her hair, and the way her orange earrings match her orange camisole underneath her white blouse. She observes that they are very much into each other.

The waiter returns and asks if they are ready to order, and she says, “I haven’t looked at the menu, yet, but I will have a cup of coffee.” 

He checks his cell phone for messages during commercials.

She notices that an older couple at the table to their left are not having a good time, their faces impassive. They are hardly talking.

Finally, she looks at the menu and tries to make a decision between the Butternut Squash Ravioli and the Quattro Formaggi Tortelloni.

“So, I see the Packers are winning,” she says.

He smiles, nodding his head.

“I think this coffee tastes funny, what do you think?” she asks.

“I didn’t notice,” he said.

It is as if he walked in wearing a headlamp, focusing on one thing at a time; while she walked in holding a candle, softly illuminating the entire room, giving her diffuse awareness.

He looks at her and smiles, recognizing their differences, and says, clicking his cup on hers, “Prost,” remembering this line from a poem by Andy Petro:

When I highlight our Oneness
And celebrate our differences
I experience unconditional love.

She nods her head, smiles, and says, “Namaste.”