The First 7 Lessons of A Course in Miracles: Emerging from our Immersion in Thought

It has been one week now since the beginning of the New Year, and I have been doing the early lessons of A Course in Miracles each morning, and they are brand new.

This morning an idea came floating into my mind, a phrase from the past, a Zen question, “Does a fish know water?” And my next thought was, “To what extent am I aware, moment-to-moment, of my total immersion in my thoughts making up this dream, this illusion, this mirage, surrounding me?” To what extent am I so familiar with this imaginary world that I am oblivious of floating in it? Preoccupied with form, I forget that I am formless; while submerged in the world, I forget that I am not of the world. It is always a matter of forgetting and remembering.

My habitual preoccupation with my immersion in thought is the reason Jesus begins His Workbook as He does:

Lesson 1, Nothing I see means anything.

Now look slowly around you, and practice applying this idea very specifically to whatever you see. (Paragraph 1: Line 1)

Sitting on my couch, looking around the room, I slow down and glance at objects, one at a time. But I find that I can hardly look at an object and move on because associations rapidly pour into my mind, instantaneously. . . the new bird feeder attached to the window, my son, Stephen, gave me that for Christmas. . .my coffee cup, containing French-pressed Italian Roast from World Market. . .the wood-burning stove, the Woodman delivers wood from northern Wisconsin.

Here I am practicing that none of these thoughts mean anything, and not for the first time, either, and yet I automatically bring associations to each object my eyes light upon, giving each object a particular meaning. Thus, in my immersion, Jesus offers a lifeline, a reminder, this truth, nothing, no thing, no object I see, no thoughts I think, means anything.

(At the end of this post, each of the 7 Lessons is printed in its entirely.)


Lesson 2, I have given everything I see all the meaning it has for me.

Oh, I see. Each object has a personal meaning, and another person looking at it would see only a meaning personal to him/her. Furthermore, the phrase, Oh, I see, reminds me that we associate seeing with understanding. The false connection between seeing/understanding is built into our language.

It is also obvious that when you and I look at something, some thing, we each see our own meaning, making true communication between us extremely difficult.

If possible, turn around and apply the idea to what was behind you. 1:5

Now, this gets me every time. Not only do I personally give meaning to every thing, every thing is not even there until I perceive it! I am walking around with this camera-head, making personally real only what I focus on, while all other objects disappear because they are not appearing in my camera lens, my eyes. . . what was behind you.

Merely glance easily and fairly quickly around you, trying to avoid selection by size, brightness, color, material, or relative importance to you. 2:1

When Jesus says relative importance to you, He reminds me of the associations I am making rapidly, automatically, habitually. Now I understand why Master Teacher often referred to us as “Associations,” and those of us at Endeavor Academy belong to an “Association.”

Lesson 3, I do not understand anything I see in this room.

Because I am in a constant state of mind of associating ideas with objects, it is impossible for me in this state to understand, or to see, any thing as it is.
Anything is suitable if you see it. 1:5

Here we go again. . .if you see it. The object is not even there until I see it, until my camera-eyes snap a picture of it. As far as the metaphor of a camera, would it only be so that my eyes were as objective as a camera.

Some of the things you see may have emotionally-charged meaning for you. 1:6

To this point, Jesus has only emphasized thoughts and understanding and associations, and now He brings in emotions and feelings. Jesus is methodically revealing to us exactly how our minds work. And once again, the teaching is not to resist, not to stifle these thoughts and feelings, but simply be aware of them and lay such feelings aside. 1:7

The point of the exercises is to help you clear your mind of all past associations, to see things exactly as they appear to you now, and to realize how little you really understand about them. 2:1

All I need do is clear my mind, and that is everything. Most likely, I was not even aware that my mind was cloudy in the first place. Probably, before this exercise, I had no reference point other than my total immersion in the world of thoughts and objects. And Jesus slips in now; now, this moment, is the only time there is. Being present with a clear mind is the only time there is. Now is not an interval between the past and present; it is a state of mind of clarity.

Lesson 4, These thoughts do not mean anything.

The only thing that could possibly cloud my mind is a thought. Because of the rapidity of thought, I am not aware of the nano-second of a clear mind before and after the cloud passes. Jesus asks us merely to note these thoughts, not associate with them. He tells us not to evaluate them as good or bad. Just be aware of each thought as it rises and falls, as it floats across our minds. We really cannot label them as good or bad, anyway.

This is why they do not mean anything. 1;7

These passing thoughts that we hold near and dear mean nothing. Thoughts are thoughts and real meaning is something else.

None of them represents your real thoughts, which are being covered up by
them. 2:3

Now Jesus makes a distinction between unreal and real thoughts. This is intriguing because I was not aware for my entire life of a layer of real thoughts covered over by thoughts that are unreal, meaningless.

Jesus uses the word train; He is training our minds to learn to separate the meaningless from the meaningful. In truth, we are full of meaning, although we have squandered a great deal of time on things with less, actually, no meaning. Jesus moves us from things that appear outside, to the thoughts we experience inside.

It is a first attempt in the long-range purpose of learning to see the meaningless as outside you, and the meaningful within. 3:3

When did I ever look at thoughts before. Prior to this time, thoughts were to me like water to a fish. Yet, Jesus cautions:

You are too inexperienced as yet to avoid a tendency to become pointlessly preoccupied. 5:4

There it is. I have a chance to become aware, but not pointlessly preoccupied with meaningless thoughts because I am being trained purposefully.

Lesson 5, I am never upset for the reason I think.

I'd like to think of myself as a reasonable person, i.e., I can connect the dots; I can move from facts to conclusions. I can certainly be reasonable about my upsets. I have a lot of practice connecting my upsets with persons, (Christine, my wife, did not do what I expected her to do.), situations (The squirrels are ruining my bird feeders.), and events (It is 5 degrees below 0 Fahrenheit, and my car won’t start.). I am reasonably upset.

Michael Brown, the author of The Presence Process, makes a great play on the word, “upset.” Here's an example in the training:

I am not angry at Christine for the reason I think. 2:3

Michael Brown calls these upsets, “set ups.” They are opportunities for us to come into the recognition that these thoughts do not mean anything, either about the event, or the feeling. Jesus gives us the opportunity to use these upsets as set ups by connecting the event with the feeling, realizing that they are both of our own making, based on thoughts that have no source in reality. In fact, this preoccupation is covering up, clouding over, our real thoughts. We can learn to use the set up to break through our "reasonable" connecting of the dots, connecting events and feelings.

Lesson, 6, I am upset because I see something that is not there.

Now I am learning that I am applying my reasonability improperly. I am not connecting the dots properly. There are no dots. My emotional reactions, and what I think is causing them are not connected. I have been set up, heavily invested in the premise that seeing is believing. Yet, Jesus brought that into question in is His very first Lesson, Nothing I see means anything. Here is the first exercise in Lesson 6;

I am angry at Christine because I see something that is not there. 1:4

Here is how Jesus concludes His Introduction to His Course:

Nothing real can be threatened.
Nothing unreal exists.
Herein lies the peace of God.

Recognizing the difference between what is real and what is unreal will lead to my peace of mind, my clarity of mind, my experience of now.

Lesson 7, I see only the past.

In this Lesson, Jesus makes clear why we are simply associations, associative thinkers. I am simply incapable of looking at an object without seeing, or understanding , it in reference to my past experiences.

Here is a demonstration of how we see only the past.

Please glance at this sketch.

Now look at this picture.

What do you see? The chances are good that when you looked at the picture, you associated it with the sketch and saw a young woman. You may say, what else is there to see?

Please look at this sketch.

Now look back at the compossite picture. What did you see this time? You probably saw an old woman.

Our past thoughts predispose us to seeing what we are now looking at. Notice the rapidity of past thoughts and the impact they have on the present.

So, Happy New Year! I am so grateful to begin the New Year being reminded that all my thoughts about form mean nothing because all things in form are given current meaning by past references. This is a good beginning that will lead me to experience what is real and formless, and Herein lies the peace of God.

And now back to my beginning query: “Does a fish know water?” A fish cannot know water without a reference point different from water. I am rather amazed that while writing this post, an article appeared in the newspaper that announces that there is just such a fish. Paleontologists in Poland report finding the footprint of a tetrapod.

The water-dwelling ancestors of modern-day mammals, reptiles and birds, emerged onto land millions of years earlier than previously believed. A set of fossilized footprints show that the first tetrapods—a term applied to any four-footed animal with a spine—were treading upon ground 397 million years ago, well before scientists thought they existed.

This was a critical period in evolution when sea-based vertebrates took their first steps toward becoming dinosaurs, mammals, and—eventually—human beings, giving our fishy forebears an incentive to explore open land. (Emergence of 4-legged animals pushed back, Raphael G. Satter, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Section B, p. 3, January 9, 2020.)

A tetrapod leaving his footprint on dry land now knows water in reference to knowing land.

Now, this fish knows water!


Dear Reader, this may be a long way to go to explain the idea for us who are totally immersed in our meaningless thoughts to recognize with gratitude that Jesus in His Course in Miracles is guiding us to the experience of a reference point, a footprint, enabling us to stand on the firm ground of reality, the peace of God.

In Lesson 50, I am sustained by the Love of God, Jesus offers several phrases, expressing a place to stand, reference points enabling us to emerge from our immersion in thought, anchors to hold us steady.

. . .perfect peace and safety

The eternal calm of the Son of God.

The Love of God within you.

. . .a blanket of protection and surety the Kingdom of Heaven. Such is the resting place where your Father has placed you forever.

In summary, here is the analogy:

fish: water

man: thought

And:

fish: a tetrapod's footprint

man: The Love of God within you

In this New Year, as we continue to walk in the world of form, and not of the world, being formless, we need to be reminded constantly that we are God's Son, sustained by His Love. This reference point will strengthen us to remember when we forget, to help us remember, to help us emerge from our long immersion in thought.

Here is Lesson 50, I am sustained by the Love of God, in its entirety.

Here is the answer to every problem that will confront you, today and tomorrow and throughout time. In this world, you believe you are sustained by everything but God. Your faith is placed in the most trivial and insane symbols; pills, money, "protective" clothing, influence, prestige, being liked, knowing the "right" people, and an endless list of forms of nothingness that you endow with magical powers.

All these things are your replacements for the Love of God. All these things are cherished to ensure a body identification. They are songs of praise to the ego. Do not put your faith in the worthless. It will not sustain you.

Only the Love of God will protect you in all circumstances. It will lift you out of every trial, and raise you high above all the perceived dangers of this world into a climate of perfect peace and safety. It will transport you into a state of mind that nothing can threaten, nothing can disturb, and where nothing can intrude upon the eternal calm of the Son of God.

Put not your faith in illusions. They will fail you. Put all your faith in the Love of God within you; eternal, changeless and forever unfailing. This is the answer to whatever confronts you today. Through the Love of God within you, you can resolve all seeming difficulties without effort and in sure confidence. Tell yourself this often today. It is a declaration of release from the belief in idols. It is your acknowledgment of the truth about yourself.

For ten minutes, twice today, morning and evening, let the idea for today sink deep into your consciousness. Repeat it, think about it, let related thoughts come to help you recognize its truth, and allow peace to flow over you like a blanket of protection and surety. Let no idle and foolish thoughts enter to disturb the holy mind of the Son of God. Such is the Kingdom of Heaven. Such is the resting place where your Father has placed you forever.

Happy New Year!

* * *

Lesson 1, Nothing I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place] means anything.

Now look slowly around you, and practice applying this idea very specifically to whatever you see:

This table does not mean anything.

This chair does not mean anything.
This hand does not mean anything.
This foot does not mean anything.
This pen does not mean anything.

Then look farther away from your immediate area, and apply the idea to a wider range:

That door does not mean anything.
That body does not mean anything.
That lamp does not mean anything.
That sign does not mean anything.
That shadow does not mean anything.

Notice that these statements are not arranged in any order, and make no allowance for differences in the kinds of things to which they are applied. That is the purpose of the exercise. The statement should merely be applied to anything you see. As you practice the idea for the day, use it totally indiscriminately. Do not attempt to apply it to everything you see, for these exercises should not become ritualistic. Only be sure that nothing you see is specifically excluded. One thing is like another as far as the application of the idea is concerned.

Each of the first three lessons should not be done more than twice a day each, preferably morning and evening. Nor should they be attempted for more than a minute or so, unless that entails a sense of hurry. A comfortable sense of leisure is essential.

Lesson 2, I have given everything I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place] all the meaning that it has for me.

The exercises with this idea are the same as those for the first one. Begin with the things that are near you, and apply the idea to whatever your glance rests on. Then increase the range outward. Turn your head so that you include whatever is on either side. If possible, turn around and apply the idea to what was behind you. Remain as indiscriminate as possible in selecting subjects for its application, do not concentrate on anything in particular, and do not attempt to include everything you see in a given area, or you will introduce strain.

Merely glance easily and fairly quickly around you, trying to avoid selection by size, brightness, color, material, or relative importance to you. Take the subjects simply as you see them. Try to apply the exercise with equal ease to a body or a button, a fly or a floor, an arm or an apple. The sole criterion for applying the idea to anything is merely that your eyes have lighted on it. Make no attempt to include anything particular, but be sure that nothing is specifically excluded.

Lesson 3, I do not understand anything I see in this room [on this street, from this, window, in this place].

Apply this idea in the same way as the previous ones, without making distinctions of any kind. Whatever you see becomes a proper subject for applying the idea. Be sure that you do not question the suitability of anything for application of the idea. These are not exercises in judgment. Anything is suitable if you see it. Some of the things you see may have emotionally charged meaning for you. Try to lay such feelings aside, and merely use these things exactly as you would anything else.

The point of the exercises is to help you clear your mind of all past associations, to see things exactly as they appear to you now, and to realize how little you really understand about them. It is therefore essential that you keep a perfectly open mind, unhampered by judgment, in selecting the things to which the idea for the day is to be applied. For this purpose one thing is like another; equally suitable and therefore equally useful.

Lesson 4, These thoughts do not mean anything.

They are like the things I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place]. Unlike the preceding ones, these exercises do not begin with the idea for the day. In these practice periods, begin with noting the thoughts that are crossing your mind for about a minute. Then apply the idea to them. If you are already aware of unhappy thoughts, use them as subjects for the idea. Do not, however, select only the thoughts you think are "bad." You will find, if you train yourself to look at your thoughts, that they represent such a mixture that, in a sense, none of them can be called "good" or "bad." This is why they do not mean anything.

In selecting the subjects for the application of today's idea, the usual specificity is required. Do not be afraid to use "good" thoughts as well as "bad." None of them represents your real thoughts, which are being covered up by them. The "good" ones are but shadows of what lies beyond, and shadows make sight difficult. The "bad" ones are blocks to sight, and make seeing impossible. You do not want either.

This is a major exercise, and will be repeated from time to time in somewhat different form. The aim here is to train you in the first steps toward the goal of separating the meaningless from the meaningful. It is a first attempt in the long-range purpose of learning to see the meaningless as outside you, and the meaningful within. It is also the beginning of training your mind to recognize what is the same and what is different.

In using your thoughts for application of the idea for today, identify each thought by the central figure or event it contains; for example:

This thought about _______ does not mean anything. It is like the things I see in this room [on this street, and so on].

You can also use the idea for a particular thought that you recognize as harmful. This practice is useful, but is not a substitute for the more random procedures to be followed for the exercises. Do not, however, examine your mind for more than a minute or so. You are too inexperienced as yet to avoid a tendency to become pointlessly preoccupied.

Further, since these exercises are the first of their kind, you may find the suspension of judgment in connection with thoughts particularly difficult. Do not repeat these exercises more than three or four times during the day. We will return to them later.

Lesson 5, I am never upset for the reason I think.

This idea, like the preceding one, can be used with any person, situation or event you think is causing you pain. Apply it specifically to whatever you believe is the cause of your upset, using the description of the feeling in whatever term seems accurate to you. The upset may seem to be fear, worry, depression, anxiety, anger, hatred, jealousy or any number of forms, all of which will be perceived as different. This is not true. However, until you learn that form does not matter, each form becomes a proper subject for the exercises for the day. Applying the same idea to each of them separately is the first step in ultimately recognizing they are all the same.

When using the idea for today for a specific perceived cause of an upset in any form, use both the name of the form in which you see the upset, and the cause which you ascribe to it. For example:

I am not angry at ______ for the reason I think.
I am not afraid of ______ for the reason I think.

But again, this should not be substituted for practice periods in which you first search your mind for "sources" of upset in which you believe, and forms of upset which you think result.

In these exercises, more than in the preceding ones, you may find it hard to be indiscriminate, and to avoid giving greater weight to some subjects than to others. It might help to precede the exercises with the statement:

There are no small upsets. They are all equally disturbing to my peace of mind.

Then examine your mind for whatever is distressing you, regardless of how much or how little you think it is doing so.

You may also find yourself less willing to apply today's idea to some perceived sources of upset than to others. If this occurs, think first of this:

I cannot keep this form of upset and let the others go. For the purposes of these exercises, then, I will regard them all as the same.

Then search your mind for no more than a minute or so, and try to identify a number of different forms of upset that are disturbing you, regardless of the relative importance you may give them. Apply the idea for today to each of them, using the name of both the source of the upset as you perceive it, and of the feeling as you experience it. Further examples are:

I am not worried about ______ for the reason I think.
I am not depressed about ______ for the reason I think.

Three or four times during the day is enough.

Lesson 6, I am upset because I see something that is not there.

The exercises with this idea are very similar to the preceding ones. Again, it is necessary to name both the form of upset (anger, fear, worry, depression and so on) and the perceived source very specifically for any application of the idea. For example:

I am angry at ______ because I see something that is not there.
I am worried about ______ because I see something that is not there.

Today's idea is useful for application to anything that seems to upset you, and can profitably be used throughout the day for that purpose. However, the three or four practice periods which are required should be preceded by a minute or so of mind searching, as before, and the application of the idea to each upsetting thought uncovered in the search.

Again, if you resist applying the idea to some upsetting thoughts more than to others, remind yourself of the two cautions stated in the previous lesson:

There are no small upsets. They are all equally disturbing to my peace of mind.

And:

I cannot keep this form of upset and let the others go. For the purposes of these exercises, then, I will regard them all as the same.

Lesson 7, I see only the past.

This idea is particularly difficult to believe at first. Yet it is the rationale for all of the preceding ones.

It is the reason why nothing that you see means anything.
It is the reason why you have given everything you see all the meaning that it has for you.
It is the reason why you do not understand anything you see.
It is the reason why your thoughts do not mean anything, and why they are like the things you see.
It is the reason why you are never upset for the reason you think.
It is the reason why you are upset because you see something that is not there.

Old ideas about time are very difficult to change, because everything you believe is rooted in time, and depends on your not learning these new ideas about it. Yet that is precisely why you need new ideas about time. This first time idea is not really so strange as it may sound at first.

Look at a cup, for example. Do you see a cup, or are you merely reviewing your past experiences of picking up a cup, being thirsty, drinking from a cup, feeling the rim of a cup against your lips, having breakfast and so on? Are not your aesthetic reactions to the cup, too, based on past experiences? How else would you know whether or not this kind of cup will break if you drop it? What do you know about this cup except what you learned in the past? You would have no idea what this cup is, except for your past learning. Do you, then, really see it?

Look about you. This is equally true of whatever you look at. Acknowledge this by applying the idea for today indiscriminately to whatever catches your eye. For example:

I see only the past in this pencil.
I see only the past in this shoe. I see only the past in this hand.
I see only the past in that body.
I see only the past in that face.

Do not linger over any one thing in particular, but remember to omit nothing specifically. Glance briefly at each subject, and then move on to the next. Three or four practice periods, each to last a minute or so, will be enough.

The Only Thing Standing Between Me and the Experience of God's Perfection is a Thought

There is a place where I go several times during the day to experience peace, and thank God, it is never very far away. It is my couch. On my left is my desk, piled high with books, and over the top of them I can look out into the woods. In front of me, just beyond the wood-burning stove in the corner to my left, is a window looking out over our lawn and trees and our neighbor's house. To see her house, I look trough hanging chimes and bird feeders and colorful twirlies catching the wind. On my right are windows and the door looking across the lawn to the street and the houses across the way.

Early on this particular morning, a cold day in December, -2 degrees Fahrenheit, I sit down to read the day's Lesson, 346, Today the peace of God envelops me, and I forget all things except His Love.

Father, I wake today with miracles
correcting my perception of all things.
And so begins the day I share with You
as I will share eternity, for time
has stepped aside today. I do not seek
the things of time, and so I will not look
upon them. What I seek today transcends
all laws of time and things perceived in time.
I would forget all things except Your Love.
I would abide in You, and know no laws
except Your law of love. And I would find
the peace which You created for Your Son,
forgetting all the foolish toys I made
as I behold Your glory and my own.

And when the evening comes today, we will
remember nothing but the peace of God.
For we will learn today what peace is ours,
when we forget all things except God's Love.

After reading the Lesson very slowly, sitting here enveloped by peace, I look up and study the yellow twisty twirly hanging in front of the window, absolutely covered with ice, the frozen water having dripped down to a very small point, catching the golden sunlight.


I sit transfixed, experiencing the reflection of my peaceful mind, and then, and then, a thought enters in, shattering the peaceful moment.

This is the thought: "If this house were insulated properly, there wouldn't be icicles."

Am I insane, or what? Are we all insane?

I went on thinking that the heat burns through the ceiling, pushes through the roof, and forms ice dams that melt into icicles, causing high heating bills for natural gas.

So, of course, the Lesson is perfect. I haven't even left my house, and I need a miracle.


Father, I wake today with miracles correcting my perception of all things. And so begins the day I share with You as I will share eternity, for time has stepped aside today.

For a moment, time, indeed, had stepped aside today. But then, it suddenly intruded with a vengeance.

I do not seek the things of time, and so I will not look upon them.

Just then, my wife, Christine, came into the room, and I told her what was going on. I said that now I would sit quietly and ask for help to try to regain my peace, and then look at the icy twirly again.

She said, "Too late."

She was right. I was asking for an outcome based on what "I" wanted. I was not asking to be in eternity with God. I was making the common mistake of asking God for help on my terms.

I do not seek the things of time, and so I will not look upon them.

The answer to a prayer does not lie in things at all.

I would forget all things except Your Love.

And now it flashed on my mind how Jesus is so exacting in his use of words to train our minds to see differently. Dear Reader, look at the word would, above. As I put on my English teacher's hat, I am going to remind you that this is the "conditional tense" of the verb. Using this tense, instead of, say, the future, "will," reminds me that what I experience is conditional on the choice I make between God's Love and fear.

I would abide in You, and know no laws except Your law of love.

If I were successful in forgetting all things, I would abide in God and finding peace, I would transcend the world. Experiencing transcendence is conditional on the choice I make. In every moment I am choosing to invest, either in God, or in thoughts that have no source in Reality. And, of course, there is really no choice at all. There is only God's perfection.

And I would find the peace which You created for Your Son, forgetting all the foolish toys I made as I behold Your glory and my own.

And now I sit and experience peace and open my eyes and see, or rather, experience the peace in the reflection I gaze upon, mirroring the peace in my mind, looking through "things."

And when the evening comes today, we will
remember nothing but the peace of God.
For we will learn today what peace is ours,
when we forget all things except God's Love.

“No BUT’s about it.” Bringing into Application the Principles of A Course in Miracles: Ray and Christine

At Endeavor Academy we have daily morning Sessions, and in the afternoons we have classes where students have an opportunity in smaller, interactive groups to bring into application the principles of A Course in Miracles.

Yesterday, in our class we decided to share our personal mission statements that we had prepared in advance, each of us taking turns standing in front of the class to make our declarations. We listened in hushed silence, marveling at each deeply-felt expressions, each so individual, so powerful. What came to mind is a prism, the single light coming through and manifesting in so many individual, brilliant colors. We are, indeed, bright rays of God's light.

Here is my statement, and then my wife, Christine’s.

“No BUT’s about it.”


My mission, moment-to-moment, is to remember this:

I am not a body. I am free.
For I am still as God created me. Lesson 199

The key here is in the word still; in my stillness of mind I am in the experience of being as God created me. This stillness is marked by the absence of mind-chatter, thoughts that have no source in Reality, thoughts that make up a world that is not Real.

In the book Embraced by the Light, Betty Edie “died” on the operating table, and she said later: My first impression was that I was free. My sense of freedom was limitless, and it seemed as if I had been like this forever.
Yes, we are as God created us before we came into this life, while we are here, and when we return Home.

For me, it is always a matter of forgetting and remembering. When I forget that I am God’s son, I say things like this to my self:

Perception is a mirror, not a fact. Lesson 304

I am in the world, and not of the world.

“It is not what you do, but the state of mind in which you do it,” Brother Laurence.

“No matter where you go, there you are,” Buckaroo Banzai
No matter where you go in time and space, you are home in eternity.

It makes a difference,
But it doesn’t matter.
That which appears to happen seems to make a difference in time and space, and it does not matter in eternity.

I am affected only by my thoughts. Lesson 358


Now, the thing is to be vigilant.

I watch myself very carefully so that when something “bad” happens, I don’t say, “That happened, BUT.” If I say to myself BUT, then I will continue entertaining it in my mind. However, if I say “That happened AND, I will be heading to a state of mind where the negative experience will melt into the peace of God. I am in the world, AND not of the world. I want to say this just happened AND this drama unfolding is not so. Help!

Simply do this. Be still. Lesson 189

And in this stillness I am receptive.
God’s Voice speaks to me all through the day. Lesson 49
In this stillness I am open to hear the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

I particularly like this phrase, “Wear the world like a loose garment.”

From the book, Twenty-Four Hours a Day.

I must live in the world and yet live apart with God. I can go forth from my secret times of communion with God to the work of the world. To get the spiritual strength I need, my inner life must be lived apart from the world. I must wear the world as a loose garment. Nothing in the world should seriously upset me, as long as my inner life is lived with God. All successful living arises from this inner life. March 29

And now I want to look at a brother and say, “Namaste,” the Christ in me greets the Christ in you and be in the experience of it.

My latest practice is to see my “worst enemy” as the Christ because if I see him or her any less, I am not experiencing the Christ in myself, and I am projecting my fears onto him or her, and I am depriving my self of the peace of God, and now I am asking for help to experience this peace, experience the Christ, because I know that in reality:

My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23

I am not a body. I am free.
For I am still as God created me. Lesson 199

* * *

Here is Christine's.

My Mission Statement


Do unto others as you would have them do to you. Luke 6:31

Love your neighbor as yourself. Matthew 22:39

My mission is to immerse myself in God. I Rest in God. In applying this to my being will bring me to quiet, peace and a state of grace. By remaining vigilant and constant moment to moment, I can extend my serenity and peace, remaining in a state of grace. It will be my privilege to give of myself in whatever manner is required.

And as I Rest in God I am renewed. And as I recognize the truth in me, I give myself away in pure extension. By recognizing the Christ in me, I can then see the Christ in everyone I encounter. When greeting a brother, I vow to consciously acknowledge the Christ by saying “Namaste”, the Christ in me greets the Christ in you. This creates a clean slate in my mind to be receptive, activating a channel to receive the Voice of the Holy Spirit. Now I am truly open. It will be my privilege to give to my brother. I will be a light that reflects love and peace and pure extension. I will come to know that, feel that, and understand that everything I see, feel, touch is a emanation of my mind, and when I love my extensions, I can truly love myself. I will rejoice in life because of who I am. I am as God created me. His Son can suffer nothing. And I am His Son.

I am the Son of God. Nobody can contain my spirit, nor impose on me a limitation God created not.

And I remind myself that God wants for me only happiness.

Let me remember love is happiness, and nothing else brings joy. And so I choose to entertain no substitutes for love.

Happy Thanksgiving! All things that live bring gifts to you.

Early this morning I am sitting on the couch,
just looking out the window before doing the Lesson.
I catch some movement off to my right,
and I look over and see the brown leaves on the low-hanging boughs
just above the driveway,
moving up and down and back and forth, joyously.
I look away, scanning the yard, and much to my surprise,
there is no other movement, there is no breeze,
it is utterly still.
It’s as if they are waving just to me,
and I look over and wave back.

There is a light in you which cannot die;
whose presence is so holy that the world
is sanctified because of you. All things
that live bring gifts to you, and offer them
in gratitude and gladness at your feet.
The scent of flowers is their gift to you.
The waves bow down before you, and the trees
extend their arms to shield you from the heat,
and lay their leaves before you on the ground
that you may walk in softness, while the wind
sinks to a whisper round your holy head.
W-p1.156.4

The Fall of the Berlin Wall and Robert Frost's Poem, The Mending Wall

Yesterday, I was reading newspaper articles about the Twentieth Anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, November 9, 1989. While reading, I was surprised and pleased at what came floating into my mind, Robert Frost’s poem, Mending Wall, written long before the Wall went up.

What the poem does is bring out the symbolic significance of the Wall, like a barrier in our minds, a wall of fear and darkness separating us from love and light. Here are the first two lines of the poem:

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it.

The frozen ground-ground swell is like the light penetrating darkness.

Later in the poem, the speaker contrasts this recognition with his neighbor’s idea that 'Good fences make good neighbors', noting that he moves in darkness.

Here is the poem.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

While the theme of the poem is set in the first two lines, the speaker matter-of-factly details the repairing of the wall for the next 23 lines, and then he thinks:

There where it is we do not need the wall.

When he tells this to his neighbor, he can only repeat his father’s saying,
'Good fences make good neighbors.'

Although the speaker does not name what does not love a wall, calling it something, he is aware at some level that it refers to the light and love that he is; at some point along the way, he had caught a glimpse of the truth of his wholeness.

Yet, his neighbor is moving in darkness, aware only of his separateness from God, having learned from his father who was a liar from the beginning in the sense of the human conditioning being passed on, deceiving from generation to generation.

Holiness can never be really hidden in darkness, but you can deceive yourself about it. The deception makes you fearful because you realize in your heart it is a deception and you exert enormous effort to establish its reality. T-1.lV.2:1,2

In this darkness, he moves like an old-stone savage armed.

He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.

This is the darkness of separation in illusion. There is, however, an end to his journey in darkness, and the fall of the Wall gives us a physical demonstration.

There is a hush in Heaven, a happy expectancy, a little pause of gladness in acknowledgement of the journey's end. For Heaven knows you well, as you know Heaven. No illusions stand between you and your brother now. Look not upon the little wall of shadows. The sun has risen over it. How can a shadow keep you from the sun? No more can you be kept by shadows from the light in which illusions end. Every miracle is but the end of an illusion. Such was the journey; such its ending. And in the goal of truth which you accepted must all illusions end.
T-19.lV.6

And the Wall and the illusions came tumbling down.

And all the king’s men and all the king’s horses
couldn’t put Humpty together again.

Simply Letting a Single Thought Melt into Stillness Dismantles an Entire Hallucination

Several weeks ago, three Texas fishermen were rescued from atop their capsized boat in the Gulf of Mexico, after having been stranded for eight days. The men, Tressel Hawkins, 43, James Phillips, 30, and Curtis Hall, 28, were found sitting on their twenty-three foot catamaran, 180 miles from land, having endured hunger, blistering heat, scares from sharks, and hallucinations.

The men rationed their salvaged bubble gum, crackers, beer and chips and used a hose to suck fresh water out of the internal “washdown” tank. Fishermen often keep such a tank to wash fish slime off their boat when they are out in the salt water. “We’d eat crackers one day, and then a handful of chips,” Phillips said. “Everything tasted like gasoline and saltwater.” (Texas Boaters Fought Heat and Hunger, USA Today, 8/31/2009, Section 1, p. 1)

What first caught my attention in this account is that they started hallucinating about the fourth or fifth day.

“We started hallucinating about people dropping off food and water,” Phillips said. “And we were talking to them, but they weren’t there.” (Texas Boaters, p. 1)

What is fascinating to me is how Hawkins, in particular, dealt with his hallucinations.

Hawkins said he initially wondered whether his rescuers were another figment of his imagination. “My first reaction was, ‘Is this really real?’ You must have to kind of sit back and say is this real or hallucination. You have to wake yourself up three or four times to make sure it is real.” (Texas Boaters, p. 1)

Now, what you and I know, and Hawkins may not, is that he is continuing to hallucinate now while safe at home, and we do, too, when we are not experiencing the peace of God and seeing with the eyes of Christ. We hallucinate each moment we take for real the dream that we are making up by believing that what we see with our eyes has reality, believing in our miscreations. We hallucinate when we listen to the voice of the ego, rather than the Voice for God. This is one way Jesus expresses it in A Course in Miracles.

The distractions of the ego may seem to interfere with your learning, but the ego has no power to distract you unless you give it the power to do so. The ego’s voice is an hallucination. T-8.l.2:1-2

The root meaning of the word distract is helpful here. It comes from the Latin, distractus, meaning “to draw away from.” We can choose not to give into the temptation of being drawn away from experiencing the peace of God. We can stand still for a moment and question the reality of our dream. Hawkins teaches us to kind of sit back and say is this real or hallucination. He did not, automatically, give it power.

You cannot expect it to say “I am not real.” Yet you are not asked to dispel your hallucinations alone. You are merely asked to evaluate them in terms of their results to you. If you do not want them on the basis of loss of peace, they will be removed from your mind for you. T-8.l.2:3-6

The word hallucinate comes from the Latin hallucinatus, meaning “to wander in the mind, in the sense of to have an illusion.” When we wander from the state of mind of the peace of God, we end up distracted by images in time and space, walking through an illusory world of our own making, believing it to be real.

Jesus tells us very early in His Text:

You are much too tolerant of mind wandering, and are passively condoning your mind’s miscreations. T-2.VI.4: 6

What if you recognized this world is an hallucination? What if you really understood you made it up? What if you realized that those who seem to walk about in it, to sin and die, attack and murder and destroy themselves, are wholly unreal? Could you have faith in what you see, if you accepted this? And would you see it? T-20.Vlll.7.3:3-7

Hallucinations disappear when they are recognized for what they are.

That is why I love so much the lesson that Hawkins teaches.

“My first reaction was, ‘Is this really real?’ You must have to kind of sit back and say is this real or hallucination.

My God! That’s all I have to do. I just have to step back for a moment and ask if this is real?

This is Lesson 155, I will step back and let Him lead the way.

The world is an illusion. Those who choose
to come to it are seeking for a place
where they can be illusions, and avoid
their own reality. Yet when they find
their own reality is even here,
then they step back and let it lead the way.
What other choice is really theirs to make?
To let illusions walk ahead of truth
is madness. But to let illusion sink
behind the truth and let the truth stand forth
as what it is, is merely sanity.
W-p1.155.2

This is Lesson 182, I will be still an instant and go home.

When you are still an instant, when the world
recedes from you, when valueless ideas
cease to have value in your restless mind,
then will you hear His Voice. So poignantly
He calls to you that you will not resist
Him longer. In that instant He will take
you to His home, and you will stay with Him
in perfect stillness, silent and at peace,
beyond all words, untouched by fear and doubt,
sublimely certain that you are at home.
W-p182.8



For the past couple of weeks, I have been actively practicing stepping back and being still. It came to me one night just before going to bed, while I was sitting quietly, simply being aware of breathing in and breathing out, that I could practice doing this during the day from moment to moment, when I remembered, particularly, when I found myself hallucinating.

This also coincides with the fact that I have been memorizing this passage from Lesson 189, I feel the love of God within me now.

Simply do this: Be still, and lay aside
all thoughts of what you are and what God is;
all concepts you have learned about the world;
all images you hold about yourself.
Empty your mind of everything it thinks
is either true or false, or good or bad,
of every thought it judges worthy, and
all the ideas of which it is ashamed.
Hold onto nothing. Do not bring with you
one thought the past has taught, nor one belief
you ever learned before from anything.
Forget this world, forget this course, and come
with wholly empty hands unto your God.
W-p1.189.7

I realized that I was beginning to live into the meaning of this passage by simply taking these steps.

1. Be aware of breathing in and out.

2. Ask for help to let go of thoughts.

3. Be present and receptive.

So, I am walking down the street, and I come face to face with a brother against whom I have a grievance; recognizing my hallucination, I breathe in and out and ask for help to let it go, and I become present and receptive, smile, nod my head in greeting, and walk on by.

I am becoming increasingly intolerant of mind wandering.

And now it comes to me to express it this way:

A single thought melts away in stillness,
dismantling an entire hallucination,
making way for the state of mind of the peace of God.

"The brain can think, and the eyes can see." "Nonsense!"

I came across an article in The New York Times a couple of days ago that summarizes research that demonstrates, empirically, exactly how our brains lure us into causal loops, making us believe that we are seeing something real going on outside of ourselves. The article is entitled, “Brain is a Co-Conspirator in a Vicious Stress Loop,” and here is the first paragraph.

If after a few months’ exposure to our David Lynch economy, in which housing markets spontaneously combust, coworkers mysteriously disappear and the stifled moans of dying 401K plans can be heard through the floorboards, you have the awful sensation that your body’s stress response has taken on a self-replicating and ultimately self-defeating life of its own, congratulations. You are very perceptive. It has. Researchers have discovered that the sensation of being highly stressed can rewire the brain in ways that promote its sinister persistence. (Natalie Angier, "Brain is a Co-Conspirator in a Vicious Stress Loop, " Science, p. 18-19, August 18, 2009)

The researchers discovered that highly-stressed rats actually underwent physical changes in their brains’ neural circuitry.

On the one hand, regions of the brain associated with executive decision-making and goal-directed behaviors had shriveled, while, conversely, brain sectors linked to habit formation had bloomed. “Behaviors become habitual faster in stressed animals than in the controls, and worse, the stressed animals can’t shift back to goal-directed behaviors when that would be the better approach,” Dr. Sousa said. “I call this a vicious circle.” (Brain, p. 18)

Just now, much to my surprise, a voice came into my mind, shouting, “Nonsense! The brain cannot think, and the eyes cannot see!” That’s a familiar voice, it is the plucky Alice of Alice in Wonderland. Just after entering the rabbit-hole, she found herself only a little startled seeing the Cheshire Cat, astride a branch. She even stood up to the nasty Queen who looked at her and said, “Off with her head.” “Nonsense!” said Alice, very loudly and decidedly, and the Queen was silent. Her “decidedly” echoes my certainty that the images our brains present to us are no more real than Alice’s bizarre adventures down the rabbit-hole.

It is for this reason that Jesus begins His Workbook of A Course in Miracles with this Lesson, Nothing I see means anything. In the Text He refers to the brain’s illusory interpretations.

The brain interprets to the body, of which it is a part. But what it says you cannot understand. Yet you have listened to it. And long and hard you tried to understand its messages.T-22.l.2:9-11

You cannot understand the brain’s interpretations because they are not real.

Nothing real can be threatened.
Nothing unreal exists.
Herein, lies the peace of God.

That which is real cannot be seen because it is invisible, intangible—Truth, Love, Joy, Peace.

That which is unreal is visible, tangible—the brain, the body, the eyes and the images they make. This is our human conditioning. Our father was a liar from the beginning.

Children are born into the world through pain and in pain. Their growth is attended by suffering, and they learn of sorrow and separation and death. Their minds seem to be trapped in their brain, and its powers to decline if their bodies are hurt. T-13.In.2:4-6

Children, like Alice, fall into a rabbit-hole, an illusion, a dream.

For the content of individual illusions differs greatly. Yet they have one thing in common, they are all insane. They are made of sights that are not seen, and sounds that are not heard. They make up a private world that cannot be shared. For they are meaningful only to their maker, and so they have no meaning at all. In this world their maker moves alone, for only he perceives them. T-13.V.1:4-9

The problem is that we forget the fall, and we become entranced by the images our eyes see and the sounds the ears hear, not realizing that there is another way of seeing, seeing through the eyes of Christ.

We are on a mission here to learn to see truly, to see with vision, and we cannot do this alone because we are constantly deceived by seeing through blind eyes. And we are not alone. The Holy Spirit will guide us to see through the brain’s sleeping eyes, so that we can recognize the vision of Christ. It is a matter of remembering and forgetting; forgetting, i.e., relinquishing the sights and sounds projected by our brains, and remembering to see with the eyes of Christ. This is an awakening to the real and letting go the unreal. T-12.Vl.4

The researchers studying the brains of the stressed rats were joyously surprised to learn that the changes in behavior and brains could be reversed. That is, although, the induced stress caused particular sections of the brain to shrivel, they found that pampering the rats particular parts of the brain “resprouted.”

But with only four weeks’ vacation in a supportive setting free of bullies and Tasers, the formerly stressed rats looked just like the controls, able to innovate, discriminate and lay off the bar. Atrophied synaptic connections in the decisive regions of the prefrontal cortex resprouted, while the overgrown dendritic vines of the habit-prone sensorimotor striatum retreated. (Brain, p. 19)

The "resprouting" of the atrophied synaptic connections is, of course, looked on as favorable, and this is a real temptation while looking through eyes that cannot see. We tend to see dualities, e.g., a stressful, or non-stressful situation, sad or happy, good or bad, and we try to find a solution more favorable rather than less favorable, forgetting that we are looking at completely illusory situations, dream-figures of our own making, characters at the bottom of a rabbit-hole.

So, it always comes down to the basics. When I see an image and respond to it stressfully, or non-stressfully, for that matter, I ask for help to remember that it is not so, it is not real, it is a dream, and ask to see through the images with vision, with the eyes of Christ, thereby, experiencing truth and love and peace.

At the end of Alice in Wonderland, we discover what we may have suspected all along—Alice Liddel, the young girl Charles Dodgson based his story on, was dreaming all the time. She finds herself in her sister’s lap, dreaming that cards are fluttering down all around her, and she wakes up discovering her sister brushing leaves off of her face.

Here is the way I expressed it in the last section of a poem in blank verse I once wrote about Alice, entitled The Wonder of Alice.

At this the whole pack of cards rose up in
the air, and came flying down on Alice
Liddel, lying on her sister’s soft lap;
she was gently brushing away some dead
leaves that had come fluttering down from the
trees upon her face. So Alice got up
and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well
she might, what a curious, wonderful dream.

If you wish to read the poem in its entirety, please click here.

Scissoring Our Dream Out of Unity

Leafing through A Course in Miracles the other day, I came across a copy of a poem paper-clipped to Lesson 184, The Name of God is my inheritance, entitled The Way by Albert Goldbarth. It is faded and yellowed, and I probably cut it out of The New Yorker some time ago.

THE WAY

The sky is random. Even calling it “sky”
is an attempt to make a meaning, say,
a shape, from the humanly visible part
of shapelessness in endlessness. It’s what
we do, in some ways it’s entirely what
we do—and so the devastating rose

of a galaxy’s being born, the fatal lame
of another’s being torn and dying, we frame
in the lenses of our super-duper telescopes the way
we would those other completely incomprehensible
fecund and dying subjects at a family picnic.
Making them “subjects.” “Rose.” “Lame.” The way

our language scissors the enormity to scales
we can tolerate. The way we gild and rubricate
in memory, or edit out selectively.
An infant’s gentle snoring, even, apportions
the eternal. When they moved to the boonies,
Dorothy Wordsworth measured their walk

to Crewkerne—then the nearest town—
by pushing a device invented especially
for such a project, a “perambulator”: seven miles.
Her brother William pottered at his daffodils poem.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance: by which he meant
too many to count, but could only say it in counting.

I find this poem to be a remarkable description of how we make up an illusory world.

The sky is random.

I am sitting on our deck on a warm, sunny day in August, and I casually glance about me, seeing the bird feeder, the chimes, the trees, and the sky. I am simply looking, randomly, defined as “occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern.” Yet, I automatically name things, cutting each thing out of the whole, selecting one thing at a time by symbolizing it with a name.

You live by symbols. You have made up names
for everything you see. Each one becomes
a separate entity, identified
by its own name. By this you carve it out
of unity.
W-p1.184.1:1-4

Even calling it “sky”
is an attempt to make a meaning, say,
a shape, from the humanly visible part
of shapelessness in endlessness.

And once again, this is wired into our brains. In an article in the newspaper today, Michael Shermer, an author who studies how the brain functions says this:

We are pattern-seeking primates. We connect the dots, and often they really are connected. We just assume all patterns are real. You can show people a random collection of anything and they will find a pattern.(The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, August 2, 2009, p. A9.)

What is humanly visible we consider real, and what is shapeless and endless we consider unreal. The poet, Albert Goldbarth, intuits that this is what we do, and unfortunately for us, it is almost all that we do.

It’s what
we do, in some ways it’s entirely what
we do—

This is the way reality is made
by partial vision, purposefully set
against the given truth. Its enemy
is wholeness. It conceives of little things
and looks upon them.
W-p1.184.4:1-3

and so the devastating rose
of a galaxy’s being born, the fatal lame
of another’s being torn and dying, we frame
in the lenses of our super-duper telescopes the way
we would those other completely incomprehensible
fecund and dying subjects at a family picnic.

Even the birth of a galaxy, however huge it seems, is small because it is unreal. Even the beautiful metaphors of devastating rose and fatal lame do not make it real. In the phrase, super-duper telescopes, I saw the word “dupe.” We are always being duped by what we see and name, our own projections, reminding me of this sentence from out of the past: Whether we are looking into a telescope, or into a microscope, we are always looking only at the back of our heads.”

“Dupe” becomes even stronger when its origins become clear. It comes from (tête) d'uppe, or “head of a bird thought to be especially stupid.” You gotta to love it. We are stupid birds believing our illusions.

Even our family members seem to be getting old and sick and dying because we see them as illusions, as subjects, not as the truth of what they are, children of God.

They are made of sights that are not seen, and sounds that are not heard. They make up a private world that cannot be shared. For they are meaningful only to their maker, and so they have no meaning at all. In this world their maker moves alone, for only he perceives them. W-13.V.1:6-9

Making them “subjects.” “Rose.” “Lame.” The way

our language scissors the enormity to scales
we can tolerate. The way we gild and rubricate
in memory, or edit out selectively.
an infant’s gentle snoring, even, apportions
the eternal.

Once again, Goldbarth intuits that space and time are carved out of unity, and we cut by scissoring with language. This is seeing with the body’s eyes, partial vision, purposefully set against the given truth.

And yet, there is only one vision, seeing with the eyes of Christ, the other vision.

Yet does this other vision still remain
a natural direction for the mind
to channel its perception. It is hard
to teach the mind a thousand alien names,
and thousands more. Yet you believe this is
what learning means; its one essential goal
by which communication is achieved,
and concepts can be meaningfully shared.
W-p.1.184.5

When they moved to the boonies,
Dorothy Wordsworth measured their walk

to Crewkerne—then the nearest town—
by pushing a device invented especially
for such a project, a “perambulator”: seven miles.
Her brother William pottered at his daffodils poem.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance: by which he meant
too many to count, but could only say it in counting.

It is with a sure hand that Goldbarth ends his poem by evoking William Wordsworth (1770-1850). Wordsworth knew, first hand, that we are of God, not of man. Here is a famous stanza from his poem, Intimations of Immortality.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
hath had elsewhere its setting,
and cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
but trailing clouds of glory do we come
from God, who is our home.
59-66

Wordsworth experienced resting in God, our true nature, even though he referred to the daffodils by “counting;” for him it was simply a convenient metaphor. Here is the last part of Wordsworth’s poem, I wandered lonely as a cloud.

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
in such a jocund company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
what wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
in vacant or in pensive mood,
they flash upon that inward eye
which is the bliss of solitude;
and then my heart with pleasure fills,
and dances with the daffodils.

He captures perfectly what it means to step back from seeing with the body’s eyes, and in the bliss of solitude experiences seeing with the inward eye, seeing with Christ vision.

It is not completely clear to me why Goldbarth entitled his poem, The Way. I will assume that he is resting in the unity and wholeness of his true identity, knowing that there is no world, other than the illusory one we make by seeing through only the body’s eyes. I trust I am on the right track because Goldbarth does use the phrase in this manner three times in his poem:

the way we would. . .

the way our language scissors

the way we gild and rubricate

If so, he recognizes that only by demonstrating exactly how we scissor our dream out of unity and wholeness is the way we come to experience another way of seeing.

Jesus said unto them,
Verily, verily, I say unto you,
Before Abraham was, I am.
John 8:58

And Jesus expresses it this way in today’s lesson, 224, God is my Father, and He loves His Son.

My true Identity is so secure,
so lofty, sinless, glorious and great,
wholly beneficent and free from guilt,
that Heaven looks to It to give it light.
It lights the world as well. It is the gift
my Father gave to me; the one as well
I give the world. There is no gift but This
that can be either given or received.
This is reality, and only This.
This is illusion's end. It is the truth.

My Name, O Father, still is known to You.
I have forgotten It, and do not know
where I am going, who I am, or what
it is I do. Remind me, Father, now,
for I am weary of the world I see.
Reveal what You would have me see instead.
W-p11.224

The way means to ask for help to be reminded of the truth of what I am, so that I can learn to see through my illusory world of time and space, and experience in its place the peace of God, seeing with the inward eye.

Jesus saith unto him:
I am the way, the truth and the life.
John 14:6

Hamlet's, "There is nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so," and Jesus' Course in Miracles.

Early in the second act of Hamlet, King Claudius secretly summons Hamlet’s school chums, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, from Germany to spy on Hamlet who suspects that Claudius, his father’s brother, recently usurped the throne after having poisoned his father. When they first meet, Hamlet is surprised and asks them what they have done to deserve being sent to prison. They ask him what he is talking about, and he says that Denmark is a prison. They disagree, and Hamlet speaks this famous line, “There is nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so.” (Hamlet.11.2:251)

This sentence can be broken down into three parts:

1) There is nothing

For a split-second, I am always only looking at a blank slate.
No thing I look at and give a name to exist at all.

2) but thinking makes it so

I keep missing the fact that nothing exists until my thinking, automatically, brings it into existence.

Things but represent the thoughts that made them.
(W-p1.187.2:3)

Our brains in conjunction with our senses write on the blank slate.

3) good or bad

I quickly preoccupy my thinking by automatically slipping into judgment.

In the context of A Course in Miracles, that is a powerful sentence coming to us from across the centuries, echoing the title of Jesus’ Lesson 1, Nothing I see means anything. The lesson begins with this sentence: The reason this is so is that I see nothing, and nothing has no meaning. This is followed by Lesson 2, I have given everything I see all the meaning it has for me, and the first sentence reads: I have judged everything I look upon, and it is this and only this I see.

Obviously, Jesus begins his 365 Lessons by making clear and precise the problem we face. We take for granted, for granite, that what we see is trustworthy, and we walk around with the strongly ingrained belief that “seeing is believing.” His Lessons enable us to practice learning that what we see is illusory, of our own making, and that we can learn to see differently; we can learn to see with vision.

What I think I see now is taking the place of vision. I must let it go by realizing it has no meaning, so that vision may take its place.
(W-p1.51.1:4,5)

I am willing to recognize the lack of validity in my judgments, because I want to see. My judgments have hurt me, and I do not want to see according to them.
(51.2:5,6)

Overcoming my conditioning that “seeing is believing” is, obviously, a giant obstacle. In addition to the Lessons, it does help to see a clear demonstration that it is the judging brain that uses the eyes to “see,” but this is not vision. (In a recent blog post, “Stick out your tongue and look at me: Images we see in the world are first formed deep in our brains," I use the BrainPort to demonstrate this.)

Recently, I came across a fascinating article demonstrating that we are more than a brain, more than a body and brain, more than our sensory perceptions, more than our petty judgments. When we manage to strip away our nothingness, we can come to experience our wholeness. The article demonstrates what we are without our brains; we are souls.

In 1991, Pam Reynolds was found to have an aneurysm on her brain stem. Faced with a ticking time bomb, she opted for an experimental operation called a "cardiac standstill." The surgeons put her under anesthesia, taped her eyes shut and put molded speakers in her ears that emitted loud clicks, about as loud as a jet plane taking off. When her brain no longer responded to those clicks, the surgeons lowered her body temperature to 60 degrees and drained the blood out of her head, like draining oil from the engine of a car. The aneurysm sac collapsed for lack of blood. The surgeons drilled into her skull, snipped the aneurysm and sewed it up, and then reintroduced the blood into her body.

Finally, they raised her body temperature and brought her back to consciousness.

When Reynolds awakened, she had a story to tell. She said she floated upward and watched part of the operation. She could describe what the operating theater looked like and how many surgeons there were. She could describe the unusual-looking bone saw that cut open her head, as well as the drill bits and blade container. She heard conversations, including one in which a female surgeon observed that Reynolds' left femoral vein was too small for a tube, to which the chief neurosurgeon responded, "Try the right side."

Records from the surgery confirmed all these details. Reynolds' neurosurgeon says he is flummoxed by the episode: "From a scientific perspective," he told me, "I have absolutely no explanation about how it could have happened."

Her story raises the question: Was Reynolds' consciousness operating separately from her brain?

Reynolds' experience — and that of many others — is prompting researchers at institutions such as the University of Montreal and the University of Virginia to investigate the astonishing proposition that a person might have a consciousness — or (gasp) a soul — that can operate when the brain is off-line. (Barbara Bradley Hagerty, The God Choice, USA TODAY, June 22, 2009, p. 9A)

It is always fun to see an empirical demonstration of the truth of what we are.

I am not a body. I am free.
For I am still as God created me.
(W-p1.RVI.Intro.3:3-5)

No matter what my brain tells me, I am still, i.e., I remain as God created me; and I am the stillness of God’s creation. That which I am has been expressed with a variety of words—soul, mind, the Christ, God’s Son, Atman, spirit, light, Self.

You are one Self, united and secure in
light and joy and peace. You are God's Son,
one Self, with one Creator and one goal;
to bring awareness of this oneness to
all minds, that true creation may extend
the allness and the unity of God.
You are one Self, complete and healed and whole,
with power to lift the veil of darkness from
the world, and let the light in you come through
to teach the world the truth about yourself.
(W-p1.95.12)

All we are asked to do, and it is everything, is to forget, relinquish, forgive our small self, and the world it projects. We are asked to recognize that nothing is good, or bad, but my "stinking" thinking makes it so. And this nothingness is all going on in a small, dark place in the back of my brain, and it is that that I write on the blank slate.

Just for a moment, let me step back and ask for help to forgive what I have made, now.

Forgiveness gently looks upon all things
unknown in Heaven, sees them disappear,
and leaves the world a clean and unmarked slate
on which the Word of God can now replace
the senseless symbols written there before.
Forgiveness is the means by which the fear
of death is overcome, because it holds
no fierce attraction now and guilt is gone.
Forgiveness lets the body be perceived
as what it is; a simple teaching aid,
to be laid by when learning is complete,
but hardly changing him who learns at all.
(W-p1.192.4)

And I must be constant, I must be exceedingly vigilant, I must be determined, because the brain and body unite to convince me to turn away from the truth of what I am. The brain and body present a strong case. The temptation is great to accept what the brain offers.

For example, just do this:

1. While sitting at your desk in front of your computer, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.

2. Now, while doing this, draw the number ‘6’ in the air with your right hand.

3. Notice that your foot now changes directions, moving counter-clockwise.

Our brains have a mind of their own, if you will, and we cannot seem to will it otherwise. But the good thing is there is only God's Will, and our brains/bodies are not real. Jesus makes this absolutely clear in His Introduction to the Course.

Nothing real can be threatened.

What is real is truth, light, peace, joy, serenity, God, infinity.

Nothing unreal exists.

What is unreal is made by the brain and body senses, and it is finite.

Herein, lies the peace of God.

Recognizing the truth and relinquishing, forgiving, what is not so gives us peace.

At the end of the pay, Horatio holds the dying Hamlet in his arms, and he says his last words, The rest is silence.

Horatio: Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

Returning to God on earth as in Heaven is resting in silence, stillness, and peace.

The Holy Spirit: The Great Corrector

Right now I am using Microsoft Word to type this essay. I notice that when I misspell a word, an unseen program automatically corrects it. For example, this is how I just typed c-o-r-e-c-t, and as I hit the space bar to go to the next word, the program instantly corRected it. In effect, the mistake was instantly forgiven.

There is an invisible program running in the background that is guiding my every keystroke. Although I cannot see it, I experience its effects. Its correction is automatic. It uses what I type to make it right. I just make mistakes. There is no guilt in that; there is no shame. I can trust this program. I can trust what is invisible. It is just a matter of typing away, and when it is right it is right, and when I make a mistake, it is simply an offering to be corrected.

Of course, the program running in the background is analogous to the Holy Spirit's invisible presence within us. The typing mistakes are simply illusions and dreams. The Holy Spirit bridges the gap, carrying us to truth and reality, as bodily mistakes are forgiven.

In this manner, misspellings are dispelled.

The Holy Spirit mediates between
illusions and the truth. Since He must bridge
the gap between reality and dreams,
perception leads to knowledge through the grace
that God has given Him, to be His gift to
everyone who turns to Him for truth.
Across the bridge that He provides are dreams
all carried to the truth, to be dispelled
before the light of knowledge. There are sights
and sounds forever laid aside. And where
they were perceived before, forgiveness has
made possible perception's tranquil end.
W-p11. 7. What is the Holy Spirit? 1

Just as the Microsoft program replaces mistakes with accuracy, the Holy Spirit replaces worldly errors with Eternal Truth.
The goal the Holy Spirit's teaching sets
is just this end of dreams. For sights and sounds
must be translated from the witnesses
of fear to those of love. And when this is
entirely accomplished, learning has
achieved the only goal it has in truth.
For learning, as the Holy Spirit guides
it to the outcome He perceives for it,
becomes the means to go beyond itself,
to be replaced by the Eternal Truth.
7:2

It is just a matter of offering to the Holy Spirit our mistaken key strokes, our fearful images and dreams. They can be utilized for another purpose.

If you but knew how much your Father yearns
to have you recognize your sinlessness,
you would not let His Voice appeal in vain,
nor turn away from His replacement for
the fearful images and dreams you made.
The Holy Spirit understands the means
you made, by which you would attain what is
forever unattainable. And if
you offer them to Him, He will employ
the means you made for exile to restore
your mind to where it truly is at home.
7:3

I also notice that when I do not space the wordscorrectly, a red line appears beneath the words, reminding me to go back and leave a space. When I see that red line, I need but stop a moment, return to the underlined words, place the cursor between them, hit the space bar, and in that moment, in that stillness, the words separate (words correctly) and the red line disappears.

From knowledge, where He has been placed by God,
the Holy Spirit calls to you, to let
forgiveness rest upon your dreams, and be
restored to sanity and peace of mind.
Without forgiveness will your dreams remain
to terrify you. And the memory
of all your Father's Love will not return
to signify the end of dreams has come.
7:4

The program is a gift, replacing my wayward key strokes with correct ones. Thy will be done. Not mine. Learning to stand still for a moment and asking for help to be corrected is my only function.

Accept your Father's gift. It is a Call
from Love to Love, that It be but Itself.
The Holy Spirit is His gift, by which
the quietness of Heaven is restored
to God's beloved Son. Would you refuse
to take the function of completing God,
when all He wills is that you be complete?
7:5

I walk down the street now, fully trusting the Holy Spirit's correction, and I find that when this judgment or that judgment appears on the screen of my mind, these ideas come to my awareness for a moment, and then they are washed away, leaving a clean slate, making way for heavenly thoughts.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
Matthew.6:10