Through The Eyes Of A Fish

A simple fish is a living creature, a form of life that likely predates humankind.  Consider what existence on Earth looks like through the eyes of a fish.  It is born, grows to maturity, and ultimately dies, either from old age or a fatal event.  During that lifetime, there is food to be gathered and eaten, chores to attend to, and a responsibility to reproduce and sustain the fish community.  Not unlike our human existence.

There are many kinds of fish.  Little ones, big ones, huge ones.  Fish of a variety of colors and shapes.  Surrounded by other fish – different in specific form, but nonetheless still “fish.”  They live in water, the only home they know.  The only home they can survive in.  The water of streams, rivers, lakes, or the great oceans.  Water that comes in various flavors: with or without salt, with varying levels of needed oxygen, with similarly varying levels of unwanted pollution.  Some fish are unique to particular kinds or locations of water; others are found across many parts of the globe.  Most fish stay pretty close to one place in their watery home; others are more nomadic and travel great distances in fulfilling their life.

In water, light is a variable, stratified in layers from the top of the water to the bottom.  But what is “top” or “bottom” to a fish, versus simply “water”?  There is a portion of its home that is less dark.  And at some point it can discover a difference kind of substance that is unlike the usual watery home, a dense material that cannot be swum through.  It is what we call “the bottoms,” filled with mud, rock, and perhaps some kind of plant life.  No swimming through that, just a barrier to avoid.  And, in fact, a fixed boundary to the watery home.

This is the Life that a fish knows, the images a fish sees.  Living perpetually in this liquid substance encompassed by strata of light and a stratum of non-liquid.  Such is the definition of what “life on earth” means – to a fish.  It is a much more limited understanding than we human beings have.  We know of land, of mountains, of trees, of sky, of clouds.  We live in air, not water, though we can experience water for short periods.  We know a fish, but a fish does not know of us.  But do we truly know “us”?

The fish believes that he knows all of Creation based upon its own personal vision and experience.  We know of a bigger Creation based upon our personal vision and experience.  But are we just as blind as the fish, trapped in our own confused Lake of Existence?

We so often fall into the trap of thinking that we are human beings, so we know what “being human” means.  We live somewhere, so we understand all the other “somewheres.”  But while we share some commonalities among ourselves to being human, we share just as many differences which we often neither understand nor acknowledge.

The spiritual challenge is whether we continue to live the limited myopia of the fish, that “what I see is what I know which is all there is.”  Or whether we use our extra human capabilities to not think “I understand it all,” but to acknowledge “how little I truly know of the vastness of what there is to know.”  And then leave our comfortable pond to explore the richness of contrasting worlds, different than our own.

The true spiritualist knows that every door of insight is simply an opening to the next door of insight.  Never truly fully knowing, but always learning.  Like the fish, we are perpetually swimming in the confined waters of our life.  Unlike the fish, we have the potential to see a fuller bigness of Life.  But only if we first admit our true ignorance of it.  It is only when we do not know that we can then know the full majesty of Life.

© 2014   Randy Bell               www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com

Pride And Arrogance

Most religions teach us that pride is bad for us, one of the great moral sins.  With good reason, because unwarranted pride leads us away from humility.  And humility is one of the fundamental requirements for finding our way with and to God, as well as a primary building-block for interpersonal relationships in this more earthly realm.

Nevertheless, in small doses, applied sparingly, within a proper framework, perhaps a little bit of pride on occasion can be a good thing.  We slog our way through life, moving constantly from one challenge to the next in seemingly endless sequence.  Stopping to recognize what has been achieved, where we have come to, the differences we have made, can be an important step in helping to keep us on spiritual track.  When we have done well in our pursuits, a little breath of pride in our mental lungs can create a refreshing pause in our labors, a reserve of fresh air to energize us for the next inevitable pursuit.  It gives us a moment to reflect on what has been done, a reflection we need to make.  If such a pride better motivates and directs us to our next spiritual sequence, then we can be forgiven for such a moment of self-satisfaction.

But what is that “proper framework” we spoke of for our prideful indulgence?  First, we understand that such pride is very short-lived; we do not seek to unduly extend that moment beyond its natural expiration.  Second, we recognize that whatever it is in which we take pride, whatever outcomes we think we caused, they are only temporary phenomena.  These too will pass away in their own natural time, regardless of whatever we may try to do to prevent it.  The monuments we build to our self-importance are rarely forever-lasting.

Third, we acknowledge all those who helped make possible our outcomes, those who provided the opportunities, education, resources, funding, and encouragement that enable what we do.  However much we may try to believe that “I” did these things, in truth it is all the “we’s” who achieved it together through me.  Fourth, we accept that our accomplishment does not make us better than any other being.  Being “better” causes us to separate our self from others, based upon an external measure of us, thereby forgetting the equal spiritual worth of all humankind.  So we do our work quietly, forgoing bragging.  True pride lives inside of us; it does not require the praise of others.

And fifth, we accept how easily our successful outcome could have been just the opposite.  Fate turns not on a wide curve of circumstances, but on the slightest fissure in the road.  When we study the history of any great endeavor, any large project or military campaign, any great biography, the margin of “error” for any undertaking is miniscule.  Is it luck, is it karma, is it fate, is it Providential handiwork that sends us left instead of right at some precisely critical moment?

It is when we lose sight of these qualifiers that simple human pride becomes arrogance.  When we believe that our current accomplishment was due solely to our own effort, our own solitary achievement, and our road is the only road to be followed, our life begins to be built on a foundation of sand.  A foundation just waiting to be washed away by a future storm of Life.  Will we then blame others for the failure we experience, while we credit ourselves only for our successes and accomplishments?

As we look at our large new house, our current-year automobile, our large paycheck, our college diploma on the wall, our “perfect children” in school, we need to remember where in fact these all came from.  We may have been fortunate enough to be the willing channel for the gifts of many that resulted in a benefit for our self.  We can take some limited pride in being a part of that result.  But when we believe that the result started and ended with our self, then we begin to live in arrogance.  And when we choose to live on that dangerous precipice, sooner or later Life will always find a way to teach arrogance the necessary humility it needs to learn.

© 2014  Randy Bell                www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com

Listening To The Universe

A previous blog posting (“Thinking Versus Listening,” October 9, 2014) focused on the subtle but significant difference between “thinking” with our mind versus “listening” to that inner voice that exists within each of us.  Once we are skilled at listening to that inner Self, we then open ourselves to listening on a much broader scope.  Listening to God and all of the Universe.

In whatever form we choose to envision and name that greater Spirit, the God/Universe that surrounds us “speaks” to all of us often.  In re-action to our requests and calls to the Universe; in pro-action to help guide us to our greater purpose and benefit – even when we may not realize we need such guidance.  Yet there are many who believe God talks to no one, that those who claim such communication are at best delusional, at worst self-indulgent frauds.  And they can be quite vocal in their condemnation and disdain towards such claims.

For those who confidently accept that the Universe speaks to them, the vehicle(s) for such communication can come through different sources.  Some “hear” the words directly in their thoughts, but as a separate and distinguishable “voice.”  That voice may be sensed as from God, from one’s own “guides” or angels, or from known family or associates that have previously passed on.  For some, the words come through the hand, dictated into written form.  Alternately, the words may come through other people, perhaps in a formal “channeling” style of speech.  Or perhaps just a simple sentence or two someone says in seemingly normal conversation.  In those instances, there is just something about the essence of the words, said in that particular moment, that forcefully grabs our attention.  Somehow we just know something important was said, so we listen closely, interpret carefully, and act accordingly.

God speaks to us in the medium, language and style that are unique to us.  Not in some ancient biblical-speak or divine-speak, or in some Hollywood imagined-speak, but in the everyday conversation that is natural to us.  It is all customized to each of us individually.  At times that may cause us doubt its authenticity, or wonder if we are having an imagined conversation with our own Self, and so we are required to learn to distinguish carefully between the two.  But all great spiritual teachers speak in the language of their listeners, and so does God.  God does not speak Hebrew to an Argentinian; God speaks in Spanish.

Absent the spoken/written word, the Universe draws on every imaginable method and opportunity to communicate with us.  Life events; our successes and failures; people moving in and out of our life journey; events of nature.  These forms of communication are subtle and can be easily skipped over.  They require us to “listen” with sensitive eyes/ears/mind, but they are equally valid and powerful aspects of “divine speech.”  They require us to sharpen our instinct of recognition, be constantly alert for such messages, and recognize the patterns of synchronicity that occur in our life.  Things truly do happen for a reason.

To hear God, we must be willing.  Not just desirous, but truly open and willing.  Willing to hear no matter what the message may be.  Because it will often be a message that we do not really want to hear in that moment.  God tells us What we need to hear, When we need to hear it, in the dosage we are able to absorb.  The long-term goals and outcomes may or may not be made clear, but the steps and timing to get there are typically maddingly vague.

There are also times when the conversation ends, for however varyingly long a period.  The Universe does not speak when there is nothing new to say, or when there would only be repetition of what we have already chosen to reject, or when the time for new conversation has not yet arrived.  Or we may hear silence when we are being called upon to make our own decisions and chart our own course in order to demonstrate and experience what we have spiritually learned to date.  God is a guide leading us to our fully realized self, not a dictator specifying exactly what we are to do.

Ultimately, we have to believe we can have a dialog with the Universe in order to actually have such a dialog.  If we do not believe this is possible, then we will only hear the silence we expected in the first place.  God is always having a one-sided chat with us through some forum or media.  The only question is whether we choose to hear and participate in our half of the conversation.  If we do so choose, we open ourselves to an unending wealth of spiritual conversation and connection with a Universe far beyond our daily knowing.

©  2014   by Randy Bell                     www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com

Thinking Versus Listening

“I think, therefore I am.”  (Rene Descartes, philosopher)  It is the classic Western statement about where the Self resides.

It is in the mind that the concept of “I” exists.  At least for most of us, most of the time.  In the mind is where we believe resides the essence of “me” – my memories, imaginings, and beliefs.  It is the storehouse for my accumulated facts, knowledge, and the conclusions that I have drawn.  It is where I “control” my life – my decisions, logic, moral code, ambitions.  From these, my mind then triggers my actions.

To exercise that mind, we “think.”  We “talk” in the quiet of our minds, walking through a story or a lecture to ourselves.  It is a very active and engaged action.  The sense of “I” is present throughout this thinking process; the word “I” itself is often heard.  “I” am very much in control.  Or so we think.

But this form of “thinking” is typically a self-fulfilling, gratuitous activity.  Often, we unwittingly lead ourselves though rationalization to where we had already decided to go.  We edit our personal stories as we choose to remember them.  Many of our beliefs are in fact cloned from the beliefs of various authority figures we have encountered along the way.  We think we are making our own decisions, and believe we are doing something “new.”  Yet we remain decidedly a creature of habit, repeating thoughts and actions in an endless repetition.  We change the surrounding scenery on the stage of our own personal drama; our plot remains unchanged.  We think we are in control of our minds; in reality we are more often the captive of our mind acting on its own.

Knowing this, in our spiritual pursuit we acknowledge the reality of our subservience to the mind instead of our illusionary domination.  And in that recognition itself, we begin our first steps in reasserting the true “I” that we really are.

“If we don’t know who we are, we will never know how to live.”  (Rev. Billy Graham)

We do this by setting aside “thinking” – the proactive activity.  We give up creating thoughts.  In its place, we learn the skillful art of listening to our mind.  We separate ourselves from thinking and become the passive observer of what the mind thinks, a listener to the thoughts we already have.  We picture ourselves as a separate but good friend of our mind.  We listen – as we would with a dear friend – as our mind speaks to us.

As a good listener, we hear our friend’s thoughts and offer no commentary.  We make no judgments about what we hear; all thoughts are acceptable in that moment.  We do not rush our friend’s words; we wait patiently for the next thought to come in its own good time, when it is  ready.  We ask timely and pertinent questions only to obtain clarity for a better understanding – to benefit both our self and our friend.  We offer opinions only when asked, and never try to impose our will or perspective on our friend.  We do not put our own words into our friend’s thoughts.  We do not write and tell our own story; we hear the story that is unfolding before us.  We understand that we are simply an audience of one, facilitating our friend’s desire to be heard.

And what do we then hear?  Maybe a single word.  Perhaps a short phrase.  On a rare occasion, a complete sentence.  Those small fragments open a window of insight to us, a window to which we will patiently but continually return as that view continues to wondrously expand and illuminate.

It takes a lot of work and practice to know how to listen to your Self.  But when we stop to truly LISTEN to our mind, we stop creating more thoughts, more add-ons to the “I” we are constantly creating.  Instead, we get to know the “I” that is already there.  No additional layers are needed.  No new illusions need to be tacked on to my “I.”

It is in talking that we do.  But it is in listening that we learn, understand.  The “I” that is created from one non-stop thought after another is an I that never really grows, never really changes, never finds its own destiny.  The “I” that evolves from informed listening is the knowledgeable I, fully aware of his/her true being.  And that being, freed from the dominating confines of its thoughts, becomes now free to be “thine own true self.”  The soul.

A good friend, who is a deep listener with no personal agenda other than your own, is a friend to treasure.  Can we be such a friend to our Self?

“The quieter you become, the more you can hear.”  (Ram Dass)

© 2014 by Randy Bell            www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com

Looking Outside, Seeing Inside

For most people, their spirituality is anchored in one particular spiritual home.  A religion, a particular church/congregation, a specific dogma or spiritual philosophy.  In the majority of instances, this home is the one they were born into, passed along by their parents along with the other inherited hand-me-downs.  Later in life, some leave that familial spiritual home and either go into the blank canvass of no spiritual life, or convert to some other spiritual home.  Maybe to a new home just next door, or perhaps to a home far away from the original family homestead.  A conversion perhaps stimulated by a disappointment in one’s current place, a marriage and a new life partner, an intellectual outreach, or a set of enticing spiritual experiences.

In the end, it really does not matter where you end up calling home, as long as it enhances your connection with Spirit and the Universe, and brings out the better person of you.  Having spiritual companions who walk a similar path, however, helps to keep you moving forward when your energy may be lacking.  Having a structured set of spiritual ideas to explore, ideas from one of the Ancient Masters or a contemporary teacher, can help point out the direction to proceed at the many inevitable spiritual intersections we encounter.  Having an established ritual can give us a supportive form within which to express our spiritual self, often comfortably linked back to a tradition thousands of years old.

Companions, teachings, and ritual can provide a powerful tripartite framework for our spiritual pursuit.  On the condition that we truly enter into these by genuinely informed choice, not by an unquestioning default to our past-or-present cultural surroundings.  True spirituality is not fixed.  It is a constant quest for deeper understanding, a continual self-questioning of our truth, a changing view through our spiritual eyes.  And sometimes we have to go outside of our spiritual home and then look back in order to see more fully what is housed inside.

For the spiritually restless, it may be necessary to look back from several vantage points in order to see the full landscape.  To go to the absolutely unfamiliar in order to see where one has truly been.  From such an unfamiliar place, the old neighborhood can be seen afresh.  It is by laying our beliefs open to contrasting views that real Truth can be discovered.  It is by questioning our beliefs, and working through those questions to find answers, that we deepen our faith and understand it more fully, more genuinely.  Questioning our faith, like questioning our understanding of our Self, does not negate our faith.  It affirms it.  Even if our specifics may change as a result.

For me, my spiritual home is a camp tent that picks up and moves with me each day.  That journey has led to some very interesting, challenging, difficult and rewarding places.  A journey to greater themes and messages from God’s blessed Teachers.  Abraham teaches me to know only one God, but an infinite God that encompasses all things.  Jesus teaches me about the love of God, and how to reciprocate that love back to God and to share it with others.  Buddha teaches me how to know myself, and know the world around me, and how to live properly within that knowledge.  Lao-Tzu teaches me that there is a natural flow and rhythm in Life – God, Universe, Nature – and to live in harmony and sync with that flow.  Muhammad teaches me to surrender my will and my being completely to God, and to follow the teachings of the Ancients in fulfillment and commitment to God.  Moses teaches me to live in community, in a society informed by God.  And from all of this, God teaches me Life, Love, Fulfillment and the Understanding of all of Creation – an expansive Creation that is endless and continuous.

Build your spiritual home where you may choose.  But shape that home through the questioning prism of many different angles.  Our life is constantly moving.  Whether we stay on one path or take many different turns, our spirituality must always move alongside in accompaniment to that journey.  We ground our being in our spiritual feet, but they move upon constantly shifting ground.  If our spiritual GPS has always said “turn right,” then we should on occasion try turning Left.  We may be surprised that an unfamiliar route still brings us safely back home again.

©  2014   Randy Bell              www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com

Keep It Simple Seeker

In business, there is an oft-repeated admonition for the successful design and actualization of new products: “Keep it simple, stupid” (KISS).  It recognizes that success comes from clarity about what you are trying to ultimately accomplish, and then remaining fully true in fulfilling that core intention.  The arch-enemy is the near-inevitable human desire to overreach, over-ornament, and over-complicate that original intention.

KISS is also relevant to our spiritual pursuit.  Our Great Teachers – Moses, Buddha, Jesus and Muhammad – by their words and their lives, have told and shown us that real spirituality is to be found in simplicity and humility.  Yet religious systems always become anything but simple.  Almost inevitably, glorification and complexity rear their heads.  The great cathedrals of Europe, the splendid mosques of the Middle East and the Taj Mahal in India, the grand palaces and monasteries of Tibet, are intended to overwhelm the puny individual by their physical and visual display of Power – ostensibly the power of Spirit, but more often, the power of the church.

Inside these great halls are found the exquisite artifacts – the iconic religious symbols that reference the personas, the history, and the tenets of the religion.  All layered with great beauty intended to enhance the value and meaning of the object, as if the inherent meaning is not enough to stand on its own.  (Jesus’ simple wooden cup at the Last Supper subsequently became a gold and bejeweled chalice used for religious ritual.)

We do the same with our spiritual teachings and dogma.  We take the earliest, simple teachings and mash them into highly complex discussions of theology, interpretation, and etymologies of words derived across translated languages.  Yet it is in those earliest beginning teachings that the real messages can be found, not in the complex renderings of “interpretations and explanations” that we have layered on ever since.  God is an experience of the individual spirit, not a logic lesson for the human mind.

The tendency to overreach and to glorify is understandable, especially as one seeks to express such an inexpressible spiritual feeling living in one’s soul.  The success yearnings of the clergyperson, combined with the creative capacity of a fine artist, can be a powerful temptation.  But as beautiful, expressive and inspirational as these temples and artifacts can be to our senses, we must ask ourselves: is this what our Teachers taught us?  Is this grandness for the benefit of God, and for the spiritual encouragement of the congregant?  Or are they really testaments to Man, the grandeur of the Church itself, the power of the person in the pulpit?  How much energy has been expended for the brick rather than the Spirit?

We are certainly free to admire the output – architecture, art, and sophisticated theological argument – that comes from our human spiritual creativity.  We can appreciate the creative abilities and realization of potential exemplified in these outputs, and use them to encourage our own expression.  But these are human creations.  When we begin to think that our spirituality is dependent upon, or measured by, those human factors, or see them in place of appreciation for God’s simple treasures living all around us, we have lost sight of our true responsibility and connection to God.  When we build our faith on foundations of cash, and try to define our spirituality by the size of the congregation and the complex arguments of our theology, it is at the expense of the richness of our spirit.  We may impress ourselves and each other with our grand physical symbols.  But God will not be so impressed.  Spiritual honesty in a neighbor’s candlelit living room can be far more true than misdirected spiritual expression from the pulpit.

©  2014   Randy Bell                          www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com

Alone With My Self

Have you ever spent an entire day spiritually alone, just with your Self?

In the context of this question, “alone” does not mean “taking a day off” and doing just what you would like to do for a rare afternoon.  Running personal errands, treating yourself to a day of long-denied entertainment, non-required shopping, or personal pampering.  Nor does being alone mean simply being absent from the usual family, friends, or colleagues.

Being spiritually alone means surrounding yourself in true absence.  No distracting TV/radio/cell phones/computers.  No people at all, except for perhaps an occasional person necessary to help negotiate your way through the day.  No distractions.  No chores to perform.  No conversations with others.  Just you.  Perhaps in a quiet room, or on a comfortable bench in the quiet woods or garden.  Perhaps sitting in a meditation posture; perhaps at a table with pen in hand to jot down a few thoughts.  An occasional slow walk through your surroundings to refresh your quiet time.  Just you.  And your Self.  Your real Self.  The Self you rarely get to talk to, to know better.

For many people, such an undistracted day, in such quiet, in such an aloneness, is a frightening prospect.  The very idea of a silent day creates a sense of high anxiety, if not panic.  We think, “how will I get through these many hours, passing the time alone, and what am I likely to experience?”  It is a time and situation completely foreign to our training and experience, being separated from the task list and human interactions that typically fill our day.  So why would we want to do it?

It is in silence that one encounters one’s Self.  The true Self that lives quietly within us, lost to the conscious mind, crowded from our thoughts.  The truth is, many of us have little desire to meet that Self, even though it is our spiritual essence.  Perhaps we fear seeing an unpleasant person, or frightening thoughts, or scary experiences residing in that Self, a Self normally kept out of view.  Perhaps we resist some negative judgments being directed at us by that Self.  Perhaps we will find too many unfulfilled dreams, failed initiatives, or lost opportunities tucked away into that Self.  Or maybe too many regrets, too many unchangeable shortcomings, too many “I wish I hadn’t done that’s” being lugged around in a heavy bag marked “Failures.”

Or, after we slog through some of this initial dense swamp, perhaps we will find someone else.  A joyful, confident, and happy self we have been missing, albeit a Self bruised and battered around by Life.  A Self that has been waiting a long time to finally meet us.  A Self that would be nice to be acquainted with now.  Of all the Friends on our Facebook page or holiday mailing list, this could be the best friend of all.

Our first encounters alone with our Self may prove very difficult.  It is likely a Self very different from the one we normally see in the mirror.  But it gets easier, and more rewarding, with each repetition.  It takes a while to get to know fully the Self that awaits us.  We will have to take both the “good” and the “bad” of the Self together, just as with any other good friend.  But it is an acquaintance worth making.  It is an acquaintance we can only make within external silence.  Because that Self can only speak very softly, so we have to listen hard to hear it.  And if we keep listening hard enough, and long enough, and often enough, behind our Self we sometimes might hear an even softer Voice reaching out to us.

“Nothing in all creation is so like God as stillness” (Meister Eckhart).  Stillness with Self is worth eight hours of our time.

©  2014   Randy Bell              www.OurSpiritualWay.blogspot.com