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The Nazarene & Friends

The Nazarene & Friends

 

In my last wee post I looked at how many close friendships eventually explode or suddenly fizzle out, much to the surprise and shock of onlookers and the participants themselves. I have suggested that friendship at a subliminal level is all about mutual desire transmissions and the process of mimetic imitation. We become the other and the other becomes us. Two identical twins cannot afford each other psycho-spiritual space and the friendship abruptly ends.

Today and next week,  I want to look at two events in the recorded account of Yeshua bar Yosef’s close relationships and see if there is anything there that can help us enjoy the freedom of relationship without subconscious rivalry.

So let’s consider the seemingly disconcerting wee tale of Yeshua’s response to a request from his mum and brothers to have a wee word as we say in Northern Ireland. Here’s the account from Matthew’s memory.

“While he was talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers were standing outside eagerly wanting to speak with him. Someone said to him, ‘Look, you’re mother and brothers are outside wanting to speak with you’.

But he answered them, ‘Who is my mother and who are my brothers?’ And he stretched out his hand towards his disciples, saying, ‘Look, my mother and brothers! For whoever is doing the will of my Father (Abwoon), who’s in the heavens (transcendent realm), is my brother, and sister, and mother.'”

Now folk have never really got their head around this seemingly unloving statement from the Nazarene, seeing it as an expression of delusions of grandeur by the popular prophet-preacher. Yet, if we dig around it we’ll see that he is being extremely perceptive in his take on relationships, in this case family attachments.

For me, the key word here is will.

For many of us it’s a heavy, condemnatory religious word, so let’s swap it for strong desire.

Two wills or desires are on show here.

1) Family demands.

2) Divine Desire

It doesn’t take much to imagine the scene. Yeshua is merrily chatting away in his storytelling teaching style to enthralled followers while mum and the boys are trying to be patient outside. Finally they’ve had enough and send in an urgent, perhaps ego scripted message to their unconventional kinsman. ‘Yeshua, get your ass out here ASAP, who do you think we are, some of your weak little followers standing in line for a beatific smile?’

What we have here is the exercise of desire via hierarchy. The family saw their blood relationship to be of a higher order than the crowd around them. They had a bigger claim to Yeshua than the motley crew packing the wee house where Yeshua was spouting forth. In other words, the family were in rivalry with the crowd via their exercise of desire. Now Yeshua, must have experienced this kind of relational expectation before with his folks. That’s the way most family relationships work. In Ireland, the Irish mammy is one who must be obeyed! I’m sure that it was no different in the Jewish families of 1st century Palestine.

At first the Nazarene’s response appears to be downright disrespectful and unloving. The Jewish family was the pillar of society and the building block of a Palestine under occupation. Yet, I reckon Yeshua was taking the opportunity to teach about desire. Bluntly, he was saying that he didn’t respond to skewed desire as expressed by ego. Let’s not forget that this is how society works and is the dominant force outside the ‘Queendom’ as illustrated by his eventual violent end.

So to summarise, the Nazarene therapist was surely saying this:

There are two desire fields that act like a magnetic flux.

1) The Passion or Desire that emanates from Transcendent Source.

2) The skewed desire that we mutually transmit via ego, or wounded psyche-souls.

His disciples, those shockingly referred to as his brothers, sisters and mother are those who are being influenced by his desire, which in turn is aligned with that of Divine Source. In other words, if you follow me (resonate with my desire) then you will resonate with the Divine Desire that birthed you in the first place. Such an alignment is the experiential essence of being the Children of Transcendence, the Children of God.

The normal desire demands of our familial and friendship transmissions are never to take precedence over such a spirit alignment. The psyche-soul must always be under the healing and freeing influence of Spirit Breath and its life flow. To be tossed about by the desire pull of others is the root of unhappiness and relational discord.

Of course the Nazarene loved his family, particularly his mother. His concern for Mary at his execution is the painful evidence of this. Yet, he was aware that he had come from and would return to Divine Source. To be constantly living in the passionate creativity and restorative power of Divine Desire was his overriding goal. A goal, that to my mind, made hin unique among men.

Next week we’ll look at Peter, and his close friendship of concern with the Nazarene. Prepare to be shocked.

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Why Friends Fall Out

Why Friends Fall Out

 

Friendship is one of the great comforts to our lonely space-time psyche souls. It gives a sense that we are not alone and that someone really cares. The trouble is such relationships may have the seed of destruction planted within them from the beginning. Once we realise this it’s not surprising that we look back on our lives to see the wreckage of close friendships littering our past. So how come? Well, here’s a few thoughts on friendship and why they can so often explode further up the road.

My premise is that the psycho-spiritual attachments known as friendships are built upon desire. I guess that I’d better explain. Well, when two folk meet something can just click straight away. So what is this relational resonance? Well, may I suggest that it’s the mutual recognition of similar desire frequencies. We are creatures of desire, both transmitters and receivers of subliminal unconscious desires that flood our being. On meeting some folk we are immediately repelled and withdraw ASAP – our lower consciousness has picked up a discordant desire frequency, one that if received will spell negativity and relational disharmony. But what of the one we meet who seems to tune into our own desire transmissions and feels at ease? Well, such encounters can birth what we call a friendship, a flowing together towards an unspoken goal or desire object.

Now when this occurs, things go swimmingly for a while, perhaps even years! Yet, at some stage a crisis is usually reached in our mutual attraction. How? Well, here are a few possible answers.

After we meet someone who both receives and transmits desire similar to our own, a process of mimesis or imitation is immediately triggered. We want to be more like the other, our friend, and absorb every last drop of their desire transmissions. The same goes for our friend. Over time, we become more and more like each other; in fact on a psycho-spiritual level we becomes doubles or clones on one another. Outwardly our lives may appear different but inwardly we are set on the same desire course with a common object feeding the intensity of our desires.

Now it’s not long before trouble sets in and we become Monstrous Doubles for each other. Why? Well, we have become so identical that a glitch enters our relationship and we see the other as an external Self, one that must be absorbed at all costs. Now once we both set out on this new mission of absorption, we see our friend in a new light, as a rival to our very sense of Being. A rival that must totally be absorbed through control or killed off in a relational field of battle. Of course we sense in each other this new dynamic within our hitherto rose garden of friendship and respect, birthing a deep suspicion of the previously loyal other.

If we choose to absorb the other, by making them our desire slave, i.e. whipping their sense of individuality and self-worth, they may submit and enter into deep depression or they may react by attempting to absorb us in turn. Either way, the original nature and mutual respect of the friendship has well and truly gone, morphing into an ever-increasing battle for psychological survival.

Alternatively, we can both come out, desire guns blazing and have an almighty row that leads to the end of our friendship. I doing so we are attempting to kill off or destroy our image in the other. We can no longer live with this outside Self, one who is now rivalling us for our sense of self worth and esteem. The outcome of such an encounter is usually the end of the relationship, as one of the parties leaves the communal herd and goes looking for another with similar desires to their own. Like two rivalling stags there can only be one winner, albeit a wounded and scarred one.

Hence, is it a great surprise that such friendships often explode within the metaphysical desire fields of religious communities, where desire is almost deified as the meaning of life, albeit in the context of the Divine. Many never recover from the disillusionment of such crash wreck friendships. As well as the friendship, all desire to experience the Divine is kicked into touch as we turn our backs on all that kinda God stuff.

We walk as the walking wounded, with our wounds being the open sores of disillusionment and a sense of betrayal. And yet it is really no-one’s fault, for skewed imitative desire is part of our common human wiring. Once we take to the dance floor of mutual desire a fall must eventually ensue.

Are there any answers to our relational predicament? Well, I believe so, those observed in the social relationships of Yeshua bar Yosef, but more of that next week.

PS. If my thoughts on desire have set you thinking you might like to pop over via the link below and have a wee look at my book, ‘MATRIX MESSIAH’, which examines subliminal desire, rivalry and relational violence before presenting the Nazarene’s  radical but effective solution.

http://amzn.to/1LRfKMC

Truth & Big Bucks

Truth & Big Bucks

 

It looks like an ever-growing percentage of spiritual or religious teachers in our day have, for the most part, morphed into mere pedlars of their particular brand of truth. Now it might seem a bit rich, and a tad hypocritical for a published spiritual author like myself to make such a statement, yet I reckon that this particular elephant in the room, must be addressed.

The religious and spiritual worlds within Western culture, have become marketplaces populated with teachers of all hues, those benefiting very nicely from their ‘revelations’ with a cash flow of big bucks. I’d better explain that I’m presently not one of them. To date I’m still at a financial loss after my decision in 2011 to dispatch my own wee musings out into the literary world. Now, I’m perfectly happy with that, for it certainly keeps me from getting caught up in some god-like ego trip. Of course, books cost money to produce and so a reasonable cost should be charged for each one.

No, what I’m raising here is the vast empires that have been created around celebrity preachers and spiritual teachers. When a book by an unknown author strikes a chord with folk it  seems that already established entrepreneurial flesh eaters swoop in to make as many bucks out of the writer as possible. Suddenly the author in question is propelled into the spotlight, dressed up as an enlightened soul with answers to the human condition.

Every year or so a new leading light appears with the backing of multi-millionaire publishers and media moguls. The goal is to reach the New York Times best seller list, have your own programme on religious tv or, for the more spiritually orientated, a guest spot of one of Oprah’s shows. Now I’ve seen them all and what strikes me is that the original grain of truth that each person was granted pre-fame, still remains, but something fake is trying to dress it up for commercial success.

To have ‘arrived’, is the most dangerous pitfall that a religious or spiritual writer can encounter. It’s a one-way trip to consolidation, and I’m afraid, often the end of authentic inspiration. It saddens me to see how something plastic rushes in to fill the void. How many authors, signed up by Harper Collins or Hay House, to name but a few, have been asked to produce 4 or 5 more books when they’ve already shared their original nugget of truth in their pre-fame publication. Just how many times can one say the same thing over and over again without readers switching off and moving on to the next new literary kid on the block?

Of course it gets worse. Authors are quickly fashioned into seminar speakers to ‘equip the saints for the work of ministry’ or alternatively, to ’empower’ their fee paying attendees. And let’s be honest – such religio-spiritual shows are not cheap. And yet good folk queue up like lemmings to hear their idolised teacher rehash their material via the spoken word & all singing dancing Powerpoint presentations. Yes, we spiritual & religious folk certainly love our celebrities, those who’ve obtained a glimpse of transcendence and transmit it with a smile of beatific certainty.

Now, if we’ve really ‘arrived’ we get to appear on Oprah to plug our latest book, as well as hosting luxury cruises around the heavenly blue waters of the Caribbean. Now, unlike many faith folk  I like Oprah, and some of her guests appear to be great folk, but the subliminal commercial marketing is always a bit too much to take. Floating around with a bunch of ‘gifted speakers’ whilst drinking pina coladas on deck may seem like bliss to some, but there’s something not quite right about this either. Perhaps it’s the fact that the celebrity author/speakers are there for the big bucks and a free cruise to boot, paid for out of the pockets of their ardent fans. I guess the Nazarene completely missed the boat when he passed by on the offer to host 10 day teaching trips around the Sea of Galilee for the rich elite of Galilee.

So where does this all leave us? Well, firstly may I suggest that we’re all broken folk, high-profile authors included, no matter whether they live on Maui or the Bible Belt of Colorado. Our brokenness is the key to the inspiration that can flow through us. Once we believe our own, and more importantly, our mega-publishers mail-shots, then we’re finished, at least in terms of Life flow. Now marketing has its place, albeit a limited one, yet it’s also a potential tool of ego and the desire for fame and fortune that come with it.

Secondly, if Divine Love sees us becoming a guru, or alternatively, following a guru, it will let it run for a while before graciously pulling the rug from under our feet. For, it knows that without a sincere and humble heart, it will all end in tears. No, Divine Love cares too much for us to allow us to follow progressively blind guides into the alley of inauthenticity.

So let’s not fall for psycho-spiritual spin and the new priesthood, the celebrity author guides, who graciously send a free download in order to hook us into their market-leading customer base. Of course free is good, but not when used as a come-on for  exorbitantly charged  follow-on material. As we cry out for relief from our inner angst, many will offer their answers, usually for inflated big bucks. Best avoid I reckon and look within.

For my part, I’ll continue to blog and publish, but there will never be any Dylan Morrison 3 day conferences at Holiday Inn, slick subscription based web-seminars, DVDs, TV appearances (unless Ms Winfrey calls of course?), or expensive meditative retreats in rural Tuscany. No, there will only be words. Hopefully words to ignite and inspire, but also words to keep us free from the pernicious cult of personality.

 

 

Mystical Steps

Mystical Steps

Writing is a funny old thing. The urge comes upon you when you least expect it. Something or Someone out there, or perhaps deep within, pops up from time to time to say, ” I’ve something for you to write about. Listen carefully!” It’s been a bit like that with my latest wee book, ‘Mystical Steps’. I just had an inner knowing that it was time to get some stuff on mysticism out into the often competing worlds of religion and non-religious spirituality.

I reckon that the time to demystify mysticism has come, to reclaim it from the fixation of the esoteric crank or the fanatically unhinged religious believer. Mysticism, at its basic essence is simply, yet profoundly, an experiential communion with Transcendent and Immanent Other. Nothing weird or scary, just a form of spiritual perception that releases us, albeit temporarily, from the space-time perceptions of ego. So why aim I sharing my wee book with both metaphysical camps?

Well, let’s start with the religious among us. Most committed believers are scared stiff of mysticism. This is partly due to warnings from the guardians of so-called orthodoxy within popular religion. Christian priests and pastors tend to jump on mysticism, and the possibility of having a mystic within their congregation, from a great height. Why? Well, simply because they’ve been told by their own faith fathers that it’s dangerous and somehow associated with the dark arts of the occult. Now, once the great Adversary is introduced into the religious equation it’s game set and match for the religious status quo. Let’s be honest, fear often lies at the heart of much conservative belief and practice, rather than the exhilaration of discovery in a Cosmos created as our Divine playground.

Another reason faith folk shy away from mystical thought and practice is through lack of knowledge. We are wired to fear the unknown. New ways of looking at faith journey tend to freak us out, so we just don’t go there. Keeping our reading and religious input within the confines of our present world view makes us feel safe, if slightly limited in our potential for future growth. Best to stay with what we know and stay within the theological paddock of our present faith flock.

Of course, top-down religions, particularly established Christianity aren’t too keen on mystics. The odd one here and there is perfectly acceptable, preferably within the walls of a monastery or nunnery. Having a congregation full of mystics though would be a bit too much to bear. No, best to keep mysticism a minority sport and let the mystics run free, as far away as possible from the rest of God’s ‘chosen’ kids. For a community that draws its identity from doctrine, tradition and group solidarity is much easier to control. If mysticism was to suddenly break out the whole institutional edifice might collapse, for all forms of co-dependency would disappear overnight.

Let’s now consider the Mind, Body Spirit world. Yes, mysticism is more easily accepted here, yet there remains a stubborn ignorance that is content on one aspect of mystical belief whilst rejecting the rest. A Nature mystic or Oneness adherent can be just as narrow-minded as their religious counterpart. Our spirituality easily latches onto one interpretation of Reality and won’t let go. As a result of my observations of the lovely folk in ‘spirituality alone’ movements, I’ve concluded that there can be as much of  a fundamentalist streak within them as in mainline religion. In the guise of Mystery, certainty becomes the newly adopted god of choice. Of course, many spiritual teachers and gurus are partly responsible for this as they compete for popularity and sales within the marketplace of commercial spirituality and self-help. Now much truth lies in the multifarious paradigms of modern spirituality but each little nugget is often projected as absolute Truth rather than a mere part of the whole.

I’ve written ‘Mystical Steps’ to help us all catch a glimpse of a broader canvas, one upon which Divine Love loves to brush a multitude of colours. Of course my little book is only my own small attempt at portraying the unportrayable. It’s merely an ink spot on the great page of Mystery, yet it’s an honest and loving attempt at encouraging us out of any restrictive worldview we may presently hold, into the boundless embrace of Presence. May it bring solace to the lonely and encounter to the brave.

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certainty

 

Many of believe the lie that safety comes through certainty. Especially those of us who’ve had an encounter with the Divine and don’t want to lose it. We tend to be quickly absorbed into a mindset that seems to fit our experience. Those who appear to provide the answers that we crave tend to be the fundamentalists of a religious or spiritual tradition. It doesn’t really mater what the brand – certainty is for sale, promising to eternally conserve that which cannot be conserved.

It certainly appears to work for a while, but very quickly our experience and its dynamic energy soon fade to be replaced by the doctrinal truths or certainties of our particular fundamentalism of choice. Such truths are presented and revered as the guardians of God, those who won’t let us down in the storms of life. And yet they often do. For the very storms can be a result of the beliefs themselves.

The levels of stress among fundamentalists belie their belief in a God of peace and abundant life. Life is reduced to Darkness versus Light and every effort must be exercised in remaining on the side of Light. That’s why fundamentalism promotes the idea that life is a battle, one in which we shall remain standing if we only stay within its belief system and related communities.

However, eventually life and, dare I say, the Divine, blasts our fundamentalist Linus blanket apart, as we sink into the despondency of lost certainty. And yet, it is at this point that Divine Love may once more invade of emotional world and touch us with a touch that needs no belief.

Presence is just that ~ Presence. A knowing that we are not alone, even as our previous beliefs and sacred tenets like shipwrecked on the shore of our unbelief. It’s at this point that we realise that belief systems are not synonymous with knowledge, for such knowledge lies outside the realm of thought. Rather, it is a gut feeling, an overwhelming sense that everything is OK and that we are loved.

Now many of us were introduced to the God of our experience before we settled for the one of belief. It is in this dark place of nothingness that we once again sense Source hovering over the surface of our disillusioned psyche-soul. Out of the chaos of lost belief comes a living walk with One who cannot be pigeonholed into our fundamentalist boxes. Walking in the garden of Innocence we find a new helpmate – trust. Sent from our inner world this sensory one leads us on the paths of communion, the walkways of Presence. Trust knows nothing of fundamentalism, that cheap clone who promises to keep us to the end. No trust is the real thing. The energy from within that shapes and models our experiential world of form. As we trust, our outer world conforms to the Divine blueprint and we fly free as children of  a Great Love. The safety of Divine Flow replaces the ever stressful mind games of our previous fundamentalism.

Life is to be fun and enjoyed in the flow-freeing Energy of the nameless, I Am that I Am. Only as we let go of fear and ego birthed belief are we truly safe in a space-time world held together in the Divine Matrix of the Logos/Tao. As a recovering fundamentalist I can’t remember too many fun days in the daily battles of my previous dualistic psycho-spiritual settings. No, I guess fundamentalism might help us all in getting out of a hedonistic Egypt, but not so good in promoting the enjoyment of the Milk and Honey of our inner Promised land.

Fly free my friends, fly free.

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Fight Or Flow

Fight Or Flow

 

In my old Charismatic days, everything was a fight. Although God was on our side there was an almost equally opponent in the shape of the Christian take on the Satan, one who opposed our every turn. Now it proved to be a real roller-coaster type of way to live life. All the good stuff came from Father, Son and Spirit while all the nasty stuff came from the dark Enemy. We could live in blessing as long as we kept our wits about us and keep up our guard against a wily and bad natured Foe.

Of course this chess-like take on one’s space-time existence was exhausting, very exhausting! And of course to live on the battlefield of life warranted the back-up of fellow brothers and sisters in arms, viz. a bunch of dedicated warriors known as a good church. On our own we’d more than likely get clobbered by the dastardly one, in a fire-brand fellowship of Charismatic believers the opposition didn’t stand a chance, particularly if we prayed, fasted and tithed as was the good Lord commanded.

Of course it didn’t really work out. For many brothers and sisters fell off the rails in many and various ways. Yet, there always was an answer, albeit an ever diminishing one, to the comrades falling at our side. The Devil was a powerful foe, a roaring lion seeking those whom he desired! Stoicism reigned within the good band of brothers and sisters, heavily disguised as Christian discipline and commitment.

Is it any wonder many of us moved on to agnosticism or indeed atheism after such collateral damage? Spouses, kids, health and dare I say it, mental health were all casualties of our heady religious zeal. So as you may guess, I’m no longer a great fan of fundamentalist dualism and its permanent war footing. As the walking wounded leave by the back door, many new young recruits pile in through the front door willing to lay down their lives for Jesus. Sadly, they probably will, though not in the manner suggested by the Nazarene. So, am I just a disillusioned sceptic of sceptics? Well, no! I’d better explain.

Today I’m a believer in the supremacy and all-encompassing reach of Divine Love? How come? Well, I’m not really sure except to say that I suspect Spirit Source has had something to do with it. Re-encountering Presence back in 2004 proved to be the power-wash that cleared out the last vestiges of my old thinking. Today, I’m a flow man rather than a Charismatic guerrila fighter.

I see the Satan of Christianity as the energised desire matrix that locks us into inter-personal rivalry and violence. A much more subtle foe than the   devil I used to tackle in my zealous youth. A product of ego attachment, this Satan is defeated, not by resisting but by disengagement. The darkness of our fascinations with other is only dispelled as we bask in the Light. Such a Satan hates to be ignored, one reason that it so easily operates within religious systems that hold it in a paranoid reverence. When it’s observed for what it truly is and set aside for the all-pervasive Ocean of Divine Love, it wilts and dies. Only ego in its fear-fuelled flights of fancy can reactivate and energise our expelled foe. The creative power of Divine Love is all there is. No other.

So how come evil appears to stalk the Earth, within the Cosmic Dome of Divine Reality? A big question and one that has baffled minds greater than mine for past millennia. May I humbly put forward a wee hypothesis. Divine Love has granted a measure of its creative power to the human psyche-soul. It’s the artist who paints our perceived space-time reality. When fractured and wounded in its ego form, this power is not withheld, but allowed to run riot until we come to our senses and return to Ultimate Reality. No matter how much human ego and its Satanic network of desire fights its corner, it is destined to ultimately fall and fail. All things in heaven and on earth will eventually bow the knee to  Source, the One from whom they’ve come. All power will be handed back to the Tao/Logos the personified governing principle of Reality. As a river returns to Ocean so all will flow Homewards.

So, as light and darkness appear to come our way in 2015, let’s get some Divine perspective. Both are part of the River that carries us into the heart of Love. The sooner we realise this the less darkness will manifest in our daily lives. At the first hint of psycho-spiritual dusk, lets ask ourselves why ego is reactivating its gloomy creative process. Returning to Core Self, our inner spark from the Divine Fire, will restore peace in both our inner and outer worlds as we walk on the waters of trust.

Once we catch sight of this ageless truth, the stresses of permanent struggle disappear like the morning mist. Light will usher in its peace, and you will follow in the steps of the Nazarene into the realm known as the Divine Kingdom-Queendom.

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Fasting For Jesus

Fasting For Jesus

 

As I sit here in Carlucccio’s Italian restaurant, sipping my smooth, soya latte, my mind wanders back to post-Christmases past, particularly those when I was a signed-up, zealous member of a Charismatic Christian fellowship. Now, I’ve written all about my adventures there in my wee book, ‘The Prodigal Prophet’, but this morning I want to talk about our annual post-Christmas fast. I’d better fill you in with a wee bit of background first to set the starving scene.

Our church, or fellowship, as we preferred toc all it, was heavily into intercessory prayer. The founding pastors, as young students at Belfast’s Queen’s University, had felt such a concern for the Ulster Troubles that they prayed day and night for God to do something about the situation – for mercy I guess, realising that the dark tragedy was a symptom of a religious malaise that locked everyone into their cultural tribes and traditions. A lot of false gods were getting worshipped in acts of savagery and butchery that blighted the towns and countryside of God’s own wee country.

Anyway, as the years rolled by and we got more and more into a striving dualistic mindset, we adopted some weird teaching doing the rounds at the time. A teaching by Charismatic preacher, Derek Prince, which insinuated that God took our prayers more seriously if we prayed and fasted as a community. To dislodge the ancient darkness over the land would take lots of cries and supplications and more importantly less food.

I guess the premise was based on some mystical verses in the Book of Daniel, that suggested that dark angelic forces would only yield to the angels of God if we did our bit on earth by fasting.

Now of course fasting has been a spiritual discipline within many religious traditions for millennia. I suppose starving the ego was taken literally, in societies where food was already scarce. Of course, the practice has many beneficial health benefits for both psyche and body, no doubt about it. But, like most things that are good in theory, our leaders turned our week-long January fast into a legalistic practice that any committed member was expected to do. Of course the pregnant wives, yes wives, among us were exempt as they were doing their bit by growing the size of the fellowship! But apart from them, we all were shepherded into giving up our daily bread for the first week in January.

I guess it never occurred to our leaders that it was usually the coldest time of the year. Second thoughts, maybe it had, for to fast in the frost and snow was surely more holy than desisting from food in the warmth of summer. Anyway, we’d all sheepishly comply and dedicate ourselves to God anew, in the hope of hearing what lay ahead for us in the year ahead and how we could bring closer the ever-promised, carrot on a stick revival.

Prayer meetings were held every night, as ashen faced souls gathered together with a mixture of optimism and religious fervour. Oh how we’d pray, and cry and sing and dance. An ancient African tribe would have been proud of the amount of holy sweat we put into our nightly rituals. And in the centre of it all was Jake, our lead pastor, a Moses-like figure that we’d all followed out of status-quo religion. Everything was always just over the hill, around the next bend, and we’d follow like lemmings keen to fall into the Promised Land of revival.

Now, when I say fast, I really mean that we gave up solid food for the week. Yet, the good news was that someone had made a pronouncement on soup! We were allowed soup or broth to give it a more holy sounding name. I’m sure the soup sales in our local supermarkets skyrocketed during the first week in January. Of course, we had soup eaters and soup eaters! The really devout only had a purely liquified version of soup, whereas those of us who cheated allowed ourselves the odd pea or lentil. What a bizarre game we played out on the stage of Charismatic religion.

After a week of fasting we’d all turn up at a local Methodist church, kindly lent to us by a sympathetic pastor, for the grand finale. Often, over a thousand folk packed into the little sanctuary for the big event. We’d dedicated ourselves in all sincerity to our God and we expected a return. Penny in the slot religious belief always expects the Divine to come through. So, we’s sing and sing and sing, listening for any prophetic words that would reinforce our take on the Divine Mind. And then of course, would follow the sermon by Jake, the man closest to God who’d given up more food than the rest of us combined. Delivered with charismatic authority, Jake would outline what he felt God had in store for us all in the coming twelve months.We sat intently, nodding our heads and taking our notes in case we missed anything in the Divine plan. We were getting our marching orders for the next year and beyond. And of course, orders they were, if not Divine in nature. Jake was telling us what he wanted us to do to promote his religious dream in the year ahead.

The gathering would go on for three or four hours before the last man stumbled out onto the streets of downtown Ballybrigg, renewed in spirit and raring to go. Funnily though, while Jake would return home exhausted by his labours, most of us young men headed straight for the local burger bar, for our days of fasting were well and truly over for another year. So much for denying the flesh!

So, sitting here with my now cold latte, may I concur with the scriptures that suggest we eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die!

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Post-Christmas Portal

Post-Christmas Portal

 

It’s a bit of a downer to be told that the Nazarene was probably born in September rather than December. So much for the snow and all things Christmassy. The old Germanic pagan feast of Yuletide was hijacked or redeemed by the European Christian establishment and turned into a food filled celebration of the coming of the Light – of the World, that is.

So here we are, half exhausted by the rigours of winter and the crazy guilt trip merchandising of 21st century capitalism, waiting for the big day. The post feast mid-afternoon nap beckons, restoring some sense of normality into our mid-winter orgy of plastic tv and family.

Am I turning into a grumpy Mr Scrooge as we get closer to the annual event? Well, I hope not, for despite my disdain for all things Yuletide, there is a ray of hope, viz. the days after Christmas. What do I mean? Well, once the turkey and accompanying indigestion has slipped away, once the adrenalin-fuelled rush has dissipated and normality, whatever that may mean, returns we have a door of opportunity.

To do what, you may ask? Well, to get in touch with Something or Someone that has waited throughout the festive frenzy to get a word in edgeways, and a simple but profound word at that. ‘I’m here,’ whispers the Word of words, the timeless One. Here to behold and acknowledge the one called me, psycho-spiritual warts and all. A profound gift that reaches to the womb of Self, proclaiming that all is well and shall be well.

Divine Love, is the Supreme Authenticator, the One whose words really matter. The words of friends, family and work-colleagues can only put a band-aid on our sense of rejection, our feeling of not having made it, whatever that might mean. For, it’s only Source, the Transcendence that thought us up in a Creative fanning of the Divine Fire, that can set our hearts aflame with the energy and wholeness of sheer being, a being without the need for human endorsement.

So as we retreat once more into our protective ego shell, having packed away the plastic smiles and pretend bonhomie, let’s leave a door open within the empty caverns of our tired psyche-soul. One is waiting to approach, to touch and to restore a knowing beyond the empty games of men. Presence is there for us all, no matter what Linus label we cling onto.

Yes, our post-Christmas portal is worth waiting for. A time to welcome the September visitor Tao-Logos into the inner cloisters of Self. A sublime meeting of Fire and Spark, Dancer and Dance, Spirit and spirit, one beyond the somewhat shallow celebrations of man.

Happy Christmas

Dylan Morrison

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I'm Not Myself Today!

I’m Not Myself Today!

 

“I’m not myself today’ is a strange wee self judgement. Our core Self, or spirit spark doesn’t change, so what’s going on? Well, it’s simply that a different combination of our sub-personalities have decided to show up today. Triggered by external events, often the impending approach of a Model Obstacle’s desire field, a new collage of our little ones is hastily projected for defensive purposes. Who we, or others, think we are is only a permutational image of psyche-soul splinters in the kaleidoscope of our inter-personal consciousness.

I wrote this wee update on my facebook page last night, not really knowing where it came from or what provoked it. I guess I must have been feeling a wee bit confused over who I really am. I wonder if you’ve ever felt the same? I guess if we were all honest we just don’t think about it too much as we prefer to drift along on the sea of life. Anyway, I thought I’d expand my thoughts a little in this new blog. Here goes.

Is there a real Me? Well, yes and no! Yes because there appears to be someone lying behind consciousness who watches our internal games with a pure and life affirming objectively. There is a Me looking on with a compassionate honesty at the games I play. This somewhat hidden but powerfully present Me, is a spark from the Divine Fire. It may even be based outside space-time, apparently dipping into my space-time consciousness from time to time! Religious and spiritual traditions have given this Self-Essence many names, but I’ll plump for the term spirit or breath – a breath of God if you like. We all have it at our core, even if the majority of us are totally oblivious to its presence. How come? Well, it lies underneath the constant storm of our psyche-soul and its little battalion of  defensive sub-personalities.

Now, some of us may not even be aware of these little guys and gals running around the fortress of self-perception. All we know is that who we are appears to change on a fairly frequent basis, depending on our external circumstances and internal pressures. For most of the time we are the sum of the little sub-personalities who happen to be on duty at the time. At a moment’s notice a new threat to our peace and sense of self may be picked up, and a quick change of personal is called for.

For every sub-personality that attacks us from another, we have a relevant soul-based defender, one who can protect our fragile sense of self. This explains how when the dust of a sudden attack has settled we wonder why we did what we did – in other words, what got into us! Actually nothing got into us, for our reactions were the automatic responses of our awakened resident defenders.

Now, I’ve written elsewhere regarding where this fragmented soul force has come from – one birthed by the crushing traumas of love withdrawal in the womb and early infancy, but here I want to be as practical as possible. I wish to consider our energy levels after such inter-personal skirmishes. Well, often we are totally shattered, feeling like we have gone 10 rounds with some heavyweight prize-fighter. And indeed, we have, for though small, the sub-personality, whether ours or another’s is a potent little scrapper. Originally we were designed to live in harmony with both God and man, before contagious mimetic desire birthed the chaos we presently navigate our way through. In this state of innocence, energy was high and peace a tangible entity – the afternoon stroll in the mythical Edenic Garden.

But now we live in the psycho-spiritual plains of desire where we all both predators and victims. It’s certainly tiring and we can only take it for a limited amount of time. Living by the manual of desire warfare does eventually take its toll as our internal sub-personalities collapse in a psychic heap – nervous breakdown by another name.

So, how are we to live and to live life abundantly. Well, the key is to get in touch with our observer Self, our spirit portal to the One without need of rivalry and warfare. Observing our internal fighters from the vantage point of spirit we can countermand our sub-personality tendencies to strike back. To engage in psychic wars is death; to observe from afar is to disengage and return to barracks. The gift of Will, can now come into play, bringing order and dignity to those wounded parts of Self, who foolishly perceive themselves to be our saviour. On a practical note, the more we can practice observation without engaging the raging sub-personalities of others the more we maintain our internal peace.

Of course, non of us have fully arrived and will let our little defenders sink their teeth into others from time to time. In such circumstances, the way of restoration lies in compassion and forgiveness for our overly zealous, central nervous system warriors and those of the other. In doing so we can return to the quiet equilibrium of just being and walk away. No-one was greater at this stuff, than the Nazarene, the One from Above who knew both his origins and final destination. “Father forgive them for they know not what their sub-personalities are doing.”

We too can say the same.

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I'm A Holy Roller ~ Get Me Outta Here

I’m A Holy Roller ~ Get Me Outta Here

We glibly follow the Nazarene in many guises. One of our favourite ones is the serious disciple, the  believer whose big aim in life is to make Jesus, Lord. We play numerous church and individual basedl games in our zealous attempt at convincing ourselves that we’ve finally handed over the control of our lives to the mysterious Galilean. Now, as a recovering Holy Roller myself, one who played loads of complex Spirit games in my youth, I want to examine why so many Charismatic/Pentecostal folk eventually leave their initial, revivalist brand of choice.

May I be blunt? We can play an extremely plausible role within Spirit-focused faith, or indeed, within the many modern New Age alternatives and still not have yielded to Divine Love. I’d better explain. Ego, our wounded, and often frenetic, psyche-soul, adores religious or spiritual disguises. It’s a past master at the whole Angel of Light thing. Since time began, long ago in the mythic Garden, ego has wrapped itself in its psycho-spiritual skins to hide from the Innocent intimacy of Source, fearing that it has been spurned by Love and placed under a divine fatwa.

The Evangelicals among us were told that ‘the Satan’ used to lead the Heavenly choirs in their harmonic songs of adoration. In other words, a religious worship leader, or alternatively, a pseudo-spiritual vibrational expert. Maybe there’s some elements of truth in there, for ego, the faithful foot soldier of the aforementioned adversarial system, can certainly put on a good show. Ego loves religious devotion with all its directed hoop-jumping. It will commit itself to great depths of suffering and pain, all in the name of God. It will ‘serve’ and ‘love’ till it’s blue in the face and about to expire. Add a controlling pastoral or authoritative voice to the mix and ego will splash its cash to get some of what it appears to have.

Paradoxically, it’s all about trying to impress the Divine while being terrified of its pronouncements. Many of us, whether religious or spiritual, have played this game in our time, on the ever-spinning hamster-wheel of devotion. And yet, we all eventually fall off. Well, to be more accurate, we’re simply pushed off by the intervention of Spirit, in the form of Life. So let’s be clear; ego has vast resources of psychological strength, yet even these remain limited. At some stage in our sojourn Divine Love comes calling, loudly proclaiming, ‘Enough is enough. Time for aReality check!’

Now, it’s at this critical stage in our journey when we Holy Rollers, start rebuking everything in sight, in one last desperate attempt to remain in our religious delusion. ‘God would never let this happen to me – I’m a Holy Roller – get me outta here,’ we scream in frustrated sincerity!

And yet, in reality, this is the day of our salvation. Not the religious joining of a faith system through confessional game play, but rather, a felt and all too painful salvation. For Divine Love has decided to take us through cold turkey, weaning us off our devotional drug in a way that only Transcendence can manage. When Love strikes it heads straight for the dependency jugular. Yes, you’ve guessed it, ego. It only asks one thing – a surrender of control, an end to our illusory state of independence and strength. Of course, like some great lion with a thorn in its paw, ego doesn’t lie down lightly. Thankfully though, Source knows us better than we know ourselves, and the final act of compassion comes swiftly and decisively. We, or more accurately ego, is floored for good. Time for some thorn removal therapy methinks!

I look fondly back to my somewhat heady days as a Holy Roller. Divine Love was extremely gracious to me in many, many ways, and yet, all along It was planning to snatch me from the jaws of ego in the blink of an eye. ‘Do you miss it all’, I’m often asked. Well, to be honest no. Better to have ego, healed and reintegrated, rather than running around in its blind religious fervour.

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Dead Folk Walking

Dead Folk Walking

 

St. Paul or Saul of Tarsus to his Jewish friends, was, I reckon, a bit of a psychologist. Also a mystic, the guy would have a weird time trying to adapt to modern takes on religious thought and practice if he were around today. During the past week I had someone on facebook suggest that I get back into ‘accountable relationships’ within the Christian fold and let folk ‘speak into’ my life. Perhaps well-meaning, perhaps a reflex reaction to my unusual take on spirituality. Anyway, it didn’t take long for me to pass on the pious proposal; not due to some wild claim of perfection, but rather Paul’s radical take on psycho-spiritual health. I’d better explain.

‘Reckon yourselves dead unto sin and alive unto to God’ are some of the most therapeutic words that our mystic thinker may have uttered. Their profundity all hinges around the wee word reckon, an ancient accountancy term that implies taking the facts of cold numbers into consideration. To reckon is to rest upon that which is beyond dispute. So dear old Paul seems to infer that we’re dead folk walking. No longer living in a state of fear-fueled dysfunction towards Divine Love, but presently at One with it. The old wiring of our paranoid ego is to be reckoned as gone, because in Ultimate Reality it is. The mystic Paul saw past the transitory nature of our psycho-spiritual perceptions of separation from Source.

The human spirit has never been on a prodigal journey of excess and happiness hunting. No, it’s always been a spark from the Divine Fire, albeit one buried under the rantings and flailing arms of ego. It’s our psyche-soul that has believed the lie of God disapproval, arming itself with all manner of weapons in its first-strike policies of attack. Paul is claiming that the old controlling ways of ego are now dead and buried. We no longer have to engage with ego’s dysfunction or ‘sin’, to use a heavily rigged religious word. No, there is, and indeed, always has been an alternative way to live, viz, to be alive unto or within God.

Now what does this mean in practice. Well for a start the guilt of ego spin is no longer to be entertained. Bad news for certain strands of evangelicalism. The old thought patterns of never being good enough can be dispensed with forever. They were never true in the first place. No longer do we have to obtain brownie points with the Divine, or perhaps more importantly, others in our space-time sojourn. For, we have finally woken up to the facts of the matter – we are alive unto God. In other words, we can’t disengage from God. We live and move and have our very being in Divine Love. Can a fish escape from its ocean home – not likely. All we are asked to do is reckon on being as close to Divine Love as is possible, for in reality we are. Paul suggests that this radical new way of seeing oneself, others and Divine Source, is the key to joy and authentic freedom – freedom from the confused, threatening world of ego.

So back to my Job’s comforter. Well, of course there is nothing wrong with hanging out with other folk of faith, those with a spiritual take on life. None at all. But is it essential? I believe not. Let’s look at my friend’s two main spiritual directions for my wellbeing.

1) Accountable relationships

Well, I have to be honest, I’ve had my fill of so-called accountable religious relationships over the years. Those who have read my wee tale of Irish pilgrimage, The Prodigal Prophet will understand why. That being said, I reckon such relationships are not in line with what Paul has declared. For, if we reckon ourselves dead to the dysfunction of ego, why do we need others to watch our back and be the Lone-Rangers of our soul. If the new life that Paul so confidently declares is real then why are Christians so hung up on being hijacked once more by the old ways; so hung up as to have pseudo-guardians cover them within religious communities. No either this new birth or awakening is real or a myth that should be confined to religious history. I tend to plump for the former.

2) Folk who speak into our lives.

Lots of folk speak into my life, everyone I converse with on a daily basis, especially my good lady Zan, who keeps me firmly earthed in all matters marital. Of course my recent adviser wasn’t referring to that kind of input. Rather I suspect that he meant a counselor who could speak words of correction and advice to me, one who knows the Mind of God regarding me more than I do. Again, I’ve experienced this in the past. Usually it eventually turned out that such a wise caring counselor was just as screwed up as I was, perhaps even more so. One of the folk who fulfilled this role in my life wondered at a time how my marriage survived the traumas that Zan and I had passed through. A number of year’s later the same counselor had an extra-marital affair with the headmistress of his Christian school and resigned from all counseling ministry. No, there has to be a better way and there is.

Once ego, lets go of its Linus-blanket control, we are once again able to hear the Voice of Wisdom within. Unfettered by prejudice and skewed vision, the musings of Spirit are always close to hand. Sometimes a gut feeling, sometimes a precise though or insight, Divine Love within knows how to maintain us in the flow of  Life like no other. Of course, when we suggest such a thing, our concerned religious advisers will quickly recoil, accusing us of spiritual arrogance and delusory self-importance. Not so. We have only taken or reckoned the mystic Paul at his word. And that of course is sacrosanct in Christian circles. Enough said.

Happy listening to all and remember to take the pseudo-spiritual words of others with a large pinch of salt. Especially mine. If the words of wisdom from a caring other don’t ring true in your spirit-gut, smile sweetly and move on.

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Treadmill Revivalism

Treadmill Revivalism

 

Not long after we join a church or para-church movement we’re told, either bluntly, or ever-so subtly, that we’re all on a mission for God. Out there in the big wide world are millions of our fellow-men and women, those who don’t know Jesus like we know Him. The Christian life is one big mission, the evangelising of the whole world no less. If we don’t get it done nobody else will, and to accomplish it we need to commit to our sect of choice.

Of course, there are many varied brands within the Christian flock, but we’re told by much older experienced hands that the holy grail that we singularly seek is  revival. Now I’m all for revivals when they come along, but I’m not so sure that Divine Love is obsessed with them. And lets face it, numerous revivals have been claimed, when they are really no more than subtle mind-control events, hyped up with seductive music and a touch of show biz glamour.

In my dour wee homeland of Northern Ireland, a revival took place in the early 20th century. At the heart of it lay the fiery preaching of WP Nicholson, a travelling evangelist from my home town, who literally scared the hell out of folk. Gifted with the blunt language of the common man Nicholson painted a burning end for those who didn’t respond to his particular take on salvation. So effective was he that his converts returned a mountain of stolen tools to  the Harland and Wolf shipyard, builder of the ill-fated Titanic. Yet, can terror or hell-driven conviction for sin really be the sign of Divine Love at work. I tend to think not.

Anyway, when we’ve signed up to our beguiling new Christian movement we’re informed that something big, really big, is just around the corner , like the visit of the aliens in Close Encounters Of The Third Kind, only holier. Yes, you guessed it – God has plans for a great world revival and we’re at the heart of His planning committee. Of course as a new convert, one eager to please both God and man, we tend to believe such sacred spin. And so our addiction for pre-revival disciplines begins.

I’ve done them all in my time. Prayer and fasting are the biggies for many revival heads. The game plan is simple: the more we pray the more God turns up. The more we fast the more powerful or influential our prayers. Now this raises a few important questions. Why does God not come at the first sign of a request from His followers? Why does giving up our daily sustenance twist God’s arm even more. One begins to wonder if God is really into this penny in the slot, type of faith dynamic.

In my own Charismatic sect of choice, we discovered that an ancient Celtic monastery in our town had established a 24 hour prayer and praise regime during the early medieval period. For over a couple of hundred years Celtic hymns and contemplative prayers were offered up without a moments break. Three 8 hour shifts of chorister monks at full throttle, copying the daily routine of the ancient Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. Hundreds of monks travelled from my wee town to the pagan lands of Europe with much success in their attempts to introduce the wild Germanic hordes to the love of Jesus. So, inspired by our ancestors pious dedication we began. The task of continuous prayer through the hours of darkness was handed out to the men of the fellowship. If one refused, a not so subtle demotion in the eyes of our zealous leaders resulted, doubting one’s commitment or indeed manhood. The dear women of our group theoretically covered the daylight hours, when they weren’t being model wives and mothers.

Yep, the Prayer Watch, as it was known, marked us out as one spiritual notch above the rest in the religious Bible of Northern Ireland. As dragged ourselves out of bed at some unearthly hour to tumble down to the church offices to pray with our prayer partner, the spirit was willing but the flesh extremely weak. Boy those were the days – days of madness in hindsight. Of course not everything went to plan. I well remember the night when my partner and I got stuck in a snow drift and couldn’t fulfil our obligations. The poor duo who we were supposed to relieve on watch, had to do our stint as well. I’m sure many employers wondered why once a week their model Christian workers would turn up to work fit for nothing, catnapping their way throughout the paid working day.

I guess we were peer pressured young idealists willing to join the revivalist treadmill. After all, if we put in the effort God would surely deliver – wouldn’t He? Of course it was a recipe for psycho-spiritual burnout. A presented but unreal God who expected us to put in a good penny’s worth in order for others to discover him for themselves.

Is it any wonder that we eventually fall off our religious treadmills, exhausted and somewhat disillusioned by the modus operand of our particular revivalist sect? There is much madness in the Christian world whilst wisdom, true wisdom lies within. So, if you’re tempted to sign up for a spiritual gym with the carrot of revival set temptingly before you, best return to the privacy of your own Self and listen for the still small Voice.

Next week I’ll tackle the crazy practice of fasting as a prayer enhancer. More crazy tales of a semi-starving religious junkie.

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The Fall

The Fall

The Fall

Copper cauldron of a golden fire

Lies carpeted beneath these passing feet

At one with earth’s Autumnal mire

As darkness fades its deathly light.

Days long gone when glory shared

With trees so tall amidst the joys

Of summer’s sensuous flight.

A letting go, a death has come

To woods forlorn and fearful of mad Winter’s chill

This sea of colour’s last waved show

For all who walk with eyes to see

And ears to hear the dwindling gasps of life

I wonder if,

When this scribe’s time has come

To lay aside the glory of his days

And words and songs of spirit heart,

When Self, its fateful journey drifting down

To earth and dust from whence it came,

Will some one stand on me and see

The Light that passed my way on sojourned path?

Shall Source return to lift me up

To Garden fields of Golden Light,

Where I shall join those joined to One

Who hangs on wounded tree,

Where I shall bend in Spirit Breeze

On endless boughs of Tree Of Life

And taste and see

That All is well

That Time has passed and gone.

©dylanmorrison20/11/2014

Burn-Out & God

Burn-Out & God

I guess that God knows all about burn-out, having seen so many of us succumb to that particular psycho-spiritual pitfall. The trouble is, most of us recovering religious junkies found God at a young age when we hadn’t yet discovered who we really are, and perhaps more importantly, what God is really looking for in our mutual friendship. Is it any wonder that so many of us ditch the religion and God of our youth to be ‘normal’, and sleep in on Sunday mornings.

I reckon the whole concept of discipleship is partly to blame. To be a follower of the Nazarene is to self deny and take up our cross ad nauseam. Boy, what a life to sign up to. Thousands of church services over our three score years and ten, months spent in intercessory, battling prayer and of course, last but not least the endless voluntary work, known as ministry expected from all good disciples. It all sounds so holy and sacrificial, and if we know anything the Divine is really into sacrifice, especially that of His beloved Son. Some New Testament scholars believe Christianity to be an updated version of Greek Stoicism, and I can see why. Virtue as the highest form of happiness sounds all too familiar to my religious junkie mindset of old. Yes, God is a quality controller who expects from us the high standards of the Nazarene, especially on Sundays.

So where is the flaw in all of this. What exactly is discipleship and is its end result always burn-out. Well, may I humbly suggest that we have lost the Middle Eastern meaning of discipleship. All Jewish Rabbis, at least those of note and a good reputation had their disciples; generally a band of men, who modelled themselves on their master’s lifestyle and teaching. Of course like all discipleship models it had its drawbacks, with rivalry and power struggles always a possibility. Yet, at its essence it was all about following. Yeshua, bar Josef was no different. He asked his motley crew of men and women, to follow him, but was it a journey into dour sacrificialsm? I believe not.

The Nazarene claimed that his yoke was easy and his burden, light. These rabbinical buzz words had a special meaning. Yoke and Burden referred to the general life teaching of a spiritual master. In other words, Yeshua was saying that what he asked of his followers was quite simple and easy to fulfil, in comparison to many of the other yokes and burdens kicking around the Judaism of his day. Peter, James and John and gang were simply to love God and their neighbours in the same way the Galilean did. Just an imitation of sorts, yet not one to be squeezed out of stoical human effort, but one to be channeled from Divine Source, a reflex action of the Love that touches all. The taking up of the cross wasn’t a call to suffering but a call to liberation from the dictates of ego. Such a radical following of the Nazarene, would release the tortured will into the Divine destiny. A letting go to trump all lettings go.

‘I have come to bring life and life more abundantly’ now begins to make sense. A life of realignment and connection with Source, the Love that flows to all, if only we will ditch our old sacrificial thinking. To follow the Nazarene is not to crucify Self, but detach from ego and its incessant, fear fuelled demands. Self is made to flourish and create in the divine economy, not hang on a religious cross and pride itself on its suffering.

So where does that leave all of us religious burn-outs. Well, I reckon that somewhere along the line we have been presented with a form of Christianity whose yoke is far from easy and its burden, heavier than lead. We attempted to slave our way to holiness in the guise of sacrificial love and it back-fired. Our bodies, psyches and spirits had enough and declared so in quite dramatic fashion. ‘Stop’ they cried and so we did, often unwillingly, for the death loving virus within religion is a hard one to shift. Lying in a faithless heap we wondered if we’d ever again feel the Presence that started it all. And of course, in time the call comes, not to stoicism and religious hoop jumping, but to stillness and touch, the compassionate embrace of the Divine Samaritan. The Master has returned.

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Living To Die ~ Dying To Live

Living To Die ~ Dying To Live

 

I’ve just been listening to Cat Steven’s new wee song, Dying To Live ~ Living To Die. It’s really sparked something within me, on this warm, Lincolnshire, blog-writing morning; so here goes.

Many of us are dying to live. We just feel like we haven’t got to a place that can be really called living. If only is the wee phrase that gives it away. If only I’d a better, bigger, whatever. You know how it goes. The advertising industry certainly do for it is their raison d’être. We feel like a glass half empty if we’re lucky. Some of feel drained dry on a permanent basis as we struggle for a drop of life to keep us going. Show me the one who claims to be living life to the full and I’ll show you a liar, be they a hedonistic playboy or a religious zealot. No, not even after some sublime spiritual experiences do we constantly feel fully alive. I reckon, it’s the way it’s been designed, a metaphysical carrot to keep us on the Way.

Our dying to live takes many forms. Ego suggests a whole selection of ways that we can kill ourselves during our earthly sojourn. Addictions, a stream of broken relationships, self-imposed lacks of all kinds appear to be sponsored by our wounded, shame orientated self who confidently declares that we deserve to die. We are often our own firing squad, lining up to fire an assortment of psycho-spiritual weapons that will put us out of our misery. Unfortunately though it doesn’t work. We rise again to go through the whole suicide attempt again.

Let’s face it we are addicted to dying, hoping to prove to ourselves and Other that we are heroes worthy of Love. The gloomy, morose among us are death junkies par excellence. Everything is seen through the lens of death. Trips to the doctor’s surgery a regular ritual, hoping to hear the worst – news that induce pity and some sense of self-worth as we teeter on the brink of space-time.

And yet there is a dying process, one not driven by ego, that does lead to life. It is the awakening process within that unties the bonds of psychological attachments. Let’s just say that ego doesn’t like it at all. It will rant and rave that it alone is the expert in the dying business. Yet, under the guidance and encouragement Spirit Breath, the Intelligent Energy of our Source life-giver, we are led into situations where we go through mini-deaths. Yet these mini-deaths are really portals into a new sense of freedom, not the totality of Life as it shall be, but as it can be here within the constraints of space-time.

If Spirit nudges for us to jump off our personal psycho-spiritual cliffs of attachment then my advice, based on painful experience, is to leap with all one’s might. Divine Presence is always there to work its wonders, to catch and restore those who trust. Letting go of addictive relationships or other psychological crutches is always the path to life, no matter how much ego protests.

The reality in which we find ourselves suggests that we are all living to die. What an absurd thought. We run around like headless chickens for a while before running out of steam and ending up as a cold corpse in the frozen earth or a little urn of ashes to be sprinkled onto a local beauty spot. Could Source really be so cruel. Life seems to be a school which rings the closing bell, sending us into nothingness where the lessons learned will be of no further earthly use. No wonder many great philosophers ended up mad or taking their own lives.

Of course religion weaves its pseudo magic and asks the faithful to embrace suffering and die a thousand deaths daily – all for Jesus. Such a warped mindset has milked death for all it’s worth. Many religious organisations are kept going by the sacrificial endeavours of their members, all in the name of God, though often resulting in manipulation, misery and control. Death cannot be used as a religious tool to keep the flock in line. The dying of ego is a more liberating process than the  numerous self-hating hoops through which we jump in our pursuit of religious reality.

The whole life thing seems to be one great Cosmic joke, a teaser of the cruellest kind. We live to die. Full stop. Some folk appear to accept this and just get on with it. ‘Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die’ is the wisdom of many. It certainly brings a measure of release for some, but niggling in the depths of being the question remains. ‘Is this really all that there is?’

So, I guess if the Nazarene hadn’t turned up and gone through the whole gamut of human existence that I’d join the above club. No matter how wonderful the teaching of the Jewish prophet, it’s only half of the claimed story. Even in our scientific age we can’t get around the big one. Disheartened, fearful men and women, such as ourselves, came bursting out of a Jerusalem safe house to declare that their executed leader was alive and well. Not the kind of thing that disillusioned sect devotees usually get up to. How or what happened to the Nazarene isn’t the topic for this post but rather the answer to the ‘living to die’ downer. ‘Living to die to Live’ seems to be closer to the Divine Mystery. Our conscious Self appears to continue on after ditching this shell-like body. Rather than the end, death is only a beginning.

Try and get hold of Cat’s or Yusaf’s wee song.

❤ Dylan

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