The God Hole

Emptiness. We fear it. Constantly, we run around and try to fill the empty places; in our homes, in our mind, in our bodies. We smoke to fill it. We drink to fill it. We do drugs to fill it. We shop, work, play endless video games to fill it. Instead of filling this void, we should run to it.

In the emptiness is where God is hiding.

One of my teachers in seminary called it our “God Hole.” I love that. God Hole. It is the way that God communicates with us; it is where we return when we die. It is the space in between our spaces. We all have these empty places, but we fear them. Because we fear the unknown, and in this God hole we know nothing for sure; we are nothing. Can you think of anything that terrifies you more than to be nothing?

In meditation, I try to reach that place all the time, but I loose consciousness before I get there, because if I allow myself to go there, I will see that I am nothing. I am a thought or an idea in the mind of God. I am a manifestation of this thought. Is that what I’m trying to say? I’m not entirely sure, because what I am trying to convey is beyond rational thought and beyond the rational mind.

For many years I have known that if I am struggling with something, like painting, all I need do is to take a nap and the inspiration will come. Come from where? It comes from my God Hole. I have to get out of the way of me, for me to receive this inspiration. My ego, our egos get in the way of our God Hole all the time. Our ego needs to be something, to have autonomy, to make a difference. Our egos enable us to get up in the morning. Without an ego, we would all just sit in bed, if we had a bed. Without an ego we wouldn’t care about anything. Therefore, we need our ego, but, our ego keeps us separate; from each other and from God.

In reality, we can never be separate from God because we are all walking around with this God Hole that keeps us permanently attached to the source of our being. We are never separate from each other either. We are one being. Our God Holes are all connected directly to the Divine. Each of us is playing a part in the name of God.

There seems to be patterns in everything in creation. The veins in a leaf echo the veins in my hands. The cells of my body are like the stars in the universe. Atoms are much like solar systems. Patterns that are successful are repeated and redesigned for different functions. There is a symmetry to the universe, if we understand one pattern then perhaps we might understand more of them. I don’t know, maybe I am just talking through my hat, but it seems to me that if God uses a delivery system like veins in a leaf and then uses a similar delivery system in our bodies, then perhaps there are other delivery system that we might understand.

One pattern that we all share, at least here on earth is the breath. All of life breathes. It is an exchange of air, good air in, bad air out. It’s universal, right? There is a pattern to out breath, much like the waves of the ocean; yet no two waves or breaths are a like. Right now… all of the earth is breath. It is a great wind. The Navajo have a prayer about the breath and the wind. How each has always blown, our ancestor breathed until they died and we have continued their breath. I like that imagery.

We are God. We are the physical manifestation of God. We are connected directly to God through our God Hole. The next time you reach for a bowl of ice cream or spend two hours playing Slingo, ask yourself if you are just filling your God Hole to keep from feeling this void. Next time try to sit with the emptiness and see if you can perceive that small still voice within.

I woke up this morning and the reality that school is all but over and now what hit me like a ton of bricks. I will be ordained in a month. Me a minister, it seems strange and scary to even think about it. Feelings of deep unworthiness cling to me. Their tendrils are in every pore of my being.

My classmates seem to have it all together. Their sails are set and they are going to do great things, but I am trapped in all my old stuff. Isn’t it amazing how you can work and struggle to get past all of this crap and then in the blink of an eye it all comes back to smack you in the face? This morning it seems insane that I am going to be a minister… a minister of what… to whom? My days are filled with caring and cooking for my father. There is so little time for me. I move through my day from one task to the next and it seems that I can only steal a moment or two to do for me. Sometimes a shower is all the pampering I receive.

I haven’t posted for a while because since February I just haven’t had the time. I know that is just an excuse and I am whining, but the truth of it is that life took hold of me and wouldn’t let go. I spent six weeks with my father in the hospital and in a nursing home and then the past month juggling appointments with doctors and visiting nurses passing through all day. It has been busy. The good that has emerged is that we are closer and I have compassion for him now, which I never did. He wasn’t a very good father, he let me hang while my mother treated me so badly. I always resented that. He stood by and did nothing. But, that is the past and I don’t dwell there anymore. He loves me and I love him, and somehow our history just makes it all more complicated and yet more poignant.

In the midst of all my personal drama with my living situation, I managed to volunteer at Hospice and I love working there. I think I will stay for some time. I have a patient that I minister to, Marjory. She is a little old lady, not as old as my father, but far more frail. She is dying. I read the bible to her and I talk of Jesus with her. Each time I go I need to explain who I am and that’s okay. It’s not about me, is it? It’s about her. I love going to her, she gives me peace. I pray that I give her something too. I am going to see her today, I promised that I would read the Sermon On The Mount to her the next time I came.

Beyond my whining and deep feelings of insecurity and unworthiness, which I have come to know as my biggest block to enlightenment, life has been good. Jon is changing jobs, for the better, I hope. The money isn’t quite the same, but hopefully we will gain in peace and more time together. We bought a boat, which will probably end up being an albatross. Projects are not our strong suit, but time and time again, Jon thinks they are. I like where the boat is and we have a great slip, so at least it will be a place to go and enjoy the sunset. I’m glad that he has something to intrigue him.

India is becoming a reality. My visa is on its way. After Mercury is out of retrograde, we are going to purchase the tickets. Martha and I are planning on coming back as enlightened Barbie dolls. We are going to wade in the Ganga at Benares, stay at Sai Baba’s ashram, and meditate in a cave with a dead Hindu saint. How can we not be enlightened? I am terrified, repulsed, excited and thrilled to be going.

So, change is in the air; ordination, boats, jobs, dying people, Mercury is in retrograde. What does it all mean… I haven’t a clue. I know that all I can do is live my life moment to moment. My ministry will unfold as it is meant to unfold. Hospice holds the promise of being something more. Perhaps I will be a dean’s assistant next year, I applied and I think I will be accepted. I want to keep my connection with One Spirit, for me it is a life line to a community that I ordinarily wouldn’t have. I minister to Marjory, and in a fashion, I minister to my father. For now it is enough.

Surrender

How hard can it be to surrender? Why do we resist so? In oh so many ways we hear the creator calling to us and yet we won’t turn to meet its gaze. Does the leaf cling to the tree in autumn? Do caterpillars refuse to enter the cocoon? The sun gives way to the night, and there is never a pause. Why do we struggle so when surrender would be the easier course? The mighty river is strongest when it is quiet, deep and gently flowing, always carving out its silent way.

I held a dying bird in my hand, it was oh so fragile and oh so soft. It lay there breathing, at first struggling and then resigned. It waited quietly and I held on fast, not wanting this little bird to die. I hoped against hope it would repair itself and suddenly fly away, but instead this tiny teacher of all things great, surrendered without a sound and was gone.

Oh, Divine spirit, I am here, help me open my heart, so I might be like the mighty river and this tiny bird. Open, naked and fluid. Flowing slowly, and deep. Crack open my heart and let me hear the truth. You are all I need. You are all. Help me to surrender, release and land in the beauty of love.

Inspiration Lost

My inspiration is speaking
Whispering in my ear.
Listen, I am drawing near.
Never quite in hand
Also just around the bend

Listen, can you hear?

No, I can’t, I am just
Not in touch. I am lost.
Caught in the turmoil of
My thoughts.
Never knowing where or how.

Help me hear. Help me feel.
Help me see.

I am lost, caught in the tangle
Of me. Take me to that empty place,
The place of endless dreams.
Pure potentiality. Nothingness
Supreme.

Pull the thread, start it at the end,
Let it unravel, spinning round and round.
Let it unravel and pull it all away.
Show me me. Show me how.
I am lost in the tangle of me.

Fading now, all thoughts go away.
I am lost completely but somehow I am found.
Take me home, hold me close.
This is how I thought it’d be.
Peace and nothingness yet oh so full.


~~~Susan Wexler

Every morning I wake up (thank God!) and I look at the trees outside my window, they are my silent sentinels. I see them in the summer, lush and green; hiding birds and squirrels from view. In the winter their bones show. In all kinds of weather they sway to the slightest breeze. Always standing guard. Ready to receive the sunlight; standing tall. But, always they have their branches raised to God in glory. Standing in a position of praise and gratitude.

Perhaps, I can learn from them…

There is a structure to the Universe; the path to enlightenment is laid out before you, and you must not deviate from it.

This was a dream I had two nights ago. It was a voice booming out at me, which woke me up. What does it mean? Honestly, I’m not too sure. I have always thought that there are many pathways to enlightenment; as many paths as there are sentient beings, so this statement on the surface really isn’t in keeping with my beliefs. On the surface, it would seem that there is one path and we should not allow ourselves to stray, but if you read it enough times, it is utterly in keeping with my original premise.

We are all on our own path to enlightenment. Some of us will get there quickly and without too much effort (I want to meet one of these folks!); others are on an arduous path with many twists and turns accompanied by much suffering. Most of us are just plodding along, one foot in front of the other. We are all going to get there, but it is just going to be a different path for all of us. We must follow our own path.

So, does this mean that we don’t need a guru, teacher or a saint to follow? I tend to agree with that, but also I feel that ideals give us something to strive for. Teachers can spark a thought or idea that will change your course a bit and help you not to deviate too much from your path. A guru can help you to discipline your mind and saints are ideals for us to emulate. However, we don’t need someone rapping our knuckles and berating us into following their proscribed methods of enlightenment. All we find with someone like this is more attachment.

We all have the knowledge within us to chart our course home. As we live our lives we wrap ourselves in a cocoon of ego and protection. It is the juicy environment that can help us to morph into something else, but most of us become trapped inside this vessel of our own making. We cannot break free from it. Fear is what holds us back. Fear of what the world would look like if we were not who we thought we were. We are content to stay inside this safe and known place, never venturing a peek beyond our own confines to see what lies outside.

Being trapped in this state is the deviation that that voice in my dream speaks of. We must continue to walk our walk, one foot in front of the other. One insight in front of the next; building upon your knowledge, grow and keep on walking.

What is the purpose in trying to grow spiritually? It is a difficult road with many twists and turns; and sometimes few rewards. As I look into my soul, I see the hurts from a lifetime of living. It can be painful to really see who I am. Sometimes ignorance actually is bliss.

I have asked myself the hard questions, who am I, why am I seeking so, what am I seeking? I asked myself these questions over and over; these and more.

I am seeking to know God. I am seeking my divine self. The self that is worthy to know God. I want divine union. I want to know non-duality; to really understand it, to live it and to find my higher purpose.

It really has been a difficult road. I am continually faced with looking at my beliefs and myself. It sounds so egocentric and narcissistic to be so busy peering at me. It isn’t really. It is tough. I am faced with seeing beliefs that I didn’t even know I had. It isn’t pretty, a true narcissist would turn away and not want to see his naked truth.

Lately, I am confronted with my own bigotry. I never knew I was a bigot. During the struggles of the sixties, when I was just coming of age, I was in high school. But, I remember the demonstrations, the ugliness when a school was desegregated and how hateful white people could be. I read about lynchings and burning churches and crosses. I wanted to be older to don a sword and join in the battle. I read about Martin Luther King Jr. and he became my hero. Rosa Parks was my ideal. How could I be a bigot? I am not a bigot. I never was, but those were the lessons I learned at my family’s knee and I never knew that I really had learned my lessons well; until now.

But, there it is. I now see how I deal with a white person and how I deal with a black person. It is different, I don’t treat them the same. I am differential to a black person, perhaps solicitous is a more accurate word. I can be rude to white people, but never to a black person. If I was color blind, I would be rude to everybody, but I’m not. I have seen my judgments. I hear that ugly little voice that pops up and says things in my ear. Judgments based in nothing but bigotry. It is an ugly thing.

However, the seeing is necessary to spiritual growth. When that little voice pops up, I tell it to go away. I disagree with it and tell it is wrong. We are all God’s children. We are all God in all our differing colors, languages, creeds, mores and customs. We are God. I tell that voice repeatedly, again and again. I must create a new neural net in my brain that relinquishes the old belief and replaces it with the new one, we are all God.

This belief is a very deep seeded bias that must be rooted out to continue my journey to non-duality. I find it very painful that I could hold such beliefs. But, this is another step towards eradicating the causes of separation from God.

I know the analogy of the caterpillar in the cocoon is over used, but it really is applicable. I am in the cocoon now and starting to break through it. All those silken threads are tightly wrapped around me and I have to break through each one in order to get out of this place. But, it is necessary to see all these threads that are holding me in place if I am ever going to be able to fly. They all must be broken.

One by I one I nibble and gnaw. The taste is bitter in my mouth, but with each old bias and belief that I cut, the closer I am to stepping fully into God.