I am not in charge of the entire universe, so if there is a problem, I am not in sole charge of fixing it. Resentment at the way of the universe can come from guilt about the way of the universe, which is intolerable, so is shifted outwards as condemnation (‘if it’s your fault, it’s not my fault’). The correction: God does have a role for me in the universe but it is not to be the channel for resolution of everything. I can trust that others will fulfil their roles too.
I am never upset for the reason I think. The ostensible reason is the screen onto which I project the upset. The upset is always about belief in separation from God and exile on the material plane.
O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark,
The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant,
The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters,
The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers,
Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees,
Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark,
And dark the Sun and Moon, and the Almanach de Gotha
And the Stock Exchange Gazette, the Directory of Directors,
And cold the sense and lost the motive of action.
And we all go with them, into the silent funeral,
Nobody's funeral, for there is no one to bury.
I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,
The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed
With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness,
And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama
And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away-
Or as, when an underground train, in the tube, stops too long between stations
And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence
And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deepen
Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about;
Or when, under ether, the mind is conscious but conscious of nothing-
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,
The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy
Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony
Of death and birth.
One day a bee stung the horse and, in fright, he ran up into the mountains. The old farmer tried to follow him but he couldn’t keep up. He came home that night to tell the whole village that he had lost his beloved animal. His neighbours began to come in and say, “I’m sure sorry to hear about your bad luck, about your losing your horse.”
The old farmer shrugged and said, “Bad luck, good luck, who is to say?”
Two days later, the horse came back from the mountains and with him were six wild horses that he had met on the steppes. The old farmer was able to corral all seven of these creatures, which was quite an economic bonanza.
The word got around the village. The villagers came at night and said to him, “So glad to hear about your good luck, about all the animals that you now have.”
Again, the old farmer shrugged and said, “Good luck, bad luck, who is to say?”
His son realized what an opportunity this was to make some money. If he could tame these wild animals, then he could sell them to be farm animals. He began to try to break in these wild horses. One of them bucked him off one day, and he broke his leg very painfully in three places. Word got around the village and the neighbours came that night and said to the old farmer, “So sorry to hear about your bad luck, about your boy getting hurt.”
Again, he shrugged, “Good luck, bad luck, who is to say?”
Not long after that, a war broke out among the city-states in the province of China. The government came through and conscripted every able-bodied man under the age of sixty to go and fight. Because the son had been injured, he was not required to go, and that turned out to be something very good because every villager who was drafted into service wound up being killed in the war. Once again, “Good luck, bad luck, who is to say?”
Judgment, like other devices by which the world of illusions is maintained, is totally misunderstood by the world. It is actually confused with wisdom, and substitutes for truth. As the world uses the term, an individual is capable of “good” and “bad” judgment, and his education aims at strengthening the former and minimizing the latter. There is, however, considerable confusion about what these categories mean. What is “good” judgment to one is “bad” judgment to another. Further, even the same person classifies the same action as showing “good” judgment at one time and “bad” judgment at another time. Nor can any consistent criteria for determining what these categories are be really taught. At any time the student may disagree with what his would-be teacher says about them, and the teacher himself may well be inconsistent in what he believes. “Good” judgment, in these terms, does not mean anything. No more does “bad.”
It is necessary for the teacher of God to realize, not that he should not judge, but that he cannot. In giving up judgment, he is merely giving up what he did not have. He gives up an illusion; or better, he has an illusion of giving up. He has actually merely become more honest. Recognizing that judgment was always impossible for him, he no longer attempts it. This is no sacrifice. On the contrary, he puts himself in a position where judgment through him rather than by him can occur. And this judgment is neither “good” nor “bad.” It is the only judgment there is, and it is only one: “God’s Son is guiltless, and sin does not exist.”
The aim of our curriculum, unlike the goal of the world’s learning, is the recognition that judgment in the usual sense is impossible. This is not an opinion but a fact. In order to judge anything rightly, one would have to be fully aware of an inconceivably wide range of things; past, present and to come. One would have to recognize in advance all the effects of his judgments on everyone and everything involved in them in any way. And one would have to be certain there is no distortion in his perception, so that his judgment would be wholly fair to everyone on whom it rests now and in the future. Who is in a position to do this? Who except in grandiose fantasies would claim this for himself?
Remember how many times you thought you knew all the “facts” you needed for judgment, and how wrong you were! Is there anyone who has not had this experience? Would you know how many times you merely thought you were right, without ever realizing you were wrong? Why would you choose such an arbitrary basis for decision making? Wisdom is not judgment; it is the relinquishment of judgment. Make then but one more judgment. It is this: There is Someone with you Whose judgment is perfect. He does know all the facts; past, present and to come. He does know all the effects of His judgment on everyone and everything involved in any way. And He is wholly fair to everyone, for there is no distortion in His perception.
Therefore lay judgment down, not with regret but with a sigh of gratitude. Now are you free of a burden so great that you could merely stagger and fall down beneath it. And it was all illusion. Nothing more. Now can the teacher of God rise up unburdened, and walk lightly on. Yet it is not only this that is his benefit. His sense of care is gone, for he has none. He has given it away, along with judgment. He gave himself to Him Whose judgment he has chosen now to trust, instead of his own. Now he makes no mistakes. His Guide is sure. And where he came to judge, he comes to bless. Where now he laughs, he used to come to weep.
It is not difficult to relinquish judgment. But it is difficult indeed to try to keep it. The teacher of God lays it down happily the instant he recognizes its cost. All of the ugliness he sees about him is its outcome. All of the pain he looks upon is its result. All of the loneliness and sense of loss; of passing time and growing hopelessness; of sickening despair and fear of death; all these have come of it. And now he knows that these things need not be. Not one is true. For he has given up their cause, and they, which never were but the effects of his mistaken choice, have fallen from him. Teacher of God, this step will bring you peace. Can it be difficult to want but this?
For morning and evening review:
(97) I am spirit.
I am the Son of God.
No body can contain my spirit,
nor impose on me a limitation God created not.
(98) I will accept my part in God’s plan for salvation.
What can my function be but to accept the Word of God,
Who has created me for what I am and will forever be?
On the hour:
I am spirit.
On the half hour:
I will accept my part in God’s plan for salvation.
We are sure God wants us to be happy, joyous, and free. We cannot subscribe to the belief that this life is a vale of tears, though it once was just that for many of us. But it is clear that we made our own misery. God didn’t do it. Avoid
then, the deliberate manufacture of misery, but if trouble comes, cheerfully capitalize it as an opportunity to demonstrate His omnipotence.
The verdict of the ages is that faith means courage. All men of faith have courage. They trust their God. We never apologize for God. Instead we let Him demonstrate, through us, what He can do. We ask Him to remove our fear and direct our attention to what He would have us be. At once, we commence to outgrow fear.
I am never upset for the reason I think. The ostensible reason is the screen onto which I project the upset. The upset is always about belief in separation from God and exile on the material plane.
On transience (I):
1 The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in
Jerusalem.
2 Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of
vanities; all is vanity.
3 What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh
under the sun?
4 One generation passeth away, and another generation
cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.
5 The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth
to his place where he arose.
6 The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the
north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to
his circuits.
7 All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full;
unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.
8 All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the
eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.
9 The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and
that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under
the sun.
10 Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is
new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
11 There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall
there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come
after.
On transience (II):
The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant,
The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters,
The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers,
Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees,
Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark,
And dark the Sun and Moon, and the Almanach de Gotha
And the Stock Exchange Gazette, the Directory of Directors,
And cold the sense and lost the motive of action.
And we all go with them, into the silent funeral,
Nobody's funeral, for there is no one to bury.
I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,
The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed
With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness,
And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama
And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away-
Or as, when an underground train, in the tube, stops too long between stations
And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence
And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deepen
Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about;
Or when, under ether, the mind is conscious but conscious of nothing-
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,
The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy
Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony
Of death and birth.
On judgement (I):
Anthony de Mello tells about an old Chinese farmer. He had but one horse as his possession. He used this animal almost exclusively in all of his work. For example, when it was time to plough, he hooked the animal up to the plough, and it broke the ground for planting. When it was time to take the harvest to the market, he would hitch the horse to a wagon. When he wanted to travel any great distance, he would put a saddle on it and ride the horse. The horse played an important role in his life.One day a bee stung the horse and, in fright, he ran up into the mountains. The old farmer tried to follow him but he couldn’t keep up. He came home that night to tell the whole village that he had lost his beloved animal. His neighbours began to come in and say, “I’m sure sorry to hear about your bad luck, about your losing your horse.”
The old farmer shrugged and said, “Bad luck, good luck, who is to say?”
Two days later, the horse came back from the mountains and with him were six wild horses that he had met on the steppes. The old farmer was able to corral all seven of these creatures, which was quite an economic bonanza.
The word got around the village. The villagers came at night and said to him, “So glad to hear about your good luck, about all the animals that you now have.”
Again, the old farmer shrugged and said, “Good luck, bad luck, who is to say?”
His son realized what an opportunity this was to make some money. If he could tame these wild animals, then he could sell them to be farm animals. He began to try to break in these wild horses. One of them bucked him off one day, and he broke his leg very painfully in three places. Word got around the village and the neighbours came that night and said to the old farmer, “So sorry to hear about your bad luck, about your boy getting hurt.”
Again, he shrugged, “Good luck, bad luck, who is to say?”
Not long after that, a war broke out among the city-states in the province of China. The government came through and conscripted every able-bodied man under the age of sixty to go and fight. Because the son had been injured, he was not required to go, and that turned out to be something very good because every villager who was drafted into service wound up being killed in the war. Once again, “Good luck, bad luck, who is to say?”
On judgment (II):
How Is Judgment Relinquished?Judgment, like other devices by which the world of illusions is maintained, is totally misunderstood by the world. It is actually confused with wisdom, and substitutes for truth. As the world uses the term, an individual is capable of “good” and “bad” judgment, and his education aims at strengthening the former and minimizing the latter. There is, however, considerable confusion about what these categories mean. What is “good” judgment to one is “bad” judgment to another. Further, even the same person classifies the same action as showing “good” judgment at one time and “bad” judgment at another time. Nor can any consistent criteria for determining what these categories are be really taught. At any time the student may disagree with what his would-be teacher says about them, and the teacher himself may well be inconsistent in what he believes. “Good” judgment, in these terms, does not mean anything. No more does “bad.”
It is necessary for the teacher of God to realize, not that he should not judge, but that he cannot. In giving up judgment, he is merely giving up what he did not have. He gives up an illusion; or better, he has an illusion of giving up. He has actually merely become more honest. Recognizing that judgment was always impossible for him, he no longer attempts it. This is no sacrifice. On the contrary, he puts himself in a position where judgment through him rather than by him can occur. And this judgment is neither “good” nor “bad.” It is the only judgment there is, and it is only one: “God’s Son is guiltless, and sin does not exist.”
The aim of our curriculum, unlike the goal of the world’s learning, is the recognition that judgment in the usual sense is impossible. This is not an opinion but a fact. In order to judge anything rightly, one would have to be fully aware of an inconceivably wide range of things; past, present and to come. One would have to recognize in advance all the effects of his judgments on everyone and everything involved in them in any way. And one would have to be certain there is no distortion in his perception, so that his judgment would be wholly fair to everyone on whom it rests now and in the future. Who is in a position to do this? Who except in grandiose fantasies would claim this for himself?
Remember how many times you thought you knew all the “facts” you needed for judgment, and how wrong you were! Is there anyone who has not had this experience? Would you know how many times you merely thought you were right, without ever realizing you were wrong? Why would you choose such an arbitrary basis for decision making? Wisdom is not judgment; it is the relinquishment of judgment. Make then but one more judgment. It is this: There is Someone with you Whose judgment is perfect. He does know all the facts; past, present and to come. He does know all the effects of His judgment on everyone and everything involved in any way. And He is wholly fair to everyone, for there is no distortion in His perception.
Therefore lay judgment down, not with regret but with a sigh of gratitude. Now are you free of a burden so great that you could merely stagger and fall down beneath it. And it was all illusion. Nothing more. Now can the teacher of God rise up unburdened, and walk lightly on. Yet it is not only this that is his benefit. His sense of care is gone, for he has none. He has given it away, along with judgment. He gave himself to Him Whose judgment he has chosen now to trust, instead of his own. Now he makes no mistakes. His Guide is sure. And where he came to judge, he comes to bless. Where now he laughs, he used to come to weep.
It is not difficult to relinquish judgment. But it is difficult indeed to try to keep it. The teacher of God lays it down happily the instant he recognizes its cost. All of the ugliness he sees about him is its outcome. All of the pain he looks upon is its result. All of the loneliness and sense of loss; of passing time and growing hopelessness; of sickening despair and fear of death; all these have come of it. And now he knows that these things need not be. Not one is true. For he has given up their cause, and they, which never were but the effects of his mistaken choice, have fallen from him. Teacher of God, this step will bring you peace. Can it be difficult to want but this?
Corrective measures:
LESSON 114
For morning and evening review:
(97) I am spirit.
I am the Son of God.
No body can contain my spirit,
nor impose on me a limitation God created not.
(98) I will accept my part in God’s plan for salvation.
What can my function be but to accept the Word of God,
Who has created me for what I am and will forever be?
On the hour:
I am spirit.
On the half hour:
I will accept my part in God’s plan for salvation.
Big Book:
We absolutely insist on enjoying life. We try not to indulge in cynicism over the state of the nations, nor do we carry the world’s troubles on our shoulders.We are sure God wants us to be happy, joyous, and free. We cannot subscribe to the belief that this life is a vale of tears, though it once was just that for many of us. But it is clear that we made our own misery. God didn’t do it. Avoid
then, the deliberate manufacture of misery, but if trouble comes, cheerfully capitalize it as an opportunity to demonstrate His omnipotence.
The verdict of the ages is that faith means courage. All men of faith have courage. They trust their God. We never apologize for God. Instead we let Him demonstrate, through us, what He can do. We ask Him to remove our fear and direct our attention to what He would have us be. At once, we commence to outgrow fear.