My Spotless Mind

I was raised a devout Catholic, and Jesus was with me at all times. He was my trusted friend and seemed to be part of me, which, by the way, is an accurate definition of an alter ego! Part of me knew that He wasn't real, just an imaginary friend, but that part of me I never wanted to face. I would have been too lonely and lost without Jesus.

I suppose that if I had been raised in another country, my imaginary friend would have been different depending on the culture, perhaps Krishna, but I was raised here, and my mother, as well as the priests who conducted catechism classes three times a week, made sure that I knew Jesus intimately. I was indoctrinated from the time I began breathing.

It was comforting having an imaginary friend, but one unusual day, when I was a bit older, I began to look at this whole question of religion, and how easy it is to fall into a relationship with an idea. I suppose we all romanticize in one way or another, but this Jesus or God fantasy became increasingly troubling for me, simply because I was never the type to believe anything without proving it true for myself, or at least after a couple of unusual experiences at age eighteen and nineteen.

There is great emptiness when we know that we just can't fake it any longer. It's as if we awaken from a pleasant dream and want to go back to sleep, but can't — the sun is up, and something quite sobering has entered our hearts. It all has to do with facing reality, which many can't do; they fortunately can remain in their warm and fuzzy world of illusions, but those who are forced to face reality, such as I was, well . . . they suffer.

Jesus held off the suffering for many years, and I would never have had the courage to go it alone if not for two amazing incidents — one in college, and one in Lake Erie. In college, I was reading a book that suggested I concentrate my mind for one minute without thinking. I tried it, as a lark, and was surprised that I was able to do it with no thoughts entering my mind whatsoever. It was a very unusual experience, and as I look back, the experience began to change something deep inside.

Not long after this, I nearly drowned in Lake Erie, going down for the proverbial third time when an incredible peace came over me. It was like nothing I had ever experienced, and nothing to do with Jesus or God; just a peace that I could best explain as a total release and an end to all concern and worry. It was a most beautiful thing, so beautiful that I can't describe it.

I was rescued, obviously, and after throwing up for a couple of hours on shore, my life, although moving along much as before, was altered. Something changed, and it has been changing ever since. I have never been able to explain exactly what I felt, or how I began to change, but I just didn't think the way I had before, or how my peers thought. I became a fish out of water and didn't know how to handle it, so I ignored the deep feelings and pretty much went on with life as normally as I could. However, deep inside, every belief that I had ever cherished began to break apart, like the shattering of thin glass.

Twenty-one years later, when through unusual circumstances I ended up in a Zen monastery, those feelings came rushing back. I was floored again, and what caused the feelings were similar circumstances to almost drowning – the mind, during a split moment in meditation, lost all of its content, all of its memories and planning, its thoughts and conclusions; there was only the emptiness, the same emptiness that I discovered when I nearly died in Lake Erie those many years ago.

Over the years, I have come to appreciate the freedom of meditation. Meditation involves no cramming of the mind with someone else's ideas, only an emptying of the mind where that certain wonderful freedom that I felt in Lake Erie can change one's consciousness. I don't know what that freedom is, although many have tried to explain it, label it with this word or that word, even built religions around it, but I prefer not to go there. I prefer to suffer with my unknowing.

But one thing I do know; that this suffering of mine involves an understanding of my predicament in what we call physical existence, and that eventually this special kind of suffering will lead to the end all of my suffering when I again touch that Reality that I have touched so many times before, both in life and in meditation, This I am convinced of in my heart.

And the heart is the most important place.

Marriage and parenting can be really difficult at times. I don't know about you, but I want to get this thing right. As a believer, there is a power that works in us to help us and aid us in every role we find ourselves in as we live out this life. That includes our roles as spouses and as parents. Hopefully, this series of articles will help shed some light on how you can tap into this power in your everyday life.

In scripture, we are instructed to live in the Spirit, walk in the Spirit, be filled with the Spirit, etc. All of that, of course, can sound pretty mystical and even a little freaky if we have no understanding of it. If we aren't careful, we can make this into a spiritual "twilight zone" experience that becomes very impractical and unfruitful. I don't know about you, but I'm a pretty practical person. When I am instructed in scripture to do something, I need to know how to apply that to my life in a very practical way. I believe that although the Spirit of God dwelling in us is something very supernatural, His ministry in and through us is a very practical thing. I think it is safe to say, if we are instructed to live life "in the Spirit" then we can learn how to live life "in the Spirit."

First off, we must understand that the key to living in the Spirit is learning to yield to the Holy Spirit in our lives. It's not a legalistic lifestyle of trying not to sin, it is simply becoming sensitive to the Holy Spirit and allowing Him to live through us. Let me give you an example. I struggle in the area of patience sometimes. Now, part of the character of the Holy Spirit is patience. Let's say I'm stuck in traffic and cars are just inching along. I have a choice to allow myself to yield to the Holy Spirit in me and exercise patience or blast right through that Holy Spirit yield sign. Most of the time I blast right by that yield sign. We call that living in the flesh not living in the spirit. As a result, the world sees my character and not that of the Holy Spirit in me.

So often we find ourselves praying for things like patience and what God wants us to realize is that learning to be patient is directly tied to a choice on our part to yield to the Holy Spirit in us. If you are a born again believer, filled with the Holy Spirit, then the character and personality of the Spirit of God dwells in you. Believe me, its in there somewhere. You may have trouble locating it sometimes, but trust me its there. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are all attributes that you and I can tap into if we will learn to yield to the Holy Spirit in us.

Some may be reading this and thinking, there is no way this can be so simple. There is something in us that wants to make the Christian life a difficult thing to understand. I don't think it is. Sure, to the unbeliever spiritual truths are a mystery. However, for the believer, God has sent the Holy Spirit to lead us and guide us in our discovery of the truth. God doesn't want us in the dark when it comes to understanding how to live life in the Spirit. Now, don't get me wrong. Understanding the Christian life and how to walk it out is different than actually walking it out. Therein, is our struggle. It's a process. A lifelong process. And, it's a lot easier said than done. The Word of God tells us that the flesh wars against the Spirit and the Spirit wars against the flesh. It's a war and wars are tough. And, sometimes they can get really ugly. But again, the Holy Spirit is in us helping us through the battle. Trust me, this living in the Spirit thing is not nearly as hard as we try to make it out to be.

Ok, so you're still not convinced? Let me give you a couple of examples that I think will help push this point home. When Mary was approached by the angel and told that she was going to give birth to Jesus, her response was "Be it done unto me according to your word." Her responsibility in the whole process was to allow God to do what He wanted to do through her. God was going to do all the work, all he wanted her to do, was yield to Him. Ok, now I know what some of you moms are thinking. I'm not saying that carrying a baby for nine months and then delivering that child is not work. What I am saying is that Mary had no part in this immaculate conception except to yield to it. Now, lets look at your salvation experience. God sent His Son to die a brutal death and then God miraculously raised Him from the dead. Your responsibility in the salvation experience was to believe that truth and then simply yield your life to Him. All through scripture, God worked through men and women who would simply yield themselves to Him. The Holy Spirit longs to work through you and I but, in order for that to happen we have to yield to Him.

So where do you begin? What is an area you struggle with? Perhaps you find that you consistently respond harshly to your children or spouse. Or, maybe you find it difficult to walk in love toward someone who has wronged you. Whatever it may be, take one area and focus on that. I mentioned earlier that I struggle in the area of patience, so that's an area I've committed to work on. Take some 3 X 5 cards and write down scriptures that apply to that one area and keep those in front of you. Put them on your computer, tape them to your sun visor, put them on your refrigerator, put them on your bathroom mirror, and carry them in your pocket. You'll find that as you practice yielding to the Holy Spirit in that area, that the process will become easier and easier until your normal reaction will be a reflection of the Holy Spirit in you. That's called transformation. That's where we all want to be.

The classic question, and one that should be answered directly. Here is the answer: Because "nothing" is reality, and "all this" is existence. So it's not an either – or situation, both are true simultaneously.

Reality doesn't exist. If it did, it would be part of "all this." "All this," in contrast to Reality, changes constantly; there is nothing within existence that doesn't change. Change creates time, and without change, time doesn't exist. Existence therefore, is never Reality, and Reality doesn't exist, even though these two truths cohabitate. It's very simple.

The part of us that we cling to, our ego, is caught within existence. Because our ego is caught within existence, it changes constantly. The part of us that is not caught within existence; Reality, never changes. It is unborn, undying, uncreated - eternal.

What could this unborn, undying, uncreated thing be if it's not our ego? It couldn't be our bodies, because our bodies are within existence and obviously change second to second. So what part of us is eternal and outside of time? It would have to be something familiar, because we must be responsible for this thing, whatever it is. It can't be something laid upon us by some God – so there must be a connection between us and it.

This indicates that our destinies are in our hands and not in the hands of a higher power. We actually have free will which can apparently affect Reality, which is beyond time. This free will is a very powerful force, and one that is misunderstood by logical thought. But consider the consequences of the powerful force of free will when it adversely affects Reality.

Since Reality is pliable and conforms to the wishes of existence-prone entities driven by the desires of their free will, Reality will passively provide another existence if that free will cannot see past existence, or the framework of an existence in flux. If that free will, caught up in existence, cannot see the transience of existence, the angst of existence, and the false construction of an ego in existence, then Reality will gracefully provide another organic being for the tendencies of the old ego to morph into. Endlessly.

Then we will enjoy "all this" again and again. Never can we enjoy "nothing." And the tragedy is: this very thing, this "nothing," is the constancy that we have always hoped for. But how do we get to it?

Hmmm . . .