I completed a diploma course in counseling, while continuing to be employed full-time. For the next few years, I responded to e-mails to my website requesting assistance on psycho-spiritual matters, for which I did not charge. Numerous free copies of my e-book were downloaded, and several hard copies of the book were also purchased. I was pleasantly surprised to receive an anonymous $50 cash donation in the mail (postmarked Los Vegas) from a reader who evidently found the e-book to be particularly helpful. Although reader comments were universally positive, after about five years I shut my site down, telling myself that the level of response did not justify the cost of maintaining it. However, the real reason was that, in spite of everything I had been through and learned, I had nagging doubts that I was truly ready to share my story with the world.
Fortunately, I continued to have some “big” dreams that gave me much-needed encouragement. One of these dreams was of direct relevance to the ending of the previous version of my book. I had written that although the task of self-discovery was not yet complete, I felt the need to “cast my bread upon the waters” – hence the book and my website. Although I was a bit wary of what I might yet have to face, possibly including additional bouts of depression as more memories and repressed feelings surfaced, one dream in particular reinforced my conviction that this healing process of self-discovery was progressing on a divinely-ordained path and would be completed. In the dream, I was struggling to control my car that was inching toward an incline that led underground beneath my mother's childhood home. I knew that if I held on very tightly to the steering wheel, the car's progress toward the incline would be slowed. But the current owner of the house, who was busily shoveling snow from the entrance to this incline, didn't appear to notice my approach, and I was worried that I would run her over. It seemed that the only way to warn her would be to loosen my grip on the wheel and honk the horn. After debating briefly with myself, this I did, and immediately the car proceeded down the incline and under the house.
Rather alarmed, I suddenly found myself out of the car and tumbling and turning as I was carried down the slope along with snow, water and dirt. Apprehensively, I thought about the mess I would encounter when I finally reached the bottom. But then, I noticed that the walls of the passageway were neatly paved with stones. And when I got to the bottom, there was no mess at all. Rather, everything was spotless and tidy (but still wet) and the floor boards were all properly in place, though I knew that things had been rearranged by an unseen hand. I marveled at the neatness and cleanliness of the floor and walls, and the presence of a window with light streaming through it. I turned to leave the room, while exclaiming "Praise God indeed!". As I said these words, I was imaging God not as a person, but rather as "the ground of being" - the divine force of incomprehensible love that is the foundation of everything in existence and that will never cease leading us toward complete psychospiritual integration.
Still, I was apprehensive about what I might encounter on my journey back. Mustering my courage, I began to head up-slope. Suddenly, I found myself floating on my back while being carried gently aloft to the surface. I felt marvelous, and I awakened, full of gratitude. This dream reinforced my belief that my life, indeed my very Self, was unfolding as it should, cradled in the unseen hand of God.
For the next several years, I generally functioned well, was productive at work, and enjoyed life with my family. However, although I knew I was loved by God, I still struggled at times because I continued to harbor unresolved issues that prevented me from truly loving myself. I had no idea how much difficulty I was yet to face.
In an effort to reconcile, spiritually, with my mother, I tried to initiate a discussion with her about the way her actions and attitudes may have contributed to the psycho-spiritual issues in her children, in particular my deceased sister. My mother became very defensive, and threatened to disinherit me if I ever raised the matter again. I never did, not because I really feared the loss of any inheritance (we were not a wealthy family), but because I didn’t want to upset my mother further. However, this made it more difficult for me to forgive her.
In 2003, my employer was sued for professional negligence by a large national corporation, and I was first among those named in the lawsuit. I and others in our company felt that the lawsuit was unjustified given the circumstances. Regardless, it progressed inexorably toward trial, and the various pre-trial examinations were very stressful. To my considerable relief, in 2006 the plaintiff agreed to a relatively small out-of-court settlement offered by our insurance company.
In 2007, a routine colonoscopy (my first) revealed a large polyp, which was removed and biopsied. The diagnosis was cancer, which was fortunately caught an an early stage. Medical personnel consulted among themselves, and it was decided that follow-up surgery or other treatment (aside from regular precautionary colonoscopies) was not indicated at that time. Still, I was naturally quite alarmed.
My stress level increased further when my mother died later that year. She had been suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, and spent her final few years in a nursing home. Eventually, her bodily functions started shutting down, and the medical staff advised that it was time to let her go. She fell into a coma, and my siblings and I waited by her bedside. It was very difficult to watch as her breathing became irregular and labored. We moistened her dry lips to try to keep her as comfortable as possible. She would stop breathing for quite long periods, and then would take a very deep breath. At one point, she suddenly sat bolt upright with her eyes wide open, and appeared very agitated. I painfully urged her to let go. I think that at the end, in spite of her having clung to religion for comfort over virtually her entire life, she was afraid to die. She had once told me that as a child she was very frightened at the prospect of dying and had resolved that, when it came time for her to face the end of her mortal existence, she would simply refuse to close her eyes. Finally her breathing stopped and didn’t start again. I broke down sobbing. My son comforted me with the words, “The Universe loves you, dad”.
While driving to my niece’s house in the country for a family gathering on the eve of my mother’s funeral, we were treated to the sight of a magnificent meteorite which streaked across half of the sky and disappeared beyond the horizon. It was the largest and brightest such display any of us had ever witnessed. My first thought was that it was a sign from the heavens in honor of the memory of my mother. The Divine sees the big picture.
In 2008, I began experiencing severe discomfort in the left side of my lower back. Getting out of bed in the morning became increasingly difficult. I visited the local clinic where I was prescribed a strong painkiller (which I was reluctant to take), and an X-ray was taken. I was told that my family doctor would call me later if anything potentially serious was found. The next day the pain was so bad that I had to roll out of bed onto the floor before struggling to stand upright. I had never before visited a chiropractor but decided I had nothing to lose. My wife drove me. The chiropractor examined me and concluded that I was suffering from “sacroiliac joint dysfunction” of unknown cause. He recommended that I return for regular treatments. When I told him that I had had a cancerous polyp removed from the lower left part of my colon the previous year, and that an X-ray had recently been taken, he seemed concerned and offered to call the clinic later that afternoon to inquire about the results. I accepted his offer with gratitude. That evening, he called me at home and told me that nothing out of the ordinary had shown up on the X-ray. This was a considerable relief. Nonetheless, the pain continued to worsen, and began to bother me even when I lay flat on my back, so that I started to lose sleep.
My wife and I had planned to drive from our home in northern Ontario to Calgary, Alberta, where we were to greet four relatives on my wife’s side, including her sister and brother, who were to fly in from France. The trip would also give us the opportunity to visit with our elder daughter in Calgary and our elder son in Vancouver. We would then take nearly two weeks exploring Alberta and British Columbia, camping most nights, before driving together back across the prairies to Ontario. Our relatives were to spend a few restful days visiting with us at our home before boarding their return flight to Paris. This had been the plan. My relatives had purchased their airline tickets, and my wife had developed the itinerary, including booking of campgrounds (this was peak tourist season in the Rockies) and the occasional chalet and hotel room.
But how could I possibly go? I couldn’t sit for any length of time, and even with a back brace, I had great difficulty walking and could only take tiny, shuffling steps. In general, I have always enjoyed driving, and had planned to drive virtually the entire distance (which my wife is quite happy to let me do, provided I am not feeling over-tired). Driving was now completely out of the question.
The morning of our scheduled departure, I lay in bed and contemplated staying at home. My wife, naturally, had resolved to drive by herself to Calgary, if necessary. As I thought about this, I realized that I simply could not let her go alone. Not only was she not accustomed to driving such long distances, I knew that she would be concerned about me and would have difficulty enjoying this long-planned vacation with her French family. And so I popped a painkiller, struggled out of bed, and packed a suitcase, with assistance from my wife. She arranged some pillows in the back seat of the van, and I tried to get as comfortable as possible while still keeping my seat belt attached. Off we went. However, it was not long before the pain had me second guessing my decision to come along. I considered catching a flight back home from the nearest airport, but that would mean sitting upright in the confines of a plane, which also seemed out of the question.
In our hotel that night, I barely slept. My attempts to get out of bed the next morning were met with excruciating pain. I had to roll sideways and slide off the bed onto the floor, before slowly and carefully grabbing onto furniture and pulling myself to a standing position. Once upright, however, I felt better, and managed to take a shower. My wife helped me get dressed, and we had some breakfast before setting out again.
Lying across the back seat of our van, I knew I was in need of Divine intervention. I prayed. At the next rest stop, I slid out of the van and stood upright, and immediately knew that something was different. Hesitatingly, I took a slightly larger step than I had been reduced to taking during the previous few weeks, but instead of pain, I experienced a tingling sensation at the base of my spine, like a mild electric shock. I took another, slightly larger step, and again there was a tingling sensation. This continued during the course of several consecutive larger steps until I could walk more or less normally. I was dumbfounded, and I was also extremely grateful. My prayer had evidently been answered.
When we got back into the van, I was able to sit upright with virtually no discomfort. We continued on across the prairies, and stopped for the night at a motel called (fittingly, I thought) the Pilgrim Inn. Lying in bed that evening, there was no pain. In its place, I felt the familiar extremely pleasurable stirrings of Kundalini. My sleep was positively blissful, and breakfast the next morning was thoroughly enjoyable. I decided that I felt well enough to drive, and so I did. I had to be careful to avoid sudden movement, however, and I wore a back brace for several more days. But suffice it to state that we had a wonderful vacation, and I have not suffered any recurrence of the back pain.
However, my brush with cancer and the manner of my mother’s passing continued to weigh heavily on me. I quite looked forward to a glass of wine to “relax and unwind” after work, and another with dinner. Finally, one day in late 2009, I came to acknowledge that, in spite of all I had been through and all I had learned, I myself did not feel ready to die – I was not “prepared to meet my maker”. I was concerned that I had too much “ego”, and I became determined to get rid of it. I now understand that ridding oneself of one's ego is impossible (for the ego cannot dissolve itself), and any such attempt is doomed to failure and is potentially dangerous. But that was my firm resolve at the time. And so I began to meditate in earnest. I went deep within myself, intent on rooting out the remaining memories and emotions that I believed were keeping me from realizing my real identity. However, for me, going within has also meant depression. My appetite dwindled, and I had great difficulty sleeping. When I did manage to sleep a little, I had disturbing dreams.
It was a real struggle to try to remain positive, and eventually I became so tired of the battle I was waging with myself that I knew I needed to find comfort and solace in whatever way I could. In my book, I describe my previous spontaneous experiences with Kundalini, and how they were always powerful healing events for me. I decided that I needed (and indeed deserved) to once again feel the pleasure at the base of my spine. And so, that night, I went even further within, and I entered a great and very still void. From within this void, I gave myself permission to feel the exquisitely soothing pleasure. It began immediately, and it was indeed a welcome respite from my struggles. However, I had the sense to know that I wasn’t ready for anything more, and I purposefully shut if off after only a few moments of enjoyment.
Although it was a revelation to discover that I apparently had a degree of conscious control over this spiritual energy, I continued to slip deeper into depression. I was very concerned about the stress I was causing my family, and suicidal thoughts that I hoped had been put to rest many years prior re-emerged. Finally, I became so distraught that I told my wife that perhaps I should go out into the forest and just shoot myself (essentially echoing the fate of my younger sister 24 years earlier). I recall my wife crying out and collapsing onto our bed, holding her chest. She told me later that she had actually (and understandably) been very angry with me.
I managed to regain some composure and told her I needed to go for a drive. She was too upset to accompany me so I drove off by myself. However, my mind was in utter turmoil. The thought occurred to me that the experience of Kundalini I had brought upon myself was an act of the ego, rather than of Spirit, and that all of my previous spiritual experiences had been contaminated and were somehow fake and meaningless. Indeed, it seemed as if my entire struggle over the past 29 years had been some sort of cruel joke. My heart sank so far it felt like it had dropped out of my body.
This was January, in northern Ontario, and I decided I would drive into the wilderness until my gas tank ran dry, and then walk into the bush, lie down, and freeze to death. I drove for several miles, feeling absolutely hopeless. I didn’t really want to die, but how could I continue living? And then, suddenly, I knew the truth, as sure as sure can be. It was indeed Spirit, and not ego, that was responsible for my recent Kundalini experience. Spirit had been in control all along. There was still hope! I grasped at this revelation, and immediately decided to drive myself straight to the hospital, about an hour away.
The drive seemed to take a very long time, and I was very concerned that I might change my mind and turn around. But I didn’t. Upon arrival at the hospital, I called my wife and told her where I was and that I was feeling much better. She expressed relief. When I described my situation to the emergency room physician, he immediately admitted me to the psychiatric ward. I had to spend two days and nights in the hallway waiting for a bed to become available, but this was mostly a peaceful time for me. I was comforted by the thought that I would receive the rest and help I needed.
After being assigned a room, I decided to be as sociable as possible with my fellow patients. One attractive female patient who appeared to be about my age sat down at my table. I asked her name, and was surprised by the answer, for she had the same uncommon first name as my first love, to whom I had not even spoken since high school. As described in my book, I fell for a girl in early public school (initially in response to her encouragement), but although my feelings for her continued and even intensified right through university, they were essentially unrequited. Intrigued, I asked her what her surname was, and she confirmed her identity.
I nearly fell out of my chair. I had experienced synchronicity many times, but this was certainly a particularly powerful example. I knew without a doubt that the powers of the Universe had conspired to bring this encounter about. Feeling I had nothing to lose, and no reputation to defend, I proceeded to describe to the others at our table how I had been so head over heels for this girl (henceforth referred to as “Y”), but how, ultimately, I had been rejected. Immediately, Y stated that she had never rejected me, but that she had always been competitive and had felt intimidated by my intelligence. I protested, explaining that the reason for my success in school was based more on my fear of failure and rejection than on any superior intelligence.
Anyway, so began anew a relationship that continued via e-mail (with me in France and Y in Canada) for some time. For a while, I wondered if the Universe might have more in store regarding the two of us. My wife was naturally somewhat concerned that Y and I were in the hospital at the same time. She later told me that she had also wondered about the purpose of this encounter. I love my wife, and certainly did not want to hurt her. However, I felt that it was important that I be open and honest about my feelings, knowing full well from experience that denial of feelings created more difficulties than it might appear to solve. Therefore, I let myself feel. My childhood hopes for requited love were reflected in my dreams. But I came to understand that this part of me was living in the past, and did not fit with the reality of the present. Both Y and I are now different people. From my current perspective, it seems that the purpose of my meeting Y in the hospital was two-fold: to give me further proof of the divine intelligence of the Universe, and to help heal my original ego wound. I am deeply grateful. In any case, there is no denying that my feelings for Y helped shape who I am today, and I will always cherish our friendship.
The reason that Y had admitted herself to hospital, shortly before my arrival, was related to a failed marriage. Upon discovering that her former husband had apparently abused their daughter, she had become extremely angry and depressed, and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.
My psychiatrist listened to my story. She concluded that I was likely suffering from some type of bipolar disorder, which had first made itself evident following the birth of my first son (as described in my book). However, she also stated that my case was certainly unusual and atypical. I was prescribed a sedative and an antidepressant.
My hospital stay lasted about two weeks. At one point, an elderly female patient divulged to me that Y had asked her whether God would be upset if she fell in love with a married man. The possibility that my first love could actually love me back made my heart beat faster. Prior to my voluntary discharge, a few days following Y’s departure, my psychiatrist told me that there had been rumors regarding a developing romantic relationship. I was advised not to pursue it.
Some weeks after I had returned home, my wife and I decided to take a brief vacation in a nearby town, accompanied by our younger daughter and her friend. I had been feeling a lot of anger toward the vestiges of the demanding and judgmental male deity in my psyche. During the drive to our hotel, I allowed myself to internally verbalize this anger, knowing that the true Divine has no ego and could never be offended. Still, I spent another fitful night, managing just scant sleep. The next morning, we toured some of the local arts and crafts shops, and then it was time to grab some lunch. As usual, my mind had been quite active, but what happened next was certainly unexpected, and is difficult to describe. As if in a single thought, I saw precisely how I had created my personal reality. I completely understood that it was my thoughts and my decisions (many of which had been made in response to trauma), that had resulted in the most significant events of my life, both pleasant and unpleasant. I saw the intricate interconnections, and knew my thoughts were responsible for where I was at that moment. On a deep spiritual level, I had chosen my path. Although I knew it would include much suffering, I also knew it would benefit others. I was a divine co-creator with God.
This awareness of my personal truth was an extraordinarily magnificent experience - a gift of grace that was subsequently to prove indispensable to me. It was accompanied by a profound feeling of self-acceptance and love. However, I immediately understood that it was not something to be grasped. I knew that this realization of my own divinity was TRUTH, but that I had to let it go for now, because I was not ready to assimilate it. At the time, this having to let go did not bother me in the slightest. I was certain that it would return to me (or rather me to it), eventually, because it was real, and that was all that mattered. This realization lifted my depression immediately. I thoroughly enjoyed my meal, and then we left for home.
This feeling of well-being did not last for long. That very night, lying in bed and unable to sleep, I felt myself, almost literally it seemed, descend into a dark pit. Vainly, I grasped at the memory of my recent experience with divine thought. However, I was unable to recall how I had been able to see and understand the manner in which I had created my personal reality. It seemed impossibly complicated, and so I began to question the validity of the experience. The ego is essentially a fear monger, and I found myself battling against Illogical and paranoid ideas. In particular, the fear arose that my reality was entirely limited to me, that I had somehow created everything and everyone in it, and that therefore my struggles, and indeed my entire existence, were meaningless. This same fear, which essentially reflects the philosophy of solipsism, had been a thorn in my side many years before. It was as if the ego were trying to tell me that the truth was actually too good to be true, because I didn’t deserve all that goodness and love. I felt terribly isolated and alone. This continued for several weeks.
In the midst of this darkness, I received a very welcome glimpse of reality. A replacement window that I had planned to install in our house laid leaning against the basement wall. One day, while trying to distract myself in the basement, I happened to glance at this window and suddenly felt suffused with love at the simple idea of installing it. When I climbed the stairs and entered the kitchen, I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that I was not alone. This was an incredibly welcome relief.
Alas, my dark mood again returned with a vengeance. I began to fear that I could eventually cause harm to myself, or perhaps even turn against my family, if my situation didn’t improve. These fears fed my downward spiral. Finally, I called my psychiatrist, and she advised me to return to the relatively safe environment of the hospital. My brother kindly drove me. I was extremely disillusioned and disheartened at having felt the need to re-enter the hospital.
At one point, while lying in my hospital bed, I felt so fed up and so unloved and unlovable that the notion that I might end my existence in some tragically vengeful manner entered my mind. This really frightened me. Thankfully, my deeper knowledge of the innate beauty and goodness of existence and of my own being, as well as the idea that perhaps I had something important to say, that I had a light at my core that needed to shine, was stronger than my wounded ego. I soon found myself wanting to leave. I discharged myself after a few days, determined to do whatever it took to get to the root of my problem.
The fact that some persons do choose to use violence as a way of seeking revenge and/or notoriety continued to cause me considerable distress. My wife has remarked that I have an insatiable need to understand and discover the truth. If others had succumbed to the lies of the ego, what was stopping me from doing the same? After all, we are all created equal, and I believe we remain equal. But how was true self-acceptance, let alone self-love, possible in the face of any potential for violence? I think I now understand why some deeply wounded persons, full of anger and self-hatred, might seek revenge and attention through acts of violence. They don’t realize that they are responding through their false and impermanent self, the ego. It’s like they’re saying, “You’ve taught me that I’m bad – I’ll show you bad”. Their innate beauty and goodness, which is eternal, has gone unrecognized by their significant others, and indeed by society as a whole, and therefore they are unable to recognize it in themselves. This is where our so-called justice system has gotten it sadly wrong. Criminals can never be truly reformed until they come to realize the truth of their innate goodness, because no one who knows who he/she really is could ever intentionally cause harm. We are created in the image of the Divine, and our true identity is the same as God’s, which is love. The root cause of “evil” is Ignorance, but the truth makes us free.
I think there are those who seem rather self-satisfied when others commit crimes, because they can then say to themselves: “I’m better than you”. These are often the same people whose motivation for abstaining from doing “evil” is fear of God’s judgment and spending an eternity in hell. All fear originates in the ego. If such persons really knew who they themselves are, they would also know who the criminals really are, and they would feel compassion rather than disdain and judgment. When we know ourselves, we do not require any external motivation to pursue goodness, for our true nature, the nature of Spirit, is love. Fear of being judged, as well as a need to judge others and feel superior, is rooted in the ego that is unable to see the truth that we are all equally divine beings. The Ten Commandments are unnecessary for those who know who they are.
I often slept (I use the term loosely) in an outbuilding (equipped with bunk beds and a washroom) so that my wife could sleep more peacefully. One snowy evening, I felt a need for an even greater separation from my family, and so I drove to our cottage, accompanied by our dog. After lighting the wood stove for warmth, I lay on the bed in the dark and allowed myself to feel a quite extraordinary pain – the pain of completely acknowledging that my mother had not loved me for simply being me – her son. I had subconsciously recognized this from an early age and had struggled throughout my childhood to earn her love, with devastating consequences to my psyche. The pain that this brought was excruciating, and I sobbed and moaned uncontrollably. As a child, I could not allow myself to feel it, because it could literally have killed me. Now, as an adult, the pain itself could no longer kill me, but still I did not know how I could possibly deal with it. I simply did not have the resources.
Suddenly I experienced another completely unexpected miracle. I heard two very distinct sharp knocks, like a fist on a door, coming from thin air directly in front of my face – “knock, knock”. Let me state here unequivocally that this was not a hallucination, which is a creation of the ego that is typically associated with fear. I knew right away that it wasn’t an ego “joke”. Rather, it was perhaps the most serious, and most loving, event I had ever witnessed. It would be difficult for me to overstate its significance. What sprang immediately to mind was the Bible verse, “Knock, and it shall be opened to you”, and I responded desperately by mentally returning the knock. I lay awake pondering this event for the rest of the night, and drove home the next morning, still feeling rather down, but with a renewed sense of hope and determination.
Seven years have passed, and I have been living in France, essentially medication-free (other than a glass of wine at dinner) with my wife for the past six of them. As described in my book, there have been some brief depressive episodes, which ended as soon as I learned what I needed to learn, and I continue to deal with some social anxiety. Above all, however, I am grateful for the miracle of Jesus’ knocking on my door. The real meaning, I am now convinced, is found in a different Bible passage (Revelation 3:20): “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my knock, and opens the door, I will come in and sup with him, and he with me”. This knock was my personal proof of the validity of Jesus, and of my own journey. The timing of the knock, I believe, was a message that Jesus knew the depths of my desperation, because he had been there. I believe that Jesus struggled, as many of us do, to undo the damage caused by his caregivers, and bring his innocent, loving and lovable inner child back to life to once again experience real joy on this earth. He discovered the truth about his own divine birthright, and he wanted others to discover this same truth about themselves, and to live it. He said, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven”. He also told his disciples, “Let the little children come unto me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven”. I believe the real message behind the words “I am the way, the truth and the life - No one comes to the Father but by me” is not that we must accept Jesus' crucifixion as payment for our sins, demanded by a deity whose love is conditional in order to gain entry to heaven after death, but that we are to do as Jesus did – we are to imitate him in order to liberate our own divine inner child and find heaven on earth. The conditions are not yet right in me for the complete expression of my inner child, but I am very hopeful.
I have kept a dream journal and flashlight by my bedside for many, many years. Dreams are reflections of our subconscious, our inner self, and can tell us things that are hidden from the conscious ego. In my book, I talk a lot about the personal meaning of dreams. Some dreams are more significant than others. There are dreams that make no obvious sense, and then there are “big” dreams that seem to impart knowledge from beyond, from “cosmic consciousness” perhaps. I have had many dreams of being lost, or confused, or not being good enough, but I have not had a single dream in which I have made any attempt, or had any desire, to hurt another (other than in self-defense, and I have not had this type of self-defense dream in years). On the other hand, I have had several dreams in which I have felt deep compassion for other innocent persons who have been mortally wounded. This has helped reinforce my conviction that, contrary to what I was taught and swallowed (hook, line and sinker) as a child (i.e., that I was “by nature sinful and unclean”), I am innately good; as are you - as is the worst criminal, including Hitler and other mass murderers. The cause of all criminality is an absence of true self-love. It is as the Buddha said, “Whoever truly loves himself can never harm another”. I am not speaking here of narcissism. Indeed, narcissistic persons lack true self-love. The self-love that I am speaking about is the self-love we are born with, which is our natural condition in the absence of learned self-rejection. It is complete acceptance of who we really are, at our core, with no need for any sort of external validation. It is being at home in our own skin. When we truly love ourselves, we don’t need to look good (either to others or in a mirror) in order to feel good.
Jesus lived his life on this earth expressing his divinity, which is also our true nature. He did die on the cross, but yet he lives, and he is, in a real sense, my savior, just not in the manner taught by traditional Christianity. Jesus demonstrated “the way, and the truth, and the life”, and he remains available to guide us. I am reminded of a dream I had shortly after my panic attacks started over 30 years ago. I was “swimming” in dense fog, feeling completely lost. Then I noticed a light on the distant horizon, and I started to swim desperately toward it, but I seemed to be making very little headway. However, I wasn’t alone – there was a figure alongside me, trying to guide me to the light. I believe this was Jesus, who has always been with me. Had he not knocked on my door that cold spring night in 2010, the past few years would certainly have been far more difficult, perhaps unbearably so. I have received an enormous amount of reassurance from that fully loving act, and I am truly grateful.
Jesus is there to guide us, if we let him. But we have to do the work, just as he did. We are urged to “take up our cross” and follow him as his disciples. We have to be willing to sacrifice our ego to the goal of Spirit. This process can be very frightening, because the ego fears death and believes (wrongly) that we are not good, but in fact the process is a return to a recognition of our innate innocence and goodness. It is a return to love and joy. If we are sincere in our quest, and are prepared to relinquish all that the ego holds dear, we will be given the necessary guidance and support. Indeed, if our intentions are truly in the service of Spirit, we may even be given the power to perform miracles. Jesus said, “Whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father”. The divine universal force of which we are all a part (call it God, Divine Intelligence, Cosmic Consciousness, or whatever you are comfortable with), sets the stage, and we become the delivery vehicle for the miracle.
For those who are interested in finding out more about the real Jesus, I recommend reading up on the so-called Gnostic gospels, which were rejected for inclusion in the Bible at the Council of Nicea in A.D. 323. The exclusion of these books was a political decision, meant to strengthen the power-structured male dominated Church hierarchy and entrench patriarchal dogma into the teachings of the Church. One of the first (and, in my opinion, best) books on this subject is Elaine Pagels’ “The Gnostic Gospels”. I am most fascinated by the Gospel of Thomas. This has been called a “roadmap to enlightenment”. Sayings attributed to Jesus by the Gospel of Thomas that are particularly meaningful to me include: “My mother gave me falsehood, but my true Mother gave me life”, “Blessed are they who have been persecuted within themselves. It is they who have truly come to know the Father” and “Blessed is the man who has suffered and found life”. However, as with virtually all “spiritual” books (including the Bible), aspects that reflect the personal views of the writer, views distorted by the ego and therefore not representing ultimate truth, are found within the Gospel of Thomas. Sayings that I would place into this group include, "Every woman who will make herself male will enter the Kingdom of heaven". Jesus was actually a feminist, who had a special relationship with a female disciple named Mary Magdalene (see both the Gospel of Philip and the Gospel of Mary Magdalene for more on this relationship).
Jesus, I am convinced, never intended to found a new religion, with its own rules, creeds and hierarchy. Religions are power structures that try to convince us that we must look outside of ourselves for the answers to life’s most important questions, when in fact the answers are within. Jesus came to show us the way back to true selves, wherein lies our joy. He said “The kingdom of God is within you”. He also said, “These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full”. He never claimed that he was God’s sacrifice for our sins, and he certainly would not be pleased with some of what is being preached in fundamentalist “Christian” churches in his name. These churches teach that, in order to avoid God’s judgment that would otherwise cast us into hell, we must believe that Jesus died for our sins and accept him, and him alone, as our savior. This is a false, fear-based teaching. What Jesus actually taught is that, in order to be truly saved (i.e., from our own egos), we must come to know who we really are - innocent and loving children of the Universe, and part and parcel of the Divine. We must forgive all, and love everyone, unconditionally, beginning with ourselves. We must care for those who are less fortunate than ourselves, and that means sharing our wealth. We must treat others as our equals. And we will do these things, when we realize that in doing them, we are expressing our true selves. Anything done as an expression of who we really are will bring joy to all concerned. If we find that doing these things does not bring us joy, it may be better to not attempt to do them at all. I subscribe to daily inspirational e-mails called “Tut – A Note from the Universe” (www.tut.com), and this is a recent message: “Robert, be on guard against those who help others in the name of sacrifice, selflessness, or altruism, instead of in the name of joy. Because usually, they don't really help all that much.”
Some time ago, I dreamed that I encountered two strangers, who directed me to enter the basement of the home of my childhood friend, where I would receive a special gift. As a child, I spent many happy hours with this friend and his family. In particular, I had appreciated the affection displayed by his mother. Nevertheless, in my dream, I was apprehensive going down the stairs, because the basement was very dark and I had no idea what I might find there. As I descended, I noticed a small shadowy figure in the corner of the room. My apprehension grew as I approached cautiously for a closer look. The figure turned to face me, and I was amazed to discover that I was staring at myself, as a little boy of about three years of age. I immediately felt a very deep love for this little boy, and lifted him in my arms. I asked him if he knew who I was, and he replied, “You’re my daddy”. Feeling a tremendous sense of responsibility for his well-being, I asked if he was okay, and he said that he was fine. However, I knew I could not hold him for long. I told him that I hoped to see him again soon, and gently placed him on the floor. When I did so, he went limp like a rag doll. I awakened, and marveled at the depth of my love for my inner child. Although it is not a feeling I am yet able to maintain on a continuous or even regular basis, I know that this child is my divinity. In order to rediscover the kingdom of heaven within us (heaven on earth), we must let our inner child live through us.
Later, I dreamed that I had a revelation concerning my father’s feelings about me when I was an infant. In my dream, I realized that my father had harbored a death wish for me, apparently related to jealousy regarding attention from my mother. This realization shocked me awake. I love my father – he did the best he could. He was an honest man, but he suffered from low self-esteem and could get extremely angry, especially if he had been drinking. I, more so than any of my siblings, bore the brunt of his anger. I had no idea of the degree to which the physical abuse I had experienced had affected my psyche until I self-compassionately gave myself permission to express and release the anguish some 20 years ago. This was the single most cathartic event of my life. When I later confronted my father with the fact that he had hurt me terribly, he made no attempt to make excuses, and simply said he was sorry. I was not able to be at his bedside when he died, but it was a quick and peaceful passing. At his funeral, I gave a brief eulogy during which I stated that I believed that my father finally knew what he was made of, and it was love – boundless, unconditional love. Subsequently, I dreamed that he was being carried along in a procession on the shoulders of several men, and a choir was singing in his honor.
I used to have frequent nightmares of being stalked and threatened by bears. As a child, I developed a fear of bears, likely due mainly to a couple of incidents that occurred at our summer cottage, which are described in my book. I have read that bears in dreams can symbolize the mother and/or family in general. The bad dreams continued up until about two years ago, when I dreamed that I encountered a very large female bear. For the first time, I was not frightened, but rather I felt a surge of love for this creature. It was like the bear and I were old, dear friends. I thought perhaps that signaled the end of my scary bear dreams, but recently I again dreamed that I was being threatened by a large bear, and I cried out for help (perhaps explainable by my having just watched The Revenant). I also dreamed that I witnessed, from a distance, my wife being chased by a large polar bear, which was itself being chased by several dogs. Seeing my wife in what I perceived to be mortal danger shocked and frightened me greatly, to the point that I cried out loud and awakened both my wife and me. This dream is awaiting interpretation.
Several years ago, I dreamed that my older sister was chasing another vehicle in which her grandchildren were being held against their will, and were at risk of severe harm. I watched as she pulled up beside the driver of the vehicle she was chasing, who then drew a gun and aimed it at her. I feared for her life, and decided I had to take action. Looking around for some sort of shield, I located what resembled a metal garbage can lid. I held this in front of me and charged, shouting, at the man with the gun, intending to wrest the weapon from him. Then I awakened.
In my experience, emotionally-powerful dreams like this are meaningful, and so I told my sister about it. A few weeks later, I received the awful news that my niece, who was my sister’s eldest child, had died of an apparent overdose of narcotics. Her marriage had already become a victim of her struggles with addiction, and now her two young children were innocent victims as well. My wife and I flew back to Canada to support my sister and the rest of her family at this very difficult time. During our conversations, my sister told me that, when she herself had heard the terrible news, she thought of my dream warning.
Although I was not faced with the terrible trauma of having lost a child, this was nonetheless a very difficult time for me. I again had trouble sleeping and experienced quite rapid mood swings. At times, I feared my own thoughts and worried that I was a bad person. At other times, I felt loving and hopeful. I had battled through several bouts of depression in the past, and was comforted by remembering that I had always come out of it spiritually stronger than before. I knew it had a purpose.
Still, in the midst of this struggle, I had an extremely disturbing dream. There was a fence around me, protecting me from potential intruders who were seeking to gain entry. I felt very threatened, and desperately went around the perimeter seeking to ensure that all entry points were securely closed. In spite of my best efforts, I apparently made a “silly” oversight and the unwanted persons gained entry. They proceeded to castigate me for my carelessness, and I was certain that the consequences of my carelessness would be my own death. Feeling enormously disheartened and without hope, I awakened. I initially interpreted the dream as telling me that I had indeed made some sort of fatal mistake during my spiritual quest for wholeness. I felt so desperate that I immediately woke my wife in order to talk things through with her. As she has done many times in the past, she reassured me that it was just a dream that reflected a fear in my ego. It is impossible for the ego to make any sort of mistake that could permanently separate oneself from one’s true divine identity. The intruders were of my own creation, and I could learn from this dream and grow spiritually as a result.
I think that this dream was telling me that I had been trying too hard and was becoming too rigid in my pursuit of my true self. It was a case of the ego trying to use itself to find Spirit. In fact, Spirit cannot be found by the ego. Love is our true identity, and it is this identity that surfaces when ego is seen for the illusion that it is and dissipates.
Although I knew this to be true, the impact of the dream remained with me for some time, and the fear that I might never succeed in finding the “pearl of great price” occasionally resurfaced. Four memories of events that I have previously described helped ground me by reminding me of who I really am, a completely loving and lovable divine being. The first was the realization that we are all powerful co-creators of our personal reality, the second was my dream of the loving encounter with my inner child in the basement of my childhood friend’s home, the third was my dream of risking my life to try to save my sister and her grandchildren, and the fourth was my hearing, while in a fully awake state, the Spirit of Jesus lovingly knocking at my door.
Compassion is a very important part of love, and that includes self-compassion. As Buddha said, “Unless your compassion includes yourself, it is incomplete”. For me, self-compassion has been crucial. We are self-compassionate when we finally acknowledge our childhood wounds, and that we did not deserve to have been hurt like that. We allow ourselves to grieve the pain of the past. This is instrumental in releasing the self-rejection that has been trapped for so long within us and that has affected our ability to live happily as adults. We are finally freed to love ourselves in the present. This is distinguished from self-pity, which keeps us focused on our present suffering, and does nothing to release the original cause of the pain.
As a result of having acknowledged and grieved my own childhood wounds, I am able to feel compassion for the suffering of my fellow human beings. This includes not only the obviously innocent, such as young children exposed to physical, sexual or emotional abuse, but also the adults who, as a consequence of such abuse in childhood, have lost contact with their true selves and end up hurting themselves or others. No one is born into this world with the intention to cause harm. Unfortunately, abused children are robbed of their ability to love and to trust in the Universe, which is the source of joy. I think this is the greatest tragedy in the world today, and is the cause of virtually all conflict. This is what Jesus was referring to when he spoke harsh words to this effect, “If any man would cause one of these little ones to stray, it would be better for him if a millstone had been tied around his neck and he was cast into the sea”.
I believe that we all came into this world with an innate sense of our own magnificence and divinity – we were not born “humble”. One of the Psalms says, “You are gods, and all of you are children of the most high”. Jesus referred to this passage when his claims to divinity were challenged by his own people, answering “Is it not written in your law, ‘I said, you are gods’? “ Why should a child of God, part and parcel of the very force that created the universe, be humble? We certainly have reason to be thankful, but any humility would be false humility. On the other hand, I am not saying we should be proud. Pride inflates the ego through comparison with others. We are equally magnificent beings. Unfortunately, many caregivers, and society as a whole, are determined to “put children in their place”, and any attempts by children to express their true identity are largely met with scorn and derision or more serious forms of abuse. Children are regularly taught that they must both worship and fear God, as if God commands this of them. This distorts the image of the Divine within the child. God is infinitely gentle and entirely loving, and does not have an ego that wants to be either feared or worshiped, any more than Jesus wants to be feared or worshiped. God’s will, above all else, is our well-being. If it is important to our happiness that we worship God, then that would be what God wants, but it is not required of us. God wants us to know and enjoy his/her closeness. Do loving parents want their children to worship them? Recognizing the goodness of God, in whose image we are created, and enjoying the gift of life, naturally leads us to love and appreciate God. Gratitude is a key to happiness.
Children raised in a fundamentalist environment are exposed to the false doctrine of “original sin”, which teaches them that they are born “sinful and unclean”. They are taught that they must believe certain things and act certain ways or they will be judged and condemned by God. Fear is instilled in their vulnerable hearts through teaching them that there is an evil creature called the devil that wants to steal their souls away. This is horrendous religious abuse. Any judgment we imagine that God might pass on us or others is a reflection of the fear in our own ego. Would loving parents allow their children to be condemned to everlasting torment in hell? The intent may be to stop children from “getting too big for their britches”, but the result is low self-esteem, indeed even self-hatred. This self-rejection can manifest in physical and/or psychological illness, possibly leading to anti-social behavior and criminality. As Anita Moorjani describes in her fascinating book “Dying to be Me”, it was her deathbed realization of her own power and magnificence that allowed her to heal from terminal cancer. She has made it her mission to help others understand the importance of unconditional self-love above all else. Learning to love others begins with learning to love ourselves.
I also feel increased compassion for animals. Not long ago, we rescued a fledgling chimney sweep that had evidently fallen from the roof of a house and landed on the sidewalk, unable to fly. We could not return it to its nest, so we brought it home, in the hope of nurturing it long enough for it to take flight (chimney sweeps spend virtually their entire adult lives in the air, except when nesting). We prepared a small shelter that provided protection from potential predators and the elements, and gave “little George” food and water, based on recommendations we found online. He seemed to be thriving. However, on the morning of the third day, we found him dead. I was surprised by the depth of my grief, and how badly I had wanted him to live and experience the joy of flight.
A short time later, I spotted a small rat in our compost. Without much thought, I put some commercial product containing rat poison in a bowl and placed it in the compost container. When I went to deposit some leftovers into the compost a few days later, the rat was crawling along the ground, clearly suffering. I felt awful. I couldn’t bring myself to dispatch the poor creature, and decided instead to provide it with water in the slim hope that it might recover. The next day, it was dead. I will never again try to poison one of God’s creatures.
Recently, I dreamed that I was sharing some laughs with my brother and a family friend. It started out with the friend recounting how his own father (deceased) had had a self-deprecating sense of humor. He used to say, for example, that his need for an alarm clock to tell him when it was time to get up was even greater than for those who were obviously mentally-challenged. I commented that “at least he didn’t say he felt like shit”. This struck me as quite amusing, and was apparently even funnier to an older woman who was passing by and overheard my comment and laughed out loud. (To add some perspective, one of the first things a psychiatrist told me over 30 years ago, when I was searching for relief from panic attacks, was that I thought I was shit.) Then, as my dream continued, my brother said something that made me laugh, but I don’t recall what it was. What I do remember is that my laugh sounded like a dog’s bark, and hearing my own funny laugh made me laugh even harder, to the point that I was crying from laughter. I tried to say, “I sound like Cindy” (Cindy was the family dog when my brother and I were children), but I was laughing so hard I couldn’t even get the words out. I awakened knowing that the joy of laughing at yourself because nothing can take away from who you really are is a great way to start the day!
Most recently, I dreamed that I was standing at an open doorway peering into a very dark house, trying to decide whether or not to enter. I was afraid of what might lie in wait for me. I thought about the possibility of being ambushed and maybe even killed. But then I reminded myself what my past experiences had shown me – that I was safe and loved in the Universe, and that whatever might happen to me would be based on love. So I mustered up the courage to proceed, and walked slowly into the darkness. I was relieved when nothing attacked me, and I sat down on a couch and began to watch a game show on TV. However, I was still apprehensive that someone or something might sneak up behind me. And indeed someone did come up behind me, but rather than being harmed in any way, I felt a gentle hand stroking my hair and a gentle kiss being placed on the back of my neck. I turned my head and saw my mother. Then I awoke.
The Universe is a determined teacher, and relentlessly leads us to the realization of our true identity. Love is behind everything, even those circumstances and events that seem to hurt us. When we understand that, our resistance softens and our suffering is eased.
Fortunately, I continued to have some “big” dreams that gave me much-needed encouragement. One of these dreams was of direct relevance to the ending of the previous version of my book. I had written that although the task of self-discovery was not yet complete, I felt the need to “cast my bread upon the waters” – hence the book and my website. Although I was a bit wary of what I might yet have to face, possibly including additional bouts of depression as more memories and repressed feelings surfaced, one dream in particular reinforced my conviction that this healing process of self-discovery was progressing on a divinely-ordained path and would be completed. In the dream, I was struggling to control my car that was inching toward an incline that led underground beneath my mother's childhood home. I knew that if I held on very tightly to the steering wheel, the car's progress toward the incline would be slowed. But the current owner of the house, who was busily shoveling snow from the entrance to this incline, didn't appear to notice my approach, and I was worried that I would run her over. It seemed that the only way to warn her would be to loosen my grip on the wheel and honk the horn. After debating briefly with myself, this I did, and immediately the car proceeded down the incline and under the house.
Rather alarmed, I suddenly found myself out of the car and tumbling and turning as I was carried down the slope along with snow, water and dirt. Apprehensively, I thought about the mess I would encounter when I finally reached the bottom. But then, I noticed that the walls of the passageway were neatly paved with stones. And when I got to the bottom, there was no mess at all. Rather, everything was spotless and tidy (but still wet) and the floor boards were all properly in place, though I knew that things had been rearranged by an unseen hand. I marveled at the neatness and cleanliness of the floor and walls, and the presence of a window with light streaming through it. I turned to leave the room, while exclaiming "Praise God indeed!". As I said these words, I was imaging God not as a person, but rather as "the ground of being" - the divine force of incomprehensible love that is the foundation of everything in existence and that will never cease leading us toward complete psychospiritual integration.
Still, I was apprehensive about what I might encounter on my journey back. Mustering my courage, I began to head up-slope. Suddenly, I found myself floating on my back while being carried gently aloft to the surface. I felt marvelous, and I awakened, full of gratitude. This dream reinforced my belief that my life, indeed my very Self, was unfolding as it should, cradled in the unseen hand of God.
For the next several years, I generally functioned well, was productive at work, and enjoyed life with my family. However, although I knew I was loved by God, I still struggled at times because I continued to harbor unresolved issues that prevented me from truly loving myself. I had no idea how much difficulty I was yet to face.
In an effort to reconcile, spiritually, with my mother, I tried to initiate a discussion with her about the way her actions and attitudes may have contributed to the psycho-spiritual issues in her children, in particular my deceased sister. My mother became very defensive, and threatened to disinherit me if I ever raised the matter again. I never did, not because I really feared the loss of any inheritance (we were not a wealthy family), but because I didn’t want to upset my mother further. However, this made it more difficult for me to forgive her.
In 2003, my employer was sued for professional negligence by a large national corporation, and I was first among those named in the lawsuit. I and others in our company felt that the lawsuit was unjustified given the circumstances. Regardless, it progressed inexorably toward trial, and the various pre-trial examinations were very stressful. To my considerable relief, in 2006 the plaintiff agreed to a relatively small out-of-court settlement offered by our insurance company.
In 2007, a routine colonoscopy (my first) revealed a large polyp, which was removed and biopsied. The diagnosis was cancer, which was fortunately caught an an early stage. Medical personnel consulted among themselves, and it was decided that follow-up surgery or other treatment (aside from regular precautionary colonoscopies) was not indicated at that time. Still, I was naturally quite alarmed.
My stress level increased further when my mother died later that year. She had been suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, and spent her final few years in a nursing home. Eventually, her bodily functions started shutting down, and the medical staff advised that it was time to let her go. She fell into a coma, and my siblings and I waited by her bedside. It was very difficult to watch as her breathing became irregular and labored. We moistened her dry lips to try to keep her as comfortable as possible. She would stop breathing for quite long periods, and then would take a very deep breath. At one point, she suddenly sat bolt upright with her eyes wide open, and appeared very agitated. I painfully urged her to let go. I think that at the end, in spite of her having clung to religion for comfort over virtually her entire life, she was afraid to die. She had once told me that as a child she was very frightened at the prospect of dying and had resolved that, when it came time for her to face the end of her mortal existence, she would simply refuse to close her eyes. Finally her breathing stopped and didn’t start again. I broke down sobbing. My son comforted me with the words, “The Universe loves you, dad”.
While driving to my niece’s house in the country for a family gathering on the eve of my mother’s funeral, we were treated to the sight of a magnificent meteorite which streaked across half of the sky and disappeared beyond the horizon. It was the largest and brightest such display any of us had ever witnessed. My first thought was that it was a sign from the heavens in honor of the memory of my mother. The Divine sees the big picture.
In 2008, I began experiencing severe discomfort in the left side of my lower back. Getting out of bed in the morning became increasingly difficult. I visited the local clinic where I was prescribed a strong painkiller (which I was reluctant to take), and an X-ray was taken. I was told that my family doctor would call me later if anything potentially serious was found. The next day the pain was so bad that I had to roll out of bed onto the floor before struggling to stand upright. I had never before visited a chiropractor but decided I had nothing to lose. My wife drove me. The chiropractor examined me and concluded that I was suffering from “sacroiliac joint dysfunction” of unknown cause. He recommended that I return for regular treatments. When I told him that I had had a cancerous polyp removed from the lower left part of my colon the previous year, and that an X-ray had recently been taken, he seemed concerned and offered to call the clinic later that afternoon to inquire about the results. I accepted his offer with gratitude. That evening, he called me at home and told me that nothing out of the ordinary had shown up on the X-ray. This was a considerable relief. Nonetheless, the pain continued to worsen, and began to bother me even when I lay flat on my back, so that I started to lose sleep.
My wife and I had planned to drive from our home in northern Ontario to Calgary, Alberta, where we were to greet four relatives on my wife’s side, including her sister and brother, who were to fly in from France. The trip would also give us the opportunity to visit with our elder daughter in Calgary and our elder son in Vancouver. We would then take nearly two weeks exploring Alberta and British Columbia, camping most nights, before driving together back across the prairies to Ontario. Our relatives were to spend a few restful days visiting with us at our home before boarding their return flight to Paris. This had been the plan. My relatives had purchased their airline tickets, and my wife had developed the itinerary, including booking of campgrounds (this was peak tourist season in the Rockies) and the occasional chalet and hotel room.
But how could I possibly go? I couldn’t sit for any length of time, and even with a back brace, I had great difficulty walking and could only take tiny, shuffling steps. In general, I have always enjoyed driving, and had planned to drive virtually the entire distance (which my wife is quite happy to let me do, provided I am not feeling over-tired). Driving was now completely out of the question.
The morning of our scheduled departure, I lay in bed and contemplated staying at home. My wife, naturally, had resolved to drive by herself to Calgary, if necessary. As I thought about this, I realized that I simply could not let her go alone. Not only was she not accustomed to driving such long distances, I knew that she would be concerned about me and would have difficulty enjoying this long-planned vacation with her French family. And so I popped a painkiller, struggled out of bed, and packed a suitcase, with assistance from my wife. She arranged some pillows in the back seat of the van, and I tried to get as comfortable as possible while still keeping my seat belt attached. Off we went. However, it was not long before the pain had me second guessing my decision to come along. I considered catching a flight back home from the nearest airport, but that would mean sitting upright in the confines of a plane, which also seemed out of the question.
In our hotel that night, I barely slept. My attempts to get out of bed the next morning were met with excruciating pain. I had to roll sideways and slide off the bed onto the floor, before slowly and carefully grabbing onto furniture and pulling myself to a standing position. Once upright, however, I felt better, and managed to take a shower. My wife helped me get dressed, and we had some breakfast before setting out again.
Lying across the back seat of our van, I knew I was in need of Divine intervention. I prayed. At the next rest stop, I slid out of the van and stood upright, and immediately knew that something was different. Hesitatingly, I took a slightly larger step than I had been reduced to taking during the previous few weeks, but instead of pain, I experienced a tingling sensation at the base of my spine, like a mild electric shock. I took another, slightly larger step, and again there was a tingling sensation. This continued during the course of several consecutive larger steps until I could walk more or less normally. I was dumbfounded, and I was also extremely grateful. My prayer had evidently been answered.
When we got back into the van, I was able to sit upright with virtually no discomfort. We continued on across the prairies, and stopped for the night at a motel called (fittingly, I thought) the Pilgrim Inn. Lying in bed that evening, there was no pain. In its place, I felt the familiar extremely pleasurable stirrings of Kundalini. My sleep was positively blissful, and breakfast the next morning was thoroughly enjoyable. I decided that I felt well enough to drive, and so I did. I had to be careful to avoid sudden movement, however, and I wore a back brace for several more days. But suffice it to state that we had a wonderful vacation, and I have not suffered any recurrence of the back pain.
However, my brush with cancer and the manner of my mother’s passing continued to weigh heavily on me. I quite looked forward to a glass of wine to “relax and unwind” after work, and another with dinner. Finally, one day in late 2009, I came to acknowledge that, in spite of all I had been through and all I had learned, I myself did not feel ready to die – I was not “prepared to meet my maker”. I was concerned that I had too much “ego”, and I became determined to get rid of it. I now understand that ridding oneself of one's ego is impossible (for the ego cannot dissolve itself), and any such attempt is doomed to failure and is potentially dangerous. But that was my firm resolve at the time. And so I began to meditate in earnest. I went deep within myself, intent on rooting out the remaining memories and emotions that I believed were keeping me from realizing my real identity. However, for me, going within has also meant depression. My appetite dwindled, and I had great difficulty sleeping. When I did manage to sleep a little, I had disturbing dreams.
It was a real struggle to try to remain positive, and eventually I became so tired of the battle I was waging with myself that I knew I needed to find comfort and solace in whatever way I could. In my book, I describe my previous spontaneous experiences with Kundalini, and how they were always powerful healing events for me. I decided that I needed (and indeed deserved) to once again feel the pleasure at the base of my spine. And so, that night, I went even further within, and I entered a great and very still void. From within this void, I gave myself permission to feel the exquisitely soothing pleasure. It began immediately, and it was indeed a welcome respite from my struggles. However, I had the sense to know that I wasn’t ready for anything more, and I purposefully shut if off after only a few moments of enjoyment.
Although it was a revelation to discover that I apparently had a degree of conscious control over this spiritual energy, I continued to slip deeper into depression. I was very concerned about the stress I was causing my family, and suicidal thoughts that I hoped had been put to rest many years prior re-emerged. Finally, I became so distraught that I told my wife that perhaps I should go out into the forest and just shoot myself (essentially echoing the fate of my younger sister 24 years earlier). I recall my wife crying out and collapsing onto our bed, holding her chest. She told me later that she had actually (and understandably) been very angry with me.
I managed to regain some composure and told her I needed to go for a drive. She was too upset to accompany me so I drove off by myself. However, my mind was in utter turmoil. The thought occurred to me that the experience of Kundalini I had brought upon myself was an act of the ego, rather than of Spirit, and that all of my previous spiritual experiences had been contaminated and were somehow fake and meaningless. Indeed, it seemed as if my entire struggle over the past 29 years had been some sort of cruel joke. My heart sank so far it felt like it had dropped out of my body.
This was January, in northern Ontario, and I decided I would drive into the wilderness until my gas tank ran dry, and then walk into the bush, lie down, and freeze to death. I drove for several miles, feeling absolutely hopeless. I didn’t really want to die, but how could I continue living? And then, suddenly, I knew the truth, as sure as sure can be. It was indeed Spirit, and not ego, that was responsible for my recent Kundalini experience. Spirit had been in control all along. There was still hope! I grasped at this revelation, and immediately decided to drive myself straight to the hospital, about an hour away.
The drive seemed to take a very long time, and I was very concerned that I might change my mind and turn around. But I didn’t. Upon arrival at the hospital, I called my wife and told her where I was and that I was feeling much better. She expressed relief. When I described my situation to the emergency room physician, he immediately admitted me to the psychiatric ward. I had to spend two days and nights in the hallway waiting for a bed to become available, but this was mostly a peaceful time for me. I was comforted by the thought that I would receive the rest and help I needed.
After being assigned a room, I decided to be as sociable as possible with my fellow patients. One attractive female patient who appeared to be about my age sat down at my table. I asked her name, and was surprised by the answer, for she had the same uncommon first name as my first love, to whom I had not even spoken since high school. As described in my book, I fell for a girl in early public school (initially in response to her encouragement), but although my feelings for her continued and even intensified right through university, they were essentially unrequited. Intrigued, I asked her what her surname was, and she confirmed her identity.
I nearly fell out of my chair. I had experienced synchronicity many times, but this was certainly a particularly powerful example. I knew without a doubt that the powers of the Universe had conspired to bring this encounter about. Feeling I had nothing to lose, and no reputation to defend, I proceeded to describe to the others at our table how I had been so head over heels for this girl (henceforth referred to as “Y”), but how, ultimately, I had been rejected. Immediately, Y stated that she had never rejected me, but that she had always been competitive and had felt intimidated by my intelligence. I protested, explaining that the reason for my success in school was based more on my fear of failure and rejection than on any superior intelligence.
Anyway, so began anew a relationship that continued via e-mail (with me in France and Y in Canada) for some time. For a while, I wondered if the Universe might have more in store regarding the two of us. My wife was naturally somewhat concerned that Y and I were in the hospital at the same time. She later told me that she had also wondered about the purpose of this encounter. I love my wife, and certainly did not want to hurt her. However, I felt that it was important that I be open and honest about my feelings, knowing full well from experience that denial of feelings created more difficulties than it might appear to solve. Therefore, I let myself feel. My childhood hopes for requited love were reflected in my dreams. But I came to understand that this part of me was living in the past, and did not fit with the reality of the present. Both Y and I are now different people. From my current perspective, it seems that the purpose of my meeting Y in the hospital was two-fold: to give me further proof of the divine intelligence of the Universe, and to help heal my original ego wound. I am deeply grateful. In any case, there is no denying that my feelings for Y helped shape who I am today, and I will always cherish our friendship.
The reason that Y had admitted herself to hospital, shortly before my arrival, was related to a failed marriage. Upon discovering that her former husband had apparently abused their daughter, she had become extremely angry and depressed, and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.
My psychiatrist listened to my story. She concluded that I was likely suffering from some type of bipolar disorder, which had first made itself evident following the birth of my first son (as described in my book). However, she also stated that my case was certainly unusual and atypical. I was prescribed a sedative and an antidepressant.
My hospital stay lasted about two weeks. At one point, an elderly female patient divulged to me that Y had asked her whether God would be upset if she fell in love with a married man. The possibility that my first love could actually love me back made my heart beat faster. Prior to my voluntary discharge, a few days following Y’s departure, my psychiatrist told me that there had been rumors regarding a developing romantic relationship. I was advised not to pursue it.
Some weeks after I had returned home, my wife and I decided to take a brief vacation in a nearby town, accompanied by our younger daughter and her friend. I had been feeling a lot of anger toward the vestiges of the demanding and judgmental male deity in my psyche. During the drive to our hotel, I allowed myself to internally verbalize this anger, knowing that the true Divine has no ego and could never be offended. Still, I spent another fitful night, managing just scant sleep. The next morning, we toured some of the local arts and crafts shops, and then it was time to grab some lunch. As usual, my mind had been quite active, but what happened next was certainly unexpected, and is difficult to describe. As if in a single thought, I saw precisely how I had created my personal reality. I completely understood that it was my thoughts and my decisions (many of which had been made in response to trauma), that had resulted in the most significant events of my life, both pleasant and unpleasant. I saw the intricate interconnections, and knew my thoughts were responsible for where I was at that moment. On a deep spiritual level, I had chosen my path. Although I knew it would include much suffering, I also knew it would benefit others. I was a divine co-creator with God.
This awareness of my personal truth was an extraordinarily magnificent experience - a gift of grace that was subsequently to prove indispensable to me. It was accompanied by a profound feeling of self-acceptance and love. However, I immediately understood that it was not something to be grasped. I knew that this realization of my own divinity was TRUTH, but that I had to let it go for now, because I was not ready to assimilate it. At the time, this having to let go did not bother me in the slightest. I was certain that it would return to me (or rather me to it), eventually, because it was real, and that was all that mattered. This realization lifted my depression immediately. I thoroughly enjoyed my meal, and then we left for home.
This feeling of well-being did not last for long. That very night, lying in bed and unable to sleep, I felt myself, almost literally it seemed, descend into a dark pit. Vainly, I grasped at the memory of my recent experience with divine thought. However, I was unable to recall how I had been able to see and understand the manner in which I had created my personal reality. It seemed impossibly complicated, and so I began to question the validity of the experience. The ego is essentially a fear monger, and I found myself battling against Illogical and paranoid ideas. In particular, the fear arose that my reality was entirely limited to me, that I had somehow created everything and everyone in it, and that therefore my struggles, and indeed my entire existence, were meaningless. This same fear, which essentially reflects the philosophy of solipsism, had been a thorn in my side many years before. It was as if the ego were trying to tell me that the truth was actually too good to be true, because I didn’t deserve all that goodness and love. I felt terribly isolated and alone. This continued for several weeks.
In the midst of this darkness, I received a very welcome glimpse of reality. A replacement window that I had planned to install in our house laid leaning against the basement wall. One day, while trying to distract myself in the basement, I happened to glance at this window and suddenly felt suffused with love at the simple idea of installing it. When I climbed the stairs and entered the kitchen, I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that I was not alone. This was an incredibly welcome relief.
Alas, my dark mood again returned with a vengeance. I began to fear that I could eventually cause harm to myself, or perhaps even turn against my family, if my situation didn’t improve. These fears fed my downward spiral. Finally, I called my psychiatrist, and she advised me to return to the relatively safe environment of the hospital. My brother kindly drove me. I was extremely disillusioned and disheartened at having felt the need to re-enter the hospital.
At one point, while lying in my hospital bed, I felt so fed up and so unloved and unlovable that the notion that I might end my existence in some tragically vengeful manner entered my mind. This really frightened me. Thankfully, my deeper knowledge of the innate beauty and goodness of existence and of my own being, as well as the idea that perhaps I had something important to say, that I had a light at my core that needed to shine, was stronger than my wounded ego. I soon found myself wanting to leave. I discharged myself after a few days, determined to do whatever it took to get to the root of my problem.
The fact that some persons do choose to use violence as a way of seeking revenge and/or notoriety continued to cause me considerable distress. My wife has remarked that I have an insatiable need to understand and discover the truth. If others had succumbed to the lies of the ego, what was stopping me from doing the same? After all, we are all created equal, and I believe we remain equal. But how was true self-acceptance, let alone self-love, possible in the face of any potential for violence? I think I now understand why some deeply wounded persons, full of anger and self-hatred, might seek revenge and attention through acts of violence. They don’t realize that they are responding through their false and impermanent self, the ego. It’s like they’re saying, “You’ve taught me that I’m bad – I’ll show you bad”. Their innate beauty and goodness, which is eternal, has gone unrecognized by their significant others, and indeed by society as a whole, and therefore they are unable to recognize it in themselves. This is where our so-called justice system has gotten it sadly wrong. Criminals can never be truly reformed until they come to realize the truth of their innate goodness, because no one who knows who he/she really is could ever intentionally cause harm. We are created in the image of the Divine, and our true identity is the same as God’s, which is love. The root cause of “evil” is Ignorance, but the truth makes us free.
I think there are those who seem rather self-satisfied when others commit crimes, because they can then say to themselves: “I’m better than you”. These are often the same people whose motivation for abstaining from doing “evil” is fear of God’s judgment and spending an eternity in hell. All fear originates in the ego. If such persons really knew who they themselves are, they would also know who the criminals really are, and they would feel compassion rather than disdain and judgment. When we know ourselves, we do not require any external motivation to pursue goodness, for our true nature, the nature of Spirit, is love. Fear of being judged, as well as a need to judge others and feel superior, is rooted in the ego that is unable to see the truth that we are all equally divine beings. The Ten Commandments are unnecessary for those who know who they are.
I often slept (I use the term loosely) in an outbuilding (equipped with bunk beds and a washroom) so that my wife could sleep more peacefully. One snowy evening, I felt a need for an even greater separation from my family, and so I drove to our cottage, accompanied by our dog. After lighting the wood stove for warmth, I lay on the bed in the dark and allowed myself to feel a quite extraordinary pain – the pain of completely acknowledging that my mother had not loved me for simply being me – her son. I had subconsciously recognized this from an early age and had struggled throughout my childhood to earn her love, with devastating consequences to my psyche. The pain that this brought was excruciating, and I sobbed and moaned uncontrollably. As a child, I could not allow myself to feel it, because it could literally have killed me. Now, as an adult, the pain itself could no longer kill me, but still I did not know how I could possibly deal with it. I simply did not have the resources.
Suddenly I experienced another completely unexpected miracle. I heard two very distinct sharp knocks, like a fist on a door, coming from thin air directly in front of my face – “knock, knock”. Let me state here unequivocally that this was not a hallucination, which is a creation of the ego that is typically associated with fear. I knew right away that it wasn’t an ego “joke”. Rather, it was perhaps the most serious, and most loving, event I had ever witnessed. It would be difficult for me to overstate its significance. What sprang immediately to mind was the Bible verse, “Knock, and it shall be opened to you”, and I responded desperately by mentally returning the knock. I lay awake pondering this event for the rest of the night, and drove home the next morning, still feeling rather down, but with a renewed sense of hope and determination.
Seven years have passed, and I have been living in France, essentially medication-free (other than a glass of wine at dinner) with my wife for the past six of them. As described in my book, there have been some brief depressive episodes, which ended as soon as I learned what I needed to learn, and I continue to deal with some social anxiety. Above all, however, I am grateful for the miracle of Jesus’ knocking on my door. The real meaning, I am now convinced, is found in a different Bible passage (Revelation 3:20): “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my knock, and opens the door, I will come in and sup with him, and he with me”. This knock was my personal proof of the validity of Jesus, and of my own journey. The timing of the knock, I believe, was a message that Jesus knew the depths of my desperation, because he had been there. I believe that Jesus struggled, as many of us do, to undo the damage caused by his caregivers, and bring his innocent, loving and lovable inner child back to life to once again experience real joy on this earth. He discovered the truth about his own divine birthright, and he wanted others to discover this same truth about themselves, and to live it. He said, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven”. He also told his disciples, “Let the little children come unto me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven”. I believe the real message behind the words “I am the way, the truth and the life - No one comes to the Father but by me” is not that we must accept Jesus' crucifixion as payment for our sins, demanded by a deity whose love is conditional in order to gain entry to heaven after death, but that we are to do as Jesus did – we are to imitate him in order to liberate our own divine inner child and find heaven on earth. The conditions are not yet right in me for the complete expression of my inner child, but I am very hopeful.
I have kept a dream journal and flashlight by my bedside for many, many years. Dreams are reflections of our subconscious, our inner self, and can tell us things that are hidden from the conscious ego. In my book, I talk a lot about the personal meaning of dreams. Some dreams are more significant than others. There are dreams that make no obvious sense, and then there are “big” dreams that seem to impart knowledge from beyond, from “cosmic consciousness” perhaps. I have had many dreams of being lost, or confused, or not being good enough, but I have not had a single dream in which I have made any attempt, or had any desire, to hurt another (other than in self-defense, and I have not had this type of self-defense dream in years). On the other hand, I have had several dreams in which I have felt deep compassion for other innocent persons who have been mortally wounded. This has helped reinforce my conviction that, contrary to what I was taught and swallowed (hook, line and sinker) as a child (i.e., that I was “by nature sinful and unclean”), I am innately good; as are you - as is the worst criminal, including Hitler and other mass murderers. The cause of all criminality is an absence of true self-love. It is as the Buddha said, “Whoever truly loves himself can never harm another”. I am not speaking here of narcissism. Indeed, narcissistic persons lack true self-love. The self-love that I am speaking about is the self-love we are born with, which is our natural condition in the absence of learned self-rejection. It is complete acceptance of who we really are, at our core, with no need for any sort of external validation. It is being at home in our own skin. When we truly love ourselves, we don’t need to look good (either to others or in a mirror) in order to feel good.
Jesus lived his life on this earth expressing his divinity, which is also our true nature. He did die on the cross, but yet he lives, and he is, in a real sense, my savior, just not in the manner taught by traditional Christianity. Jesus demonstrated “the way, and the truth, and the life”, and he remains available to guide us. I am reminded of a dream I had shortly after my panic attacks started over 30 years ago. I was “swimming” in dense fog, feeling completely lost. Then I noticed a light on the distant horizon, and I started to swim desperately toward it, but I seemed to be making very little headway. However, I wasn’t alone – there was a figure alongside me, trying to guide me to the light. I believe this was Jesus, who has always been with me. Had he not knocked on my door that cold spring night in 2010, the past few years would certainly have been far more difficult, perhaps unbearably so. I have received an enormous amount of reassurance from that fully loving act, and I am truly grateful.
Jesus is there to guide us, if we let him. But we have to do the work, just as he did. We are urged to “take up our cross” and follow him as his disciples. We have to be willing to sacrifice our ego to the goal of Spirit. This process can be very frightening, because the ego fears death and believes (wrongly) that we are not good, but in fact the process is a return to a recognition of our innate innocence and goodness. It is a return to love and joy. If we are sincere in our quest, and are prepared to relinquish all that the ego holds dear, we will be given the necessary guidance and support. Indeed, if our intentions are truly in the service of Spirit, we may even be given the power to perform miracles. Jesus said, “Whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father”. The divine universal force of which we are all a part (call it God, Divine Intelligence, Cosmic Consciousness, or whatever you are comfortable with), sets the stage, and we become the delivery vehicle for the miracle.
For those who are interested in finding out more about the real Jesus, I recommend reading up on the so-called Gnostic gospels, which were rejected for inclusion in the Bible at the Council of Nicea in A.D. 323. The exclusion of these books was a political decision, meant to strengthen the power-structured male dominated Church hierarchy and entrench patriarchal dogma into the teachings of the Church. One of the first (and, in my opinion, best) books on this subject is Elaine Pagels’ “The Gnostic Gospels”. I am most fascinated by the Gospel of Thomas. This has been called a “roadmap to enlightenment”. Sayings attributed to Jesus by the Gospel of Thomas that are particularly meaningful to me include: “My mother gave me falsehood, but my true Mother gave me life”, “Blessed are they who have been persecuted within themselves. It is they who have truly come to know the Father” and “Blessed is the man who has suffered and found life”. However, as with virtually all “spiritual” books (including the Bible), aspects that reflect the personal views of the writer, views distorted by the ego and therefore not representing ultimate truth, are found within the Gospel of Thomas. Sayings that I would place into this group include, "Every woman who will make herself male will enter the Kingdom of heaven". Jesus was actually a feminist, who had a special relationship with a female disciple named Mary Magdalene (see both the Gospel of Philip and the Gospel of Mary Magdalene for more on this relationship).
Jesus, I am convinced, never intended to found a new religion, with its own rules, creeds and hierarchy. Religions are power structures that try to convince us that we must look outside of ourselves for the answers to life’s most important questions, when in fact the answers are within. Jesus came to show us the way back to true selves, wherein lies our joy. He said “The kingdom of God is within you”. He also said, “These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full”. He never claimed that he was God’s sacrifice for our sins, and he certainly would not be pleased with some of what is being preached in fundamentalist “Christian” churches in his name. These churches teach that, in order to avoid God’s judgment that would otherwise cast us into hell, we must believe that Jesus died for our sins and accept him, and him alone, as our savior. This is a false, fear-based teaching. What Jesus actually taught is that, in order to be truly saved (i.e., from our own egos), we must come to know who we really are - innocent and loving children of the Universe, and part and parcel of the Divine. We must forgive all, and love everyone, unconditionally, beginning with ourselves. We must care for those who are less fortunate than ourselves, and that means sharing our wealth. We must treat others as our equals. And we will do these things, when we realize that in doing them, we are expressing our true selves. Anything done as an expression of who we really are will bring joy to all concerned. If we find that doing these things does not bring us joy, it may be better to not attempt to do them at all. I subscribe to daily inspirational e-mails called “Tut – A Note from the Universe” (www.tut.com), and this is a recent message: “Robert, be on guard against those who help others in the name of sacrifice, selflessness, or altruism, instead of in the name of joy. Because usually, they don't really help all that much.”
Some time ago, I dreamed that I encountered two strangers, who directed me to enter the basement of the home of my childhood friend, where I would receive a special gift. As a child, I spent many happy hours with this friend and his family. In particular, I had appreciated the affection displayed by his mother. Nevertheless, in my dream, I was apprehensive going down the stairs, because the basement was very dark and I had no idea what I might find there. As I descended, I noticed a small shadowy figure in the corner of the room. My apprehension grew as I approached cautiously for a closer look. The figure turned to face me, and I was amazed to discover that I was staring at myself, as a little boy of about three years of age. I immediately felt a very deep love for this little boy, and lifted him in my arms. I asked him if he knew who I was, and he replied, “You’re my daddy”. Feeling a tremendous sense of responsibility for his well-being, I asked if he was okay, and he said that he was fine. However, I knew I could not hold him for long. I told him that I hoped to see him again soon, and gently placed him on the floor. When I did so, he went limp like a rag doll. I awakened, and marveled at the depth of my love for my inner child. Although it is not a feeling I am yet able to maintain on a continuous or even regular basis, I know that this child is my divinity. In order to rediscover the kingdom of heaven within us (heaven on earth), we must let our inner child live through us.
Later, I dreamed that I had a revelation concerning my father’s feelings about me when I was an infant. In my dream, I realized that my father had harbored a death wish for me, apparently related to jealousy regarding attention from my mother. This realization shocked me awake. I love my father – he did the best he could. He was an honest man, but he suffered from low self-esteem and could get extremely angry, especially if he had been drinking. I, more so than any of my siblings, bore the brunt of his anger. I had no idea of the degree to which the physical abuse I had experienced had affected my psyche until I self-compassionately gave myself permission to express and release the anguish some 20 years ago. This was the single most cathartic event of my life. When I later confronted my father with the fact that he had hurt me terribly, he made no attempt to make excuses, and simply said he was sorry. I was not able to be at his bedside when he died, but it was a quick and peaceful passing. At his funeral, I gave a brief eulogy during which I stated that I believed that my father finally knew what he was made of, and it was love – boundless, unconditional love. Subsequently, I dreamed that he was being carried along in a procession on the shoulders of several men, and a choir was singing in his honor.
I used to have frequent nightmares of being stalked and threatened by bears. As a child, I developed a fear of bears, likely due mainly to a couple of incidents that occurred at our summer cottage, which are described in my book. I have read that bears in dreams can symbolize the mother and/or family in general. The bad dreams continued up until about two years ago, when I dreamed that I encountered a very large female bear. For the first time, I was not frightened, but rather I felt a surge of love for this creature. It was like the bear and I were old, dear friends. I thought perhaps that signaled the end of my scary bear dreams, but recently I again dreamed that I was being threatened by a large bear, and I cried out for help (perhaps explainable by my having just watched The Revenant). I also dreamed that I witnessed, from a distance, my wife being chased by a large polar bear, which was itself being chased by several dogs. Seeing my wife in what I perceived to be mortal danger shocked and frightened me greatly, to the point that I cried out loud and awakened both my wife and me. This dream is awaiting interpretation.
Several years ago, I dreamed that my older sister was chasing another vehicle in which her grandchildren were being held against their will, and were at risk of severe harm. I watched as she pulled up beside the driver of the vehicle she was chasing, who then drew a gun and aimed it at her. I feared for her life, and decided I had to take action. Looking around for some sort of shield, I located what resembled a metal garbage can lid. I held this in front of me and charged, shouting, at the man with the gun, intending to wrest the weapon from him. Then I awakened.
In my experience, emotionally-powerful dreams like this are meaningful, and so I told my sister about it. A few weeks later, I received the awful news that my niece, who was my sister’s eldest child, had died of an apparent overdose of narcotics. Her marriage had already become a victim of her struggles with addiction, and now her two young children were innocent victims as well. My wife and I flew back to Canada to support my sister and the rest of her family at this very difficult time. During our conversations, my sister told me that, when she herself had heard the terrible news, she thought of my dream warning.
Although I was not faced with the terrible trauma of having lost a child, this was nonetheless a very difficult time for me. I again had trouble sleeping and experienced quite rapid mood swings. At times, I feared my own thoughts and worried that I was a bad person. At other times, I felt loving and hopeful. I had battled through several bouts of depression in the past, and was comforted by remembering that I had always come out of it spiritually stronger than before. I knew it had a purpose.
Still, in the midst of this struggle, I had an extremely disturbing dream. There was a fence around me, protecting me from potential intruders who were seeking to gain entry. I felt very threatened, and desperately went around the perimeter seeking to ensure that all entry points were securely closed. In spite of my best efforts, I apparently made a “silly” oversight and the unwanted persons gained entry. They proceeded to castigate me for my carelessness, and I was certain that the consequences of my carelessness would be my own death. Feeling enormously disheartened and without hope, I awakened. I initially interpreted the dream as telling me that I had indeed made some sort of fatal mistake during my spiritual quest for wholeness. I felt so desperate that I immediately woke my wife in order to talk things through with her. As she has done many times in the past, she reassured me that it was just a dream that reflected a fear in my ego. It is impossible for the ego to make any sort of mistake that could permanently separate oneself from one’s true divine identity. The intruders were of my own creation, and I could learn from this dream and grow spiritually as a result.
I think that this dream was telling me that I had been trying too hard and was becoming too rigid in my pursuit of my true self. It was a case of the ego trying to use itself to find Spirit. In fact, Spirit cannot be found by the ego. Love is our true identity, and it is this identity that surfaces when ego is seen for the illusion that it is and dissipates.
Although I knew this to be true, the impact of the dream remained with me for some time, and the fear that I might never succeed in finding the “pearl of great price” occasionally resurfaced. Four memories of events that I have previously described helped ground me by reminding me of who I really am, a completely loving and lovable divine being. The first was the realization that we are all powerful co-creators of our personal reality, the second was my dream of the loving encounter with my inner child in the basement of my childhood friend’s home, the third was my dream of risking my life to try to save my sister and her grandchildren, and the fourth was my hearing, while in a fully awake state, the Spirit of Jesus lovingly knocking at my door.
Compassion is a very important part of love, and that includes self-compassion. As Buddha said, “Unless your compassion includes yourself, it is incomplete”. For me, self-compassion has been crucial. We are self-compassionate when we finally acknowledge our childhood wounds, and that we did not deserve to have been hurt like that. We allow ourselves to grieve the pain of the past. This is instrumental in releasing the self-rejection that has been trapped for so long within us and that has affected our ability to live happily as adults. We are finally freed to love ourselves in the present. This is distinguished from self-pity, which keeps us focused on our present suffering, and does nothing to release the original cause of the pain.
As a result of having acknowledged and grieved my own childhood wounds, I am able to feel compassion for the suffering of my fellow human beings. This includes not only the obviously innocent, such as young children exposed to physical, sexual or emotional abuse, but also the adults who, as a consequence of such abuse in childhood, have lost contact with their true selves and end up hurting themselves or others. No one is born into this world with the intention to cause harm. Unfortunately, abused children are robbed of their ability to love and to trust in the Universe, which is the source of joy. I think this is the greatest tragedy in the world today, and is the cause of virtually all conflict. This is what Jesus was referring to when he spoke harsh words to this effect, “If any man would cause one of these little ones to stray, it would be better for him if a millstone had been tied around his neck and he was cast into the sea”.
I believe that we all came into this world with an innate sense of our own magnificence and divinity – we were not born “humble”. One of the Psalms says, “You are gods, and all of you are children of the most high”. Jesus referred to this passage when his claims to divinity were challenged by his own people, answering “Is it not written in your law, ‘I said, you are gods’? “ Why should a child of God, part and parcel of the very force that created the universe, be humble? We certainly have reason to be thankful, but any humility would be false humility. On the other hand, I am not saying we should be proud. Pride inflates the ego through comparison with others. We are equally magnificent beings. Unfortunately, many caregivers, and society as a whole, are determined to “put children in their place”, and any attempts by children to express their true identity are largely met with scorn and derision or more serious forms of abuse. Children are regularly taught that they must both worship and fear God, as if God commands this of them. This distorts the image of the Divine within the child. God is infinitely gentle and entirely loving, and does not have an ego that wants to be either feared or worshiped, any more than Jesus wants to be feared or worshiped. God’s will, above all else, is our well-being. If it is important to our happiness that we worship God, then that would be what God wants, but it is not required of us. God wants us to know and enjoy his/her closeness. Do loving parents want their children to worship them? Recognizing the goodness of God, in whose image we are created, and enjoying the gift of life, naturally leads us to love and appreciate God. Gratitude is a key to happiness.
Children raised in a fundamentalist environment are exposed to the false doctrine of “original sin”, which teaches them that they are born “sinful and unclean”. They are taught that they must believe certain things and act certain ways or they will be judged and condemned by God. Fear is instilled in their vulnerable hearts through teaching them that there is an evil creature called the devil that wants to steal their souls away. This is horrendous religious abuse. Any judgment we imagine that God might pass on us or others is a reflection of the fear in our own ego. Would loving parents allow their children to be condemned to everlasting torment in hell? The intent may be to stop children from “getting too big for their britches”, but the result is low self-esteem, indeed even self-hatred. This self-rejection can manifest in physical and/or psychological illness, possibly leading to anti-social behavior and criminality. As Anita Moorjani describes in her fascinating book “Dying to be Me”, it was her deathbed realization of her own power and magnificence that allowed her to heal from terminal cancer. She has made it her mission to help others understand the importance of unconditional self-love above all else. Learning to love others begins with learning to love ourselves.
I also feel increased compassion for animals. Not long ago, we rescued a fledgling chimney sweep that had evidently fallen from the roof of a house and landed on the sidewalk, unable to fly. We could not return it to its nest, so we brought it home, in the hope of nurturing it long enough for it to take flight (chimney sweeps spend virtually their entire adult lives in the air, except when nesting). We prepared a small shelter that provided protection from potential predators and the elements, and gave “little George” food and water, based on recommendations we found online. He seemed to be thriving. However, on the morning of the third day, we found him dead. I was surprised by the depth of my grief, and how badly I had wanted him to live and experience the joy of flight.
A short time later, I spotted a small rat in our compost. Without much thought, I put some commercial product containing rat poison in a bowl and placed it in the compost container. When I went to deposit some leftovers into the compost a few days later, the rat was crawling along the ground, clearly suffering. I felt awful. I couldn’t bring myself to dispatch the poor creature, and decided instead to provide it with water in the slim hope that it might recover. The next day, it was dead. I will never again try to poison one of God’s creatures.
Recently, I dreamed that I was sharing some laughs with my brother and a family friend. It started out with the friend recounting how his own father (deceased) had had a self-deprecating sense of humor. He used to say, for example, that his need for an alarm clock to tell him when it was time to get up was even greater than for those who were obviously mentally-challenged. I commented that “at least he didn’t say he felt like shit”. This struck me as quite amusing, and was apparently even funnier to an older woman who was passing by and overheard my comment and laughed out loud. (To add some perspective, one of the first things a psychiatrist told me over 30 years ago, when I was searching for relief from panic attacks, was that I thought I was shit.) Then, as my dream continued, my brother said something that made me laugh, but I don’t recall what it was. What I do remember is that my laugh sounded like a dog’s bark, and hearing my own funny laugh made me laugh even harder, to the point that I was crying from laughter. I tried to say, “I sound like Cindy” (Cindy was the family dog when my brother and I were children), but I was laughing so hard I couldn’t even get the words out. I awakened knowing that the joy of laughing at yourself because nothing can take away from who you really are is a great way to start the day!
Most recently, I dreamed that I was standing at an open doorway peering into a very dark house, trying to decide whether or not to enter. I was afraid of what might lie in wait for me. I thought about the possibility of being ambushed and maybe even killed. But then I reminded myself what my past experiences had shown me – that I was safe and loved in the Universe, and that whatever might happen to me would be based on love. So I mustered up the courage to proceed, and walked slowly into the darkness. I was relieved when nothing attacked me, and I sat down on a couch and began to watch a game show on TV. However, I was still apprehensive that someone or something might sneak up behind me. And indeed someone did come up behind me, but rather than being harmed in any way, I felt a gentle hand stroking my hair and a gentle kiss being placed on the back of my neck. I turned my head and saw my mother. Then I awoke.
The Universe is a determined teacher, and relentlessly leads us to the realization of our true identity. Love is behind everything, even those circumstances and events that seem to hurt us. When we understand that, our resistance softens and our suffering is eased.