What A Course In Miracles is NOT

This is a very important clarification that needs to be made. A Course in Miracles is not for everyone. Yes, it can be applied by anyone, but not everyone will be drawn to it. ACIM is only for those people who are drawn to it, read it, actualize its principles in their lives and believe it is the “path” for them. The Course is very straight forward about this. It says it is only one form of the universal course all must take. The Course is not competitive with any other system! It is not “evangelical.” It is not trying to proselytize!!

In the early days Dr. Ken Wapnick, jokingly described the Course as a path for intellectuals! (“We intellectuals need a system too!”) While it is true that the Course is very challenging and might appeal to intellectuals, it is truly for everyone who feels drawn to it.

So if you are a Christian of any denomination and you are learning to love God and love your neighbor as yourself, then that path is working for you. Why would you wanted to change? If you are a Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim, and you are learning that lesson, then your path is working for you. If you are a theosophist, spiritualist, or new ager and you are learning this lesson then that path is working for you.

The universal course we all must take is designed to do just that; to love God with all your heart, soul and mind and your neighbor as yourself. The problems come in when these religious forms no longer teach the universal course but instead have gotten off message. Some religions have become Imperial while others have become corporations with corporate motives. The old religious forms of the world have frequently failed today to teach the universal course. Many of the New Age religious forms have much to offer but one is left feeling like the universal course is like a needle in the hay stack of embellished new age forms. The truth is hiding so deeply in the forms that it is very difficult to find. Still if you are learning to love God fully and your neighbor as yourself, that system is working for you.

In the early days, one of the ACIM enthusiasts wanted to put a copy of ACIM in every hotel room along with the Gideon Bible!!! Thankfully we didn’t do that.

Most often, the people drawn to ACIM are people for whom religion is not working. They may be disaffected Christians, or people eager to explore spiritually. In any case, if ACIM is your practice you need to live by its modest requests that you do not act superior to your brothers in other religions, but accept them as parts of God just as you are. The terminology, metaphysics and psychology of ACIM are highly advanced and we need to be kind towards our brothers by not insisting on our terminology but instead look inside to the truth within the form.

Unfortunately ACIM has now surpassed even early Christianity in its early divisions, sects, and quarrels. It is saddening to see the innate tendency in people to divide and attack. The two Lighthouses to steer by are The Foundation for Inner Peace and The Foundation for A Course in Miracles, both in California.

The Course is given to those drawn to it, and to them it is truly “The Thoughts of God” and a Gift to His son.

The Myth of Ascension Dec.21st, 2012 and The Mistake of the Futurists!

The Myth of Ascension and The Mistake of the Futurists!

This article will probably make you mad but it needs to be written. In the last half of the twentieth century until today we Western humans have been busy re-mythologizing our religious myths we inherited from traditional Christianity. A myth is a story which is supposed to express something deep that otherwise is inexpressible. The old traditional myth of Christianity said that there would come an “end times,” and the “elect” (the Chosen Ones) would be taken up into the air and join Christ, while all the other people would go through terrible events of the earth. Before the end times, the myth was that people who had accepted Jesus as their personal savior would go to heaven when they die. Of course, like most myths, the people who believe them, did not get that they are myths. They believe them literally.

When I first came to A Course In Miracles I called down to California to ACIM headquarters and got to speak to one of the “original” founders, there with Helen Schucman, the scribe of ACIM. We had a nice chat. I explained how I had a background in Christian theology but had now moved to the Course. She said something very interesting to me: “All of these Christians who think they are going to heaven when they die are going to be very surprised. If they haven’t gotten their work done, they are not going anywhere!” Now there is the truth! Hold on to that for a few moments as we look at the new myth which has replaced the Christian one. The New Age Myth which replaces the Christian one, is Ascension, especially the belief that Dec.21, 2012 is a special date when all those who have learned love will begin to ascend into a fifth dimension. Even the earth is ascending, just as the Bible promised a “new Heaven and a new Earth.” I’ve got news for you! This is just another re-packaging of the old Christian myth, and likewise, “If you haven’t done your work, you are not going anywhere!” What IS your work? It is a lot more than walking down the isle and shaking the preacher’s hand accepting Jesus as your personal savior! It is also a lot more than joining in with the New Age crowd as they talk lovely things about love and peace. OUR WORK is the nitty-gritty of relationships, our classroom in which we learn our lessons of true forgiveness. True Forgiveness means that we let things go, look past them, precisely because we know that the world is not real and nothing real has been done to you! I am interpreting the myth now using ACIM. Time is a vast illusion, so there is nothing special about Dec.21, 2012, regardless of what the Mayans believed, and we don’t really know what they believed. We are here in this classroom to learn our lessons of forgiveness, join in mind with all our brothers and awaken. This is not ascension because we have never left Heaven. We travel but in dreams while safely at home. The world is a dream and we are here to pop it and remember our true identity as the Mind of Christ, at One with God.

SO MANY PEOPLE are SO sure they know what is going to happen on Dec.21, this year! These people think God created this universe. He did not. They think the universe is evolving towards God. It is not! They think that “consciousness” is evolving! IT IS NOT! The universe is not real. It is our projection! “Consciousness” cannot evolve because it IS the ultimate illusion of separation. “Consciousness” is not real. It cannot evolve. Illusions cannot advance! WE have given ourselves the date of Dec.21, 2012 as a time WE wish to advance. The whole issue is in US because there is nothing outside of US. Many people are working like dedicated egos to help “the universe.” Illusions cannot be helped. They have to be popped! If we wish to do anything on Dec.21 and beyond we have to work inside, to get rid of the blocks to Love’s awareness, forgive the world and you will not try to change it! The Course says, “Seek not to change the world. Seek to change your mind about it instead.” All the “stuff” will happen inside of YOU!!!!!!!! That is the fallacy of the Futurists. They see the universe as real and want to help it. They don’t see that there is nothing outside of ourselves. So you think you are going to evolve into a 5th dimension do you? You are not going anywhere until you have learned all your lessons! You who still believe yourself a powerful individual (ego), are going nowhere real fast.

Trout Stories

Trout Stories

The sun was just about to go down yesterday when I reached the bird sanctuary of Burnaby Lake. The ducks and the geese were very busy gobbling up all the seeds that children, young and old, were tossing to them. The beauty of a marsh at sunset is almost heavenly. This year’s goslings and ducklings are only a week old. A dozen tiny goslings as cute and precious as new life sat on top of their mother goose, nestling inside her feathers. They gave the mother goose a blown-up look with her feathers so puffed up. Redwing blackbirds sang their handsome song and showed off their beautiful wings. This was nature’s show. Wonderfully beautiful wood ducks, prettier than any picture of them could be, and more colorful, mixed with the ubiquitous mallards. The rays of sunset on the marsh, so full of nature’s beauty, were heavenly. A photographer had his equipment set up on tripod, gazing away into the marsh. “What are you focusing on?” I asked. “A silhouette of a bird against the sun set,” he said. “This is heavenly,” I replied, with more than a little hint of awe in my voice. “It doesn’t get much better than this,” he said. I went on up to the beaver lodge. Four or more beavers were laying on their backs nibbling on something. Far off across the lake, with a telescope I saw a mother bald eagle sitting on her nest. It was a magnificent sight. It filled me with a sense of grandeur and magnificence to see this creature caring for her young. On the shimmering water, light bounced and played, color abounded and astounded. Several miles west of me, at still creek where it empties into Burnaby Lake, the beavers are thriving there as well. A few days ago I went to this little creek where before I had caught salmonids (trout and wild salmon), except this time, the beavers were so thick that I could not fish for fear of accidentally hitting one with my spinner. It was an easy choice. I set the rod down and just watched the beavers.

Nature is my truest church. The birds are the choir, and there is never a sour note. Sun, water, and life abounding are my preacher, and the sermon is never boring. How magnificent the Creator must be to design a mallard or a wood duck, a beaver, a trout, a redwing blackbird, and you and me.

Yesterday afternoon the sun was hot and the wind was in the West, so I went back to Still Creek where the plethora of Beavers had run me out the week before. This time the beavers were in the lodge and I shared the creek only with the goslings and ducklings, escorted by their parents. These BC Salmonids have seen many lures already in their young lives and they learn quickly. The poor fellow who sits there with his pole in the water, a bobber and some power bait might as well be reading War and Peace. The trout and salmon are too smart for him. What did I have in my tackle box that these BC fish had never seen? I searched through the contents and came up with a beetle spin, a small lure that we use in the Southern United States for catching blue-gill and crappie. There are definitely no blue gill in BC. Chances were pretty good the salmonids had never seen this little jewel. It has a rubber body with a tail that vibrates very fast, perturbing a lot of water, and a spinner blade that makes a lot of shine. It looks so good I would grab it if I were a trout. I made a few casts under the bridge, then across the creek, and bam—my micro ultra light rod bent like a willow switch. On ultra light gear, a small wild salmon can feel like “ole Tobe.” Salmonids definitely fight harder than bass. That will amaze an American angler, and I expect to get disputations, but I swear it is true. Bass fight hard for a minute or two and give up. Trout fight for their very lives, leaping through the air, diving, twisting.

“Just take it easy,” I said, “I’m going to let you go.” I never keep a fish and never intentionally hurt one. I am there to see the fish, admire it, get to know it a little bit, bless it, let it go, and thank God for the beautiful world He made. That is why I fish. The nice little 12 inch salmonid didn’t believe me. He wouldn’t take it easy. He was convinced that he was being abducted by aliens who would lift him up in the air and perform experiments on him! Eventually he gave up enough so that I could lift him gently out of the water and take the hook out. It is barb less, so as not to hurt the little guy and it comes out easy. Back into Still Creek he went, surely to tell tales to his friends about his abduction. Now catching a salmonid is a special experience. I don’t need to catch many to feel satisfied. It’s not like catching crappies which are so common and stupid that you have to catch thirty of them to make you feel like you’ve been fishing. Just catching one salmonid is a special event. They are like little angels in the creek. This was a small area of water and I really did not expect to catch another one after all the commotion and fracas. But two casts later—bam, the ultra light rod turned into a willow switch again and the battle was on. This beautiful little guy was about the same size and he fought no less valiantly. Salmonids believe in the fight. I believe in them. Finally a beaver poked his head above the water as he swam down the middle of the creek, just checking things out I guess. A few yards down the creek he bashed his tail against the water to let me know that I am in his backyard. Two salmonids were enough. I reeled in the spinner and just admired the redwing blackbirds in the trees.

Today I went back. Would the beetle-spin still work? Or had the two wild salmon that I had “abducted” yesterday sent out an email to all their friends in Still Creek to beware of a little swimming beetle-like thing with a shining spinner blade? Two casts. Bam. Another 11 or 12 incher. One was enough today.

The goslings and ducklings are growing but their numbers dwindle as their poor parents are unable to keep back the crows and eagles that look on them as dinner. Nature seems cruel but God is good and His creation still reflects Him. God is in everything I see because God is in me. I love Him so.

“Any luck,” the passing jogger asks of me as I stand below a little bridge with an ultra light rod and a meps spinner on the end of it? I do not answer back. I just look busy. Am I rude? Well maybe, but I don’t really want to talk to him. The fish are easily spooked, and why should I say, “Yes, this is my special spot. I come here most everyday and catch the most beautiful salmonids you ever saw.” Why should I have to say that? Fishermen don’t willingly advertise their special places where they catch fish! This is a special place. Even were there no trout I would come here to worship. Nature is a panoply of beauty.

It takes a pretty stolid heart to see a red-wing blackbird, a beaver, a wood duck, a trout, and not sense a designer, a painter for the canvas. We are part of this canvas, part of the picture, although some of us have become afflicted with madness and think ourselves at enmity with it. I come as a ritual to put myself back into the picture and feel at home with the still creek and the gentle breeze that flows through the trees and to reach out from deep inside me and embrace the One who made all things, including me. As a part of the ritual, I fish for trout. In this special place, the trout do not really mind that I catch them, though they make a good show of it!

As I cast the meps spinner across the creek and began my retrieve, bam, a wonderfully familiar feeling came into my ultra light rod. Do you know that I have never yet gotten tired of catching trout? But this fight had a different twist to it. As the trout leapt and thrashed a female Mallard duck, cackling like a madwoman from Bedlam, flew down right at me in a Kamikaze flight. I have never been dive bombed by a Mallard before. I didn’t quite know what to do. She circled around for another approach still quacking like I had her babies in my mouth. Down she came for another dive bombing. By this time, I had taken the spinner out of the little trout’s mouth and released him back into the creek. Finally she retreated, still quacking madly. Had her own baby ducklings been snatched from her by crows or eagles? That happens here. The duckling and gosling families have been getting smaller. The eagles swoop down and snatch the ducklings right from the water while the mommy and daddy Mallard can do nothing but quack in rage. My Kamikaze mother had not been able to protect her ducklings, so as my trout thrashed about in the water, she seemed ready and willing to try to save it…from me! We really are all connected in a web of life. Really! As I felt sorry for the poor mommy Mallard who had lost her ducklings, I cast the meps spinner again across to the other side of the creek.

I went to my special place yesterday afternoon to greet the salmonids again, but this time there was a disturbance in the air. Something was just not quite right. “Man was in the forest.” By the time I got to Still Creek, the reason for the disturbance was evident. “Wormers” had come!!! A species dreaded by all sport fishermen whether fly or spin artists. Wormers had come into my special place with their bobbers floating on the surface. Walking all around and over the terrain with their cell phones in hand, doing business while “fishing,” i.e. watching their bobbers! Needless to say, the bobbers were as motionless as tombstones. The trout had retreated from this barbarous encroachment. The beaver swam up the middle of the stream, dodging bobbers. At least I could admire him. But my beautiful trout were hiding. Not even my best beetle-spin could arouse one. The Wormers had brought with them a crowd. Teen-agers smoked dope and played with their pit-bulls. Wasn’t it Bambi who said to his mother, “The forest is different today?” And she responded, “Yes dear, Man was in the forest.” I know this will sound elitist and contrary to the worshipful experiences I have written about. I confess the sin. But it is highly possible to spoil nature. Mankind has been doing it exceedingly well since the industrial revolution. What about the “Wormers”? Weren’t they reaching out as best they knew how to come back into nature? Perhaps at some deep DNA level the urge to return to nature prompted them to pick up a can of worms at the gas station and head down to the creek. But they were doubtless unaware of it With their cell phones, noisy stomping, dogs and dope, they had brought the industrial world into nature. That is not at all the same thing! Man into nature equals destruction. Nature into man equals awareness….and just the little possibility that the thought of a Creator might slip into his cybernetic modern brain….
I had to get out of the house! It was a great spring/summer day and I had been working hard on the computer for days on a project. I was going computer crazy. Those little elfs (“extra low frequency signals”) coming from the computer monitor were eating into my brain. I needed a trout!!!! That is what came into my head. “I have to get out of here and go to my little creek. I need those negative ions and I need a trout.” It is quite possible that I will now have to found “trout anonymous” for people like me who are addicted to catching, looking at, admiring, holding, releasing trout! All I really needed was a little break into nature, and just one trout, just one. So I raced to my car and sped as fast as I could to my secret spot on Still Creek. A quick glance showed that nobody was there. No pain in the butt joggers, and thank god(!), no wormers, that dreaded homosapien offshoot that likes to bring their pit bulls, cell phones and marijuana down to the creek, along with an old Zebco and a can of worms! Thank god none of them were there. I had a new in-line spinner that I had great confidence in. On this warm day the trout would be in the mood to chase a bright flashing lure. My secret spot requires me to slip through some brush as quietly as possible, avoid falling into the creek, and not spook the trout. The blackberries are red now. Maybe next week when I go back they will be ripe enough for me to eat if the birds leave any for me. To be back at my spot bled out most of the tension the computer had pumped into me. On the third cast I got a strike and could see a baby trout as the culprit. He was no more than four inches long. I didn’t hook him, which is a good thing, because trout are delicate little things. Two casts later and a familiar “Bam” hit my spinner. This was a beauty! He was a good 12 inches long and shimmering beautiful in color. I enjoyed letting him fight my micro ultra-light rod with 4 pound test line. He jumped and twisted and dashed but would not give up. I got a little concerned about exhausting him in this little creek where the oxygen content is known to be dangerously low for trout, so I brought him in. I tried the old hand under the belly trick that we use to make bass relax, but it didn’t work on him. He kept jumping and twisting as I tried to get the hook, firmly set, out of his mouth. Finally I got it out and released him back into the creek, blessing him all the way. But there was a problem. He was exhausted and unable to move. I switched from fisherman to doctor as panic almost hit me. I would never want to hurt one of these little angels. I reached into the creek to get him and help him get his breath back. The creek was just too low in oxygen after such a long, hard, battle. It would be like a school kid trying to run a mile at 12,000 feet altitude! I was almost in tears to think that I might have fought this little guy so long that he might die of exhaustion! Finally though, after a little help, he slowly swam away. I breathed a sigh of relief and thought, “That’s enough for today.” All I needed was one trout, just one.
There are lessons in all of this. Trout are great for life’s lessons! This world of delicate balance requires that we deal with it gently. How easy it is to tread heavily through the earth. That is, after all, the human “disease” with nature. We want to control nature, bring the earth under subjection to us. So we gouge out huge quantities of mother earth and fill the holes with monuments to ourselves in steel and concrete. We like to “develop” the earth! That has now been shown to be a form of madness and yet the inmates are still in charge of the asylum. Any little glimmer of knowledge—let’s not even talk about enlightenment—will tell us that we must walk with a lighter tread, especially if we hope to find our own connection to nature. Don’t play the trout too long! Care more about him than you do of the thrill.
I will never forget an experience I had of taking my children fishing at a little pond. A young boy had caught a bull head catfish and was busy beating it on the head with a rock. My daughter yelled at him to stop it. We were all horrified. That little boy was playing out the game of civilization as he had been taught it: “Bring the world under subjection to you. Conquer it. Beat it. Whip it. Be the master of your fate!” In such madness, nature is the enemy and we are here to conquer it…or develop it for a profit. How heavily mankind has trod this beautiful planet. When we left Eden we founded “The World Industrial Development Corporation” and have been ill at ease ever since. The WIDC views the “trout” as an enemy, or a resource for potential profit.
One of the Bible’s great stories says that God came to feel He “repented” He had ever made man? We are told that was what God was feeling during the time of Noah. And he flooded the earth to get rid of every human being, except Noah and his family, who knew how to live with the animals! The trout were spared of course!

The Lure of Darkness

The Lure of Darkness

There seems to be a lure towards darkness. As the Phantom of the opera tells us, the darkness is seductive. It is amazing that this character who is a serial killer gets portrayed with such sympathy. But he does. People love the Phantom.

Children are afraid of the dark for the monsters they fear hide in it. But they grow up to be adults who are just as often drawn to it, lured to it for its purported appeal of power. The darkness has a slick which lures us, ever so gently.

Many, many years ago I dated a woman who claimed that her family was a part of the Gambino Crime Family. She described the anxiety her family felt when big Paul Castellano  (“Big Paulie”) got whacked by John Gotti. They didn’t know what to expect.  She described how the FBI came to all the family gatherings. Her Aunt Jenny had also married a man in the Gambino family. She calmly related how her Aunt Jenny would have to kiss the ring of “Cousin Joey” when she and her husband went to family gatherings. Her uncle, she claimed, was a Capo in the family. He was a butcher in ordinary life. I shook his hand once and. I thought he was going to break it.  There was an icy coldness about him.  I dated this woman and went with her to family occasions. Once at the dinner table I made the mistake of mentioning an opera company which I described as Mafioso. People’s heads shot up and their eyes almost popped out. I always had a knack for faut pas!

When I first moved to New York for my operatic career I had to supplement my opera income with other gigs and often sang in Italian restaurants. The Godfather had just come out and everybody was talking about it. Real “Wise Guys” would come into the restaurants and talk about how they were famous now! Even they were taken by the glamorous mob figures the movie presented.  Soon the whole country was obsessed with the characters. But the real Wise Guys were not at all glamorous. They were cold as ice and dead serious. They believed, as surely as Iago, in the darkness they lived in.

Several times I sang in an Italian restaurant run by a guy who had been a book keeper for the mob. His tough wife ran the place. One evening the great baritone from the Metropolitan Opera, Mario Sereni, walked in. I sang Nemico della Patria for him and he motioned for me to come to his table. He was very complimentary about my singing and every bit a Divo. We talked shop a bit and then in walked a dozen Wise Guys. The air froze and everybody stopped talking. They went downstairs to have a meeting. Gradually people resumed their conversations. Sereni had sung a lot of operatic roles that I aspired to sing and so I picked his brain for a while. Finally natured called and I excused myself to go to the wash room which in this restaurant was down stairs. Sereni grabbed my arm and asked, “Where are you going?” I told him, “I need to go to the John.” He shook his head and said, “Better you piss yourself than to go down there. When they are down there, you stay up here.” I got it.

When I wasn’t performing opera, I was often bartending at the Asti Restaurant in Greenwich Village. One of my friends had introduced me to this opera restaurant shortly after I moved to New York and I loved it. It was owned by Adolfo Mariani who had been a pretty good baritone himself. He studied with Madame Schuman-Heink but discovered he just wasn’t quite good enough to make a career out of singing so he opened a restaurant. There were lots of Italian restaurants, so to make his distinct, he began singing behind the bar, using the bell of the cash register for some accompaniment. Soon the waiters were singing. Then he hired some singers to perform arias and ensembles. After a while The Asti became the place where opera singers would go after a performance. Adolfo covered the walls with the pictures of all the great singers who came and sang there. After many years the quality of the singers hired for the restaurant became less distinguished and the show became more of a comedy or parody on opera, but people still loved to go there and great singers would still come and sing. My friend took me there and I loved the place. A Neapolitan baritone was singing La Donna e Mobile and I could hear that it was a step down in key. I wondered what he was going to do at the end. He started to go down and so from the table I sang the high note to end the aria, a high A in his key. People applauded and cheered. Adolfo came to the table and introduced himself. He was such a gentleman and a great raconteur. “You’ve got quite a voice,” he said. “Sing something for us.”  I got up and sang the prologue to I Pagliacci and the whole place went nuts. Adolfo and I became friends and The Asti became almost a home away from home.

I sang at the Asti so many times and finally got on A&E while singing there. One evening I sang an aria that really brought the house down and a couple of well dressed gentlemen called me over to their table  They said they were “investment bankers” from Denver and liked my singing so much they wanted to talk to me about my career.  They proposed that they would become “limited partners” in my career in exchange for an equity interest in it. In my beginning lean years they would advance me a guaranteed salary of $50,000 a year and make certain contacts that would enable my career to grow. For a young singer just starting his career this sounded like a heavenly gift. They suggested that I contact them through a lawyer and draw up the deal. I utilized one of my contacts in the opera world who was a stock broker on Wall Street and asked if he would make the deal. Soon drafts were flying back and forth. But one day I caught the whiff of something Faustian in the air. They wanted the contract to be “for life.”  We got them to change the wording to “for the life of my voice.” That seemed better but by this time I was getting a very uneasy feeling.  I wanted to know who they really represented. I had a friend in New Jersey who had mob contacts so I asked her to check them out. Sure enough, they worked for the mob in Denver. No sooner did she check them out than they found out she checked them out! As soon as they discovered that I knew who they were they backed out of the deal!!  All during this process when drafts were flying and it looked like the deal was a done job, I had feelings of titillation and power. I was going on up to the East Side…finally got a piece of the pie! The lure of darkness is to believe in it. Wise Guys are the high priests of a dualistic world that believes it is separate from God. They share that role with priests, ministers, rabbis and gurus. You say. “Teach something abstract man. I know there is evil. Just read the newspaper.” How much we have invested in the belief in evil! If evil is real, God is not. You can’t have it both ways.  If you can justify hating your brother, God will remain unknown to you.  Dualistic systems complain that Monism does not do “justice” to the problem of evil and suffering in the world.  But no justice is done in affirming the reality of something that must be illusory. The lure of darkness is to believe in it. The belief that darkness is real and that it can fight the light is as illusory as a nightmare.  To believe in darkness is to give it power it can never have in truth. In Verdi’s Otello Iago said:

“I believe in a cruel god who has created me in his image, and whom in hate, I call upon. From some vile germ or base atom was I born. I am evil because I am a man; and I feel the primordial slime in me. Yes! This is my creed. I believe with a firm heart, just as does the young widow in church, that the evil I think and which from me proceeds was decreed for me by fate. I believe that the honest man is a mocking buffoon and both in face and heart, everything in him is a lie; tears, kisses, glances, sacrifices and honor. And I believe man to be the plaything of a wicked fate, from the germ of the cradle to the worm of the grave. And after this derision comes death. And then. And then. Death is nothingness. Heaven is an old wives’ tale.”From this thought system came all the illusions which followed in the play with its tragic end.

A Course in Miracles gives us a non-dualistic system. It says, “The opposite of love is fear, but what is all encompassing can have no opposite. This Course can therefore be summed up very simply in this way: Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lies the peace of God.”

The world we see of opposites, of good and bad, inhabited by separated creatures, is not real. It has no more reality than a child’s nightmare. It is a mistake in thought. It stems from a tiny mad idea that we could be different from God, even hurt him, offend him, or receive punishment from him. It is the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden. It is an illusion. The world of duality which we see was not made by God. We made it, and we continue to make it every day by projecting the opposite. There is in truth nothing opposite to God’s Love. It is all encompassing. But by a mistake in thought we have created fear and projected it. This nightmare world is no more real than Iago’s creed, but we believe in it. We give in to the lure of darkness in our tiny made idea that we could be different from God, offend him, hurt him, be punished by him.  And then, like the Phantom, we strive to convince others that this darkness is not only real but better than the light.

Night-time sharpens,

heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination

Silently the senses abandon their defences …

Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendour

Grasp it, sense it – tremulous and tender

Turn your face away

from the garish light of day,

turn your thoughts away

from cold, unfeeling light –

and listen to the music of the night …

Close your eyes and surrender to your

darkest dreams!

Purge your thoughts of the life

you knew before!

Close your eyes,

let your spirit start to soar!

And you’ll live

as you’ve never lived before …

Softly, deftly,

music shall surround you …

Feel it, hear it,

closing in around you …

Open up your mind,

let your fantasies unwind,

in this darkness which

you know you cannot fight –

the darkness of the music of the night …

Let your mind start a journey

through a strange new world!

Leave all thoughts

of the world you knew before!

Let your soul take you where you

long to be !

Only then can you belong to me …

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!

Touch me, trust me savour each sensation!

Let the dream begin,

let your darker side give in

to the power of the music that I write –

the power of the music of the night …

You alone can make my song take flight –

help me make the music of the night . . .

As odd as it may sound, all dualistic systems sing this song. They need to make the darkness real. They need to have a vengeful god who punishes the wicked. They need to have a Satan and a hell where he can be tortured forever along with the wicked.

The truth is: Only God and His extensions of Love are real. Whatever is not of love is not real. God is spirit. Whatever is not of spirit is not real.  Nothing real can be threatened. It is not at risk. It cannot be harmed. It cannot be offended. Nothing unreal exists. The world of form we see is made up from a tiny error in thought.  And from this error comes the nightmarish belief that we have offended God and have fallen from his favor.

In the famous words of Jonathan Edwards’ sermon, “Sinners in the hands of an angry God:”

“The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider, or some detestable insect, over the fire, detests you, and is dreadfully provoked: His wrath towards you burns like fire; He looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be thrown into the fire; He eyes are too pure than to bear to have you in His sight; you are ten thousand times more abominable in His eyes, than the most hateful venomous snake is in ours. You have offended Him infinitely more than ever a stubborn rebel did his prince: and yet, it is nothing but His hand that holds you from falling into the fire every moment. It is to be ascribed to nothing else, that you did not go to hell last night; that you were allowed to awake up again in this world, after you closed your eyes to sleep. And there is no other reason to be given, why you have not dropped into hell since you arose this morning, but that God’s hand has held you up. There is no other reason to be given why you have not gone to hell, since you have sat here in this church, provoking His pure eyes by your sinful wicked manner of attending His solemn worship. Yes, there is nothing else that is to be given as a reason why you do not this very moment drop down into hell.”

This is the insane thought that comes from our tiny mad idea just as the whole drama of Othello proceeded from Iago’s insane creed.  We are given in every moment the light of the Holy Spirit to keep us from the lure of darkness. We are given God’s love in place of our fear. We are given his whole so that we will not have to project the opposite. We must forget the world that we have made and remember Heaven which is our home, and where we remain still. The first step is to forgive our brother for what he has never in truth done to us. As we forgive we remember more of our true identity as God’s Son. We travel but in dreams while safely at Home.  The lure of darkness is not real.

There is Nothing Outside of You

There is nothing outside of you. You hold the memory of the world in your mind and project it outward every day. The world you see is but a reflection of your mind. This would present you with hopelessness were it not for the power of forgiveness in which you replace your sorry memory of the world with the Vision Christ brings. Seen through the eyes of forgiveness, the world you remembered and projected becomes filled with light. The only condition for Vision is complete forgiveness of everyone and everything. No hidden blot of special darkness is allowed. No special hatreds can be left in secret. Is this such a price to pay for Vision? As forgiveness happens, you begin to see a little light around the edges of your dreary world. When forgiveness is complete, the shining real world presents itself to you as a reflection of Heaven, so near that the distance to God is but a tiny step. Gone is your memory of the world you projected. Miss it not, for its memory is a happy loss. Now are you free to remember Heaven, your ancient Home, and surprised you will be to see yourself greet you at Heaven’s gate, for you have never left in truth. All of your journeys through time have been but dreams. In gratefulness do you surrender your little rebellious dream of individuality and enter into the Oneness that you have always been. Every loving thought you have had is perfectly remembered. Is this not enough? Now does Christ look on His Father afresh and sing the ancient hymn in praise of Heaven. Now do the lights of Heaven burn with their ancient brightness and within it you are a part.
My brothers, do not fail to hear me in this hour. For now is the time to forget the world and remember Heaven. Remember and awaken!


“The night air cools and your voice becomes still

“The night air cools and your voice becomes still. In these moments you can hear my voice. I am always with you but you cannot always attend to me. Blessings abound but your mind is a junkyard. In perfect heaven you do sit while dreaming of earth and exile. My voice has but one purpose; to awaken you. Forget the nightmares you project and remember heaven. You have not in truth left it, nor are you in any danger. Safe within creation’s Love do you sit. Nothing serious has been done to you. Awakening is not possible as long as you believe in sin, guilt and fear.  But see past them you can and the world you created from them will drop before your eyes as the shining presence of God replaces it.

Be still and know that I am God. The night shimmers with my love for you. In the dark, night clouds fly over you, unnoticed, just as my love covers you always but goes often unnoticed. Be still and know that I am God. The song you sing comes from my heart which is yours also. Do not let the body quiet your song. Let the song remake the body.”

Getting Lost In Dreams

“It is easy to get lost in dreams. They furnish the evidence that you seek in proclaiming your separateness. You live but in dreams while the love that you are goes unnoticed or only vaguely remembered. Do not wonder how easily you forget heaven. Wonder instead why you choose dreams in place of reality. Is it not because you fear reality? If Love is all-encompassing, have you not projected the opposite? Fear must be illusion, and you become lost in it. This is the answer to your question why do you so easily forget me.  Be still and know that I am God. You wish to remember me and yet there are blockages to your recollection. Know them well you should, for you have made them and given them a place in your heart where I wish to dwell. If I take my place in your heart there is nothing but the song you cannot forget. The Song that seems to be forgotten is not. Its melody stays there, firm, beautiful, structured as it was. What could you do to change it? And so it haunts you, coming back in little wisps of memory, phrase by phrase, asking for its whole. And you would remember. Remember, and let a little of the Song come back to you and through you.”