I am so thankful to be here. After an illness last
week, my entire perspective was jolted. It came just as my dear friend David, was being lowered into the earth. Those events, when coupled, caused a spike in
my awareness. While the events are dreadful, I hope I can keep the energy of
this spike. It feels so wonderful in my soul.
I think it is a good idea to give the self some things to
do. Many of today’s teacher’s call the self; ego. For some reason, I have yet
to embrace that. It carries a connotation that maybe the self has to be
selfish. This may not be so. I think we may be able to train the self.
When I think of the self now, I think of it as my thing. The
self is a subordinate to The I AM. What has only just come to light for me is
that the self is very unaware of its status as a servant. The self is not a
power-grabber, but all of its thoughts assure it that it is doing everything
own its own. One way to think of this is to consider other people you know. Do
you feel a separation from yourself and those other selves? You probably do. I
know I do. But then, let us consider the category, Life. Are those other people
a part of Life? Are you are part of Life? Somehow, while we think of ourselves
as individuals, at the same time, we accept the fact that we are also a small
part of a bigger picture; whatever that picture is. I am not Everything, but I am
a part of It. With this understanding in mind, let us come back to the self and
simply observe any self at all. As an Observer, it is very easy to see that
every self has its uniqueness. One characteristic present in every self, is the
mind in the mechanical room of each self. To say that the mind is unaware is
not really fair. It is extremely aware of the functions of itself. However, it
is not the duty of the mind to grasp what is “out there”. Think of the self as
having been trained to operate the machine that gives it life. It is not unlike
legs, hands, eyes and so on. If you have two legs and if you are familiar with
walking on them, you can see that it serves you best if your legs only concern
themselves with the body perched above them. Can you imagine trying to make
your legs aware of other bodies that may also need mobility? Your legs would
lose track of their mission and, in their confusion, they’d fail you in order
to see what they could do for others. So the self, running all of the controls
in the mechanical room of your individual machine, constantly works to keep the
machine running. One by one, it will solve problems without worrying about what
may exist aside from its machine. In fact, it will actually attempt to put
everything in a logical, local category. Give it a word and watch what it does.
This can be entertaining. The self in every individual is a decorated soldier.
This soldier is trained to be extremely disciplined. The self does not cry. The
soldier in you can tell when you are crying; he rolls his eyes and causes your
hand to reach for a towel. He sends commands like, “Stop. Focus. Regroup.
Straighten up. Get a grip.”
That is his duty to the machine. The self does not care what
it is that is making you cry. This proud, decorated soldier calls it a storm
and he starts yelling commands to every hand on the ship of your experience.
With every surge, the soldier says, “Stay with me; we’ve got to get through
this.”
Throughout your life, you will find yourself in waters like
this and, if you will observe carefully, you can see the work of the soldier in
real time. Your eyes may fill with tears and you may feel tremendous heartache
and you may hear yourself saying, “I don’t know why I cannot stop crying.”
In such a moment, you can see two distinct characteristics
present within you. One is filled with grief or sympathy or empathy or love. One
is building a resistance to these categories as quickly as possible. You’ll
notice that there is something about yourself that says, “We cannot remain in
this dreadfully raw place and function in this real world.”
At the same time, you will probably notice The I AM saying, “Fine,
but the feelings will remain. I’ll just try to spare the self from as much
exposure as possible.”
In every case of grief, the self eventually emerges. He has
saved his ship. Oftentimes you will hear someone say, “I am still standing!”
When someone says this, they are not saying that they’ve
overcome the sadness; they are saying that the machine has been refitted to
carry on with the new information.
That’s right; to your soul, it is not just information. Your
heart has broken. Your life has changed. There is sadness. But to the self, a
few new boards are brought in and a wall is thrown up to hold back the
emotional part of this new situation.
You’ll see this in your own experience when a loved one
dies. At first, it has the capacity to cripple your ship, but you know you mustn’t
allow the situation to take you to the bottom of the sea. In most cases, day by
day, you’ll find yourself engaging in routine events again; in spite of the
fact that the loss is still very real.
As The Observer you are, you can hover over this situation
with The Light of Awareness and you can see how both sides are getting on.
Shining the light on the self, you’ll notice new safeguards and supports in
place. The self may gather friends and ask for support in order to regain the
ship and this is a very good idea. Then if you take the same Lamp and shine it
on The I AM, you’ll see that the feelings are all still there. The emotions are
there. The I AM is also relying on the support of friends, but It needs and
wants to get to The I AM in them. The pain and rawness of the event recolors
the water around your ship and it may even appear red to your Awareness. You
see this color changing the very Ocean of your own existence and you know it
has begun to reshape the entire Ocean forever. The waves will be different now.
The tide may be different. Your “I AM” has affected the entire experience for
yourself and everyone else; forever and throughout all space. In a case where
you’ve lost a loved one, the very buoyancy of your own ship will likely
increase; making navigation easier on the self; that determined soldier in your
wheelhouse.
This is how our loved ones remain with us forever. In the
physical sense, we can observe the ship and notice their absence, but if we
allow a look by The Observer in us, we will see our loved one’s impact on The
Sea of Life. If we are honest with our mighty soldier, the self, we cannot
ignore the changes in The Sea. The self has the data too. That’s why, if you
consider the machine you are riding in, you’ll notice more resilience in
certain, affected areas. A good soldier will guide you around your own ship and
say things like, “See, I made it through that day without tears.” And later on,
“I’ve been through a lot and I am stronger as a result.”
These are the words of your captain. Without him, you’ll go
mad. Let him do his job. Let him reach for towels and let him have friends. It is
not his job to file any kind of emotion at all. It is his job to stop those
files from contaminating the machine. That’s healthy and normal. The captain
will make yourself stronger.
