Shortcomings



Many people refuse to deny
their shortcomings. They hold that they are perfect in Divine Mind and that it is superfluous to deny that which has no existence. But they are still subject to the appetites and passions of mortality, and will continue to be until they are "born anew" (Mysteries of John, page 35).

Shortcomings! Don’t like that word, being somewhat short myself, but then the shortcomings of which I speak are the attributes of my earthly life that fall short of the life I live in Spirit. Those that do not acknowledge this, that “refuse to deny their shortcomings,” as Fillmore wrote, are called “absolutists.” Which is fine in the absolute, but you and I live here in the relative world. How to address this?

You are of two planes of existence, the heavenly, or higher spiritual consciousness; and the earthly, physical consciousness where ego rules a good bit of the time. You have no shortcomings in heaven, but no doubt at least a few in the physical world. However, shortcomings in the physical world arise from ego, not from you, and therefore you can say that you have no shortcomings, but you might add, “in the world of Spirit.” Because the ego is more of a condition of mind rather than a real, physical, entity. The only reality of our shortcomings is in experience in and through the ego mind.

This doesn’t mean that you do not have work to do though, because, though ego is not real, our experience of ego is real. The solution: never claim yourself to have shortcomings, but rather that you are working on the shortcomings of your ego self, or human self. But the conundrum is, you live in the physical, human, ego dominated world. What to do? You must be, as Fillmore writes, “born anew.” Ok, but what does it mean to be “born anew?” Again, Fillmore provides the answer:

The new birth is simply the realization by man of his spiritual identity, with the fullness of power and glory that follows (Mysteries of John, pages 37, 38).

In other words, it is a movement of mind, not a movement of body. When your physical or mental shortcomings cause you anxiety and discomfort, remember this and tell yourself, “What I do not like about me isn’t really about me - it is about my ego, for I am a perfect creation of God.”

I don’t know why I sometimes call myself short. After all, you and I are tall in the sight of God, all His angels, and the Christ which lives in you and I, and into which we are born again.

Step into power; step in to glory; know that you are a spiritual being having a human experience, and your power and glory are in your relationship to God.

 

 

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Pets and Companions


Tomorrow, we hold our annual Pet Blessing ceremony. I love doing this ceremony, but I’ve always thought I would like to call it something other than a “Pet Blessing.” To me, being called a “pet” is devaluating, having the connotation of “less than.” I have a problem with this because I do not consider my “pets” - Sophia the canine and Suzie Q the feline - as being “less than” and I certainly value them more highly than I can express. Because of this, I like to call my pets my companions. But then, in order to be clear, I feel I have to say, “animal companions,” which seems a bit auditorially clunky. Then I looked up the words “companion” and “pet” in the dictionary.

One meaning of “Companion” is someone who is with you most of the time. That’s a match, but underwhelming. And the word I used just nine words ago, “match” is also a definition of the word “companion.” Well, my animal companions are certainly a good match, but those definitions are overwhelmingly underwhelming. And then I looked up “Pet.”

And was I ever surprised! The first definition is, “any domesticated or tamed animal that is kept as a companion and cared for affectionately.” My animal buddies are, as no doubt are yours, quite domesticated and tame, in that they do not view me as a food source, nor run amuck doing wild and destructive things. At least, not most of the time. But the last part of that definition got my attention: “that is kept as a companion and cared for affectionately. That certainly fits. And the next one, “a thing particularly cherished,” is right on the money. So, I stand corrected: “pet” is a great way to refer to our, uh, pets. And then I read the rest of the definition and I was even more surprised at what I read: “especially cherished or indulged, as a child or other person.” Of course I cherish, and, yes, indulge my pets, and they are certainly cared for affectionately, but it was the last part, “as a child or other person” that got me.

Those of us who have pets and love them are too often anguished at how some others treat and care for – or not care for – their pets. Why have pets if you do not love and cherish them? But when I read, “as a child or other person,” I was forced to ask the question, “Do I treat other people as well as I do my pets?”

Umm, difficult question, that. My answer was, to my dismay, “Not always.” I think I can say that I do so much of the time, but then there is that person who cut me off at the intersection, the one that was way too brusk at the checkout counter, the one that tramped all over my beloved idea, and a host of others that have acted in ways other than what I deemed loving, kind, and good.

Why we love our pets so much is something of a mystery. They are, for the most part, unproductive regarding the necessary functions of providing food and shelter. I’ve never been reimbursed, let alone tipped, for providing the services to them that I do. Or am I? That question led me to what I see as biggest part of the reason I love my pets, and perhaps it will resonate with you as well. I love my pets because they love me - and not only love me, but love me unconditionally. They are always there, and even if I have to demand some behavior of which they are not fond, such as staying home when I can’t take them with me, or ending a nice walk after some considerable length even though they never want it to end, they do what I ask them to do and love me anyway. I even accidently shut my first dog’s tail in the car door and she loved me anyway.

So, when I ask myself, “Do I treat other people as well as I do my pets?” I am not always able to answer that question with a “yes.” Then I think, “Yes, but then others don’t treat me with unconditional love either!” That sounds reasonable, but, ooops, my pets treat me with unconditional love no matter what I do. Yikes! How do I live up to that? The answer is, “as best I can.”

All of this leads me to my final and wondrous conclusion: my pets are my role models. I don’t want my pets to be more like me - I want to be more like them.

We spend a lot of time, most of us, trying to train our pets to be more like us - “Speak, sit, stay.” I’m thinking we have it all wrong - they should be training us to be more like them. Oh, wait... they are.

 

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Isabella Bella LittleBit Stone

 



Such a long name
for such a small dog. Isabella Bella LittleBit Stone, or Bella, as I usually call her, is a Toy Poodle, about 9 pounds. She joins Sophia Joy, my Standard Poodle - at 51 pounds - and Susie Q, my Toy Poodle-sized kitty. Though I didn’t intend it, Bella’s long name is appropriate because there is a Big Dog inside the Little Dog.

I adopted Bella from BARK (Billings Animal Rescue Kare). When she met Sophia she trotted right up to her, five times Bella’s size, and did the nose-hello bit. No nervous Nellie is Bella. Later she was at a friend of mine’s house and met her rather large cat - bigger than Bella by a big bit. Fortunately, the big cat especially likes little dogs. On toast. No, no, just kidding, she really does like little dogs. Anyway, Little Dog marched right up to Big Cat and repeated the nose-hello bit again. She has repeated this with every dog/cat/person she’s met regardless of size.

I am relating this to you because you and I are often the “Little Dog” in this Big World as we face the toothy, growling, howling challenges that confront us. Sometimes I feel as though I am the Little Dog, at least initially, but other times I find the Big Dog in the Little Me. I bet you do too. So why are we the Little Dog sometimes and the Big Dog at other times?

There is a saying, “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight; it’s the size of the fight in the dog.” Exactly. The “fight” - facing challenges - calls out the Big Dog in us. We face challenges for many reasons, and one of those reasons is to show us through experience that we are more than we think we are. And the reason we sometimes address our “fights” as a Big Dog and sometimes as a Little Dog is obvious once you think about it.

The Little Dog acts as though it is a Big Dog because it believes it is! But sometimes the Big Dog Challenge is so big, the Little Dog identifies with its diminutive physical size. Little Dogs becomes Big Dogs when they ignore size and act as though they were Big Dogs.

Here is the defining question: who put that Big Dog in that Little Dog? The answer is obvious: just spell dog backwards to see it.

We are all Little Dogs in this Big Universe when we assess our physical relationship to the rest of the universe. “That person/challenge/authority, is so much bigger and powerful than me!” we sometimes think. And so it is. But there is a way to be a Big Dog in every situation, every challenge, every experience, no matter what the human size differential might be: ask, “Who put the Big Dog in me?” The answer is, of course, God did.

You and I can face our Big Dog challenges and fears by realizing that we do have a Big Dog inside, and that Big Dog is really a Big God. And all you have to do to embrace this truth is to think to yourself, “God is within me, and nothing is bigger than God.”


Isabella Bella LittleBit Stone, you are a messenger from God, reminding us that our inside is much, much bigger than our outside.

 

 

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   Rust





I watched a film
last night, “Rust.” It caught my attention because it was about a minister who left the ministry because his faith had faded, and that was because he saw so much suffering in the world and could not understand why God allowed that to happen. The name, “Rust,” I suppose, referred to the deterioration and death of all things. I can identify with that; I sometimes wonder why bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people.

I saw another film not too long ago, “The Way.” Basically, it was about a man who was searching for understanding and comfort after his son died in a storm while camping. As a result of the loss of his son, he had issues with God and didn’t understand why God allowed that to happen.

The difference between the two films, as I saw them, was that the first film focused on all that was wrong and the accepting of it all on faith, and the second film focused on finding something positive in the experience of all that seemed so wrong. There was much more to both films, but these aspects were what bubbled to the surface of my mind this morning.

So, why do bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people? I could write a book on this topic, but the kernels of truth here are:

1. There are no bad things.
2. There are no bad people.
3. All things are good.

4. All people are good.

There is a good chance that you are thinking, “What!?! Of course there are bad things and people, and no, not everything, nor everyone, is good!” And this is true as seen through human perception as experienced in this finite and infinitely confusing world. But as seen with spiritual perception, there is much more to know and understand that will reveal the truth of the perfection of it all.

I believe that everyone is good because everyone is a creation of God, and God, being perfect, could not, and would not, create anything less than perfect. Why do we not see this perfection? Because we cannot see the whole which solves the problem of the part - the partial experience upon which we base our judgements. Imagine a person who has lived in the wilderness all of his life and has never seen any modern construction. This person is touring Billings, Montana (where better to make a transition from wilderness to civilization?), when he happens upon a house that is being torn down to make way for a new one. As he views the chaotic construction site, parts of the house still standing, but most of the house is lying in shambles. Seeing this, he asked about the terrible calamity that must have happened there.

The truth of the “rusting” of this house was not that there was tragedy, but that there was a clearing away of what was no longer needed and useful. In this physical universe based on perception, all that is in consciousness that is no longer needed and useful must be cleared away to make way for the next stage in the construction of our divine consciousness. All that we experience here is necessary for this purpose, but we do not see the truth of it because we are like one who is just now venturing from the wilderness of human experience into spiritual civilization and does not understand the whole of it. Everything and everyone one is good because they are a part of the unseen whole which leads back to perfection, perfect understanding, and to God.

One more question remains, at least for me, and that is, “But why does it have to happen in this way?” The answer, as found in one of the “Conversations with God books,” is that we “cannot know what is until we are in the presence of what is not.” We do not yet understand the process of the dismantling of old consciousness and construction of  a new consciousness. We must be in the presence of what is not - the old consciousness of “evil” – “good and bad” – and all forms of judgement – before we can see the unseen perfection of the whole.

Rust is a form of entropy, which is defined as the movement from order to disorder. All things experience the process of rust, that is, deterioration as experienced through perception. But entropy is not a movement from order to disorder – it is a movement from the complex resulting from the artificial construction of all things, to the simplicity of what was before all that is simple was made complex.

Spiritual “rust”  is a form of spiritual entropy, which is the movement from the complexity of the human illusion of separation from God, and the resulting artificial construction of all things of human perception, to the simplicity of our oneness with God, from what was before all that was One and simple was made complex as a result of the illusion of our separation from God.

The solution for you and me is to begin to shift our vision from the limited perception of all things earthly and human, to the as yet unseen wholeness and perfection of our oneness with God. This is what faith truly is. A spiritual confidence that, although we do not see the end, we trust that God has written a perfect end to our story.

All things are good – even the rusty story of our lives in the illusion.

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