Certainly it is true that the gifts of God are many, and that God knows everything – ranging from our needs to the desires of our hearts – before we even utter a thought regarding them. And I believe it is true that God blesses us with a constant stream of gifts so numerous that many of them are taken for granted: our senses of sight and sound, taste and touch, sunrises and sunsets, friends and family. The list is infinite, really.

Even so, in the midst of all of this great gifting, we would benefit from pausing to give ourselves a heart-check:

Do we sometimes mistake the gifts of God for a relationship with God?

In other words, how much of our thought-world regarding God is based upon some sort of give-and-take relationship (God gives, we take)?

Relationships, even the most common, are rigorously complex. How much more a relationship with a Source infinite in being-ness… not only that, but one who does not audibly respond to the persistent dialogue and chatter of our minds?

We have our sacred texts. We have our intuitions. We have spiritual friendships and perhaps fellowships. We have an inner consciousness or spirit upon which we draw for understanding of how God might be guiding us. But ultimately what we really have is a well-intentioned faith that somehow continues to draw us nearer to the heart of what we perceive as “G-D.”

Maybe this is why people of faith so often frame their relationship with God based upon how they perceive they are being blessed by abundance or lack, or by what doors are being opened versus closed and why all that might be. Maybe it’s just easier to frame things this way because these seem to be a more concrete way of keeping score with whether we are walking with God or not – maybe they are the closest to a tangible response we can discern or discover?

But is this way of relation with God really relational? Are there other ways to have relationship that might take us more deeply into the way of this mysterious G-D we seek?

For instance, when I think of a relationship with God, I think of how I understand God’s unfolding or Presence within the universe. If God is love as my sacred text (the Bible) declares, then what does love do and what does love look like in action? This is an important question because when I seek to answer it by the way I live my life, in a very real and concrete way I am joining with and entering more deeply into my relationship with God: Sort of a ‘like father, like son’ kind of relationship.

By framing relationship with God in a way that calls me to enable God to extend into the world through me, I am opening myself up to be more relationally involved with God as God’s love becomes my love – and the same with God’s empathy, compassion, peacemaking, forbearance, embrace, etc.

And so as each day comes to a close I can sit back and reflect upon the ways and depth of my relationship with God via my participation in God’s activity and presence. The gifts of God are still there, but they are secondary to the ultimate and deeply intertwined call to be God to a world so much in need of God’s presence, of God’s touch.

But then there’s the ocean. That mighty and massive body of water, never failing to communicate to me just how small I am and how large the Presence that is ‘in’ and yet ‘beyond’ me (and all things!) is. And to think that I can know such a Presence and even be a part of this One’s nature – there’s such power in owning this thought.

Being at the ocean also reminds me of something else – a spiritual teaching from a source within Eastern wisdom literature: the principle states that, “It is the surface of the sea that makes waves and roaring breakers; the depth is silent.”

Think about this for a moment.

I love this. I love to recall it in times of upheaval when I know I should affirmatively respond to that numinous nudge to sit down, rediscover stillness, and enter into a place of quiet meditation. Again and again it reminds me that the turmoil of life occurs at the shallow shore of my egoic fears and incessant desire to be in control. Over and again this teaching affirms my need to go deep with God and there find the calm and rest for which I seek.

I think Jesus had this in mind when he spoke of those tossed back and forth by the wind – carried on the waves as if they had no choice or power over their destiny. For Jesus, these were people who did not know (or did not desire) to go into the deeper things of life; to descend to the greater depths of knowing and meaning and therein finding peace.

Think about it: When the surface things of life are breaking hard, there is a place of stillness to which you may always go. It’s the place that is perpetually calm because it is the deep place of real Presence, of real Spirit, of real Selfhood where nothing can hurt you or take away the eternal life that you are.

It’s a new week and the world is tentative because the winds and the waves abound – but you, YOU are an infinite soul with the infinite power of Presence guiding you to the depths of what is real. And with that, the words ‘have a great week’ should more easily and believably be received!

It may not seem like much, but an illusion is never a good thing. And when we don’t challenge some of the fundamental thinking/illusions of our lives, we end up with clouds over more than our eyes: We end up with clouds blocking us from the reality of the true Light of the world.

Of the three eyes, the ‘eye of the mind’ is the one we are probably least equipped to deal with. For instance, relatively few come to understand that their mind is a tool they’ve been given to use versus an identity they’ve been destined to embrace. And so they think. And they think negatively. And then thoughts become things and before you know it, your life is a disaster – all because you’ve allowed your mind to use you rather than learning how to use it.

I like the writings of Eckhart Tolle because of how adept Eckhart is at reminding us of this very point. His teachings often remind us that we are not our mind; rather, we are the observer behind our mind. And by observing, by watching with the third eye  – the ‘eye of the Spirit’  – we can more clearly see the games our minds tend to play along with the illusions they tend to weave.

We might find it helpful to distinguish the first two eyes and the last one by seeing them in terms of the ‘false’ versus ‘true’ self. The lower eyes, the eyes of flesh and mind, for me at least, equate to the false-self. Daily they bring me unwanted gifts such as fear, doubt, anger and depression by obsessing over the impermanent things of life and attempting to convince me that such things should take top priority. The eye of the Spirit, however, quickly picks up on all things impermanent, equating them to clouds blocking out the sun. This eye quickly removes me from the dimension most easily seen and guides me into the one beyond sight, beyond words, beyond thought.

This place is a place of peace and permanence, of eternity and endless compassion for all that is. And so once realized, we’ll want to visit this place more often. I know that I want to learn to live out of this place rather than the one the lower eyes keep trying to convince me represent the ‘real’ reality of life.

To do this, however, I have to keep repeating the mantra of ‘never mind.’ Never ‘mind.’ Never… mind. It’s a tool to be used, to be employed – but certainly not one we should allow to dictate our lives. And yet when we lead with our mind, this is exactly what is taking place.

‘Think’ about it – but only as the observer behind the mind.

And then, with the clouds removed, enjoy the Light of day.

The story is as follows: A group of Geography students studied the Seven Wonders of the World. At the end of that section, the students were asked to list what they considered to be the Seven Wonders of the World. Though there was some disagreement, the following got the most votes:

1. Egypt’s Great Pyramids
2. Taj Mahal
3. Grand Canyon
4. Panama Canal
5. Empire State Building
6. St. Peter’s Basilica
7. China’s Great Wall

While gathering the votes, the teacher noted that one student, a quiet girl, hadn’t turned in her paper yet. So she asked the girl if she was having trouble with her list. The girl replied, ‘Yes, a little. I couldn’t quite make up my mind because there were so many.’ The Teacher said, ‘Well, tell us what you have, and maybe we can help.’ The girl hesitated, then read aloud, ‘I think the Seven Wonders of the World are:

1. To touch
2. To taste
3. To see
4. To hear

…hesitating she continued…

     5.  To run

     6.  To laugh

     7.  And to Love’

 I guess the point is that this weekend all of us have access to some of the greatest wonders the world has to offer – and they didn’t come from our peers, either. If we choose to be attuned to these things, I’m thinking that no matter how our week has been, we will experience delight, gratitude, love, empathy and compassion in ways often not recovered by living rote lives given to the tyranny of the good – but in the present moment something much greater than good extends itself to us all.

Have a great weekend!

When these events come (and my how often they do come!), the balance of our worlds often tilt off their axis. For a period of time anyway, life seems unworkable – even undesirable. But this doesn’t have to be the case. Personally, to help me stabilize, to find true North again, here is a statement I find myself frequently repeating: “the happiness or unhappiness of people is often based upon what happens… not realizing that ‘what happens’ is the most unstable thing in the universe.”

The point is that our lives cannot ebb and flow with the ‘events’ that occur in them. Our good days cannot be good because things went well and our bad days cannot be bad simply because they didn’t.  Does that sound idealistic? Something easy to say, but impossible to live? Something a person might post on their blog but not stamp on their heart?

It’s a deep teaching, for sure – but it’s also one of the most wonderful spiritual disciplines to meditate upon and then make a practice of implementing that I have found – especially on the most challenging of days. I find it restores a substantive beauty to life.

Presently my wife Gwynne and I are dealing with the news that her brother, only 57 years old, has terminal cancer and it appears the time he has left in this dimension is tragically brief.  How are we to receive and cope with such news? Does life stop? Can our grief find compatibility with our joy or must we choose between the two? Can we not rejoice and grieve in the joyous reality of Presence in our life, his life, and in the lives of everyone else inhabiting this planet? Does the depth of this thing we call death not, for us, deepen the value we hold for all human life? Does this pain not carve out a deeper space within in which to experience Love and Presence in the time each of us has left?

While the events of our days are topsy-turvy indeed, the anchors we hold onto don’t have to be. We have choices. And perhaps, for me, the best choice is to repeat this mantra often: “the happiness or unhappiness of people is often based upon what happens… not realizing that ‘what happens’ is the most unstable thing in the universe.”

My encouragement to you is to not rise and fall with the tides of life. Instead, keep an eye out for your reaction to events you may be tempted to define as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and how your emotional outlook is affected. Then purposefully repeat the mantra and opt for stability – in all things opt for joy and authenticity. There is a time to rejoice and a time to weep. There is a time for mourning (deeply) and a time for celebration. But in both, in all things, are we not filled with Life, Presence, and the constant energy of the Unnameable?

And knowing ‘that’ is beyond anything that can ‘happen’ today.

In all your days – I wish you deep peace.