. pp 112).I have read this before, heard it from many sources, but regularly fail to make achieving it a priority in my life. This morning when I went over to my mum's to change the sheets on her bed, fold and stow her laundry, and take out her garbage, the idea of being God's instrument fled from my mind the moment I found my mother sitting on her walker in her walk-in closet, in the dark, sleeping. I was somewhat alarmed, even though she then said she had not been feeling well and was just napping. By the time I had recovered some of my equilibrium, all thought of attempting to be an instrument to bring light into her darkness -- she isn't entirely living in darkness as she introduced me to the teachings of Goldsmith, but she has either forgotten or deleted it from a place of importance in her life -- had fled.
Before helping my mother, I had walked Sadie in the woods beside the river. It was another lovely day, cold and frosty with snow whitening the crests of the surrounding hills. I tried so hard to meditate or be aware as I walked, but constant distractions seemed to prevent me from being successful.
When on the way home I stopped at the grocery store to buy milk and eggs, there I was sharing a supermarket and interacting with shoppers, clerks, and cashiers, and walking around in a daze, forgetting entirely that these people are me and I them and we are all one. As far as I could tell, I was certainly not a conduit for light, or any other energy that God felt like channeling through me to them. This doesn't mean that I was rude or anything like that. It was more as if I was exhausted and everybody was invisible to me because it required too much effort of me to actually see them.
It seems to me that it is important to practice and develop a skill such as being an instrument of God in an easy, non-threatening environment so that one becomes au fait with it and can carry it out in a more challenging environment or situation. I suppose that herein lies an error: that it is not a skill that I need to develop, but a state of being that God will develop through me. Unfortunately, my rational mind wants to know when I am doing it right or getting it right and is certain that there is a technique that has to be learned.
This afternoon, I had again the discouraging thought that I am really getting nowhere. I can see no change for the better in my life; no improvement; no fabulous insight which will take me to the next level if there is a next level; no growth. Stagnation, yes. Definitely stuck. Even non-functional. I don't know how to move forward. I have no insight, no sense of guidence, no intuition, no passion to help direct me. I have too many questions and no answers. And the more I study and try to figure this stuff out, the more questions and fewer answers I have. I am even beginning to think that being a normal human being, working and chasing money for survival, going to fitness clubs, taking holidays, gossiping, and trying to keep up with trends is more fun than the spiritual life. At least one has rules to guide one and in that there is something almost like a sense of security for one knows how one has to function to exist as a member of the human race. Having typed this, I just saw the news bulletin about Libya and realize that I need to qualify "human race" to read Western or Canadian society.
Returning to the quote from Practicing the Presence, it is my understanding that controlling the mind so that thoughts aren't impediments to universal energy, and acting upon divine impulse is the correct spiritual way to operate in the world, and is one way of being God's instrument. How does the spiritual student succeed at this though, if she is always being distracted by happenings in the world around her, or by her emotional state? Is it something that can be achieved through forming a habit, or does one just evolve to a state where one can easily be the instrument of God? I wish I could find a really good set of instructions or recipe to follow.
And then there is this niggling thought in my mind, that maybe I am looking too hard for too much. When I help my mother, I can see that she has been eased and has found temporary peace. Maybe God is working through me, but I don't know, acknowledge, or recognize it. That brings back that lovely little ditty from the novel we had to read in high school, Who has seen the Wind
: "Who has seen the wind. Neither you nor I. But when the trees bow down their heads the wind is passing by." I think I quoted it accurately, but whether I have or haven't, it conveys what I am getting at: that when dealing with Universal truths and God, maybe I should give more importance to effects, like what my mother becomes after I have spent time with her? This requires some pondering.Namaste
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