The Simple, Grammatical Cure to All Our Problems

This selection about the cure for society's problems comes from Chapter 11: Looking Into the Truth,

How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying)

A Simple Trick of Grammar Can Help You Find the Truth

      I really just want to have a simple, hooked-up, plugged-in knowledge of what I am: a beautifully fragile, flawed, creative, and potentially loving expression of Divine Source; along with my wife, my kids, my occupation, a nice meal on the table, and a little sunshine on my face…but it’s just not going to happen that way all of the time. I need some tools to help lift me over the self-created obstacles that block my spiritual view, especially when I like those obstacles. I need ways to trick my ego into leaving the room, so I can lock the door behind him and be happy in a room full of transcendent connectedness—a room with a view of Heaven. 

      In this human form, I find material life is like a vacuum—especially since it comes with so many attachments. It's easy to get sucked into all of the common biases, day-to-day definitions, and material demands of my life. While I can forget my divine connections in an instant, it seems that any time I’m not truly present, I can instantly become obsessed with all the material things that "I am supposed to be." I can quickly forget my own Divine Source.           
      All of the temporary aspects of my life—the externals—have always been changing, even when I don’t want them to; and it’s the instinctive, unconscious effort to control these changing parts of life that sucks us in, isn’t it? One of the best spiritual tools I’ve ever come across is a simple language trick that helps me divide what parts of my life are always changing from what parts aren't. It may be obvious to you that grammar isn’t my strong suit, but even an amateur analysis of sentence structure can help open the window in my heart up to a superior view of of The Divine, in a way.

      Ramana Maharshi, a wonderful 20^th century Indian swami, put his finger right on an important point of fact when he simply said (and I paraphrase): “The only important part of "I am this, or I am that" is the "I Am" part. It is always the second half—the "this or that" part that is the problem.” With that helpful grammatical foot up from the good Swami, we can see the distinction between the start of those statements we make about ourselves, "I am," and the finish, "this or that," and what an easy way it is to separate spirit from the material:

      "I am bored; I am an American; I am still waiting to get paid for that job; I am victimized by my landlord; I am smarter than all of those people are; I am detaching from that; I am very spiritual." 

      What changes and what doesn't change in all of those statements? You'll notice the second part, the "this or that" object is what changes, or can always change. It’s the movable part. The first part, the subject "I Am" always stays the same. So if we simply drop the second part, the first part is our connection to the eternal Self—the part that we all share! In this easy, open-ended way, we’re directed straight into the mystery, the common ground that we all spring from and stand upon. It's how we are all the same. That little I Am can compassionately connect us to each other, and to all of Nature, all the plants and animals, the oceans and the Earth—even to the stars and the Universe itself. It’s a pretty big trick for such a little bit of grammar. 

      Then it’s hard not to notice how that second part grammatically separates us from The Divine, by opening the door to our painful regrets, fantasies, expectations, and sense of self-entitlement: 

      “I was once the Homecoming Queen; I was really the first person to use that technique; I am more deserving of that promotion than anyone else; I am going to lose weight.” I am quite sure that none of that really matters.

      Just catching ourselves and stopping at "I am" immediately reconnects us to the real substance of Life, and appropriately disconnects us from the unnecessary desires, fears, conceits, and the like—our troublesome attachments to the vacuum of the material. 

Read about this and much more in: How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying), Wisdom From a Near-Death Survivor  from Llewellyn Worldwide available direct on this page, or online. The first book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond is available the same ways – but ask for it it at your local bookstore!

The Painful Beauty of Being "Broken-Open"

"Water finds limitless power by seeking it's lowest point."
– Zen saying

There's an essential aspect of our growth through this life that, by it's very nature, is so undesirable and contradictory to our search for happiness that it's often purposely overlooked, even by the most ardent self-examiners. In fact, I almost don't want to mention it (but I will). It's what happens to us when unavoidably awful things are happening to us…that is, when we have really good reasons to be unhappy.

This is a miraculously beautiful world we get to inhabit, no doubt about it, but it's also fraught with terrible passages, and what appear to be injustices of the worst kind all around. Unfortunately, none of us will escape these experiences completely. But is it really misfortune, or is it our opportunity to discover our greatest potential? After all, feelings will come and go in a predictable way. Bad things feel bad, good things feel good. It is a sensory world.

When something awful happens to us: When we're laid-off from a "secure" job; we lose a loved one in an unfair way; when we are ourselves suddenly victimized by bad health; when we "fail" at finance – or with a relationship; or even when we're just forced to confront our flaws again. At all those times when we're forced into a situation we don't want to be in (a place no one wants to be), but simply must go through at one time or another, then there are choices we can make based on our not having any choice.

Unavoidable powerlessness in the face of Fate evokes a deep, personal response in everyone who's ever lived. Suddenly, involuntarily, we discover true humility at it's most profound level. It's thrust upon us when there's no alternative. Nothing can be done except to face the situation standing as firmly as you can on the ground of your most basic being, with all pretense of specialness or entitlement (gratefully) stripped-away.

Ouch. You've been fired. Your Mother is dying. Your boyfriend has betrayed you. A soulless corporation is exploiting you and your pristine world. Your car won't start. Instantly, you are no longer the VP of your company, or untouched by loss, or in a happy relationship, or safe from the unconsciousness of a developer's greed, or getting there on time – you're just a human being, being washed-over by the tsunami of Life – it's very unavoidable erosion suddenly stripping away all of your artifice.

What gifts could possibly be there to meet you, when you're beset upon by these catastrophes? The gift may just be that clear window of self-realization. A realization of the principles which underly personal survival and happiness at their deepest level. You are forced to confront a powerful, more appropriate respect for all life; an unconditional identification with everyone else who's ever been in the same difficult spot; a real understanding of the importance of Love; and a resolve to meet the challenge (and maybe then, all your life) with honesty, openness, and willingness. It's the gift of an involuntary faith that you can only find by becoming profoundly vulnerable.

In the clarity of your resolve to live – to get through it – you might realize that you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. It's not so bad, being a human in pain. This is the moment that you are really alive. Life is showing you what's real. The injury is really a state of grace.

That's what that spiritual presence is (Buddhist "Right Occupation"): compassionate purpose without self-interest. Occupying that difficult, unavoidable place and choosing to reject the imaginary penalties of fear and separation. Recognizing the true medium of Love that flows underneath, within, and through everything; and becoming it's facilitator, it's medium, if you can.

So we occupy these difficult places tentatively, often unwillingly to start, but then we can enter into the pain completely, knowing this too shall pass. Then we can choose to show up for Life with an innate positivity that's made evident in that pure light, made visible to us by being thoroughly broken-open to it. In that difficult place, whatever it might be, we can truly celebrate this delicate condition we all share. We are cycling back to where all love lost will be rediscovered.

Am I suggesting that we seek pain, and enter it willingly? Thanks, but no thanks! But as there isn't much hope of avoiding it, I ask only that you try to recognize what it might be offering you – the chance to occupy that place the best way you possibly can – with Love in your heart; and there to meet another you – the inter-dimensional, spiritual you that's alive within everything you are, and without everything you were "supposed to be."

"The Heart is the centre of the real...the ego is the [human] link between spirit and matter; it is...the knot of radical ignorance...When this knot is cut asunder by proper means you find the centre." "Go back constantly to the question "Who am I?" Tear everything away until only the source of all is left."

Ramana Maharshi


Read about this and much more in the new book: How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying), Wisdom From a Near-Death Survivor is due out early 2018, from Llewellyn Worldwide can be pre-ordered online. The first book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond is available everywhere – but ask for it it at your local bookstore!

Unhitching "I Am" From Whatever Comes Next

I am in a prison of my own design...

Material life is like a vacuum, especially if it comes with lots of attachments. It's easy to get caught up in the common definitions and necessary demands of our lives and completely overlook the truly essential part of it – the part that's always there and never really changes. Our eternal selves need recognition too, you know.

Probably the easiest way to pick out what's part of our eternal self and what isn't, is simply to look at what parts of our lives are always changing and what parts aren't. My hair, and the shape of my face and my body keep changing (dammit). The nature and circumstances of my work life do too, and really always have. My appointments and emergencies come and go; my bills pile up, and then go away (and then come back). In fact, all of the temporary aspects of my life, the externals, have always been continuously changing, even when they haven't appeared to. Trying to control or hang on to these parts of life that change is what sucks you in.

You'll hear Buddhists talking about "attachments," and "selfish cravings," and it can sound a little holier-than-thou, or even kind of cold, like: I am detaching from that, because I don't like it...or like: I am so "spiritual" that I pretend not to want nice things. Sometimes you're perfectly right to wish things to stay the same, like when you say: I am perfectly right to like things just the way they are. While these attachments can lead us away from happiness, the secret to finding a little serene self-realization is right there in the structure of every one of those statements.

It may be obvious that grammar is not my strongest suit, but even my amateur analysis of sentence structure in this case might help open the window up to a wider, more carefree view of Life. Ramana Maharshi, a famous Indian swami, put his finger right on it when he said simply (and I paraphrase): The important part of "I am this or that" is the "I Am" part – it's the "this or that" that is always the problem.

With that helpful foot up from Swami Maharshi I'd like to point out the simple (but very profound) distinction between the start of those statements we make about ourselves – "I am" – and the finish – "this or that" – and what an easy way it is to separate the transitory part that causes a lot of the problems in our lives from the eternal part that's truly essential to our sense of wholeness and happiness. 

"I am hungry; I am an American; I am still waiting to get paid for that job; I am unhappy with my landlord; I am smarter than they are; I am detaching from that; I am very spiritual." What changes and what doesn't in all of those statements? You'll notice the second part, "this or that," is what always changes, or can always change. The first part, "I Am" always stays the same, and just that simply, there's your connection to the eternal.

"What never changes is what is real"    
                   Nisargadatta Maharaj

That "I Am" that never changes is what we all share, the common ground we all spring from and stand upon. It's how we are all the same, the way we can always identify with each other – especially with people who could use a little help, or with difficult people who need understanding. That I Am isn't just the start of our shared human experience, it's the ground of it – a little grammatical door to the actual Source of all this beauty and apparent craziness we all swim in everyday. 

It can not only compassionately connect us to each other, but to all of nature and the universe – all the plants and  animals;  the oceans and the earth – even the stars. It can realistically inform our relationships to one another and to our planet, and help direct a true sense of responsibility for the behaviors we choose and the actions we take. No small trick for such a little bit of grammar, right?

"I am the All. The All came forth from me and the All came into me. Split the wood, and I am there. Turn over the stone, and you will find me."

The Gospel of Thomas, 77 

On a personal level, identifying primarily with "I Am"  can really make our lives a lot easier and more comfortable, especially when you consider what that second half lets us in for. Not only do we usually start separating ourselves from one another when we say "I am this or that," we also open the door to our regrets, fantasies, and sense of self-entitlement: I was our Homecoming Queen; I was the first to use that technique; I am planning on retiring to Bermuda; I am more deserving of that promotion than anyone else.

When we are living in the past (regrets) or in the future (expectations), we're not grounded in the present, where everything actually manifests, including our wholeness and happiness. "I Am" immediately reconnects us to the truthful, important stuff in Life, and appropriately disconnects us from the unnecessary desires, fears, fantasies, conceits, and the like; that emotional quicksand our egos create – our troublesome attachments to the vacuum of the material, so to speak.

Here are a couple things the "I Am" is telling me always, as well as in this very moment: I am a very lucky guy, and, I am going on long enough about this...and that is about to change right now.

 How to Survive Life (and Death), is available from Conari Press, or at all major booksellers (but get it from your local bookshop...)

Cheers&Blessings!