From Silence Comes the Answer.
As I've chronicled before, I've been struggling with so far the only question A Course in Miracles never covered that would cast doubt on its entire viewpoint.
That question is "How did I get here in the first place? Who put me here?"
There's only two potential answers I can think of.
I've asked the gods over and over for some kind of answer to this question and got dead silence in return.
Today it hit me. I've stated before for other situations that when you get silence, assume it's the answer you least want to hear, because nobody has any trouble if the truth and what you want are the same. So that led me to go "Hmmmm, of these two answers, which one do I least want to hear?" Well for me, they both stink. It either means I'm a complete idiot, or the gods aren't as sweetness and light as ACIM portrays.
Then I thought further. If I've been a complete idiot, it's no skin off the gods' nose to point that out. They have no reason to withhold that answer since it doesn't reflect on them at all. Which brings us to the second answer...
Why is a very good question. What did I do that was so wrong? Then from somewhere out of the blue a new idea hit me. I can liken this illusionary dimension to a baby's crib.
Let's face it. We're all spiritual infants when it comes down it and maybe all we "know" is only fit to sprinkle on toast. The more I thought about this metaphor, the more it made sense, at least to me. Now to a baby, a crib may seem awfully interesting, at least at first. Hey, look at this stuff. I can push it, pull on it, and look at all the shiny on top and holding this thing up. I've got blankets and toys and my bottle and hey, who could ask for more?
Inevitably though, they catch sight of things outside the crib, out of their grasp. What are those brown things over there?(books) And those other shiny things?(knives) You'd like to get out and examine those things too, but what you once found so interesting(the netting around the crib and the high rim) now prevents that.
Now everyone knows why parents put their babies into cribs. It's for their own protection. After all outside there's knives and electrical sockets and stairs to fall down and toilets to fall into head first and other hazards as well. It's not that they're being malicious or cruel. It's just that until the baby's grown up enough to handle these things on its own safely, the baby needs to be kept from them. This will cause the baby to cry at some point, but it's all for a good cause I suppose.
Of course that does lead to the question just what's out there that looks so shiny from this vantage point that might kill us if we got a hold of it? Personally, I don't know. Obviously if I did, I wouldn't be here.
So until that time when I finally can get out of this crib, there you are.
Come to me my melancholy baby...
That question is "How did I get here in the first place? Who put me here?"
There's only two potential answers I can think of.
- For some reason I came here on my own.(You must be joking)
- The gods put me here.(why?)
I've asked the gods over and over for some kind of answer to this question and got dead silence in return.
Today it hit me. I've stated before for other situations that when you get silence, assume it's the answer you least want to hear, because nobody has any trouble if the truth and what you want are the same. So that led me to go "Hmmmm, of these two answers, which one do I least want to hear?" Well for me, they both stink. It either means I'm a complete idiot, or the gods aren't as sweetness and light as ACIM portrays.
Then I thought further. If I've been a complete idiot, it's no skin off the gods' nose to point that out. They have no reason to withhold that answer since it doesn't reflect on them at all. Which brings us to the second answer...
Why is a very good question. What did I do that was so wrong? Then from somewhere out of the blue a new idea hit me. I can liken this illusionary dimension to a baby's crib.
Let's face it. We're all spiritual infants when it comes down it and maybe all we "know" is only fit to sprinkle on toast. The more I thought about this metaphor, the more it made sense, at least to me. Now to a baby, a crib may seem awfully interesting, at least at first. Hey, look at this stuff. I can push it, pull on it, and look at all the shiny on top and holding this thing up. I've got blankets and toys and my bottle and hey, who could ask for more?
Inevitably though, they catch sight of things outside the crib, out of their grasp. What are those brown things over there?(books) And those other shiny things?(knives) You'd like to get out and examine those things too, but what you once found so interesting(the netting around the crib and the high rim) now prevents that.
Now everyone knows why parents put their babies into cribs. It's for their own protection. After all outside there's knives and electrical sockets and stairs to fall down and toilets to fall into head first and other hazards as well. It's not that they're being malicious or cruel. It's just that until the baby's grown up enough to handle these things on its own safely, the baby needs to be kept from them. This will cause the baby to cry at some point, but it's all for a good cause I suppose.
Of course that does lead to the question just what's out there that looks so shiny from this vantage point that might kill us if we got a hold of it? Personally, I don't know. Obviously if I did, I wouldn't be here.
So until that time when I finally can get out of this crib, there you are.
Come to me my melancholy baby...