Resistance and Listening to One Voice

Since I came back from the School for the Work, I haven't experienced resistance. Resistance is that heavy feeling I used to feel when what I was doing did not match what I thought I should be doing. I felt resistance often. If I had chores to do or a project to complete, I thought about them often during the day and I felt badly because I wasn't doing them when I thought I should. Some things I never did at all and the thought that I should have weighed me down.

For the last three weeks, my days have been flowing effortlessly. I wake up in the morning and wait. I may have a thought about what I will be doing during the day. There may even be a plan or a schedule; but plans, schedules, and ideas are just images that pop into my mind. My mind now understands that they are not real. I don't expect anything to happen until I'm actually doing it.

I notice I'm getting up. I stand and start walking. I follow my body to where it is going. If it's morning a thought may say "you're going to brush your teeth," and it seems likely that that is what I'm going to do, but I don't know for sure until my hand picks up the tooth brush and I'm brushing my teeth. I hear plans: "You should go to the grocery store," or "you should go to your yoga class." To these ideas my mind automatically responds: "that's a nice story…," because I know that ideas about what I should be doing are just that; ideas. I only know they are true when I'm pushing the cart into the supermarket or I'm laying down my yoga mat on the floor. My mind is in a perpetual state of not knowing.

There is a force within me that guides every move I make from the moment I wake up until I go to bed at night. I'm being lived. My only job is to trust that everything will happen as it should without my control. That trust increases daily as I witness how everything is taken care of perfectly and at exactly the right time.

I have somehow surrendered what I used to think was my own will and I'm living in harmony with the script as it comes. It's like watching a movie in which I'm temporarily identified with one of the characters. I'm looking at the script from a particular point of view, but I have no choice as to what will happen in the movie. The scrip with all its possible variations has already been written. The movie has been filmed. I'm just a spectator. The idea that I could have ever believed that I wrote my own script as I went along seems crazy now. I'm pretty sure that most of my suffering came from that one belief.

Experiencing no resistance means that whatever I'm doing is what I want to do. There are no "shoulds" or "shouldn'ts" and no wishes or regrets. Occasionally, there is a thought that opposes what I'm doing, or a judgment thought that creeps in, but it has so little glue that it doesn't stick. These thoughts remind me of how painful life use to be when I believed in them. For these thoughts, I carry a notebook where I write down the thought as it happens and later inquire into its reality using the The Work or, I simply watch the thought as it passes through my mind with a smile on my face as I've been doing for years through my practice of A Course in Miracles.

Thoughts and stories are beautiful! They keep me company. I thank them as they pass for keeping me entertained, but it is clear that they are just stories. I sometimes daydream about how much I might actually get accomplished in this life now that there is no resistance. But then I laugh because I have no idea what it is that I will accomplish. How can I know what I will be doing in ten years when I don't know what I will do in the next five minutes? I laugh because so far this unending source of energy has kept me organizing closets and letting go of bags and bags of stuff I don't seem to need anymore. I wouldn't trade my daily work in the house for anything. I'm having the time of my life. One day I re-potted all my house plants and planted a vegetable garden. I get excited about cooking new things and mixing foods I never knew could be mixed. I enjoy every minute I get to spend with my children. I don't seem to get tired. I yawn and lie down at times, but I haven't yet felt that feeling I used to get when I couldn't wait another minute to take a nap or to go to bed at night.

As I look back at my life prior to this shift, I see that I always did exactly what I was supposed to do in the exact moment I should be doing it. The anxiety I frequently felt was caused by my mind being at odds with what I was doing. My mind had its own ideas of what was right or wrong. It offered constant commentary on everything. If I was tired and slept in, my mind threw a fit because it thought I should be getting up and being more 'productive.' If my back hurt, it was upset because it thought it shouldn't hurt. If I ate too much, it felt guilty because it thought I shouldn't be eating so much. If I was depressed, it thought I should snap out of it.

What happened in my life was my path and though at the time I didn't always realize it, I followed it perfectly. Even what seemed like setbacks to my judging mind; was all necessary and part of a perfectly crafted curriculum. Every problem, every upset, every shred of anxiety and all the resistance I felt were gifts. They reminded me to forgive. Without them I couldn't be where I am.

My only function is and has always been to be in harmony with what is. As long as we argue with reality, we will experience resistance. If we fight resistance we reinforce the false suffering self in us. When we plow through resistance what we are saying is that we know better. And as long as we think we know better, we can't hear the true voice of our integrity.

This does not mean we don't take action; it simply means we don't get invested mentally in avoiding what is. Our purpose is to find joy in whatever it is that we are doing. Sometimes that is not available. The practice that led me to the shift I experienced was that of looking at resistance without judgment. That is forgiveness. It's forgiving yourself for reacting to your thoughts. It's forgiving yourself for making what is illusory, real.

Forgiveness is looking at the ego without judgment

As most of us who’ve studied A Course in Miracles for a while know, forgiveness is its central teaching. It is this practice which helps us, one situation at a time; withdraw our identification with the ego thought system so that we can become aware of our true Self as one Son of God.

As we become committed to the practice of forgiveness, we gradually begin to see everything through its lens. Forgiveness does not require us to do anything differently; it's simply an awareness that looks on what is happening and gently reminds us that what we’re seeing is not real. As Kenneth Wapnick often says, forgiveness is “looking at the ego without judgment.”

For the longest time as a student of the Course I didn’t know how to do this or what it meant. The intellectual understanding of it is helpful to a point, but it’s the practice that brings us the Peace which is our goal as students of the Course. I recently had a day in which I became especially aware of how forgiveness was operating in my mind.

Flying home from a workshop, I wrote in my journal about healing as a shift in perception. I wrote that to be able to experience a healing perception, it’s imperative to let go of the desire to be healed because if we allow the disease or the pain to take our peace we give it power over us by making it real.

As the plane begins its descent a strong feeling of nausea takes over me. In an instant it takes my sense of well-being and peace away. ALL I want is to get rid of this awful feeling.

For a second, I mentally laugh at myself. I realize that I’m not practicing what I just wrote in my journal. I’m feeling sick and I find it impossible to let go of my desire to be well.

When the flight attendant walks by, I call her attention and beg her for a diet coke. I don’t usually drink soda, but in my mind, that coke is going to settle my stomach. (My mother used to put it down a clogged drain, so it has to work on my stomach.)

As I wait for the coke I breathe in and out slowly noticing the nausea and praying I don’t lose it on the guy next to me who is engrossed in a bestselling thriller, completely oblivious to the colorful possibilities. Though I’m not at peace and I have not been able to let go of my attachment to the desire to feel well, I notice that I’m not condemning myself for it either. A part of me has been watching myself indulge in full body-identification without guilt. I’m not trying to change anything. I'm simply watching my ego act like an ego, but I'm not judging. I’m forgiving myself.

It’s as if I were watching the situation on a movie screen. The script has already been written. What’s going to happen is inevitable. Or maybe it’s one of those movies with several possible endings………but all of them have already been filmed. Will drinking a cup of coke help Aileen? Will she or will she not lose it on her seat? How will her neighbor react?

Though the script will unfold as it must, I become aware that though I don’t have control over the ending, I do have one choice. My choice is who I invite to sit next to me to watch the movie with me. It’s either Jesus (or the Holy Spirit), as a symbol of my right mind, or the ego.

Whenever we watch our movie with the ego, we're not really watching it anymore – we're in it, fully identified with the character on the screen. We’ve completely forgotten this is a movie and we think it’s all real and VERY serious. When we identify with the ego, we are the ego. There is no longer that forgiving perspective; we just react to the events of our lives. There is no space or awareness between what happens and our reaction.

It’s only when I watch my movie with Jesus that I gain this forgiving perspective. He’s the one who tells me…. Don’t take it so seriously, it’s just a movie…. and you’ve made it all up because you’re afraid of my Love…….

The coke comes. I drink it slowly and magically the feeling goes away as if it never happened. It served its purpose and now it’s gone.

Just a couple of hours later, I’m at my son’s last high school baseball game. He bats fourth, and it’s his turn to bat. After a couple of practice swings, he’s ready.

He has had a tremendous season. He’s ranked in the county, first in his league. Every at bat counts. There’s a guy in first base and two outs and as he swings, I mentally take a step back and I become aware of how much I want him to hit the ball. I can taste the elation of it flying high above the third baseman for a double. My peace and happiness at that moment are totally dependent on his hitting the ball – not for me, but because I want him to be happy.

He swings in the air and misses the ball completely. I feel it in my gut.

My son is ready to hit again and again I notice how much I want him to hit the ball. I’m totally attached to the outcome of this at bat. I WANT to see him running to first base. If I could will him there, I would.

Yet, I’m still watching my movie with Jesus next to me and I’m fully aware that this desire, like any want or desire in the world is costing me the Peace of God.

He swings and misses again.

He swings a third time and for the first time this season, he strikes out. I see a brief wave of disappointment cross his face and a part of me sinks.

As he’s walking back to the dugout, I mentally ask for a change in perception. I can feel how much this desire has cost me. But as much as I ask for a shift in perception – as much as I’m paying lip service to wanting peace – I know that on this day at this moment, I don’t really want it. I notice it in my body. It’s subtle, like drizzle slowly showering my skin. It’s fear. It has a soft paralyzing effect – like the inset of a panic attack.

It’s fear of not having a body that can go to baseball games. This is fun, I tell myself. It’s also insane! And I sort of see that, but having emotions is fun. I’m addicted to the uncertain, to the ups and downs of life. I see clearly how we are all confused when we believe we are enjoying what is really the excruciating pain of being separated from Love.

This fear we all encounter as we progress in the practice of this Course, is what the Course calls resistance. It's the secret wish not to make progress. It's resistance to the Love of God which we think will swallow up our individuality. This fear is inevitable because while our right mind is committed to the Course, the ego is terrified of our progress. To the ego our success is its demise.

Chapter 30 tells us that if we find resistance strong we should not "fight it.” So I don’t fight it. With Jesus still at my side, I simply watch myself not want the peace of God. Forgiveness is stepping back and watching ourselves choose the ego without judging ourselves for it. Jesus says that forgiveness “is still and quietly does nothing….It merely looks and waits, and judges not.” (W-pII 1: 4:1-3)

Through the lens of forgiveness we can look at ourselves with kindness, compassion and love because with Jesus at our side we are able to see that none of the feelings we’re feeling through our temporary identification with the ego are real. No situation has had any effect on Who we really are. We remain One innocent Son.

With Jesus holding my hand, I watch Aileen on the movie screen suffer because she loves being a body watching her son on his last high school baseball game. I watch her fear – her resistance to Love. And I forgive her for wanting this human experience so much.