Dreams and the practice of A Course in Miracles

A few nights ago I had a dream that upset me. I was in Buenos Aires, in one of the nicest avenues, except that in the dream it was grotesquely fancy. The street was lined with designer store fronts that were gilded with gold leaf and the side walk was tiled with white Carrara marble. It was crowded with shoppers carrying Christmas bags. I had just parked my car and I walked carefully carrying two stacked trays of ham and cheese croissant sandwiches and a fruit platter on top. I was taking the food to a meeting at the goodwill offices which were right up the street.

A woman accidentally swung a shopping bag over my trays and they fell to the ground. The croissants and fruit scattered all over. Within seconds, a half a dozen orphan children dressed in rags were diving for the sandwiches and the grapes which still rolled every which way on the crowded sidewalk.

I went up to a little boy of about six who was collecting green grapes in between the people's feet. I helped him pick up a few that had landed under a mail box. I said, "Sweetie, can you wash them before you eat them?" He looked at me with his big sad brown eyes; his face smeared with dirt, and nodded, then kept reaching for more. As I looked up, the shoppers wearing nice clothes and carrying bags with expensive gifts, walked by as if the children did not exist. Some walked around them; others pushed them to the side avoiding eye-contact. Nobody wanted to notice the children. It was as if the integrity of their perfect lives could be preserved ONLY if they didn't look.

When I woke up my eyes were wet. I had a feeling of helplessness that stayed with me even though the dream was over. My instinct was to move away from the pain, just like the shoppers in the dream, but I stayed with it for a few minutes and as soon as I became fully awake the pain left me, instantly.

It is tempting to believe that the circumstances within a dream can have an effect on us. Dreams can be convincingly real and while we sleep, they seem to be the cause of our suffering. For a while, I really believed I was sad because I felt sorry for the orphan children. But once I woke up I realized that in reality, there is no posh street with stores gilded in gold leaf; there are no croissant sandwiches, no indifferent shoppers and no orphan children. Even the character with which I identified in the dream, while she looked like me, in reality, does not exist. The real source of my pain is that I forgot I was dreaming and I got emotionally involved in a non-existent situation.

In the same way, what causes us to suffer in our lives is not what happens to us, but that we believe we are someone we are not. We believe we are separated selves living in the world apart from our Source. In Lesson 5 in the workbook we practice repeating that: "I am never upset for the reason I think." I think I'm upset because some circumstance made me upset, but the real reason I'm upset is that I believe I'm a character in a dream subject to the conditions of the dream.

The practice of A Course in Miracles is about remembering that we are the dreamer and not the character in the dream. Only the dreamer who caused the dream can choose to awaken. The goal of our practice is to get back to the mind of the dreamer because only he can choose to be whole again. But day in and day out instead of learning that we are the cause of the dream and not the victim of it, we give the world power over us by making it the cause of our pain and suffering. Every time we suffer, we demonstrate that the world must be real because it had the power to cause us pain. Only what is real can cause an effect.

The daily practice that can help us decrease our identification with the character in the dream is quite simple. Whenever something upsets us, we stop and look at it. We don't run away from the anxiety or the pain. If we do, we give the dream power and a reality it doesn't have. We first recognize that if we are upset, it must be because we are looking at the problem from the perspective of the character of the dream. The character of the dream believes the world is real and can have an effect on her. The character in the dream is identified with a vulnerable body she thinks she needs to protect. It's pretty scary being a character in a dream and believing the world can strike at any moment. So we look again, but this time instead of looking at the problem from the point of view of the character of the dream, we look at it with the part of our mind that knows our real identity. The Holy Spirit, which is the memory of God within our mind constantly reminds us that we "are at home in God, dreaming of exile but perfectly capable of awakening to reality." (T-10.I.2:1) And while the situation that upset us may not change, the anxiety and pain associated with it will fade because we will, at least temporarily, become aware that we are dreaming and that dreams can have no effect on our true identity.

It's very easy to become invested in the situations of our lives and to believe that by changing the circumstances we can have peace. This is nothing more than a trap. If I knew that waking up would instantly heal all suffering, why would I try to ease the pain by focusing on changing the circumstances? Had I been lucid in my dream of a couple of nights ago, I could have given every orphan child a loving adoptive parent. I could have clothed them and showered them with beautiful Christmas gifts. That would have made the dream much happier. I might have found a temporary feeling of peace and wellbeing like we have in our lives when we get what we want, but that peace is not the perfect peace of God which can only be experienced by knowing who we are in reality.

The practice of ACIM is not concerned with making the dream more pleasant. If the world is an illusion created by the ego to keep us mindless, why would we invest in changing it? As we obsess over global warming, war, poverty and we fear that we might catch the next flu virus, the ego is fulfilling its purpose of keeping us identified with the character in the dream. The Course doesn't tell us what we should or should not do. When we are called to help others, or if we want to champion a cause that we believe in, we should do it, but without joining in the suffering. We can use any activity we choose within the world for the purpose of overcoming the dream. All professions, causes and activities are equally suitable for that purpose.

What we don't want to do is focus on changing the circumstances because as long as we do, our investment will be on keeping the dream real rather than on waking from it. What we are here to demonstrate is that the dream can have no effect on the peace of God in our mind. Whenever I feel stress or anxiety, I look at my investment in the dream which shows up as attachment to outcome. Do I 'need' for a situation to be resolved in a certain way for me to experience peace? Whenever I notice a need, I can be sure I am looking at the situation from the perspective of the character in the dream whose happiness depends on the circumstances of the dream.

Once we make the shift from identifying with the character in the dream to looking at the world from the perspective of the mind, everything changes. If someone attacks me, I don't blame her because in the attack I recognize that like me, she is just trying to hold on to her false identity. I begin to realize that we are all the same. We all fear awakening from the dream. We all cling desperately to our false identities because they are all we know.

But the more we practice looking at our guilt and fear, which show up in the world in symbols such as orphan children, suffering victims of natural disasters, war, etc., and we recognize that what we are seeing is just a picture of the fear in our minds, we begin to awaken to our true identity. Progressively we experience more and more of the peace that is our natural inheritance.

 

From the section entitled "The Hero of the Dream." T-27.VIII.9: 1-8 In gentle laughter does the Holy Spirit perceive the cause, and looks not to effects. How else could He correct your error, who have overlooked the cause entirely? He bids you bring each terrible effect to Him that you may look together on its foolish cause and laugh with Him a while. [You] judge effects, but [He] has judged their cause. And by His judgment are effects removed. Perhaps you come in tears. But hear Him say, "My brother, holy Son of God, behold your idle dream, in which this could occur." And you will leave the holy instant with your laughter and your brother's joined with His.

 

 

The ego’s sense of ‘self’ and the need to defend

"You're a liar. You say one thing and then you say the opposite to someone else. You are the biggest fake," she says to me.

My reaction is instantaneous. Outrage. I feel misunderstood and I notice the strong 'need' to defend myself. I'm not a liar! I want to say. It's actually just the opposite. I may not be consistent in form (what I do and say) but that's because I try to act consistently with the content of my mind. Whenever I'm conscious, I try to respond from a loving space. Love inspires you to say what is most helpful and sometimes the most loving thing to do is to talk in their language and at their level; even if that means that what you're saying is not necessarily what you would believe.

I want to correct her, but I don't speak just yet. I pause instead.

I remember this section in ACIM:

When you correct a brother, you are telling him that he is wrong. He may be making no sense at the time, and it is certain that, if he is speaking from the ego, he will not be making sense. But your task is still to tell him he is right. You do not tell him this verbally, if he is speaking foolishly. He needs correction at another level, because his error is at another level. He is still right, because he is a Son of God. His ego is always wrong, no matter what it says or does. T-9.III.4:2-10

I realize that the goal of this interaction with my daughter is to tell her she is right, not necessarily verbally, but mentally. I remind myself that the goal of communication is never what is being said! The purpose of any conversation is either to join or to separate; to reinforce the dream of separation or to undo it. If you talk with your ego you will be unconsciously seeking separation. The opposition that you feel will be telling them they are wrong and you will be reinforcing the differences between you. It won't matter what you actually say, even if your words sound patient and loving, mentally, you will be telling them that they are wrong.

If I respond to my daughter out of a desire to correct her image of me, I will be doing it as an ego. This doesn't mean that I should never explain to her the way I think and act; it just means that I can't do it out of a 'need' to defend my 'self'.

As egos, our goal is to develop and protect our sense of self. We depend on our self-concept because as long as we believe we are unique separated selves, we remain safe from the knowledge of who we are in reality. The ego's strategy is to keep us focused on the question "Who am I?" As long as we look for the answer in the world; in what we look like, what we do, what religion we practice, what language we speak, who our friends are; we are effectively hidden from the knowledge that we are not a body, but one with our Source.

I see that my daughter's claim about me is just a temptation to react in a way that will reaffirm my identity as my separated self. But the situation has the potential to be an opportunity to release myself from my identification with the ego. The choice is mine. The ego's knee jerk reaction is to oppose and protect my 'self', my group, my country, my beliefs, my version of A Course in Miracles, or whatever it is that defines me as different.

But if I am able to just notice what is going on; if I can see the ego's purpose in every interaction, then I can do something about it. The truth is that I'm being played by my own hidden desire to remain separate. I'm not really upset because of my daughter's accusation. I'm upset because I believe I'm an ego that needs to maintain its sense of individuality by opposing everything and everyone.

Having identified the ego's purpose for this interaction with my daughter, I am free to choose again. As I notice my desire to oppose her, the interaction becomes a classroom in which the goal is to learn that I am a mind and not a body. As I join with the forgiving part of my mind, the opposition melts away. The desire to protect my 'self' disappears because I'm no longer identifying myself with the body who has an ego that needs to protect itself.

Through forgiving eyes, I realize her accusation is true. I search my mind and in less than five seconds, I find several examples in my life where Aileen has lied, or been inconsistent. Now that the desire to protect my ego has dissolved, I can wholeheartedly agree with my daughter.

"You're right, honey," I say. "I'm trying to be consistent, but it doesn't always work."

Her face fills with understanding.

There is such freedom in releasing myself, even for a moment, from a limited, defined sense of "self!" All that energy spent in defense and opposition is released and I feel light, happier. I remember that phrase from the Course "Do you prefer that you be right or happy?" and I definitely prefer to be wrong and "happy."

 

Teaching and learning. What will you teach: Peace or Conflict?

A Course in Miracles makes it clear that we can't help but teach. Most of us don't teach in front of a group or classroom, or write books or make movies that teach, but whether we are aware of it or not, we always teach.

….teaching is a constant process; it goes on every moment of the day..... To teach is to demonstrate. There are only two thought systems, and you demonstrate that you believe one or the other is true all the time. From your demonstration others learn, and so do you…..Any situation must be to you a chance to teach others what you are, and what they are to you." (T-Intro.1.6;2.1)

What we teach -- the content of our lessons -- is who we think we are at any given moment, not what we say or what we do.

We may be teaching a child how to tie his shoe, or we may be giving directions to a stranger on the street, or we may be listening to a friend who is in need. In all three cases it appears as if the goal of the interaction is to help, or to convey some kind of information. At the level of the body, this is true. But at the level of mind, there is an underlying purpose to every interaction and that is to either teach peace or conflict; we either support the dream of separation or undo it.

When we identify with the right mind, which is the memory of our perfect oneness with God, we identify with Spirit and Love. As One, we can't help but teach the Peace of God. When we choose to identify ourselves with the ego, we believe we are separate bodies with individual personalities subject to pain and suffering. When we choose the ego, we can't help but judge. Judgment separates us from others. It creates hierarchies that stand in the way of our perception of Oneness. By judging others, even in our most casual conversations the ego actively seeks to reinforce the dream of separation.

Even at the level of the most casual encounter, it is possible for two people to lose sight of separate interests, if only for a moment. That moment is enough. Salvation has come. (M-3.2.6)

Whatever you teach; peace or conflict, you teach also to yourself because you are strengthening it by sharing it with others.

"Everything you teach you are learning. Teach only love, and learn that love is yours and you are love." (T-6.III.4.8)

We can't hope to be helpful to someone who is in pain while we are identifying ourselves with the ego. As egos we harm instead of heal. Instead of looking at the problem from 'above the battleground,' we identify with people's problems and make them real for them and for ourselves. Our most loving attempts at being helpful will fail because the underlying message we give them is that the world of separation is real and therefore their pain is justified.

The simplicity of this very basic message from the Course became clear to me about a year ago when an old friend called me late one night. We only speak a couple of times a year and it's usually when he is hurt and depressed. Stephen suffers from depression. He takes antidepressants which, as he describes, only take the edge off the pain, but help him stay alive.

As we began to chat, even though he did not say it right away, I could tell that he wasn't well. I've told him to call me when he feels he's at risk of killing himself. The feeling I had was that this was one of those nights where he was considering whether he should stay or go. When he gets into these episodes, the pain feels so intense and real, he sees suicide as the only way to end it.

Stephen's problem is that he feels alone. His relationships seem to fail over and over again and he is tired of feeling lonely. He looks at the world through a thick layer of pain and suffering and the world proves to him on a daily basis that love is not real, and that people are not dependable. He is convinced he will never be happy. Every time we chat he offers proof that suffering is real. He will tell you with a straight face, that if he found the right companion who loved him, life would be different for him and he would have a chance to be happy. His misery has become a part of his identity and he is not willing to let it go.

As I listen, a part of me would love to 'fix' him. I would like to share what I've learned over the last seventeen years of practicing A Course in Miracles. I would love to shake him up a bit and impress on him that his life is just a story that he is making up. I'd like to explain how his feelings come from his interpretations and not from what is actually happening in his life. I'd like to share with him that happiness comes from within and that no circumstances can bring him lasting joy and peace. And while I'm at it, I would love to teach him the forgiveness of A Course in Miracles because it would really turn his life around. More than anything, I would like him to know that he has a choice.

The problem is that the "I" that wants and needs so desperately to help Stephen stay alive, is my ego. Over our twenty year friendship, I have to admit that I have tried to throw hints at him. Of course nothing I say ever seems to help. Only now do I understand why. The ego is not capable of helping because masked behind sweet well-meaning words; the only gift it can offer is separation. Stephen is not happy because he feels separated. So how could I possibly be helpful if I mentally reinforce his dream of separation?

There is NOTHING wrong with helping people in need, or joining a cause, or whatever it is we feel inclined to do in the world to help others. The problem comes when, for example, we join a cause because we feel an investment to help. Through the ego's eyes, we must have decided first that the world is real, and that suffering is real. Real help is not possible from the standpoint of separation. While we may be helpful at the level of form, we won't be offering the only lasting kind of help, which is the help that withdraws identification from the dream of separation. As long as we help with the ego we will be doing what the Course calls 'forgiveness to destroy.' The only way we can help is by teaching peace to ourselves first and then extending it.

As I listened to Stephen a year ago, having noticed the subtle ego involvement in my listening, I somehow let it go. As I let go of my ego I become fully present with him. Because there is no movement in my mind, no need to be helpful, no chatter, I can actually hear what he's saying. He tells me about another failed relationship and of the pain he feels. But beyond the story, I hear a call for love. As judgment ceases the perfect love that is always there, becomes manifest. There are no reactions, no judgments, no comparisons, and no investments. His words pass through my mind unobstructed, as flour through a sifter. There is nothing real to hold on to. I see him as he is, without his story.

He tells me he's thinking about killing himself. I hear him say it, but there is no pain; no desire to keep him here because it's so clear that he is not that body. He is Love.

When I speak, the words are not measured or calculated to produce an effect. Love inspires the words and what comes out of my mouth feels natural. I ask him if he thinks killing himself will really end the pain. He doesn't know that, he says. What if it doesn't?

We talk for over an hour. I allow him to take the conversation where he wants to. My ego's agenda is not manipulating the conversation. Finally, he says that he feels good now. He's tired and should go to bed. "I really feel good," he repeats.

As we hang up I feel Joy. This is what the practice of this Course is about. I'm beginning to see what it means when it says that "my only function is to accept the Atonement for myself." It's not with words that we teach, it's not with hands that we heal. All we do is ask for help to see things as they are in reality and having made the choice for what is peaceful and permanent, we demonstrate that the Christ is real and that there is a real alternative to the dream of suffering.

When you accept a miracle, you do not add your dream of fear to one that is already being dreamed. Without support, the dream will fade away without effects. For it is your support that strengthens it. T-28.III.1.6