There Is a Spiritual Solution to Every Problem

This second aphorism brings to mind the adage that the three truly difficult things to do in life are: returning love for hate; including the excluded; and saying, “I was wrong.” It is the first and most difficult item, returning love for hate, that I want to explore here.

As I was studying the ancient words of Patanjali I came across a reference that implied the following: God cannot express God’s self in you when you are not at peace. As I thought about those words I had a deep realization that God is love. I recognized that it was in a state of stillness that the realization occurred. If it requires stillness to know God, then we need to be in a place of loving calmness in order to be able to have God’s assistance in problem solving. Thus, the most difficult thing to do, to return love for hate, becomes much simpler when we are able to be peaceful because that is actually God expressing God’s self within us.

When we return love for hate we express the peace of God that is within us. Our response has a calm and loving quality. This calmness is a vital aspect of the consciousness that makes it possible to tap into spiritual solutions.

I’ve selected two passages from the Bible to reinforce the relationship between stillness or calmness and God. By taking the scriptural statement and reversing it, we can clearly recognize what happens when we are unable or unwilling to choose stillness. So, “Be anxious, or fearful and you will not know God” is what we have in place of “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

Instead of “God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him” (I John 4:16), we would have “God is fear and he that dwelleth in fear cannot dwell in God, nor God in him.”

Probably you are thinking that this makes sense. God is still. God is love. When I am neither, I have no chance of allowing a spiritual solution to present itself. But how do I get to that place of calmness? I believe you can move into that state of knowing God within through stillness by intentionally choosing calmness in moments of anxiety or fear. Yes, you can choose to be calm at any moment by reminding yourself that you are no longer choosing to live by your conditioned past. It is largely because of our conditioning that we leave God behind when we leave calmness.

We have trained ourselves to be fearful and anxious when presented with problems. If we choose, we can retrain ourselves to be calm and to allow God to express God’s self in us once again. As I discussed in chapter one (#udf1362d2-6210-5009-bab3-b15b4cf444b0), problems begin, unequivocally, in our minds. We may have to remind ourselves that our mind is where the problem exists, nowhere else. Thus the “illusion” which I mentioned earlier. Correct the error, and the illusion disappears. Our conditioning has led us to the error of thinking of ourselves in terms of finite beings.

James Carse, in his book Finite and Infinite Games, describes a world of finite games in which winners and losers, rules, boundaries, and time are all extremely important. In the world of finite games, titles, acquisitions, and prestige are of paramount significance. Planning, strategy, and secrecy are all crucial. To become a master player in the world of finite games you have an audience who knows the rules and who will grant you a reputation. Being identified with losers in the finite game is frightening and dangerous. The finite game values bodies, things, and reputations. The ultimate loss is death.

In his book, Carse explains that the final result of the finite game is self-annihilation because the machines that we invent to assist us in this finite game of winners and losers will destroy those who rely upon them. Technology, marketing, productivity are all terms to encourage players to buy more machines and one’s worth is dependent on how many machines players have and how well they operate them.

There is also the infinite game, which you can begin to play if you so choose. In this game there are no boundaries; the forces are infinite that allow the flowers to grow and those forces cannot be tamed or controlled. The purpose of the infinite game is to get more people to play, to laugh, love, dance and sing. Life itself is infinitely non-understandable. These forces were here before we were and will continue beyond the boundaries of death and time.

While the finite player must debate and learn the language/rules to operate all the machines, the infinite player speaks from the heart and knows that answers are beyond words and explanations. This is not to imply that players of the infinite game cannot also play finite games, it’s just that they don’t know how to take the finite games seriously.

This is a choice. We are in a world where secrecy, competition, fear, and weapons are part of the equipment used to play the finite game of life. We know that the categories of “winner” and “loser” are highly valued. Players who prefer to spend more of their time playing the infinite game also play the finite game. I think the following excerpt from the workbook for A Course in Miracles says it delightfully.

“There is a way of living in the world that is not here, although it seems to be. You do not change appearance, though you smile more frequently. Your forehead is serene; your eyes are quiet. And the ones who walk the world as you do recognize their own. Yet those who have not yet perceived the way will recognize you also, and believe that you are like them, as you were before.”

This is a prescription for knowing the peace of God even when there is the appearance of misery and disease. The choice is to play mostly infinite games, but while playing the finite games, refusing to take them seriously. Others may think you are serious, but you know better. You know you see your world in the terms of an infinite game. You will smile more frequently, you will feel serene, and you will access spiritual solutions.

I will conclude this section with a story told to me by my friend Gary who lives in New York, but was raised and schooled in India. Each year at the completion of the school year in June, Gary’s father sent him to live with a master teacher (guru) in an ashram with many other young boys. Here he would be immersed for a couple of months annually for the purpose of heightening his spiritual awareness. There were two large cabins at this particular ashram, and on the first day of the summer, all the boys were given the following instructions.

“You are to remain in total silence for the first four weeks. No talking at any time. If you break silence even once, you will leave the silent cabin and live in the second cabin where you may talk to your heart’s content for the rest of the summer.”

There was no threat of punishment. Simply leaving the silent cabin was the only consequence of breaking the silence.

Gary told me that he was able to go for about four days without talking the first year. Then off he went to cabin two. In the second year he went approximately ten days, and in the third year he was able to go for two weeks before he finally broke the silence.

About the time of his fifteenth birthday he knew he was going to the ashram and he made an inner commitment that this year he would definitely complete the prescribed time for silence, no matter what. He actually placed tape over his mouth and used other gimmicks to ensure he would not break silence even once. He noted that each year, at the end of the silence month, only two or three boys were still residing in cabin one. And sure enough, finally after years of struggling, Gary completed the month without ever once breaking the silence.

On the last day, the guru came into cabin one and sat down at the kitchen table with Gary and the other two boys who had been able to remain totally silent for the entire designated time period of one month. He tells me that the four of them had the most remarkable experience of communicating that he had ever known. They told each other stories, they laughed, they cried, and they asked each other questions. For several hours they interacted in the most intense conversations Gary had ever experienced. During the entire time of those conversations in which they all communicated intensely and intimately at a deep feeling level, not one single sound was made, not one word was spoken.

You may find it difficult to believe that communication without words or sounds is possible. Yet I know Gary to be truthful, a man of integrity. I leave you to draw your own conclusions. I am convinced that when we become truly illumined, our inner calmness, when taken to an extreme, allows us to transcend reliance on symbols and noise, and to know the peace of God. My conclusion is that we can communicate through our own inner calmness in ways that are infinite rather than finite. Or as Patanjali put it, “the state of perfect yoga can only be entered into when the thought-waves have been stilled.”

Each one of us must find the ways to our own inner stillness. One of my ways is to study a poster that I have on my wall every day. Beneath a beautiful serene blue sky mountain setting are these words from Paramahansa Yogananda: “Calmness is the living breath of God’s immortality in you.” I contemplate this wisdom every day of my life. I would be honored if you write to share with me the ways you have discovered to find your stillness.

THE THIRD APHORISM

Sin is nonexistent. There are only obstacles to one’s ultimate union with God.

Most of us grew up believing that a sin was an act of disobedience or ingratitude toward a God who is both separate and punitive. This aphorism tells us that behaviors and thoughts that violate a commandment that we ideally seek to uphold are offences against our own true nature, which is God. Thus what we perceive to be sinful can be redirected to be viewed as an obstacle to our spiritual development. Patanjali suggests that what we call sin is misdirected energy, which might have been used to find union with God had we not been misled by ignorance.

The word sin has a literal translation of “off the mark.” In this sense, behavior that religion has taught us is sinful is conduct that is off-the-mark or away from God. This, according to Patanjali, is not a reason to immerse ourselves in guilt and use up life energy attempting to somehow make amends. Rather it should be viewed in the context of an obstacle that we have yet to overcome.

When addressing “sinful” behaviors as obstacles we begin to see what it is we must do to access the spiritual solution we seek. When viewed as sin, we place the responsibility for correcting the conduct on a God who is external to us. Thus we hope that this external God will forgive, and we find ourselves laden with guilt and anxiety over whether we deserve to be problem-free. I like these powerful words of Mahatma Gandhi on how to deal with our shortcomings: “My imperfections and failures are as much a blessing from God as my successes and my talents, and I lay them both at his feet.”

Viewing a failure as an invitation to recourse with God is a much more useful way of handling the “problem.” Wallowing in shame, feeling as though we have sinned and are not deserving of forgiveness is not the best way to find solutions! Try this inner dialogue instead: “I have not sinned against God. I have behaved in such a way as to inhibit my complete union with God. These behaviors are obstacles to my finding a spiritual solution. Beginning right now I will work at removing these obstacles from my life.”

The concept of being a sinner is an image of self-contempt and guilt, while the concept of encountering an obstacle is empowering. I love the healing parable of Jesus and the blind man.

As he went along he saw a man blind from birth, his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned? This man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.”

We have been trained to think in terms of sin and punishment. These ideas disempower us by stressing that we are weak and wrong. The empowering way is to view trials as lessons and opportunities to choose differently. We can transcend the odious notion of being sinners cloaked in guilt, awaiting punishment. To access a spiritual solution to a problem involves focusing on the idea of a solution. The sinner filled with guilt becomes immobilized and remains in passive inertia. When we view the sinful behavior as an obstacle to a higher level of awareness, we can still take responsibility by asking ourselves, “What is the lesson for me? And what can I do to avoid this the next time?”

The disciples in the parable assumed that the man’s blindness must have been caused by a sin somewhere by someone involved in this blind man’s life. But Jesus taught that misfortunes in the physical world are not because humans have sinned. The misfortunes are obstacles on the path to uniting with the infinite within us. He reminds them that no sin has taken place.

We are all blind in many ways. It is through our figurative blindness that God’s work can be displayed in our life. It was Mahatma Gandhi among others who preached the value of the dark side. Our dark side and our dark spots are as Gandhi said, a blessing from God, rather than an encumbrance for which we are to be punished. Our conditioned belief system learned the concept of sin.

This “radical” idea teaches the concept of obstacles to unified awareness of God within. If you have violated any of the commandments that you ideally hold on to as law; if you have stolen, cheated, or lied, or coveted or even physically harmed another, try viewing these actions as obstacles to your spiritual union with all that you truly are and can become. Remind yourself that this is what you would love more than anything. Then you will have empowered yourself to begin the process of removing those obstacles.

This is such a freeing concept. Say to yourself, “I still have obstacles that I have imposed which keep me from a spiritual solution,” rather than, “I am a sinner and there is no hope for me unless God sees it in his heart to forgive me.” One thought empowers, while the other diminishes. One thought leads to a solution, the other keeps you immobile. In short, go and sin no more, because there is no such thing.

Even if you have done irreparable wrong to someone through uncontrolled greed, or anger, you can still view this action in terms of obstacles to your union with God. Certainly you will feel remorse and do all that you can to right the wrongful acts. You can only correct such flaws in the future by viewing yourself as having erected barriers to your highest self and by forgiving yourself. Sincere penance does not consist of perpetuating grief for wrongs but in resolving to avoid in the future those deeds that call for remorse.

THE FOURTH APHORISM

The person who is steadfast in abstaining from falsehood has the power to obtain for himself and others the fruits of good deeds, without having to perform the deeds themselves.

Normally when we use the word truthful we infer that a person’s words correspond to the facts of which he speaks. Yet in this yoga sutra, Patanjali’s phrase, “steadfast in abstaining from falsehood,” means something quite apart from being factual and honest.

What is meant here is the practice of completely and wholly identifying oneself as a spiritual being, united with God at all times and never confusing one’s identity with the ego world of possessions, achievements, and reputation. To reach this state is to be in the company of those rare saints whom we all revere and quote so frequently. In this state we can be moving toward steadfast abstention and find ourselves gaining those fruits of good deeds. They will enable us to not only resolve our own “problems” but those of others.

Look carefully at the words used in this sutra. Obtaining for yourself and others the fruits of good deeds without having to perform the deeds. Just what does this mean to you?

Patanjali suggests that steadfast abstention from falsehood means that saying to someone, “God bless you,” means that the person is truly blessed because we are no longer capable of even dreaming an untruth. Similarly, this steadfast abstainer from falsehood can perform miraculous cures by simply telling a sick person that he is well. Thus Patanjali suggests that when a person becomes perfected in truth he literally gains control of truth. That person’s being, along with their words and actions allows them to obtain the fruits of good deeds without necessarily performing the deeds with their physical bodies.

Now I am not offering you sainthood here in exchange for becoming a one-hundred-percent truth teller. Rather, what I am proposing is that you open yourself to an idea that allows you to gradually and steadily remember your identity as a divine spiritual connected-to-God entity. In moments you previously labeled as stressful or problematic, you will begin to see the fruits of good deeds (another way of saying problem solving) show up without having to labor long and hard to solve your difficulty.

The very fact of your self-reminder that you are united with God in this very instant of strife will allow your thoughts and affirmations to become your reality. As you steadily gain this awareness, you will have the same impact on others. In other words, you will be bringing spirit (which is all you are in your awareness) to everyone and everything you encounter, and the fruits of good deeds will be observed on a regular basis. Whenever you find yourself filled with inner frustration or rage, a gentle private reminder to abstain from this false identity with the material world, will bring you back to your true essence. When you are back, notice how the rage and frustration have dissipated. Now use words to bless yourself and the situation, and you begin to see what Patanjali meant with this “radical” aphorism.

As you become more adept at abstaining from falsehood, as defined here, you will bring this kind of calm, peaceful true identity, a connected-to-God countenance, to those in your immediate surroundings. The more steadfast you are in this regard, the more you will hear others say: “I just feel better when she is around.” “I feel calm when he shows up.” “I actually sensed that my discomfort and pain went away when he talked to me.” You literally raise the consciousness of those around you when you are steadfast in your abstention from falsehood. You become a healer without going to healing school. You become a blessing without a degree in divinity. You are obtaining the results of good deeds without having to sweat and work at doing the right thing.

Spirituality is very similar to health. Everyone has health. For some their health is excellent and for others it is poof, yet you cannot escape having it at some level or another. The same is true for spirituality. Every single human being is a spiritual being. We all have spirit. For some their spirituality is high and therefore life-enhancing, loving, peaceful, kind, and at the top of the ladder as I defined it in chapter one (#udf1362d2-6210-5009-bab3-b15b4cf444b0).

The more steadfastly we abstain from false identity the less attached we become to anything that is associated with false identity. As detachment increases, spirituality moves up the ladder that you can never completely climb off, any more than you can step off the health ladder. We begin to see the fruits of good deeds appearing without having to work at it. Ultimately, we are close to the top and find there are others just wanting to bathe a bit in our aura, so to speak.

I think of the story of Martin Luther who impacted the lives of millions by his steadfast abstention from falsehood. Luther never wanted to begin a Reformation. He merely wanted the Catholic Church officials to address some ninety-five questions.

To raise funds for the church, Pope Leo X, a big spender who needed money to build gold-lined palaces and create extensive works of art for the Vatican, sent representatives on a mission to sell indulgences. These indulgences were written statements from the pope excusing individuals for sins in exchange for money. People believed they could buy their way into Heaven. Many were burned at the stake after confessions gained in torturous inquisitions.