On/Off

Whenever I hear anybody tell me they are fascinated with my spiritual abilities, there’s a loud clicking noise inside my head. It’s similar to the sound of throwing a door bolt. Add to that all of the times I’ve heard it said by one person or another that they think I’ve got this all under control.

I have yet to meet any mystic, psychic or other who was born knowing how to control their gift. I’ve met fakes who say that, but not real people who constructively work in the spiritual world every day. It’s like saying you were born a combination of Alexander the Great, Archimedes, Moses, Buddha and Mohammed all rolled into one. With a touch of Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa and Einstein thrown in for good measure.

Spirituality is messy. Nobody flipped the switch when we were created and suddenly made us into spiritual masters. That has been the story of absolutely nobody in the history of time.

Nobody.

Ever.

Anywhere.

For further instruction on the matter, ask God.

Spiritualty is tough. On the one hand, it’s a matter of being open. We get to where we are by willingly allowing ourselves to be broken. Day after day after day. Prayer and meditation are great. They help us get to the point where we’re willing to have our hearts and souls cracked open and shattered into billions upon billions of pieces. Prayer and meditation set us up for the countless times the world hurts us. For all of the times people have said something that has torn us apart. For all of the times the Spirit has put us back together.

It’s a nice idea, thinking we were born with the strength to take whatever the world throws at us. It’s also a lie. Years of being taught by people maybe half a second or millions of years senior to us in spiritual maturity toughens us up.

Sometimes we come at spiritual maturity from a totally unexpected direction. I have had children sit me down to show me how to play games and play with toys. Admittedly, playing with trucks and train sets are my favorite. As I watch children push trains along the tracks or zoom from one room to the next with their cars and trucks, I am taught to cooperate spiritually. To just let go of my adult stuff and loosen up.

To play.

To be spiritual is to let the Spirit play with our souls. To keep our hands away from that internal switch we so love to flip off in order to protect ourselves. Just to leave it in the on position. To let children teach us some spiritual maturity.

The week before the 2022 American elections I was speaking with a man who was absolutely desperate about the situation of American democracy. He lived in fear that it would be torn apart and destroyed if the elections did not go his way. More than that, he was shocked that I wasn’t worried.

Sorry, any of you who might have hoped I was. But, no. I lost any and all hope of controlling the political wills of anybody long ago. When I was young and learned that the Creator really was serious about our free will, both as an idea and lived experience, I also learned that I have no control over how other people vote. Or not. Over what they want for their lives. Or not.

Life hasn’t gone my way for the last seven decades. God hasn’t given into my whims each and every inch of the way.

That’s because the spiritual switch has been on. With the switch flipped on, I get what I’m supposed to get for my soul to grow. Regardless of my material wants. I have warehouses full of material wants and a closet of spiritual life.

I get the closet.

I chose the closet a long time ago. Material things are nice, but they don’t flip my switch. When I walked out of college saying No to a lifetime of material comfort and success, it was because I had already had a teacher who had taught me the meaning of blasting open my soul. A teacher who had shown me the harshness of life in our material world.

But also, the beauty of being shattered. Of sitting in the dark. Of being consumed by the brilliance of Light. Of being nothing devoured by Everything.

That I did not have and would never have all the toys on the block. That what possessed me was greater than material things.

I learned that there would be times in life so hard that I would flip off the switch. That I would feel overwhelmed. That there may be long periods of spiritual drought. And that is just fine.

Those were the words I heard as a boy. Life will be hard. There will be times when you don’t feel like you can do the work. And that is just fine.

Long after that teacher died along with many other teachers, their spiritual presences remain.

The spiritual switch is on.