Perception

Perception in spirituality, like in any other part of our daily lives, is critical to whether we grow. How we grow. That being the case, you and I are going to be word nerds. Let’s take the word perceive and the ideas behind it back to the root.

Percipere is the Latin root. The words per and capere mean to take thoroughly. Over time and the evolution of Latin, French and Middle English (long ago I studied Old and Middle English leading to the insight that both are bad pronunciations of Modern German).

Our senses lead us to awareness, according to the dictionaries.

In the case of spiritual perception, we use our senses of taste, smell, touch, hearing and sight. Perceiving with our external senses leads us to internal perceptions. We discover all sorts of wonderful things in our lives and in our world.

We say we can’t see the forest for the trees. The forest and the trees are the same thing. Ever notice? When we think we can’t see the forest for the trees, it’s because we aren’t paying attention. It’s then we need to us our external senses to show us that the forest consists of trees.

We’re not in some spiritual orchard where everything is spaced out in neat rows. All is measured and even. Daily we discover life is messy. It is, as the brilliant saying assures us, perfectly imperfect.

At such points in life we use our spiritual senses to inform us what vision shows. We can see a forest and an orchard. Both are comprised of trees. How each grows is unlike the other.

We can try to neatly order our days. Our lives. With the purpose of bringing a semblance of safety and security to life.

Good luck with that.

Life is messy. It’s uncertain. Even the old saying that the two constants in life being death and taxes is an uncertain statement.

Not everybody pays taxes and I have absolutely no intention of dying. If it was good enough for the prophet Elijah to step onto the chariot of fire, I’m willing to do the same.

This may sound like crazy talk, but it’s not. In various religions over time people have done an Elijah. Each in their own way.

A fool would believe they are another Elijah, which I am not. Nonetheless, as a very imperfect man who has seen life and death, I am quite willing to forego the latter.

There is something else going on that I have seen, heard and otherwise perceived all of my life.

I physically see and communicate with God. I physically see and communicate with angels and demons and souls. Someone who does none of that might guess that puts me closer to God. To having the opportunity to catch a ride of the chariot of fire express.

Hold off on that idea. My experience is very much the opposite.

It’s essential to keep a sense of humor about ourselves if we have even the slightest hope of getting through life. Any thoughts I might have on any subject are for entertainment purposes only. What I think I hear God or the others say to me is not necessarily what is being said. The words may be exactly right. But what I want to hear is not always what is being said.

For which cause it is normal to hear the same ideas over and over. And over again. And still more times. Right up until the point at which my true spiritual perception kicks in. I become able to spiritually take in thoroughly exactly what I was meant to take in.

The lesson becomes the reality.

It becomes fact.

I am told what I need to hear rather than what I want to hear. Regardless of the number of times God and the angels speak to me. Regardless of the times I have told them in reply what I wanted to hear. Like any other human, I make the effort to have what I want to become real actually become real.

It doesn’t work.

For that I am immensely grateful.

When I allow my human senses to overwhelm my spiritual perceptions — what I truly need to know — I am in error. The willingness to back off, to listen as many times as it takes to hear the thoughts I am supposed to hear, saves me.

Literally.

It has led me to slow down on a road where there is suddenly a patch of black ice. It’s led me to check the stove to be certain the gas is turned off. Or the refrigerator is closed. Or if, in conversation with someone who says something I don’t care to hear, my mouth stays closed.

Each is an exercise in using our human senses to perceive wherein lies the Spirit.

Each is a miracle.