Why I Believe I Am Connected With God or Spirit
BY ARLENE HARDER, MA, MFT
This self-directed slide show uses inner images from quiet contemplation and meditation to discover insights of love and life that transcend my ego and my rational mind.
When I tell you I sometimes feel touched by a Spirit that seems to be the very essence of life itself, you ask how I can possibly know. How do I answer? I certainly can't prove it.
But perhaps I can describe why I believe it is true by sharing an example of the experiences I've had when I sense this presence most strongly. These are generally times when I have been struggling with a difficult problem and turn inward for guidance, quieting the chattering and conflict of my mind and listening with an open heart in a place I call the center of my being.
In these times of quiet contemplation, meditation, and reflection, I close my eyes and become receptive to whatever images might enter my awareness. As the images appear and disappear, forming and reforming into new images within my inner landscape, it is almost as though the insights I receive are being formed by a source of love and life that transcends my ego and the limits of my normal reasoning.
I begin by relaxing and taking a few very deep breaths. Then, focusing my attention on this moment, I return to my normal breathing and am receptive to whatever images and insights might arise.
For awhile there is no form to what I see, nor do I sense anything more than being aware I am relaxed — and waiting.
Gradually it seems that an image is taking shape, although it is not well defined. Nevertheless, I know somehow that it represents land with hills in the background.
Then I notice the image that has appeared in my mind's eye has become stronger and more defined. Though it is not as clear and sharp as it would be if I were physically in this place, somehow I know that a majestic mountain, a long way off, beckons me to climb.
When I focus my attention on the mountain, I notice it seems closer, giving me the impression that I'm moving in that direction.
I feel pulled toward the mountain, as though the image that's appeared in my mind's eye has a message. However, I sense I must go through some trees before I can reach the base of the mountain. That shouldn't be too hard a task, I think, for I can find my way through the trees if I remember to look up and keep the mountain in sight.
Ferns and moss next to a sweet stream catch my eye. This reminds me of a recent walk and a conversation I had with friends concerning the environment. Why, just yesterday I was reading in the paper that the administration has . . . wait, was it yesterday that the paper didn't come on time, no it was the day before because that was the day I was supposed to go to . . .
Oh dear! My thinking has gotten me off track. Where was I? Oh yes, I was supposed to keep a mountain in sight as I went through a forest, but then my interest in the forest floor got me distracted.
So once more I take a deep breath and relax, receptive to finding a new answer for my problem by allowing images to enter my awareness. Perhaps I will again see or sense a mountain, but I'm open to whatever might happen.
I am pleased that when the next image appears I find myself at the very edge of the forest and the mountain is straight ahead. Maybe the answer to my problem will be found there.
Working my way higher and higher up the mountain isn't easy. Yet with each step I can look below me and know where I have been.
But no matter how high I get, I've never been all the way to the top. In fact, I don't think anyone has ever reached the peak, though I imagine others have made it farther than I have. Nevertheless, I keep climbing.
Suddenly the image of the mountain disappears and in its place I notice beautiful balloons rising high into the sky.
Up and up and up I rise. Now I can see the earth far below. It's a wonderful image because it gives me the sense that I need a new perspective on problems to which I've given more energy than they deserve.
Soon I am far out in space, one speck among billions of stars, galaxies, and planets. They all seem far away, yet near at the same time, and I sense I am somehow a part of them.
I am drawn deeper and deeper into the cosmos when my attention is drawn to a dark spot in the center of rich blues and purples.
The image begins to swirls faster and faster and the blues are broken into many vibrant strands. As I watch, transfixed, I seem to hear a single tone growing stronger and stronger, like a gong being struck with a hammer.
Now something very unusual is happening. Rather than seeing or sensing a picture, I can tell that the sound of the single note has expanded into a collection of notes, unlike any melody I've heard before. Soon a symphony from deep inside fills my soul.
When the music fades, it's replaced with a single light that becomes brighter and brighter.
For several moments I wonder why the image has concentrated all its energy into a single point of light. But then the image forms itself into a brilliant star above a peaceful sea.
The image of the star fades and now I am only aware of the calm, smooth surface of the water . . . and my heart is filled with peace.
The water becomes even more smooth than it had been before and the image of a single fragrant lily appears, floating gently on a very still pond. Without consciously attempting to do so, I "become" that lily. I can feel my roots drawing energy from a generous earth and know my is heart looking toward the sun, absorbing and reflecting the energy of the cosmos.
I don't understand why it happens at this particular point in my meditation, but somehow I know the answer to my problem. And I under why I had previously been unable to find the answer. Because my problem was complex, I had assumed the solution also needed to be complex. Rather, I can see it is quite simple and should be fairly easy to accomplish.
As the image of the lily fades, I sense I have come to the end of my spiritual journey for today. Then, as though given one more gift, I notice the image of a bird flying high overhead. I wonder what its meaning could be.
It is then I remember that a bird can fly because there is wind under its wings. And that is when I understand the gift of this image — I am guided and supported on my journey of life and love by the uplifting source of all these images.
After all the images have faded, I take a deep breath, become aware of the room I am in, and open my eyes.
Wanting to put into practice what I have learned today, I realize it would help if I could find something — some symbol — to remind me of the two insights I've had. One insight is that, despite the hurry and rush of my ordinary life, I can find peace within. The other is that I would do well to look for less complex answers to many problems life places in my path.
That is when I notice a photo on my bookcase. It's a picture of a small boat next to a simple dock. I realize this can be my reminder. When I look at it, I will close my eyes and imagine I am rowing into the middle of a peaceful lake, allowing my soul to be renewed in the quiet calm.
I am fascinated by the evolving images I see and sense when I open my heart and soul in quiet meditation and reflection. It is as though I am receiving a gift from a powerful, yet gentle, source into which I can tap when I want to be creative, to be peaceful, to find a simpler path through life.
Is the source of this experience a creative spirit? Is it a universal consciousness? Is it from my own deep unconscious? Perhaps it is all of that. I know logic — and certainly not my ego — would not have given me the images and insights I've experienced, nor the peace of mind I feel.
So I have come to the conclusion that there is "something" with which I am connected, "something" that touches my heart, "something" that seems to guide me, "something" that is greater than beyond my frail and feeble mind, "something" I choose to call God or Spirit.
[You can see this piece as a self-directed slide show.]
© 2002 Arlene Harder, MA, MFT |
