Jim Raleigh lay strapped to a metal table, convinced he was Jesus Christ. As Jesus, he knew his mental powers could break the straps, but when the straps stayed put, he concluded he must be just one of Jesus’ helpers. Jim has manic depression, also called bipolar disorder. He was institutionalized 14 times before he starting gaining control of his erratic moods, which swung between excited mania and desperate depression. On a trip to the mall with the mental ward group, Jim noticed a book called Love is Letting Go of Fear. Having no money, he slipped the book into his pocket, unaware that the principles of A Course in Miracles contained within would heal his life.
Years later, now stable and at peace, Jim Raleigh has written Mania or Miracles? The Gifts of Being a Manic Depressive Personality. Jim is a courageous man, willing to expose his vulnerability simply to help others suffering with mental illness. He has the chutzpah to challenge standard mental health dogma, which states that biochemistry is the primary cause of mental illness, therefore, medication is the primary treatment. Jim purports that the fearful mind is the source and cause of illness, and credits A Course in Miracles for his recovery. Alcoholics Anonymous and Twelve Step groups have always emphasized the centrality of Spirit in the healing of addictions, but the mental health community has been slow to catch on to its relevance in mood disorders.
Jim writes: “The answer to my lack of self-control was the realization that the source of my anger was within my mind, but peace was also there. It was up to me to choose anger or peace. Choosing my thoughts determined my external world. The drugs, the therapy, or my choice of environment were just small parts of acquiring the stillness in my mind; the most important process was the choice of my thoughts. How does the racing mind slow itself to rediscover that the answers are already there? We just need to ask the right questions and train the mind to listen, and not wander off before the answer is provided.”
The answer provided is love, the mind’s release of its fearful sense of separation from Spirit, the recognition that we are totally loved, and that we are love itself. The inner voice of love speaks to all of us, all the time, if we but listen.
Jim’s journey is fascinating, and a must-read for individuals and their families recovering from mental illness and substance abuse. (Jim also became alcoholic because he self-medicated in a frantic attempt to tame his manic mind.) Jim is one of the 20% of manic-depressives who live successfully, as he describes, “beyond the cope.” Sadly, another 20% commit suicide from this devastating disorder.
As a mental health and substance abuse professional, I applaud Jim’s efforts to transform the face of mental health by bringing spiritual truth to the table. Mania or Miracles is available from http://www.amazon.com. Jim Raleigh is A Course in Miracles student and group facilitator, who can be reached at jimdraleigh@yahoo.com.
MIRACLE MUSINGS based on A Course in Miracles
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
How Could This Happen? The Penn State Scandal from the Perspective of A Course in Miracles
By the Book. That’s the name of Joe Paterno’s autobiography. How, then, could someone revered as an icon of integrity, honesty and morality turn a blind eye to years of alleged rape happening in his own locker room? Joe reported a sexual abuse incident to his athletic director. He did what he was legally obligated to do. He went by the book.
Jerry Sandusky allegedly sexually abused dozens of young boys, luring them in with the glamour of Penn State football. He is seen as a sick pervert who set up a charity to prey on vulnerable kids. Viewed with compassion, though, he can be seen as someone who cares about children so much that he set up a charity for the underprivileged. However, since he also probably felt unspeakable shame for his actions, perhaps in his mind his charity partially atoned for his guilt. The lives he helped somehow offset the lives he destroyed.
We don’t know how Sandusky and Paterno rationalized their behavior. They likely harbored guilt for years and it finally crashed down on them. The Penn State giant has toppled, and if we’re honest, we have to admit that part of us relishes it. As the giant bleeds we feel secret relief, an expiation of our own personal guilt, the darkness we’ve hidden. To minimize our guilt we compare. “At least I’m not that bad—I would have gone to the police. I’ve only fooled around a bit on the side—I would never rape little kids.” As long as we proclaim others guilty, we don’t have to look at our own guilt. They become our scapegoats, our sacrificial lambs that keep us safe as we hide in our false sense of innocence.
We all make excuses. We know we’re doing it because we feel that twinge inside.
When we do something wrong we feel guilty, and like the criminal who returns to the scene of the crime secretly hoping to get caught, internalized guilt demands punishment. We evade our guilt with addictions such as drinking, overeating and facebooking. Perhaps we feel guilty about something wrong we did, someone we hurt, or, as in Paterno’s case, we failed to act when we should have. Joe Pa is every man. Jerry Sandusky is every man. We are all Joe Paterno and Jerry Sandusky.
An oft-heard phrase is, “How could this have happened?” But the opposite is closer to the truth. How could this not have happened? In 25 years as a psychotherapist, the most comprehensive thought system I’ve found to explain human behavior is A Course in Miracles. It states that guilt is the prime motivator for virtually all human behavior, even those behaviors that appear loving on the surface. The source of our guilt is that we mistakenly identify ourselves as separate bodies, rather than recognize the oneness of humanity. We are spirit, but when we believe we are separate we must compete, compare and capture our piece of the pie. The world’s resources are scarce, so when one person gets something it’s necessarily stripped from someone else. Everything we do is done to get something from someone else, even when we think we’re doing things from love.
Tribal allegiance is normally seen as a healthy source of pride. Yet A Course in Miracles challenges this assumption and states we form relationships to make us feel special and ward off our inherit sense of unworthiness and guilt. This dynamic is seen in the cheer “We are Penn State!” As Joe Pa comforted his supporters from his living room window he reiterated the pride of the lions’ motto. “We are Penn State!” This means we are Penn State and you’re not. This means we are better than you. This means our share of the goods is bigger than yours.
Joe Pa’s self worth was tied to his image as the venerable icon of a respected empire. Until he testifies, we won’t know what he was thinking, but it could have been along these lines. “I’ve given my blood, sweat and tears to this program, and no one is going to tarnish Penn State’s reputation. If my defensive coordinator quietly retires he won’t stain our image. After all, I’m paid to keep Penn State on top, therefore I’m doing my job.”
No matter how much we rationalize, though, when we don’t face our guilt, make changes, and forgive ourselves, our shame must inevitably return to haunt us. Our world crashes down on us as we are fired, get divorced, file bankruptcy, etc. Joe Pa’s legacy is forever marred by ignominy, and children’s lives have been shattered.
Since the tragedy has already happened, however, A Course in Miracles offers a way out of the mess Penn State’s in—forgiveness. A Course in Miracles reminds us that we are lovable by virtue of being human, not by anything we have achieved. Conversely, we are lovable in spite of anything we’ve done. Sexual abuse is inexcusable but not unforgivable. Forgiveness does not mean that Jerry Sandusky should walk if he’s found guilty. Forgiveness means we look at the love in him, the part that really does care about kids. We help him heal the shame that led him to attack the very kids he cares for. We help him see that the love and power he tried to get from these kids is available by loving himself first. If Jerry had loved himself, he would never have hurt those children. If Joe Pa had fully loved himself he would never have pursued success at any cost.
Everyone in this tragedy needs love and forgiveness—the children as well as Penn State administrators, Joe Paterno, and Jerry Sandusky. No one heals while guilt and hatred find a home in his heart.
Jerry Sandusky allegedly sexually abused dozens of young boys, luring them in with the glamour of Penn State football. He is seen as a sick pervert who set up a charity to prey on vulnerable kids. Viewed with compassion, though, he can be seen as someone who cares about children so much that he set up a charity for the underprivileged. However, since he also probably felt unspeakable shame for his actions, perhaps in his mind his charity partially atoned for his guilt. The lives he helped somehow offset the lives he destroyed.
We don’t know how Sandusky and Paterno rationalized their behavior. They likely harbored guilt for years and it finally crashed down on them. The Penn State giant has toppled, and if we’re honest, we have to admit that part of us relishes it. As the giant bleeds we feel secret relief, an expiation of our own personal guilt, the darkness we’ve hidden. To minimize our guilt we compare. “At least I’m not that bad—I would have gone to the police. I’ve only fooled around a bit on the side—I would never rape little kids.” As long as we proclaim others guilty, we don’t have to look at our own guilt. They become our scapegoats, our sacrificial lambs that keep us safe as we hide in our false sense of innocence.
We all make excuses. We know we’re doing it because we feel that twinge inside.
When we do something wrong we feel guilty, and like the criminal who returns to the scene of the crime secretly hoping to get caught, internalized guilt demands punishment. We evade our guilt with addictions such as drinking, overeating and facebooking. Perhaps we feel guilty about something wrong we did, someone we hurt, or, as in Paterno’s case, we failed to act when we should have. Joe Pa is every man. Jerry Sandusky is every man. We are all Joe Paterno and Jerry Sandusky.
An oft-heard phrase is, “How could this have happened?” But the opposite is closer to the truth. How could this not have happened? In 25 years as a psychotherapist, the most comprehensive thought system I’ve found to explain human behavior is A Course in Miracles. It states that guilt is the prime motivator for virtually all human behavior, even those behaviors that appear loving on the surface. The source of our guilt is that we mistakenly identify ourselves as separate bodies, rather than recognize the oneness of humanity. We are spirit, but when we believe we are separate we must compete, compare and capture our piece of the pie. The world’s resources are scarce, so when one person gets something it’s necessarily stripped from someone else. Everything we do is done to get something from someone else, even when we think we’re doing things from love.
Tribal allegiance is normally seen as a healthy source of pride. Yet A Course in Miracles challenges this assumption and states we form relationships to make us feel special and ward off our inherit sense of unworthiness and guilt. This dynamic is seen in the cheer “We are Penn State!” As Joe Pa comforted his supporters from his living room window he reiterated the pride of the lions’ motto. “We are Penn State!” This means we are Penn State and you’re not. This means we are better than you. This means our share of the goods is bigger than yours.
Joe Pa’s self worth was tied to his image as the venerable icon of a respected empire. Until he testifies, we won’t know what he was thinking, but it could have been along these lines. “I’ve given my blood, sweat and tears to this program, and no one is going to tarnish Penn State’s reputation. If my defensive coordinator quietly retires he won’t stain our image. After all, I’m paid to keep Penn State on top, therefore I’m doing my job.”
No matter how much we rationalize, though, when we don’t face our guilt, make changes, and forgive ourselves, our shame must inevitably return to haunt us. Our world crashes down on us as we are fired, get divorced, file bankruptcy, etc. Joe Pa’s legacy is forever marred by ignominy, and children’s lives have been shattered.
Since the tragedy has already happened, however, A Course in Miracles offers a way out of the mess Penn State’s in—forgiveness. A Course in Miracles reminds us that we are lovable by virtue of being human, not by anything we have achieved. Conversely, we are lovable in spite of anything we’ve done. Sexual abuse is inexcusable but not unforgivable. Forgiveness does not mean that Jerry Sandusky should walk if he’s found guilty. Forgiveness means we look at the love in him, the part that really does care about kids. We help him heal the shame that led him to attack the very kids he cares for. We help him see that the love and power he tried to get from these kids is available by loving himself first. If Jerry had loved himself, he would never have hurt those children. If Joe Pa had fully loved himself he would never have pursued success at any cost.
Everyone in this tragedy needs love and forgiveness—the children as well as Penn State administrators, Joe Paterno, and Jerry Sandusky. No one heals while guilt and hatred find a home in his heart.
A Relationship Miracle
A miracle has happened! The book that came through me six years ago has finally been published. It’s called Breaking Free: How Forgiveness and A Course in Miracles Can Set You Free. It took six years to publish because I had some more forgiveness work to do, which I describe below.
The book poured out of me after I made the decision to forgive what A Course in Miracles calls my “chosen learning partner.” We usually have two or three major learning partners, and they provide us with our greatest forgiveness lessons. This learning partner has been a man I’ve called my “twin flame,” the soul mate of soul mates. I formed a special relationship with him, expecting that our soul mate relationship, the grandest achievement on earth in my mind, would make my life whole.
It went bust. Right after I had a baby, I left my husband for this man, and then he abandoned me. That was not part of my plan, and I spent the next 15 years raging at him. I’ve spent the past six years alternating between trying to forgive him and raging at how I thought he victimized me. Yet I still loved him and felt terribly guilty for loving such a jerk. Further, I have a wonderful relationship with my partner of 11 years, so I’ve felt guilty about continuing to love another man.
The Course tells us that a special relationship is something we think will substitute for the love of God. We all form special relationships and these can be with people or things. Addictions are special relationships—we fall in love with alcohol or something else, and initially we feel we’ve found what we’ve been looking for. Then it goes bad, as things here on earth often do.
Last week I spoke with a new friend, Jane Lee Logan. (www.janeleelogan.com). I told her that I can’t stop thinking about my twin flame and how guilty I’ve felt about that, since he’s been so mean to me (that’s another story and the subject of my next book). She echoed the words another friend of mine has been saying, but this time I was able to take them in. “Love him! Love him! How can you possibly stop loving him? Love is what you are! He’s your savior! Don’t even try to stop loving him!”
Something shifted in me, and I’ve had tears of gratitude since. I can finally say that this relationship is healed and that I’ve forgiven what my twin flame never did. A Course in Miracles tells us that we are the dreamers of our own dream, so we’re never victims. The person we think we have to forgive never did what we think they did, because life is a dream. When we awake, we see that nothing ever happened and love is all that’s left. When we finally see this, we are free.
I see it! I used to think I needed my twin flame to apologize before this would be healed, but now I see I just needed to open up to total love, no matter what I dreamed he did.
This open heart is a gift like no other. Whoever has hurt you, s/he is your ticket to freedom. Keep asking the Holy Spirit to help you forgive, and you will break free.
Breaking Free is both the title of my book and what life’s all about. You can read previews or order it at www.lorricoburn.com.
Blessings, Lorri Coburn
The book poured out of me after I made the decision to forgive what A Course in Miracles calls my “chosen learning partner.” We usually have two or three major learning partners, and they provide us with our greatest forgiveness lessons. This learning partner has been a man I’ve called my “twin flame,” the soul mate of soul mates. I formed a special relationship with him, expecting that our soul mate relationship, the grandest achievement on earth in my mind, would make my life whole.
It went bust. Right after I had a baby, I left my husband for this man, and then he abandoned me. That was not part of my plan, and I spent the next 15 years raging at him. I’ve spent the past six years alternating between trying to forgive him and raging at how I thought he victimized me. Yet I still loved him and felt terribly guilty for loving such a jerk. Further, I have a wonderful relationship with my partner of 11 years, so I’ve felt guilty about continuing to love another man.
The Course tells us that a special relationship is something we think will substitute for the love of God. We all form special relationships and these can be with people or things. Addictions are special relationships—we fall in love with alcohol or something else, and initially we feel we’ve found what we’ve been looking for. Then it goes bad, as things here on earth often do.
Last week I spoke with a new friend, Jane Lee Logan. (www.janeleelogan.com). I told her that I can’t stop thinking about my twin flame and how guilty I’ve felt about that, since he’s been so mean to me (that’s another story and the subject of my next book). She echoed the words another friend of mine has been saying, but this time I was able to take them in. “Love him! Love him! How can you possibly stop loving him? Love is what you are! He’s your savior! Don’t even try to stop loving him!”
Something shifted in me, and I’ve had tears of gratitude since. I can finally say that this relationship is healed and that I’ve forgiven what my twin flame never did. A Course in Miracles tells us that we are the dreamers of our own dream, so we’re never victims. The person we think we have to forgive never did what we think they did, because life is a dream. When we awake, we see that nothing ever happened and love is all that’s left. When we finally see this, we are free.
I see it! I used to think I needed my twin flame to apologize before this would be healed, but now I see I just needed to open up to total love, no matter what I dreamed he did.
This open heart is a gift like no other. Whoever has hurt you, s/he is your ticket to freedom. Keep asking the Holy Spirit to help you forgive, and you will break free.
Breaking Free is both the title of my book and what life’s all about. You can read previews or order it at www.lorricoburn.com.
Blessings, Lorri Coburn
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
The Film: The Way
I saw an advance screening of the film The Way, starring Martin Sheen and directed by his son Emilio Estevez. It’s the story of a conflicted father/son relationship, in which the father, Tom, a successful ophthalmologist, disapproves of his son’s free-wheeling, world-traveling lifestyle. Daniel, the son, dies in a mountain accident while hiking el camino de Santiago, the pilgrimage to the legendary burial place of St. James. Tom picks up his son’s remains and spontaneously decides to finish the pilgrimage in honor of Daniel, scattering his ashes at sacred markers. Along the way he meets up with three other pilgrims, as different from himself as he and Daniel. The four make a motley crew that trudge the entire way to the Compostela de Santiago, meanwhile calling each other out on their emotional dishonesty and true motives behind the trek.
Someone asks Tom how he feels about Daniel’s death, and his answer is simply, “How do you think I feel? He was my son!” Now that Daniel is out of the body, Tom is able to have a healed relationship with him, and he sees his ghost several times. Egos use the body to fight and separate from each other, but when we’re in spirit form, it is sometimes easier to release the ego. A Course in Miracles tells us, “The special relationship is a device for limiting yourself to a body, and for limiting your perception of others to theirs.” (T-16.VI.4:4)
ACIM “re-minds” us that we join with others through the mind, not the body. “Everyone has experienced what he would call a sense of being transported beyond himself…it is a sudden unawareness of the body, and a joining of yourself and (someone) else…it becomes part of you and both become whole. This can occur regardless of the physical distance (or) respective positions in space.” (T-18.VI.11; 12)
The Way reflects the goal of A Course in Miracles, the healed relationship. The Way is beautiful—visually, emotionally, and spiritually. It is beautiful visually with its views of the Pyrenees mountains, it is beautiful emotionally with its depth of grief, love and laughter, and it is beautiful spiritually with its message of forgiveness and healing. The Way grabs you at the beginning and does not let you go until the final scattering of Daniel’s ashes into the roaring sea.
As The Way and A Course in Miracles show us, it is never too late to forgive and heal a relationship. Several of my clients in psychotherapy had conflicted relationships with parents who had passed on, and they were able to forgive and heal through their dreams. Is there someone in your life who has passed into spirit form, but whom you still need to forgive? Ask the person to come to you in your dreams or in some other way you’ll recognize. Know that as you put out the call for healing, it is indeed being received, even if it’s not quickly apparent.
I wish you healed relationships. Lorri Coburn
Here’s a trailer for The Way. http://theway-themovie.com/
Someone asks Tom how he feels about Daniel’s death, and his answer is simply, “How do you think I feel? He was my son!” Now that Daniel is out of the body, Tom is able to have a healed relationship with him, and he sees his ghost several times. Egos use the body to fight and separate from each other, but when we’re in spirit form, it is sometimes easier to release the ego. A Course in Miracles tells us, “The special relationship is a device for limiting yourself to a body, and for limiting your perception of others to theirs.” (T-16.VI.4:4)
ACIM “re-minds” us that we join with others through the mind, not the body. “Everyone has experienced what he would call a sense of being transported beyond himself…it is a sudden unawareness of the body, and a joining of yourself and (someone) else…it becomes part of you and both become whole. This can occur regardless of the physical distance (or) respective positions in space.” (T-18.VI.11; 12)
The Way reflects the goal of A Course in Miracles, the healed relationship. The Way is beautiful—visually, emotionally, and spiritually. It is beautiful visually with its views of the Pyrenees mountains, it is beautiful emotionally with its depth of grief, love and laughter, and it is beautiful spiritually with its message of forgiveness and healing. The Way grabs you at the beginning and does not let you go until the final scattering of Daniel’s ashes into the roaring sea.
As The Way and A Course in Miracles show us, it is never too late to forgive and heal a relationship. Several of my clients in psychotherapy had conflicted relationships with parents who had passed on, and they were able to forgive and heal through their dreams. Is there someone in your life who has passed into spirit form, but whom you still need to forgive? Ask the person to come to you in your dreams or in some other way you’ll recognize. Know that as you put out the call for healing, it is indeed being received, even if it’s not quickly apparent.
I wish you healed relationships. Lorri Coburn
Here’s a trailer for The Way. http://theway-themovie.com/
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Anatomy of an Epidemic
Anatomy of an Epidemic: Magic Bullets, Psychiatric Drugs, and the Astonishing Rise of Mental Illness in America by Robert WhitakerMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Anatomy of an Epidemic gives facts and figures on the astonishing rise in social security disability cases due to mental illness. Whitaker makes a comparison between the advent of Prozac in 1987 and the subsequent 37-fold increase in disability cases. What I found interesting is that his observations, backed by data, paralleled my anecdotal observations in my psychotherapy practice. In fact, prior to reading this book I had planned on writing a book about the limits of psychotherapy, and had actually published an article on it. When I first started practicing, clients would be on one, maybe two medications, if any. By the time I finished, 25 years later, clients were routinely sent for medication, prescribed at least two meds, constantly switched when the initial honeymoon period of those meds wore off, and often ended up on 4-6 meds. One of my clients died from overmedication and I had attempted to get her off the meds to no avail. Further, the attitude that a patient needed to stay on meds for life became increasingly entrenched and promoted. Drug companies bought lunch for the clinical staff and gave inservices on new ways to use existing drugs. When the patent for Prozac was over, it was renamed Serafim and aggressively promoted as a treatment for PMMD, pre-menstrual dysphoric disorder, the old-fashioned PMS. What the drug companies did not tell you, but Whitaker shows and I saw, was that once on drugs it was really hard to get off. The brain got used to relying on the artificial manipulation of neurotransmitters and seemed to lose the ability to do its own work.
Whitaker gives fascinating details of an American Psychiatric Association conference that he attended, in which the presentations questioned the efficacy of medications. More and more reports are coming out about the adverse effects of anti-depressants and other psychotropic medications. He raises an important question: Why, when we have so many new and supposedly wonderful drugs, are there more people permanently disabled by mental illness than ever?
This is not to say there is not a place for medication, but that it is being over-prescribed and given to people who should be using behavioral, emotional, and spiritual interventions. I personally know a number of "normal" people who are on anti-depressants and/or anti-anxiety agents who don't really need to be, in my clinical opinion.
Anatomy of an epidemic is an important book that anyone considering taking psychotropic medication, or is already on those medications, should read.
View all my reviews
Friday, September 30, 2011
The Ego's Need to Punish
If you’re drawn to captivating movies, rent The Painted Veil, starring Ed Norton and Naomi Watts. Based on the novel by W. Somerset Maugham and filmed in China
Ed Norton is Walter, an English doctor specializing in epidemiology and heading to China
While in China China
Kitty, feeling trapped in the typical ego scenario of “damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” follows Walter to the cholera-stricken region, where he proceeds to ignore her, refusing to exchange even common pleasantries. Kitty eventually confronts him and says he can’t go on punishing her forever, and asks if he hates her. In a moment of truth, Walter admits that he doesn’t hate her; he hates himself for ever loving her and wishing she’d love him.
Walter’s admission that it’s his own self-hatred begins the process of dismantling his ego and illustrates this line from A Course in Miracles: Any concept of punishment involves the projection of blame, and reinforces the idea that blame is justified (T-6.I.16:5). While Walter blames Kitty, he can justify punishing her, but when he quits projecting his guilt, he starts softening toward her, and she responds in kind. This leads to a profound and inspiring forgiveness lesson as they face the dreaded cholera.
Whom in your life are you projecting blame onto? What would happen if you took that blame back and forgave both that person and yourself? You might just experience a miracle, as Walter and Kitty did.
Love and Light, Lorri Coburn
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Forgive the Poop
When my dad started dipping his hand into the toilet, I finally lost it. “Dad! We don’t put our hands in the toilet!” I threw the towel on the sink in disgust, ran into the other room, and cried. The sobs rose up from deep inside me. I couldn’t bear to see what had become of my dad, the person I had admired most in my life, reduced to a demented old man who thought nothing of having poop on his hands and clothes.
When I came back in the room, my dad sat naked on the toilet and tried to console me. “You seem really upset, Honey. You’re simply too picky. I love you, but your problem is that you criticize and criticize.”
A wave of love for him washed over me. He’s so sweet, and has no clue that it’s his craziness that’s sending me over the edge. His inability to discern poligrip from toothpaste. His willingness to wear clothes with poop smears on them. How he sits on the toilet to urinate, while still wearing his pants.
I ran out of the room to cry again. I tried to use words from A Course in Miracles to pull me back to center. “My only function is forgiveness. This world is not real. I accept Atonement for myself.” But they weren’t working. I couldn’t stop crying; I couldn’t stop making it real. I could see that I was totally in ego, but could not get out.
The rest of the day, I just distracted myself, because trying to get anything productive done was worthless. When I got home, I found blood and cat claw holes on my couch, which flipped me over the edge again. I threw something against the wall, knowing it was soft enough to not do any damage, but still feeling guilty for losing control. I prayed for help again, and got the idea to watch a comedy show. That finally did the trick, and the ego’s grip loosened.
I feel so guilty when I get irritated with my dad, especially when I know he can’t help himself. I also feel terribly guilty about my rage, which resurfaces occasionally. Part of me knows that I’m the One Self, not the personality Lorri, but when I identify with her nasty traits, it’s not pretty.
As I calmed down, the truth of A Course in Miracles started seeping in. The Course teaches us that our one function is to let go of the illusory world, stop making it real. These thoughts came to me: “It’s not my job to be a good daughter, it’s my job to forgive the image of the father with dementia and the daughter who’s frustrated. It’s not my job to be patient with wiping poop off my dad, it’s my job to forgive the poop. My only job is to choose to see a forgiven world, something I cannot do from my ego thoughts, but can do with my Right Mind. Focus on the love between my dad and me, not the appearance of sickness.
Peace was restored as I remembered my only job. The Course is simple: problems appear in myriad forms, but there’s only one problem—the belief that we’re in this painful world, separated from God. There’s only one solution: forgiveness. This tool reminds us of our Right Mind that is still connected to God. It’s the only thing that brings permanent peace, because trying to fix the world eventually brings more poop in some form or other.
Do you have poopy stuff that’s stressing you out? Ask your Right Mind to help you see your function differently. Your peace is right there waiting for you to ask.
Blessings, Lorri Coburn
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