Faith and the Slender Threads

In the early part of my life, and well into adulthood, I was a well-trained, rational American who thought that I had to be responsible for everything in life. Over time I came to see this is too great a weight for anyone to bear and maintain a contented existence.

Only gradually did I stumble upon a concept that I call the slender threads. This concept of slender threads is a way to talk about faith that the people, the money, the inspiration, the insights that I most need at any point in life will turn up -- unasked! I only need to have the awareness to recognize them. You could call this destiny.

The right things will turn up. What a curious concept in a culture that works so hard to control reality. I must admit that it has taken decades for me to learn to trust this phenomenon, which is certainly quite irrational. There is still a stage in the decision-making process in which I am afraid to turn my life over to the slender threads, though I pass through it with less turmoil these days.

In Christian terminology you might refer to this as faith. These slender threads rule my life, whether I acknowledge them or not.

I have always been a great worrier. I used to worry about everything: What will I do this weekend? What is going to happen next in life? I became so overwhelmed with worry that I couldn't stand it anymore and, out of despair, came upon what is essentially a religious creed -- the concept that I am cared for. Slender threads bring what I need, unwilled by conscious effort. In other words, I don't need to push reality around. Naturally, my ego resists this and feels insulted. "I run your life," it insists. But this sense of "control" is purchased with tremendous anxiety.

Of course, I must keep the ego sharp and clear; this is not some sloppy "going with the flow." It is the job of the ego to keep track of the practicalities of my life, yet the flow and meaning of life come from the slender threads. Skeptics always are quick to ask: How do you know the difference between a slender thread and mere chance or wishful thinking? It is true that mistakes and losses occur, but as I age I have come to appreciate that even these have divinity in them. So, I have gradually learned to accept that there is an intelligent force at work guiding my life if I will only trust it -- even in those things that I do not consciously want.

African Story

There once was a father in Africa who had a son. The father loved his boy, and would have done anything to safeguard the son. He worried a lot about keeping the boy safe. He worried and worried. When the youth grew to the point where he was approaching manhood, the father knew he had to communicate to his son a piece of very important information. It was so crucial; he felt nothing else in life would be its equal.

So one evening the father went to the boy and said, "I have something to tell you. I have to warn you that one of these nights the Heavenly Maiden is going to come, and she is going to stand beside you. She will be so ravishingly beautiful that you will lose site of all else. She will want to spend the night with you. I must tell you that if you agree to this, and you consent to spend the night with this Heavenly Maiden, then you will be dead in the morning."

The boy didn't utter a sound. The father, too, was silent, as there was nothing more to say. The boy wondered what this was all about.

A short time later the boy was about to go to sleep when the Heavenly Maiden came without a sound. She so overwhelmed the boy with her beauty that he could not speak or move. When she suggested that she wanted to spend the night with the boy, the word "No" was the farthest thing from his mind. So the boy spent the night with the Heavenly Maiden, and in the morning the boy was found dead in his bed. The mother discovered him, and she immediately burst into tears. The father heard the uproar, and knew that the worst of his fears must have come true. He then understood why the worry had been so great in his heart.

There was a beating of drums, but nothing could bring the boy back. The father didn't know what to do. Finally someone in the tribe offered the desperate idea that there was an old shaman who lived a day's journey away. Perhaps he might be of some assistance. A messenger was quickly dispatched to the old shaman. He ran all day and arrived by nightfall. The shaman heard of the distress and nodded. Despite the urgency of the messenger, the shaman took his time getting ready for the journey back to the tribe, disappearing into a hut and placing things in a bag. When they finally arrived back at the village the following day, the shaman looked around and said plainly, "Build a big fire."

No one knew what the fire was for, but with hope that the shaman had some magic to bring the boy back to life, the tribe worked together and quickly built a big fire. The shaman then pulled from his sack a huge lizard.

There are lizards, like the ancient phoenix, that have the curious capacity to live in fire. So, the shaman tossed the lizard into the blazing fire. In the middle of the coals his eyes were glowing. Everyone in the tribe was speechless.

Then the shaman said, "Anyone who loves the boy enough to go into the fire and bring out the lizard, only you can make it so the boy will live."

The mother, frantic, dashed into the fire to get the lizard. She was quickly burned and was driven back by the intense heat. She collapsed in grief, sobbing because she was unable to save her boy.

Then it was the father's turn. No matter what, the father was determined to retrieve the lizard. But, again, the heat was so great that he, too, was driven back against his will. The father could not bring the lizard out.

Unexpectedly, a most remarkable thing happened. A plain girl who had loved the boy quietly and privately, who had never told anyone of the love in her heart for this boy, stepped up. She calmly entered into the fire. She brought the lizard out.

The dead boy sat up. He looked bewildered, and asked aloud what had happened. There was great rejoicing. Everyone exploded with joy. The village was astonished by what they had witnessed: The mother could not save the boy. The father could not save the boy. Only the plain maiden could save him. Nobody understood what this meant, but they celebrated and gave the shaman a generous fee.

The boy chattered away about what he had seen in his big dream while he was dead. Eventually things calmed down, and the old shaman said, "There is one more thing before I go. You must build up the fire again."

Everyone was astonished by this command. But they did as they were told, as they would do anything the shaman said at this point. The shaman took the lizard and tossed it into the fire again. Then he turned to the boy and said: "Your part in this is not finished yet. You have extraordinary supra-personal powers now. Because you have been dead and returned, you can go in the fire and bring the lizard out. If you bring the lizard out, however, your mother will die and the plain maiden will live. If you leave the lizard in the fire, the plain maiden will die, and your mother will live."

End of story.

Every male will go through this experience. Something awakens that will incapacitate him. At some point, he will come down to breakfast with the knowledge that something in him has suddenly died. The divine feminine awakes, and this kills the orientation to life that preceded it. This "unfits" him for the world in crucial ways. He sees something supra-personal and there is the sudden recognition of a vast world that was previously inaccessible. His mother and father cannot save him. Even the Divine Maiden cannot save him. Only a flesh-and-blood plain maiden can help bring him to life again.

This is the difference between falling in love and loving.

Copyright ©2007 by Robert Johnson and Jerry M. Ruhl

Thanksgiving

Thankfulness is of various kinds. There is a verbal thanksgiving which is confined to a mere utterance of gratitude. The tongue may give thanks while the heart is unaware of it. This is mere usage, just as when we meet, receive a gift and say thank you, speaking the words without significance. One may say thank you a thousand times while the heart remains thankless, ungrateful. But real thankfulness is a cordial giving of thanks from the heart. When, in response to the favors of the Divine, we manifest conscience, the heart is happy, the spirit is exhilarated. These spiritual susceptibilities are ideal thanksgiving.

--Abdu'l-Baha, The Promulgation of Universal Peace

A Dream of Adobe Heaven

I recently had a dream about heaven that seemed designed to flesh-out or correct my view of the afterlife (angels, harps, streets of gold, sweetness and light -- a perspective that I inherited from my Baptist grandmother who raised me). I dreamed that I was in the next world, and there I saw a one-story building all made of adobe mud. There was no vibrant color in sight apart from an intense golden light shining from somewhere, and there were no straight lines in the architecture or anywhere else. Everything was brown and curved.

I am taking this dream seriously as a correction of a somewhat sentimental idea of what heaven might be like. I can tell you that even though there were no angels or heavenly choirs, it was a very happy dream.

At first I didn’t know who I was in this dream, and then I noticed that there were about a dozen people in the adobe hut with me. No one had a name or an identity. This was distressing. I asked, "Is nobody anybody here?" I worked hard and, with great effort, I began to recall my name and the identity from earth gradually became re-established. There was some overlap of the previous world after all! Then I went around and questioned the people one by one until they all remembered who they were. I got all of them back on a conscious track, which seemed to be the essence of this dream.

Why would I dream such images?

The dream says that at this time it is important to hang on to my earthly identity (who I am culturally), though there are days when I would like to close that door. The dream may suggest that I must remember who I am and not just drift off into senility. The dream also suggests that I need to sweep out more of the simplistic and sentimental view about the next world. This dream has brought a lot of happiness and simplicity into my life. Each day I muse that heaven is simple brown adobe and identity has some continuity.

It helps to talk with someone else about your dream. This assists in gaining consciousness. Almost everyone who comes to my consulting room starts by saying “I had a dream, but it is just silly and meaningless.” One seems to have to say this. It is the ego resisting the dream. The recipient who hears your dream doesn’t have to be trained as a therapist (though he or she should not be so cynical as to make fun of dreams). Dr. Jung once was asked who he took his dreams to, and he explained that often he told his dreams to a farmer who lived nearby, a man who knew nothing about dreams or psychology.

The important thing is to share a dream and state it aloud. Only then might you realize you have been given a pearl of great price.