A Shabby Substitute
Yesterday’s post spoke of one part of my experience during the Feathery Finale. I saved the second part for today.
One of the things Ken suggested was that we spend the day (i.e. everyday) looking at the shabby substitute we have made in place of the Son of God. To see what our judgments have made of us, how much they’ve hurt us. In a practical sense he was asking us to look at the substitution we make every time we choose the ego. We’re giving up a right-minded self for a wrong-minded self. While both selves are ultimately unreal, while we still think of ourselves as a separated self, it is part of the journey we make.
As I thought about this it occurred to me that right then, indeed in every seeming moment of my life, there was another “me”, a right-minded me, in a parallel existence I could step into at any moment. A guiltless me. A totally peaceful me. I had an image of how that me would be experiencing class, the people around me, the day in general. And for about about a minute, maybe less, it was like this other me was sitting in the empty chair beside me, and I could see and experience him as clearly as I did the wrong-minded me.
I felt the absolute qualitative difference between the two identities. It was a world of difference. It was almost unbelievable that I could be so perfectly peaceful, quiet, and content. I was almost shocked at the depth of peace I felt when I imagined the experience of the right-minded self, but there was also something very familiar about him, about being him. And in the moment I felt these things and had the glimpse of what was mine for the choosing, my heart felt quite broken over what I had done to myself, what I had given up. The shabby substitute I had made. As this other self faded from my awareness, I mourned its loss, but even more so I mourned the needlessness of the pain of judgment I’ve carried my entire life, when something so much more wonderful was available but for my choice… and that I would choose against it yet again.
When my attention returned to Ken, I heard him say, “It’ll be the horror of what you’re doing (hurting yourself) that will impel you to give up the ego. You’ll let it go because it hurts, not because Jesus or the Course asks you to.”
That day has not yet arrived, but my experience in class made it feel a little bit closer.
