Healing the Mind is Faith in the Plan, 1of 3, A Course in Miracles Ch 19.1

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Hamilton Constellation

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Let’s define our terms. Faith is a confidence in what cannot be seen, but what is held as true and present. Faith is a quality of living-it allows expansion beyond aspects of life that are readily apparent. Healing is a form of ‘making whole’ what was rent, or wounded, or polluted somehow. Healing [obviously] applies to things that can be disfigured or changed in some way. The unchangeable has no need of healing. Anything that can ‘change’ is in a precarious condition-it might benefit or suffer. Benefit and suffering may be temporary, but changes inflicted can be ‘permanent’ for good or ill. There are 2 separate systems, the changeable and the unchangeable, the permanent and timeless as against a thing in flux whose form is dictated over time. We are trying to bridge those two-faith is that bridge.
Faith is a commitment to the unchangeable in a context of uncontrollable flux. If a person has an inner dialog that goes, “Everything changes. I am subject to the vagaries of time and space and there is no solution for that other than to accept fate.” That is ‘faithlessness’ that can never result in either peace or healing. The set-up is mind-numbingly simple-the problem is NOT that there are plentiful witnesses to danger, sketchy outcomes, disaster, and all form of diabolical boogie-men. The problem is how we interpret ‘sovereign power.’ Does it belong to ‘me’ or do ‘I’ belong to It? If a private parcel of real estate surrounded by an ocean of separation is what I want, then faith is impossible, negating true peace or healing. I get the island and lose the rest. The bad news is if I can’t adopt a quality of faith, then I am in a vulnerable, fearful place, always looking over a shoulder to see change coming at me. The good news is that it is what Buddhists call a ‘wrong view.’ There is no island except the little plot I hold as a construct in the mind. Like a kid living in his parents basement, no matter the emo ballads grinding from MY playlist on MY phone, even on MY wireless contract; a little clear eyed analysis reveals the island is made up. A fire upstairs, a ‘planned-use redevelopment,’ a strong shift in the tectonic relationship of mom and dad etc…will reveal the tenuous nature of that construct. ALL separative scenarios are arbitrary constructs. So the good news is I might be living in a ‘la-la-land’ of my own design, but it is ony temporary insanity, cured by the true nature of physical reality which is that everything is doomed to collapse into everything else, eventually. But that still does not remove the problem of clinging to a separate existence, even while it's obvious my little sister cannot keep her toys or bath suds from floating onto "my" side of the bathtub--my only choice is grim stoicism, constant maintenance, setting up useless rules, or just yelling a lot.
Faith and healing--y'know, let's say we're at a dance. It's the coming out party for some girl--her 16th birthday. They hired a band and you have a choice between gorging yourself on cake and Coca-Cola or getting over it and dancing--whatever that is, kind of wiggling in place with a sort of rhythm. We have to leave to assesment of how 'organized' or purposeful,' forget 'skillful' the movements are TO OTHERS. It's the nature of the beast--either participate or be traumatized one way or another. Speaking fro experience, ridicule at what kind of dance moves you bust out is not the real concern--the scarring risk of NOT PARTICIPATING is the real danger. The wound is internal--it's a longlasting pain of choosing to be other, to separate, to not join in a situation that was made FOR joining. One gains an awkward awareness of their own worthless pride-masking-fear, proof of that ostracism exacted on one's self, and a lifetime of self doubt. "Shoulda danced, idiot." Where is the healing?
To realize the dance is 'in the dark,' with one's self, alone, and that it is impossible to step on God's toes because he lacks those sensitive, judgemental digits. Faith is walking onto that stupid dance floor while 'Raindrops keep falling on my head' plays--a song IMPOSSIBLE to dance to, and yet these other brethren do not let that stop them from participating. Faith is standing in front of some girl that you assume 'finds you creepy' and doing that sort of rhythmic jiggle thing--in the name or participating. Do you really think faith is easier than that? Harder? Resolve now, deep inside, that 'Raindrops..' is the last song you will sit out. I guarantee the next one will be 'Try Me I know We Can Make It' by Donna Summer--and you will pay for your delay with a 27 minute disco opportunity. This will be healing.

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