Effortless Reality
Introduction: The Right Mind and the Holy Spirit
In his book Astrology for the Millions, Grant Lewi, a one-time Professor of English at Dartmouth and an astrologer extraordinaire, claimed that when Saturn traversed the first three houses of the natal chart, a person lived through a period of obscurity. Do not expect worldly recognition, he counseled, but work on yourself. Consequently, it is the best time to set up intentions, goals, and plans to work on mental planes.
Knowing this helped me navigate the eight years when Saturn swept through what constituted my own “obscure” sector in the sky. Once I let go of the idea that I would receive any recognition in the outside world, I was free to focus on my family and spiritual growth. I still worked diligently at the college, teaching Physics, advising students, and mentoring junior colleagues, but I stopped expecting recognition that never came.
In 2014, despite Grant Lewi’s warning and with Saturn in the middle of my “obscure” period, I submitted a proposal for the highly competitive and coveted President’s Sabbatical Award at the college. The award came as a scholarship equal to half my yearly salary, and it allowed me to take time off from all teaching and administrative duties. In short, I was paid for a whole semester to explore whatever I wished without working to pay the bills. Only three faculty received it each year, and I was one of them. I was ecstatic but, at the same time, puzzled. Perhaps astrology was wrong, and one could get recognition anytime in life regardless of where Saturn was in the sky.
The Universe had a completely different intention, however. Not only did I not receive the recognition I thought I was due, but at one division meeting, my dean even forgot about me. It was the end of the semester, and he was listing all our faculty’s awards, rewards, and achievements. Only, my name was missing from his list of recognitions despite my sabbatical award. I would have been upset and angry if I had not read Grant Lewi’s advice. As it was, the situation finally tipped into absurdity for me. Instead of getting mad, I paused and asked myself, “What was going on?”
It turned out that receiving the sabbatical award was more about my spiritual development and less about recognition in the outside world. At about the time of the award, by a stroke of synchronicity, I had come across a spiritual book called A Course in Miracles. The book’s non-dualistic system and its principles were very familiar to me. By then, I had studied the sacred texts of the East, the occult works of the West, and modern teachings from the last century but had never really found a system attractive enough to put it into sustained practice. My head was full of spirituality, of which I put nothing in practice.
There was always something out of my control that prevented me from practicing. I could not travel. I had bills to pay, a family to raise, and responsibilities to meet. At times, I felt frustrated – who could afford to go to the Himalayas on a spiritual journey? Who could find the time and money for a month-long silent retreat somewhere in the backwoods?
And then, A Course in Miracles entered my life. Here was a book, the epitome of the non-dualistic tradition, presented in modern English for modern people. It deftly removed all my excuses for not working on my spiritual growth. You did not have to travel to India or Tibet. Check. You did not have to join an organization or go to a retreat. Check. You did not have to register for classes, pay for services, or gurus. You did not even need a specific time of the day for your practice. I could practice its principles in the middle of my busy life while cooking, cleaning, caring for my children, and dealing with coworkers and students. “All things were lessons that God would have me learn,” the book promptly taught me.
I had run out of excuses for avoiding my spiritual path. My husband joked once that I did not have to go to the Himalayas – the Himalayas had come to me!
The period of my sabbatical award helped me jump-start my spiritual work. For about four and a half months, I had no obligations to teach or go to work. My bills were paid, my family was well-provided, and I had no mundane concerns. It was as if the Universe had removed all the reasons for my excuses and invited me to do what I had always proclaimed I wanted to. I had an overall sense that that was it. Either I started earnestly working on my spiritual growth, or I would never do it.
After this realization, the days of my sabbatical quickly fell into a productive rhythm. I started each day with one lesson from A Course in Miracles and practiced it diligently according to the instructions. Then, I followed up with my academic projects. Throughout the day, during my natural work breaks, I reviewed or practiced the lesson for the day. I spent the evenings with my family and ended the day with another practice before bed. The next day, I repeated the process. By the time I returned to teaching the following semester, I was only halfway through the 365 lessons of the Course. The momentum that I had built, however, allowed me to continue the spiritual work I had started even when my college duties resumed.
It took eventually eighteen months to complete all 365 lessons. In the meantime, I trained myself in new ways to view the world. My long-standing anger and resentment toward my life specifically and the world in general had subsided drastically. I was calmer, more collected, and more centered. I was beginning to apply the Course’s principles in dealing with people and situations.
Going through the Course’s lessons taught me how to shift into a mental state in which I instinctively knew of the great spiritual laws, remembered God, and was in touch with the Higher Powers that guided and protected us all. Borrowing language from the Course, I called that state of being my “Right Mind” as opposed to the old, usual, ego state of mind. And because it was easier to use a specific symbol for the Higher Powers I felt were watching over me, I referred to them collectively as the Holy Spirit. At times the Holy Spirit felt like a single masculine entity. At other times, I felt Him more as a collective host of powers. Plural or singular, I had forged a connection with the Holy Spirit in my mind and loved to ask Him for guidance.
Like any other mundane habit, being in the Right Mind and asking the Holy Spirit for guidance required sustained practice and repetition to build and develop. When things went smoothly in the external world, I frequently forgot about the Right Mind and the Holy Spirit. I plodded along in oblivion to be jarred out of it only when something went wrong. Problems with students, conflicts with coworkers, and difficulties in the family all jolted me back into spiritual awareness. In this mental state, all problems had solutions, and all mistakes had corrections. I was forever protected, guided, and unconditionally loved.