

These are questions we begin to ask after we have spent some clockless time with A Course in Miracles. They arise because they are non-linear questions, and the Course is a non-linear spiritual practise.

Spiritual breakthroughs are hard to describe - if not impossible. But one thing is fairly constant in nearly all descriptions of these numinous moments. When reporting on the experience itself, most beings report that their "me" element seems to disappear.

It has to. Quite simply: it doesn't fit.

Difficult as it is to give up my local identity, history and mindset, "me" isn't a part of the equasion in other-dimensional experiences. And I'm not saying "me" has no value, or does not have an important function in our passageway through life -- clearly it does. I'm simply saying when an experience of the One emerges, "me" isn't there.

Surely this is a clue of some sort.

When A Course in Miracles speaks about taming the ego, calming it down, transcending it, or shushing it into a whisper -- it is not trying to punish us or take away our pot of gold. It is simply describing what has to happen in order to make room for Radiance.

There's a medical procedure which is analogous to this ACIM experience -- cataract surgery: A cataract is a gradual clouding over of the natural lens; to heal it, the surgeon tunnels into the clouded eye and extrudes the blurred lens; then he carefully inserts a wholly clean lens implant to replace the defective one. WIth the cloudiness gone, the patient emerges from surgery with crystal clear vision.

Lost the old lens. Gained a whole new view of the world.

So, to follow along with this analogy, if we hold onto our clouded lens out of fear or habit or even simple passivity, we would experience a slow gradual darkening of vision. And eventually, full-time night.

On the other hand, a willingness to surrender the old familar blurred way of looking results in waking up to a huge brilliant amazing colorstruck universe.

As A Course in MIracles gently hints: with all that MegaLight waiting to greet us, who could possibly keep wanting to hug the dark?