Dylan Morrison ~ The Prodigal Prophet

Most of us are swimming around in a sea of desire, believing that we float alone in our search for love. Nothing is further from the truth. Rather we’re swimming in the midst of an ocean of others, all of whom believe themselves to be autonomous searchers for Ultimate Reality. Much modern spirituality is aimed at discovering this empowering sense of autonomy, the Self Source behind our apparent individuality. And yet, does such an isolated and all-powerful Self exist? If so, is it as autonomous as we first imagine?

The ‘dark-matter’ of our being appears to be a mysterious psycho-spiritual substance known as desire – in other words the insatiable energy that drives us towards what we want. Does this desire spring from our autonomy, from our individual heart or is it birthed out of a much more subtle, all-encompassing source; the inter-connected matrix of desire. In this series of blog posts I hope to examine this hidden ocean in which we sail our little boats of individuality.

Let’s start with the idea of desire itself. Are our desires our own? Contrary to popular opinion I believe not. Our desire centres within are receptors of desire and not its womb. In other words we ‘pick up’ or are infected with the desire of others, from the cradle to the grave. Each of us receives and subsequently transmits the desire of ‘others’ like some highly efficient multi-media server in cyber-space. We’re not as much a ‘one off’ as we like to believe but part of something much bigger – the human desire project.

In this post let’s examine a simple model of how such a desire transference works in practice. All desire has an object. We want something or someone. Desire without an object isn’t truly desire but a weak imitation. Let’s take the example of personal relationships.

A popular student has his eye on a beautiful girl whom he’d love to date. This guy has himself unsurprisingly a group of secret admirers within his male classmates. He’s a model, one whom they aspire to be. He has everything; good looks, a great sense of humour, a sharp intellect, sporting prowess etc. As one of these male ‘fans’ observes his pursuit of the young lady in question something begins to stir within his ‘savage breast’ viz. desire.

Wishing to be like his model, the aspiring suitor begins his ‘own’ campaign of conquest to win the affection of the dream-girl object. At first his efforts are inconsequential compared to those of his idealised hero. Yet curiously over time the model begins to sense that he’s no longer alone in his ‘romantic’ pursuit; a rival has now appeared for the beauty’s much sought affections. Something must be done – an intensification of his efforts, for after all she is ‘meant’ to be his. Consequentially his ‘fan’ rival also steps up a gear, subliminally morphing into the desire likeness of his model idol. The ‘model’ student has transformed into a model-obstacle in the eyes of his previous admirer.

At a highly significant point in time something dramatically game-changing takes place. The girl is no longer the goal or object of the young men’s mutual desire. Their eyes have been taken off her to focus instead on each other. The fight for the beauty and the power involved has now possessed the warring students as they seek to ‘defeat’ each other in the struggle. The two rivals have now become model obstacles for each other – warring doubles in the desire battle. A seasoned neutral observer no longer sees the superiority of one candidate but comes to the undeniable conclusion that the two competitors have become clones of one another – ‘monstrous doubles’ caught up in mutual fascination game. Rather than looking at the previously desired object, the pair cannot take their ‘psychic’ eyes of each other as one moment of relaxed weakness could spell psychic defeat.

The fight descends further into relational chaos as nobody wants to lose. Losing such a ‘life and death’ encounter would lead to the destruction of the ego’s sense of Self, built up and strengthened during the fight. The bitter fruit of absorbed or imitative desire has well and truly been tasted – relational chaos and potential violence.

We have now arrived at the scenario described in many strands of mythical literature; warring brothers or twins. Is it any wonder that ‘twins’ are taboo in many native cultures? The ancestral fathers clearly understood the inherent danger of such rivalling mirror images and their potential for violent contagion.

I believe that we live in the dynamic flux of such desire transfer in our human relationships. No-one is averse to being hooked by the insidious mechanism of absorbed desire. No psychic settings safeguard us from such subliminal infection. Family, friends, work colleagues and particularly master-disciple spiritual relationships all lie within such a matrix of desire. Is it any wonder that many of our model based relationships burst asunder?

How can we tell if we’re presently suffering from a case of the ‘model-obstacles’?

Thankfully, language comes to our rescue!

Is anyone ‘getting under your skin’?

Yes!

Then you are.

Does someone ‘really annoy’ you?

Then you are.

Can we be freed from the intensity of such destructive fascinations?

Thankfully yes!

I hope to tackle the psyche’s liberation from skewed or mimetic desire in forthcoming posts.

They’ve arrived. The swallows that is, all the way from South Africa to the supposedly summer climes of rural Lincolnshire, England. As I look out over the nearby lagoon at their dramatic acrobatic flight display I’ve got to admit that I’m just a little jealous.

Why?

Well frankly, I wouldn’t have minded being a bird, permanently in flight, twisting and turning my way through the lower heavens towards my next snack of unsuspecting flies. The slight adjustment of  wing with its resulting daredevil feats seem to shout one thing at me ‘I was born to fly, to be carried on the wind currents of my earth free world’.

Yes, I’ve flown in a plane, both large and small but it’s not the same; pretty boring in fact. Best to fall asleep and wake up at the inevitable bumpy landing. No, I think the only way to get close to the swallow thing is to take up hang gliding, surely one of the craziest but most exhilarating leisure pursuits to have entered into the heart of man. If I wasn’t such a coward I might give it a go. Nothing up there but me and the wide blue heavens. The wind whirling around my little flightsuit as I hang on for grim death – well rather to avoid an extremely grim death.

Just me up there and no-one to dictate to me unless an F-16 flies by with pilot thumbs urgently pointing to earth. What a life! Where will the wind carry me next? The fusion of man will and nature’s element. True Oneness.

OK, so a 56-year-old Irishman like me isn’t really going to get up there. Yet my heart yearns for the freedom of flight. Why? Has something been wired into my Being by a Creator who didn’t give me wings. Is it just a Divine tease or can I fly in some way unknown to conventional wisdom?

I believe so. We were created to fly, not in the space-time material world but in the invisible, but none the less real, realm of Spirit. Spirit, Breath, Wind, all descriptions of that part of the Divine than seems to permeate and overlap this world of things and stuff. An unseen Presence to the unenlightened eye but to one ‘born from above’ a heaven of God-ness granted for us to soar through, like excited angels on their day off.

Many would love to fly but fearful decide to stay rooted on seemingly solid ground looking enviously up at those gliding towards the mid-day Sun. Yeshua promised to fill our beings with Spirit, the same Wind Presence that enabled Him to soar during His earthly sojourn. If ever a man flew high it was Him, close to the Father’s heart, the very reflection of Divine Love. Yet it was Spirit who carried Him there! The same Spirit that’s supposedly fear free and ready to go!

Should I stay on the ground and be a good little religious boy or should I let Him carry me where He wills? Many of us, believing ourselves to be free flying, cheat by taking a flight on Church Airways, where the trusty pastor pilots have had few crashes and a safety record, second to none! How much easier to let the organisation take care of my flight desires, by buckling me into my economy pew and reassuring me of my chosen destination. A few inspiring captain updates and Bob’s your uncle – flying Home without risk.

What a travesty of the Spirit filled life. Me, Spirit and God’s high heaven. That sounds more like Yeshua’s take on things. Who knows, we might even bump into the odd frequent flyer up there too. Where two or three are hang gliding there I am in the midst!

Now where did I put that helmet?

In my last post I examined the common but highly psycho-spiritual phenomenon of tobacco addiction interpreting it as a religious experience of sorts based on body sacrifice.

In this post I wish to consider the whole idea of breath and its application to spirituality and its earthy counterpart, cigarette smoking.

Breath is one of those things in life that we aren’t aware of most of the time, unless we’re forced to run up a steep hill against our will. It’s a bit like God then who for most of us doesn’t encroach too often onto our daily consciousness. Yet Breath is always there keeping our body alive on Planet Earth. Run by the software of the unconscious, breath continues its in/out output without much thought.

Occasionally, breath’s routine operation comes under the spotlight of our consciousness e.g. in the middle of a panic attack when it seems to nearly shut down altogether. In other words, our breathing operates under the influence of our emotions, which lie hidden in the cellar of our lower unconsciousness. Our breathing then is a tell-tale indicator of the state of health of our inner world. The more healing within the fractured ego-psyche the easier our breathing. The more stress there the more staccato and unpredictable the rhythm of our breath.

Eastern practices like meditation and yoga emphasise  breath as a conveyor of spiritual experience. As we learn to breath correctly there appears to be a kick back into the psyche allowing for the release of an inner peace and ofttimes enlightenment experience. Conversely those  who have had spiritual experiences find that their awareness of breath and its hypnotic rhythm dramatically improves.

Interestingly the Hebrew word for breath, ‘ruach’ is commonly translated as Spirit or spirit in the religious writings of the Jewish Old Testament. It would appear then to the ancient Jewish spiritual writers that breath and Divinity are in some way linked. Adam was said to have received the ‘Breath of God’ and become a living soul or psyche. In His spirituality teaching Yeshua promised that Holy Spirit or Holy Breath would come INTO his followers after His departure. Clearly there is some mysterious link between human breathing, a balanced, restored psyche and Divine contact. When all three are in harmonious alignment then Divine Life flows into, through and out of the person concerned. Like our physical breath we breathe in Divine Love, draw life from it  and send it back out into a broken world.

So where does smoking figure in all of this? Well as I suggested before, it is a highly religious if ultimately destructive experience. Let’s look at it from a breathing point of view. The smoker is edgy due to the nicotine addiction – a symptom of their fractured  fearful unconscious. The answer is to give time and space to the god of nicotine. Stepping outside a public building parallels the withdrawal to the prayer closet for the religious believer, or the meditation room for the spiritual devotee. Here the psycho-spiritual practice of breathing takes place. Yet unlike the inhalation of spirit breath by the Divine seeker, the smoker inhales in hallowed puffs the associated chemicals that bring disease rather than wholeness. The god nicotine once again delivers its shot of chemical love, accompanied by its dark agents of destruction. The fractured soul is once more reassured that it is not alone, but in the caring embrace of its pharmaceutical friend, sharing a fellowship of millions worldwide.

The self-righteousness of we, the non smoking fraternity, only bolster the sense of  persecution that the smoking loner feels, like a cult member ostracised by their family. The lines of demarcation have well and truly been drawn. The them and us of smoking dualism established.

The smoker’s experience is therefore, I’d suggest, deeply religious in nature; the dark alter-ego of a genuine encounter with Spirit Breath. A chemical worship feast that enslaves rather than frees; a short-term fix for a psychic problem. The tobacco event is, I believe, the smokers cry for genuine Spirit Breath contact; a contact with Other that seems so far away. Yet it is a sad counterfeit at best, with temporal serenity granted, paid for with poor self-esteem and continual restlessness. So what is to happen to the tobacco addict?

Thankfully, like any addict, religious or chemical, the tobacco slave can expect a visit from Holy Breath, an opportunity to let the Divine healer rewire the wounded psyche and bring fresh life-flow to the soul. Love, and Divine Love at that, is the only One to blow away the stains of imprisonment, replacing them with the etchings of unconditional acceptance and exploding new life.

After all that let’s just take a deep breath. One never knows who may come in!

‘Blessed are the poor in spirit for they shall find comfort in cheap smokes and liquor.’

One of the greatest things that puzzle me in this space-time dream we find ourselves living in is why so many of us are addicted to the dreaded nicotine! Oops ~ before proceeding I’d better set the record straight; I use the word ‘us’ figuratively, trying not to appear as a self-righteous pietist to my faithful blog readers.

One of the few benefits of my sheltered Presbyterian upbringing in Northern Ireland was that I never have, presently do not and hopefully never will smoke the dreaded invention known as the cigarette. Instead my addiction of choice became charismatic religion but that’s another story that you might have already read in my memoir ‘The Prodigal Prophet’. No, I write here as a recovering religious junkie, hopefully one with a deep compassion for those chained to the cancer inducing weed.

We’ve been bombarded with all the dreadful facts regarding the ill effects of tobacco smoking and yet multitudes the world over are still hooked on the experience. This loyalty to the ciggies reminds me of my loyalty to religion and it ‘s got me thinkin’ outside the box.

Here goes with my conclusion!

Tobacco smoking is a religious experience

‘No, Dylan. I think you’ve got it mixed up with the wacky backy, weed, grass puffin’ of the Indian Holy men and their contemporary chilled imitators.’

Yes, I’m aware of that kind of holy smoke, but I really do believe my statement above. Let me explain why!

Smoke and Fire have always been around the religious scene. Burnt offerings were at the very birth of attempts to keep the gods happy. For some reason these divinities were understood to love the frenzied smell of cooking dead meat, human or animal. Generally these deities were assumed to be ‘pissed’ off with the human race and could only have their anger averted by a bloody death and the sub-sequential roasting of flesh ~ clearly the gods above weren’t vegetarians but real meat approving guys and gals. Projections of ourselves perhaps!

The fallacy in this whole religious model of course is that the gods weren’t there in the first place and that the genuine Source of all wasn’t and never could be ‘at enmity’ with His/Her/It’s creative extensions.  viz. us. At its basic essence the religious sacrifice can be seen as a self inflicted death sentence transferred onto some poor sheep or in the worst case scenario, human child. Why such a need for these barbaric rituals?

Simple ~ human guilt. A deep sense of inner loathing interpreted as a consequence to displeasing the deity above. Yet, I believe, such a guilt is not based primarily on ‘wrong actions’ but on a wrong perception viz. that we are or can ever be separate from Divine Love, the Oneness that embraces all within. ‘I have left the Divine and if I were Him/Her/It I would kill me’ is our constant cry within, the ego’s broken record to keep us from awakening to baseline truth. ‘In Him/Her/It we live and move and have our being‘ No hatchet’s being sharpened there!

So, lets get back to the cigarettes. Smoking, like the common man’s ritual sacrifice that it is, carries out the sentence of our ego jury. ‘You deserve to die so die, but do it slowly and be your own firing squad’. Each little 5 minute puff seems to pull the trigger that little bit more, bringing with it a reassuring sense of calmness where the inner angst is stilled under the illusion of justice done.

Unfortunately, like all religious acts of self sacrifice, the psych-spiritual effects are temporary as the ego jury once more sits to pass judgement.

What is the solution? Like religion, it’s better given up; but how?

For some folk sheer self-will seems to do the trick, breaking them free from the psychic attachment involved. However how many folk return once more to the ritual when the inner going gets tough?

I believe that nothing less than a dramatic psycho-spiritual shift is required at the very roots of our being.

Someone needs to turn the Light on, deep within, where the unconscious self loathing that energises our addiction lurks in the shadows. For some therapy may be the road to recovery but ultimately only an overwhelming Spirit encounter will dissolve the lie. ‘Awaken! You are my beloved, loved within and outside time. You dwell within my House, never having left. What separation? Only a fantasy of the night – the time of your slumber.’

Blessings upon all of us who walk in the darkness of addiction. May the morning come as we ditch our religion dressed up as the friend of freedom.

I hope you enjoyed my little parable  regarding ‘Will’ in my previous two posts.

I’m sure that as many interpretations came to my readers’ minds as the number of readers themselves. Truth comes at the right time and in an appropriate guise when our hearts are thirsty for further Light. All revelation is deeply personal as it swirls around the caverns of our Son starved psyches.

However, let me just share a little something that been doing the rounds of my own unconscious since I last posted.

Many of us believe our wills to be a unique gift given to us by a separated and distinct divinity or in common parlance by a god. Such has been the traditional take on will in the Western religious mindset of the past two millenia.

This model of the will tends to suggest that it is something that constantly requires alignment with Divine purpose; otherwise it will easily slip off and do its own thing i.e. selfishness. The result of such a mindset is big psychic pressure, an intense vigilance that destroys rest and a sense of genuine self-esteem.

So here’s what I’ve been pondering:

Rather than having a will are we not in fact the Divine Will itself?

Our encounter with Spirit hasn’t dragged us back to the Divine Will but rather enlightened us to the fact that we never possessed a separate will in the first place. The sense of individual will is, I suggest, an ego illusion, projected onto our consciousness screen in order to maintain the myth of separation, the very fuel of all religious thought and practice.

Within faith communities separation and rebellion are the necessary prerequisite to conversion and return to Divine Union.

‘Once I was lost but now I’m found!’

However, suppose the story of  return and redemption are only etchings on the surface of an even deeper reality i.e. we never really left Divine Will in the first place for we can’t leave ourselves.

Our dream-like state of separation, rebellion and redemption are, instead, virtual tutorials serving the greater purpose of our deepening Awareness of Divine Love and our place within it.

Such a shift in our thinking, especially if we’ve been programmed by a traditional religious model, can have an enormous and life changing effect on our daily life.

We, including all that we seem to experience, are in fact the Divine Will. We always have been, presently are, and always will be within our space-time world. Much of our internal suffering comes through resistance to the reality presented before us, to the storms seemingly coming our way. Awakening to the realisation of our virtual world we afford to ‘go with the flow’ thus paradoxically enabling a change in the reality facing us. In other words, the more we resist the programme, the more we suffer, or appear to suffer.

All power and resources fill the storehouses of Divine Will. As part of that Will may you drink today of your birthright, sharing your Light with those still convinced of their struggle defined separation.

We continue our little parable of Grace Sophia and the trials and travails of her flagship company ‘Self Incorporated’.

Within 24 hours Grace was sitting in the CEO’s office at Self Incorporated’s crystal like headquarters.

In front of her stood an anxious Will, accompanied by a young stranger who looked vaguely familiar.

‘Will, you can relax – I’m here to take a big load off your shoulders.’

Will wasn’t sure what that meant, tending to the belief that he was about to take his place among the great mass of unemployed that walked the streets of broken humanity.

‘Come here’, Grace whispered firmly, beckoning the shell-shocked executive closer with an outstretched arm.

What happened next was not what Will had expected.

Getting up from her classy CEO chair Grace flung her arms around Will as she began to cry.

‘Thank you Will for trying to keep ‘Self’ afloat in the absence of Ruach.’

A stunned Will automatically fell to his knees, sobbing deeply as he collapsed further into a crumpled heap on the luxury pile carpet. A long angst filled wail eerily pierced the surreal atmosphere as Will felt the burdens of the past months fall away, replaced by a lightness flooding back into his dark empty being.

Glancing upwards Will could just make out the form of the stranger leaning over him as he became aware of his salty tears trickling their way onto his parched tongue. Somehow he sensed a familiar energy flowing from this man, now embracing him in his brokenness. Where had he felt this strange connection before?

‘Will, I want to introduce you to someone; meet Rukah, Ruach’s younger brother. He’ll be taking over his position as from today.’

Yes, now it all fell into place; the strange knowing and even stranger flow of energy. Will had first felt it, the day ‘Self’ had been launched; an introductory handshake from Ruach being the channel for the empowering Life surge. During their time together in management it had never left him.

As Will tentatively rose to his feet a new management team was birthed that would restore the fortunes of ‘Life Incorporated’. Will’s gifts would come back into play alongside the new boy Rukah and the wise oversight of Grace Sophia.

‘And now gentlemen, let’s go see my workers. Will, you lead the way.’

As the three executives walked onto the shop floor, the employees of  ’Self Inc.’ couldn’t believe their eyes. They’d never expected to see their founder Grace once more walking among them. Their hearts were pulled this way and that by the turbulence of conflicting emotions; the fear of losing their jobs and the sheer relief at seeing the missing entrepreneur back in their midst. The stranger and a freshly confident Will, only added a sense of puzzlement to the psychic cocktail.

Grace looked around the hushed gathering with a knowing gaze before striding purposefully towards the recent participants of the shop floor confusion. Her dancing eyes sparkled as she unexpectedly reached out her hand to each and every one of them, ignoring the reflexive stuttering, that attempted to issue from their dry mouths. Words, however, seemed meaningless in the reactivated chemistry that once more flowed between ‘Self Inc.’s’ founder and her creative and skillful workforce.

As if by magic a harmonious cry rang out, echoing its way around the shiny factory walls.

‘Welcome back mam. We’re sorry we let you down. You know we’re proud to work for you.’

And so the once great company was reborn; a restored enterprise in creativity and unity.

Of course changes were made. Grace granted the workforce an even greater role than before, each employee enjoying the freedom to walk into her office and share his/her creative ideas for ‘Self Inc.’ Rukah and Will unsurprisingly hit it off together as Grace’s charisma flowed through the pair to permeate the whole company.

Competitors were amazed; ‘Self Incorporated’ were well and truly back in business; back where they belonged.

One of the most confusing, yet potentially empowering elements of the human psyche is the will – the part of us that, at a superficial glance, seems to control our lives.

For those of us who’ve entered onto the spiritual path following an encounter with ‘Other’ a few pertinent questions regarding the role of will may need answered. These are:

How does the Divine Will interface with human will?

and secondly

What psycho-spiritual role does our will play within the complexity of our internal wiring?

In this chapter I want to explore some possible answers to these two questions through the medium of parable.

Here goes.

Once upon a time there lived a dynamic entrepreneur named  Grace Sophia; a charismatic inventor who had come up with some of the most mind-boggling creations ever seen in her world.

People said that they couldn’t remember a time when Grace wasn’t doing her thing; she appeared ageless having been at the top of her game for as long as the businesses world existed.

Grace’s pride and joy was her flagship company ‘Self Incorporated’ which when launched into the world of Cosmic marketing, had quickly risen to the coveted number one position in its field. The opposition was flabbergasted!

With multi-directional creativity bursting from her fingertips Grace quickly handed over the oversight of her pride and joy enterprise to her newly appointed talented CEO Ruach. He appeared to be a chip off the old block in the eyes of many of Grace’s competitors; an exciting and spirited pioneer with a love for the product and the workforce.

Employed by ‘Self’ as its day-to-day, hands-on manager was Will, an altogether different kettle of fish from both Grace and her delegated protegé Ruach. Decisive and with great organizational skill Will complemented the flamboyant visionary gifts of his new appointed CEO. Corporate commentators interested in the fortunes of Self Inc., wisely observed that the boardroom pairing seemed like a match made in heaven.

Self’s workforce was the hidden jewel of the company; a well motivated group of skilled artisans who thoroughly enjoyed working for the Sophia brand, rolling her exemplary products off the production line.

At first all went well for this most innovative of companies, mainly as a result of the high levels of industrial harmony that permeated all aspects of its complex operations.

Sadly however it was not to last.

One Monday morning Will received a call from Ruach’s wife informing him that her husband had been taken ill overnight and rushed to the intensive care unit of the local hospital. A severe heart attack had been diagnosed. Ruach’s doctors had recommended that he take a break from ‘Self’ for the forseeable future. Grace had already authorised Will’s promotion as acting CEO of her flagship company.

News of Ruach’s departure, hit the workforce badly. Within a few weeks, questioning and dissension began to break out within the Self shop floor. A disconcerting rivalry began to spread, virus like, among the previously harmonious team.

Will himself, having previously been a decisive manager when yoked with the inspirational Ruach, began to have trouble making simple decisions. On most days Will, now uncharacteristically insecure in his new CEO position, called in the most vocal members of the shop floor for their advice. Unfortunately such consultations became the battlefield for warring hotheads, with Will being dragged to and fro across the fractious terrain in the struggle of the workers’ soul. Will was now a shadow of his former self ; a puppet pulled by the all too obvious strings of his workers’ fragmented desire; an executive being slowly executed by the rumblings of those in his care.

Unsurprisingly it wasn’t long before such a topsy-turvy situation brought the once proud company to its knees, as output fell and Self began to tumble-down the market share rankings.

Unfortunately, the once decisive Will had surrendered his position as Grace’s representative to the strong personalities among the now out of control rivalrous employees.

Word of Self Incorporated’s rapid demise quickly got back to Grace.

She shed a tear before purposely picking up her cell phone.

It was time to exercise her Will.

To be continued …………