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Study of the Text, Chapter 8, IV. The Gift of Freedom, P 8. 9-4-14

IV. The Gift of Freedom P 8
8 Freedom is the only gift you can offer to God’s Sons, being an acknowledgement of what they are and what He is. Freedom is creation, because it is love. Whom you seek to imprison you do not love. Therefore, when you seek to imprison anyone, including yourself, you do not love him and you cannot identify with him. When you imprison yourself you are losing sight of your true identification with me and with the Father. Your identification is with the Father and with the Son. It cannot be with one and not the other. If you are part of one you must be part of the other, because they are one. The Holy Trinity is holy because It is One. If you exclude yourself from this union, you are perceiving the Holy Trinity as separated. You must be included in It, because It is everything. Unless you take your place in It and fulfil your function as part of It, the Holy Trinity is as bereft as you are. No part of It can be imprisoned if Its truth is to be known.

When I think of freedom, I think of being free of the belief in me. I am not this body of Myron and as long as I believe that is what I am, I will feel imprisoned and I will imprison others in their body/personality. I imprison myself when I judge my actions and think my actions define me. Last night I was thinking about this and asked the Holy Spirit to help me detach from this story and see it as the illusion it is.

This story of Myron is a great opportunity to learn what it is I came to learn. It can be painless if I remember that I am not the story. When I think about something I did that was unkind and I feel ashamed, it is because I believe I am my actions. I don’t have to suffer shame, and I will not suffer shame if I detach from the story.

One time when I was a young woman my mom called to tell me she had burnt herself badly. I hardly reacted to her story at all because, though she didn’t know it, I was really high on some drug or another. To this day, even as I write this, I feel awful about it. My mom was always there for me and so many times I was absent to her when she needed me. When I think about it I feel ashamed and regretful. I cry and wish I had behaved better.

There was a lesson in this story of Myron, but the self imposed guilt that I continue to harbor even to this day prevents me from accepting my true self. The guilt ties me to the idea of Myron and I can’t experience the brilliance of the Self that I am. If I cannot see past the guilt in my mind to the truth of my being, then I will not be able to do so for others either. And it works the other way as well. If I refuse to look past the guilt I see in others, I will not be able to see them as they are.

I want desperately for my mom to be here so that I can hold her and tell her how sorry I am for all the times I failed to be the daughter she needed. I want her forgiveness. But really, it is my own forgiveness that I need. No doubt she forgave me the instant it happened, just as I forgive my own children everything. But I am so attached to “Myron” and her story that I can’t forgive me. I think I am that person who failed to love in that moment. And that is painful to think about.

As long as we continue to see ourselves as the character we play in the story and fail to see that we are the watcher of the story, we will suffer and we will block the vision of ourselves as one with God. We are part of the Holy Trinity. We are the Son. That is our truth, and so we cannot really be the person we are playing in this particular story.

If I am not really Myron, then there is no reason to feel guilty about anything that happened in the story of Myron and Mom. If I am not really Myron then Mom was not really Mom either. We were just both dreaming of separation and watching it played out on the screen of our mind. There was a lesson to be learned, but it was not a lesson in guilt. Quite the opposite. Perhaps I can release myself from the prison of that guilt now so that I can take my proper place in the Holy Trinity and remember what I am. It is bereft without me.

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