The other day a small child said to me … I don’t believe in God. I listened as he explained. And of course, what he was talking about is that he does not believe in a God who judges us, who gets angry if we don’t go to a special place of worship to pray, who punishes and rewards. This child believes in a lot of other things – he believes that people can be kind, people can be nasty and mean, people can love, people can get angry and hit out …
I asked him why he thinks that people do all these things that people do. He said it’s because they forget who they are. Who’s that? I asked. The same as everybody else, he said. “Are you really the same as your friend Nikoo?” I asked. “Not exactly”, he explained. “I am me. Nikoo is Nikoo. But we are also the same.” Then, as small children do, he got bored of me and my silly questions and ran away to play. Leaving of course, a very thoughtful adult behind
Here I have been saying to all of you – Your children are God. You are God. Why do I have to tell you that you are God? Why did it take me so many years to realise that I too am God? Why do we forget?
I read an explanation in a book that went something like this – if we remembered our true source, we would want to be good all the time i.e. like God. So we would be like automatons, robots programmed to be good, no free choice. I don’t buy that explanation. I know many people like me, who may want to be good (whatever that means!) but I am not good. The presence of God in me is very real, very clear. But I am not good. I choose often to be selfish, irritated, sad, picked on … I can go on, but you get the idea. Because I am not different from you, whether or not the presence of God in you is a breathing, living reality that you are aware of every day
So why do we forget? I think it’s because we choose to. Knowing I am God, I feel even more ashamed when I cannot or do not live up to my idea of God-likeness. It’s easier to pretend that I am not God. That God is some far away Being who watches over me and tut-tuts indulgently when I am not good – or gets really angry and punishes me. It’s much, much easier to live in denial. The alternative is an awesome sense of responsibility, not just for myself but for my entire world. Then I am responsible for my own forgiveness, for my own justice, for my own rewards, for my own happiness. How scary!
So, being who I am and doing what I do, I thought about applying some of the principles of psychology to this huge, big denial that I would so much prefer to live in. The denial that I did live in for so many years So I took a look at Elizabeth-Kübler Ross’s stages of recovery from loss. I am not the first psychologist to have done so, of course. Most therapists agree that the original cause of all suffering is because of the original loss of True Self – the eloquently described ‘fall from Grace’. I am however applying it specifically to my denial of that True Self.
From Denial I moved inevitably into Anger. Rage, Hurt, Guilt (the biggie). Why should I, who am God, be unable to order the world as I like? Why should I suffer? Why should I watch my loved ones suffer? So then logic tells me (the Conscious, logical mind who is oh-so-smart!) then you are NOT God. It’s so much easier to slip back into Denial. Once I managed to resist that urge, then the Bargaining began. For me, it wasn’t a question of pujas, or doing penance. Oh, no. Much, much more subtle.
Propitiating God, bargaining with God, takes many forms. I know people who do ‘social work’, who take care of animals, who rescue other people. Not because their hearts tell them to, but because it might please God, who will then spare them all that angst. My own addiction was to pervasive guilt which manifested as a form of socially acceptable martyrdom. Overworking. Refusal to slow down and take time to smell the roses. Not saying ‘No’ to my clients when they needed my time, forgetting how to play and have fun for myself.
Gradually, I moved into Acceptance. I am accepting who I am. I am God. But I am still bargaining. Like my small friend, I do not want to believe in a God who is judgemental and punishing. So when I judge and punish myself, I do not want to think that I am God. I want to pretend that God is perfect – but only the perfection that I have painted in my head. I do not want to see God in the man who throws a rock at a street dog. I do not want to see God in the woman who hits her child when he throws a tantrum in the mall. I do not want to see God in the child throwing the tantrum. I do not want to see God in the fanatic, in the rapist, in the terrorist. But whether I want to see God or not, God is in all of these.
I do not understand the ‘why’ of the experience of being something that my human judgement tells me is ‘not good’. The perfection of God is not something I can comprehend with my human understanding. That perfection, that goodness, that peace, passeth all understanding.
And therefore, at times, I still choose to forget that I am God, and these flaws of mine are part of God. I am good enough. I am God enough.
SUMEDHA BHISE
Cht and
Transpersonal Regression Therapist
