The coming to consciousness is not a discovery of some new thing; it is a long and painful return to that which has always been.
-- Helen M. Luke
Each person is born with an unencumbered spot, free of expectation and regret, free of ambition and embarrassment, free of fear and worry -- an umbilical spot of grace where we were each first touched by God. It is this spot of grace that issues peace. Psychologists call this spot the "Psyche," theologians call it the soul, Jung calls it the "Seat of the Unconscious," Hindu masters call it "Atman," Buddhists call it "Dharma," Rilke calls it "Inwardness," Sufis call it "Qalb," and Jesus calls it the "Center of our Love."
To know this spot of Inwardness is to know who we are, not by surface markers of identity, not by where we work or what we wear or how we like to be addressed, but by feeling our place in relation to the Infinite and by inhabiting it. This is a hard lifelong task, for the nature of becoming is a constant filming over of where we begin, while the nature of being is a constant erosion of what is not essential. Each of us lives in the midst of this ongoing tension, growing tarnished or covered over, only to be worn back to that incorruptible spot of grace at our core.
When the film is worn through, we have moments of enlightenment, moments of wholeness, moments of Satori as the Zen sages term it, moments of clear living when inner meets outer, moments of full integrity of being, moments of complete Oneness. And whether the film is a veil of culture, of memory, of mental or religious training, of trauma or sophistication, the removal of that film and the restoration of that timeless spot of grace is the goal of all therapy and education.
Regardless of subject matter, this is the only thing worth teaching: how to uncover that original center and how to live there once it is restored. We call the filming over a deadening of heart, and the process of return, whether brought about through suffering or love, is how we unlearn our way back to God.
* Close your eyes and breathe your way beneath your troubles, the way a diver slips to that depth of stillness that is always waiting beneath the churning of the waves.
* Now, consider two things you love doing, such as running, drawing, singing, bird-watching, gardening, or reading. Meditate on what it is in each of these that makes you feel alive.
* Hold what they have in common before you, and breathing slowly, feel the spot of grace these dear things mirror within you.