Sarah took her seat, turned the key, and the tractor came to life. What she was doing was fairly ordinary, but because she was only ten years old, it was an uncommon thing. Her dad, Frank, had been employed at the crummy city golf course for five years. Once in awhile he would let her drive the tractor that picked up the golf balls on the driving range. It was fun but harrowing because the golfers continued to hit balls while she was guiding the tractor around the grassy hill. Oh, it had a protective screen, so there was no real danger, but that whang and ricochet with every direct hit was a little unnerving. Sarah loved it all but ended the hour’s ride quite tense and exhausted.
How many times have we been in that type of situation where we are safe but pestered by a perfectly natural concern about our conditions? For me, worry is a nuisance. These things over which I am troubled rarely come to pass, especially those in the middle of the night. This sleep is lost for nothing and is quickly followed by a day wrapped in exhaustion. So why DO we worry?
The human mind is a phenomenon. As I mentioned in a previous article, it captures twenty million memories per day. Then over night the brain stores them away in, let us call it, a context shelving system. It is ALL there to dredge up when it is needed at any time in the future.
I remember quite clearly hiking by myself below the third flatiron in Boulder, Colorado late one day when suddenly the hair rose up on the back of my neck. I ran out of the area and felt better almost immediately. Obviously something had triggered thoughts of imminent danger, and my reaction was perfectly appropriate for the conditions which my brain had decided “we” were in based on all those contextual sortings. Did I hear or see something on the edge of my conscious reality? Perhaps.
Here is where it gets interesting. Since we cannot see or hear the spirit world in most cases, we will still say things like, “I heard God say . . .” or “I got a revelation (vision) of what God wanted . . . ” This is an attempt at creating something physical from something which is not physical at all. We cannot just say, “It came to me spiritually.” That way of putting it is not human enough for anyone to identify with.
So here we are caught somewhere between having fun driving the tractor and fearing the next hit, even when it may not hurt us or hurt us very much. When it comes to understanding the spiritual nature of those joys and threats, we are easily confused by trying to pack those thoughts into humanistic terms. Here is a humanized example of ruining it – The Earth was rotating at 1,000 miles per hour and as my 23 mile horizon at the top of the ocean bluff began to block the light rays of our star, the number of atmospheric particles was elevated due to the angle of incident and the spectrum of the light reflecting through the H2O particles as they changed into the colors 620 nM at 479 Thz and 700 nM at 428 Thz.
Mostly, private enjoyment is the best course for both the physical and the spiritual experiences. They are precious and indescribable. Don’t worry be happy. You don’t have to look for the green flash to enjoy the sunset in all its glory.