Author: Rose Fisher

It appeared as a tiny biplane, making its slow way across my field of inner vision, towing a banner. Redeeming Satan. Twice it flew by, both times from left to right. I was familiar with Walter Wink’s trilogy on The Powers, so I had a loosely woven basket in which to mull the concept until my next meeting with my spiritual director. When I brought it up with him, he suggested that I pay more attention to the redeeming than to the Satan. So I have. It’s been more than twenty years.

Now it seems I am to write something, offering thoughts from the intervening time of jelling. Wink approached the development of Satan from the biblical book of Job. There Satan was presented as a loyal servant of the Most High. His purpose was to travel the earth noticing those whose faith, whose relationship with the Most High, might benefit from some challenging, some testing. To ascertain whether the faith was true, and sturdy, or simply the result of pleasant circumstances. His job was to tempt, to see whose faith was genuine. Not a popular job, but surely one that benefited the Most High’s enterprise of developing the Kingdom, solid and true.

At some point, Wink posited, Satan “fell” in human consciousness. Rather than taking responsibility for not meeting the challenges squarely, in faith, we began to “blame” Satan for out failures. In the words of Flip Wilson, “the Devil made me do it.” It wasn’t the “devil’ or “Satan,” it was our own preference for the easy way, to cast blame on someone else. Avoiding responsibility, avoiding standing up and looking the Most High squarely in the eye, and admitting our part in the mess, whatever it was. So, as we do, projecting all the tawdry ugliness on someone else. And as we persisted in doing this, evil, which has its own gravitational field, increasingly clustered around the figure of Satan, weighting him down to sink into pure badness, pure evil.

It is time to offer a re-construction of this process. It is time to put some effort into shifting the human consciousness, and doing the work, digging and expanding, opening our eyes and hearts, letting our defenses and prejudices fall away, so we can acknowledge and admit the toll of our responsibility as individuals, as a society, and a species. Once we claim what is inherently our own the weight of our projections can fall away from this archetypal figure and it will be able to rise back to its original function: a tester, a tempter. Someone who provides the means for us to see who we truly are, and the incentive to heal, and let others be healed.

To grow up and take responsibility rather than blaming anyone, or crippling ourselves with shame. Becoming grown-ups.

These are upsetting times. We can enter the upset creatively, constructively. The breaking apart of accustomed systems and generational expectations offers opportunity for new growth, clearer vision, truer humanity. This does require  discipline, or if that is too harsh a term, practise. Or, perhaps more palatably, changing some habits. The benefit is an inner comfort and unconquerable gladness. Here are some places to start.

Attention: What are we paying attention to? We can pay attention to, notice, what we are paying attention to. We can develop internal boundaries; choose to limit our informational input to that which keeps us motivated and energized.

Energy: We can notice where our energy is going, what it is doing. We can choose to gather it in where it is scattered, splattered or flailing, gather it in and focus it on something constructive, creative, helpful.

Clarity: We each have a unique path, a unique gift of who we are to participate in the solution. How do we get clear about what that is? Who we are needed to be?

Engagement: This is not a cerebral, abstract exercise. We need to engage, engage with a lightness that allows us to disengage if it starts feeling “off,” or even less than “on,” Gently probing to see where life is for us among the possibilities. Exploring. Paying attention, again. Again and all ways.

Community: Find or develop a community (if only one person) that uses compatible language and concepts. This work merges into the spiritual, and like all spiritual work, it requires community to support it. So we want language that supports our exploration and people to talk it over with.

Patience: This is a long haul. Incremental. It may be, for some of us, essentially a restructuring of our operational system. For all of us, it may be a firmer tuning of our capacities. We are, it seems, never “done.” The habits, practices, disciplines, require on-going exercise and development not to atrophy or backslide.

Gratitude: Every bit counts. Every bit of attention or engagement or energy we put into the process contributes to the overall solution. We are claiming our capacities, digging our roots into our true selves, resisting the mudslide toward denial, despair or hysteria. Stabilizing the territory around us, the terrain in which we are “planted.” Delight: We begin to get glimpses of the whole , recognizing our membership within a vast community, even an organism, that is developing toward deep and meaningful transformation. We belong. We are home.

I may not be alone in this: I am unlikely to admit there is a problem until I know there is a solution. Now, it seems that the deeper I allow myself to become embedded in the solution, the more able I am to admit the scope of the problem.
Here’s a problem, and I don’t like it. I am the citizen of an Evil Empire (CEE). I am also the beneficiary of a demonic system (BDS). I am also regretfully and inevitably racist (RIR). As if that weren’t enough, I am also a consumer of my fellow creatures (CFC). I have no moral standing that I can see. This seems like a good place to start.

So what’s the solution? Starting very inwardly, I might creep in under the wing of some strong angel that nestles me toward the possibility of becoming part of the solution, and thus, I am able to abandon the concept of moral standing. In favor of the desire to be part of the solution. The willingness to be part of the solution.

Okay, so what is the solution? Not the Big One– I don’t know that or know how to get there. My piece of it. What can I do? How do I be a part of the solution, the unique part that I am able to be?

For starters, recognizing the problem. Admitting it. Accepting that This Is the Way It Is.

That, I am sure, is a very good step. Then, I suppose, asking what my part in the solution can be. No, that may be going too far, too fast. I may first need to go deeper into that willingness. Being willing to be changed, willing to be less comfortable, willing to be stretched and formed.

And surely to register that willingness with the Powers, the Further Spheres. So the entire cosmos knows that I am willing to be changed, challenged, even transformed, for the purpose.

Then stay alert? Be attentive? Little nudges, small fleeting awarenesses that Here is an opportunity to Respond in a New Way? Something more authentic and true to where I am at the moment and where I hope to be? Can that be the next step?
And be open! There may be others around who feel the same way, and we might all flourish further with each others’ companionship. Float it out there.

That sounds pretty good for now. At least it’s a start. A start in a direction that feels solid, feels right. And a gentle floating that could, might, be welcomed as an invitation. Might be.

For a while in college, I was a biology major. I got to use a binocular microscope.  With that little wheel held by the fingers of my right hand, I was able to see the whole surface of the object of my study, and then, by turning the wheel clockwise, slowly descend down through the layers of the organism, layer by layer. 

I still use that mode of perception.  Look at the whole, big, very big, picture and then down through the layers to see how it all seems to fit together.  One of the Sisters at a nearby monastery turned me on to Beatrice Bruteau.  The first book I read led me to the second, God’s Ecstasy, and I have been stuck there ever since.  If we posit Being, just pure Being — and certain qualities of Being — from the infinitesimally small point of pure Being, this entire known universe develops/ evolves — I would say, dances forth.  For it is a dance,  a Dance of evolution. The smaller and simpler joining to create the larger and more complex.  Whatever doesn’t work is dropped from the Dance, and the smaller and simpler will go on to create a different, larger, and more complex aspect of the Dance.  What works persists and goes on to join with other members of the Dance to create more forms of Being. 

It’s a process.  We might say that Godde is a (or the) process of Being, a multi-dimensional, ever-evolving Dance of Being.  

What I keep seeing, and thus am writing to see if it can live outside my head, is a crescendo. Starting at that infinitesimally small point of pure Being, and then growing outward through all dimensions, toward……. perhaps its matching decrescendo? Drawing all back toward that infinitesimally small point? 

And we are in the crescendo– or decrescendo if you prefer, but let me stay with the crescendo for ease of the story, although you are welcome to flip it if you like.  We are unique energy events and unique dancings held within the many dimensions.  To the extent that we are participating in the life of the crescendo, we are as comfortable as we can be. To resist, to try to make the Dance go our way, is to deform the dance and invite misery all around. To participate – wholly – is the only satisfaction that endures.  

Surrendering to the crescendo.  Sensing its life and its trajectory, and becoming wholehearted participants.  We are, after all, its creations.  There is nothing inherent in us that is in disharmony with the dynamic of the crescendo.  Any problem is in my habits and between my ears. As I practice trusting the crescendo, the life, the dance of All Being, something relaxes in my lower back. This large perspective makes my daily life easier.  Whenever I feel myself getting snarled up, tense, or tight, I can remind myself of the crescendo and let go into it, trusting it, letting its life carry me, swept up into its dance. All it wants is its own way.  I might as well let it.

Thirty or so years ago, maybe in the mid-1990s, I had a sort of vision out on Plum Island, off the coast of northern Massachusetts. I had been mulling gender dynamics in spiritual developments in the Eastern Mediterranean basin over the past few thousand years. There on Plum Island, I “felt” the more feminine, egalitarian, earth-based systems– the horizontal — a few millennia ago breaking open for the upthrusting masculine, hierarchical, domination-based system:  the horizontal broken open for the emergence of the vertical.  I now “saw” the vertical beginning to crumble, as if a hose pointed upward had been turned off, and the last drops of water were falling toward the ground.  In response, I “saw-felt” the horizontal pulling itself together and beginning to rise.  Rising up the vertical until it was at the proportion of a cross, and there clicking into place.  At that crossing, a “new” dimension was opened, piercing through the crossing toward a less binary way of being. 

Today, I was walking up in the woods above this city.  From the Spark sessions [link to Events page], I have developed an affection for, and sense of affinity with, the mycorrhizal network, the interwoven mass of mycelium that connects trees in a forest, providing nutrients, medicines, and information.  Since my mind likes the easiest path to understanding, the principle of symmetry across scale, analogies, and metaphors is attractive to me. 

Thus, until someone convinces me otherwise, my work and prayer are based on the belief that there is a similar network to that in the forest floor, connecting all sentient beings, perhaps all beings, maybe all creation.  Like most things, it grows through appreciation. So, as I was coming down toward the pavement for the descent into town, I put some conscious appreciation into the network on which I was walking. 

And up it came like steam from a pond on a cool morning, like the horizontal rising up to catch the vertical. 

Five days a week, part of my morning routine is connecting with spiritual nodes around the globe.  This morning, for the first time, I added in connection with the spiritual nodes within some political centers. I felt something stirring. 

Now, in my descent from the Park and its woods, I felt the power from beneath, from the underside, gathering the horizontal and beginning its rise up to its right proportion with the vertical,  where the way can open for the deep healing-whole-ing so needed.  A new way of perceiving.

May we become open to all that is, to all the conceptual allies waiting for our appreciation in order to pour their gifts into our salvific endeavors. 

Little green men. Diaphanous lilac women. Angels. Entities. Extra-terrestrials. Discarnates. I hear from a friend who has friends that we (the human enterprise) are being helped in this time of stress by those from Away. Because they can’t (or won’t) override our “free will,” they are working through the planetary systems to rouse our consciousness. Working to rouse it to effective focus and willingness to engage in what is needed in these times. 

I had to run this through my christological “grid” to see if it could fit, rather like trying on Cinderella’s glass slipper. I’m glad to say it fit. Godde is the Source of all Being. We are all connected. It doesn’t matter where we call “home” in this ever-expanding, ever-evolving, multi-dimensional dance. There is nothing to keep us from sliding across the intervening conventions to lend a hand to a neighbor in distress or approaching distress. 

My understanding of the CHRIST, that it is a function of Godde, and that it manifested perfectly ( or perfectly enough) in my Lord, Jesus, allows for the existence of such entities from Away. Why not? Each containing a spark of CHRIST, if not precisely of humanity. And the spark of CHRIST would /could draw them to be of service to us and to our biosphere in our present (you supply the noun. I use simply “pain”). Also, it is a nifty planet with beautiful and challenging features. I can see being attracted to it, can’t you? 

So, how about my Man, Jesus? Here’s my current riff. He may have a closer affinity with these folks from Away than I can project. Certainly, he is respected by them. He may be the One who whistled them up and invited them in. I don’t need to know or even hypothesize (although I guess I just did). The point is, I think that I can dive further or deeper into being part of the solution of the present time, into encouraging and supporting others in finding their niche within the solution of the present time, knowing – or hoping – or believing – that my efforts have wide-ranging support. I am a tiny, unique piece in a vast multi-dimensional tapestry, being woven by the Great Weaver. Pieces from far away. Pieces from nearby. All being woven by the Great Weaver.

There is a strange relaxation in being precisely where one is called to be, exerting oneself to the fullest effort. Focused, alert. Fully awake, poised to shift if required, yet relaxed. May we all be drawn to our place. May we all be willing to support others in finding their place. May we all be all that we are needed to be in this time of – pain. May we all be willing.

New here? Start at the beginning!

Like a genie released from a lamp, he came billowing up from his just-closed grave. I noted and did not respond. In the next few days, I felt him approaching me, exploring, it seemed, the possibility of renewing and expanding the rapport we had when we were both incarnate. No. In the twenty or so years since I was last approached by a post-carnate, my schooling, training, and awareness of the potential dangers had not weakened. No. I love you, and No.

If you want to be in contact with me, talk with Jesus. Or His Mother. As I recall, you had no use for either of them while you were in the body, but maybe your perspective has changed. If you want to be in touch with me, get in touch with one or both of them. They can work it out as is best.

Jesus, I just referred him to You. When we consider what changes You have wrought in my life and understanding, I am sure that you can do what is best with him and us. Thank You. I trust You and Your process.

Within a day or so, I was brought to mind a mosaic, the living mosaic. I see this living mosaic as an icon for the solution for the sustainability of the human enterprise on this sweet planet Earth. We are each a bit of the mosaic: shell, pebble, a bit of glass, gem, a shard of mirror. Each unique. Each being refined. Each essential.

In the past year, during our Sunday Spark teleconference meditation sessions, the feeling has grown that there are others, not on the telephone, who are joining us. I now see that the Spark ‘work’ – claiming our sparks – may be beneficial whether we are in the body or out of the body. Our sparks, it seems, continue on for at least a while after biological death. The desire to affirm and connect with the sparks in others may continue. Defenses, bafflements, and distortions to which we are attached may persist. The willingness to be transformed may become more acute. If we are yearning toward our place in the mosaic, toward where we truly belong, claiming our personal spark offers a practical way to ease that movement. Whether we are in the body or out of the body.

So it seems possible that the dear soul who billowed into my attention that autumn afternoon is approaching his next lodging place within the mosaic, as am I. It’s a living mosaic, after all, every-evolving, multi-dimensional. Inclusive of those with and without bodies. All one beautiful, living mosaic. Ever-evolving. I don’t design it. You don’t design it. He doesn’t design it. We get to let go of everything that gets in the way and let ourselves fit into the design, participating in the life of the mosaic and becoming part of the solution. Together. In expanding rapport.

A friend has been coming to pray with me one or two mornings a week for over twenty years. It started because he loved his son deeply, and the son seemed to be battling addiction. Late last year, this son checked himself out of the local hospital against medical advice and was found a few days later, dead in the nearby woods with a bottle.

My friend was contacted by a psychic in another part of the country who believed she had been contacted by the son with a message for his Dad, He wanted his dad to know that he was well, resolved, and doing okay. 

 Later my friend began our prayer time together by wondering out loud whether his son might be helping folks still on the earth plane who had challenges like he had had. Maybe nudging them, sort of boosting them along. Might be, I responded.

Got me to recall what I know or have been taught about such things. First is, as I put it, Jesus is Lord of All. Second is what I get from the Old Testament: don’t consult or rely on folks who are ‘On the Other Side.’ And then there’s a teacher’s statement: “Just because you don’t have a body doesn’t mean that you know anything.” Okay, so where does that leave me, leave us?

 Do I think my friend’s son or anyone else on the Other Side can be helpful? Yes. Do I think it is okay to rely on that? No. I was deeply schooled in letting folks who are “post-carnate” get on with their process, whatever it might be. No clinging or leeching or adhering. Let them get on with their journey into that phase of the mystery. No dependence from us on this side. 

So if I feel an energy whiffling around, what then? My teacher taught that we could order: “Show your light or begone.” If they exist, they are creatures of Godde, so they have light to show. If not, well, they are errant thought forms and can disintegrate. Might it be more than that? Maybe. But I am not schooled enough to venture further. If someone is trying to tell me something, I refer them to Jesus. They can tell Him, and if He feels it is helpful and important, He will figure out a way to get the information to me. From Him, I am willing to accept. Not from anyone else. 

It’s a big, multi-dimensional dance out there. I don’t need to know more than that. I want to be effective and to be effective, and I need to be safe and to be safe; it’s good for me to be sticking close to the Man, the J-Man, and letting him do the work where it might be sticky for me. Then there are the saints. I have saints that I ask to pray for me. There are saints whose support I feel buoying me. So maybe, if I hear the hinge squeak, I don’t need to answer. But maybe I can let in the blessing.

I am sure he is praying for me. For several years before he died, I wanted him dead. He felt like a leech feeding off some liveliness of mine, and I wanted him off me. Never mind that I had leeched on him for years; I didn’t want him to leech on me. I tried shaking him off. He was not to be shaken. He adhered. So, wishing him gently dead, I let him. 

Then he died. 

I first missed him more than a year later. I was on a trip and wanted to talk with him once I got home about the startling moments. I realized that I wouldn’t be able to. I missed him. I felt it. Then, as if in response, I felt his praying for me. 

I don’t feel it as keenly now, and I am sure he still is. 

He let open a door for me, a door between my Experiences and the Church. My experiences were too . . weird… to talk about with most people, and certainly with any church people. Hush, hush, Martha. Pack it down. Never mind.

Then he came along. Although he came to offer spiritual direction for clergy members, he was willing, when I asked him, to be my spiritual director, too. Slowly a door cracked open. I let him into my confidence: the stories of the strangenesses that had been visited upon me. And some ongoing. 

Eventually, what flowed through the opening became less torrential. He introduced me to the Society of St. John the Evangelist. My tension eased. There could be a place for me in the church institution.

Now I am wondering. With his prayers, might he still be a hinge? Now a hinge for a door between this mortal life and – to be orthodox, the Communion of Saints – beyond? Opening a way between these two phases of Being for a more recognized and overt communion? 

I no longer feel a need to shake him off. Neither of us is now attached. We are lodged in different dimensions. Now, there may be a potential for us to work together as colleagues. He, from his post-carnate reality, is still a hinge, allowing a door to open between these two phases of Being, a door by which I may wait, watching for what might come through.