While I stand in the center of my sunny living room, I open an envelope and unfold a letter. Immediately, I see the date—just two weeks away. I call on the Beloved but still feel the shift inside me. It’s a darkness that spreads like black ink in water, weakening my arms so the paper trembles between my fingers. I make my way to the couch and sit down.
The letter from the Santa Fe Magistrate Court invites a handful of my neighbors and me to stand before a judge to argue a case against a woman on our community well who refuses to pay her bills.
It is simple, so why does it fill me with this dark dread?
Karma—that’s why.
This situation mirrors my childhood. The neighbor, a powerful woman who works on Wall Street, holds a similar bully vibration to my older sister. For the 26 years of her life, my sister’s rage held those around her hostage.
But it’s not only her. Because I try to be so “nice,” I have manifested a long line of bullies in my life, from students when I was a child, to co-workers, friends and mates as an adult. For more about this, read My Bully Neighbor Is Me.
That bully vibration so intimidates me that I lose myself, and so I lose my “home.”
This little letter, this court hearing, holds that threat. My mind, in its habitual way, thinks the outcome could mean the loss of my material home.
The woman, who I’ll call Dee, has promised to take everything from us. She threatened to sue us for all we have, offering as example a Canadian man she sued, winning his house and all his assets.
As well manager, I am to stand up to her.
I want to take a trip, drink red wine, find a man to deal with this—anything but stand before that judge.
Instead, I go to my computer and send out an email to my neighbors and our engineer witness. From my cabinet, I pull out the files of evidence I have gathered.
Over the next few days my neighbors agree to attend, but the witness informs me that he will be in Turkey. He is supposed to attest to the fact that I read the well meters properly, which is Dee’s biggest contention.
She also complains of poor water pressure and insists that one well member does not belong on the well. Her list of reasons for not paying continually grows.
I have done my best to answer each contention, with evidence to back up our side. But is it enough? As I shuffle through the papers, the black dread creeps in again. I know that she has a ruthless attorney, who I will have to face. Meanwhile, our attorney doesn’t try cases in this court, so we are without a lawyer. I try to enlist another one to help, but he never gets back to me.
My mind wants to stay in the fight. It wants to go over all the reasons Dee’s wrong and we’re right. It also wants to enumerate my own mistakes over the years—most notably a few math errors that have become huge in my head.
Instead I rivet my attention on the Beloved and on what’s before me right here, right now.
Over the next few days, whenever I think of the hearing, my limbs again weaken. But one day, during my spiritual practice, I see that I want to rely on the witness and attorney, when really they are not the key to this.
All I really need in that courtroom is my Beloved.
Suddenly, the weakness transmutes into strength as I see that it doesn’t matter whether we win or lose. All that matters is that I keep my Beloved close and tell the truth.
The morning of the hearing I awaken from a deep sleep. Strength courses through my limbs. During my spiritual practice I realize that I have already won, no matter what the judge determines.
This woman represents my material mind. She races among three homes scattered about the U.S., her attention hostage to prestige and money. In degree, she represents the old me.
But the Beloved has graced me with new ideals: love, kindness, balance. These now rule my life.
Just two days ago, the new attorney called to say he would present our case, and our witness informed us that he had changed his travel plans.
Accompanied by my mother, a posse of neighbors, the attorney and witness, I step into the courtroom and sit at the plaintiff’s table. The sterile room smells of ammonia, has maroon carpet, rows of seats in back and a faux wood judge and witness stand in front.
We assumed Dee would be armed with her attorney, but she sits alone at the defendant’s table surrounded by clutters of paper.
When the judge enters, we all rise.
Our attorney presents our case, noting simply that the defendant does not pay her bills.
When Dee stands to present her case I note how small she appears, with bleached hair and a frantic step. Her lips peel, her shoulders slump. She contends that there are many complexities to the case, most notably that we read her meter wrong.
Soon I am on the witness stand explaining our side. When Dee questions me, she asks about the mistakes I have made. My heart pounds fast, but I steady myself. I call on my Beloved, remembering that I corrected each as soon as I noted the error. The issue evaporates.
When our attorney questions Dee, she evades answering and complicates the simplest issues. She fidgets in the witness box, bites her lips and bats at her hair. Finally, the judge, exasperated, threatens her with 180 days in jail for contempt of court if she doesn’t answer directly.
Our witness attests to my correct meter readings. But when the defendant cross-examines him, he leans toward her, as though mesmerized by her blue eyes and blond hair. She flirts with him, offering a coy smile. Suddenly his answers become confused, his words stuttery.
So once the closing arguments are complete, I wonder whether we have won or lost. Throughout five hours, I have kept the Beloved close, but still my body shivers with tension.
The judge sits forward in her chair and clears her throat. “It appears to me, based on your evidence,” she says to Dee, “that you created all of these problems yourself, and you want to blame others.”
In the judge’s words I can hear the resonant truth of that statement. The material mind, with its desires and attachments to the security of things, creates all its own problems.
“For that reason,” continues the judge, “I rule in favor of the plaintiff.” She orders Dee to pay the well charges and all attorney fees.
I sit back in my chair, the knots in my shoulders releasing. My neighbor, an old Hispanic man with diabetes-blue skin who has trouble hearing, taps me on the shoulder and asks what happened.
I smile at him and say, “We won.”
P.S. Don’t miss a single Inner Adventure. To receive posts directly in your email box, please subscribe below.
Image: Shutterstock.com
Very proud of you, Lesley.
Thank you, Tim. As you know, each time we have a personal victory such as this it is a victory for all of consciousness.
Wow … this is incredible. Well done, Lesley.
Thank you, Rajiv. I am sure as you put together your new creation you are meeting many such challenges. I applaud your bravery.
I loved reading it!!! Wonderful experience, interpretation of the experience, and expression of it!!! So glad you won in all ways!!
I’m glad too, Sonja. Best of all, ever since that day I have been graced with a new sense of freedom inside myself. Truly, the Path is within.
Absolutely precious! Your writing is superb as always — the building of tension and the releasing of a deep breath at the end– and that ability certainly enhances the powerful underlying message you deliver. Your unflinching focus on the Beloved, your remaining present while you ignore the nagging darkness that would envelop you, and the deep satisfaction that the case was over before it began are testaments that we are not in the world, but the world is in us. Childhood experiences that make us face our karmas from previous lifetimes are the hardest because we still feel like we are the weak, powerless child whenever they come up. With the Constant Companion within, those karmas get walked all over, trounced soundly and “put into a small vial of formaldehyde” and put on a shelf to observe at our pleasure. Your courage is inspiring, as I have mentioned over and over in this blog, as is your love and one-pointed devotion for the Master. Many thanks for sharing such a personal message with all of your admiring readers!
Thank you, Rudy, what you say is lovely. It is so true that those sore spots in our past are doorways into whole new worlds within our present. And I love that metaphor of the powerful psychic figure reduced to a miniature. We really do have all the power of all creation within us, whenever we tap into the Divine current.
Inspirational! Haven’t we all felt this way? And through the telling of this tale, we have an opportunity to learn from your experience. Thanks for sharing!
So true, Joan. No one is exempt from meeting the bully again and again in life. We really are the heroes of our own stories. The more we recognize this, the easier it is to rise above, and with the Divine, rule our inner, and thus outer, world.
Great story! I felt it, saw it, smelled it, heard it, and lived it emotionally thru you, both the tension and the relief and security that comes with invoking with surrender to the Master and whatever he has in store for us.
I so appreciate that that you attest to the physical nervousness in spite of the surrender. Our bodies reveal our emotions which reflect our self-reliant minds which are piled up with our karmas as our lives present us repeated opportunities to walk thru the gauntlet of our engrams unscathed if we practice the Presence.
I always think of the image the Master gave us of being a child at the circus holdong our fathers hand as the circus world accosts our senses.
Blessings!
Wow, Sheila, beautifully said. I hadn’t thought about how we all still tremble even as we hold the Beloved’s hand. The mind thinks that when we surrender, all should become bright and easy, but it is really continual surrender as we step THROUGH the fear that wins the battle.
Wow, Lesley, congratulations on winning this long battle! You use of this story to show us all how to use this format of writing is such a gift! I feel so blessed as I imagine so many others do,to receive your channeling of the Divine Shabda Master in all that you do! Not only in the class, but in anything you post, write or say seems to be a message from the Divine! I am so inspired to write again after reading your works and taking your course! Thank you!
Michael, you have the gift of enthusiasm, which will take you far in whatever you do, especially your truest passion—spirituality. I’m happy to have you as a part of the class and my journey.
Great story, Lesley, and beautifully written as always. It is such a powerful reflection of the battle between mind and soul, and the only way off the battle ground is, as Sri Gary says, with your head in your hand. Your steadfast commitment to live His will, and in His grace is always inspiring. Yes, we still have these emotional bodies, and the karmas that stir them up. The fear (or whatever the emotion might be) and the stories that support the reaction are automatic, they’re not going away just because we want them to! Living our spiritual practice means doing exactly what you described in this post: Notice the reactions and the stories, choose not to feed them, and return to that unshakable faith that He is the Do-er. We really do win when we do that, no matter the outcome. Thank you.
Wow, Sage, lovely response. Truly it is the outdated stories that trip us up, and the emotions that accompany them. Sometimes I look down at my body and feel the emotions going wild and I can see them as swirls of illusion with no more reality than clouds. Then I know I can walk through anything.
Lovely analogy, those swirls of illusion. Emotions are so much more mutable than we have been told! So often I hear, “I feel it, so it must be real.” Now I know, that if I feel it, it must NOT be real! It is just emotion, and there’s no need to let it have power over me any more.
I consider myself to be an eclectic spiritualist. I have looked into many of the world’s religions and religious texts. I guess I became eclectic because I started noticing all the commonalities.
I was reminded of one of my favorite Old Testament stories as I read your piece. Daniel and the Lions den. The most important part of that parable, for me, is that after he finds out he is … shall we say, in trouble, he goes home and ascends to the highest room of his house; where he continues to pray. I believe the “highest room of the house” is a metaphor for … never mind. The most important word in the story is “continued”! He didn’t fall on hard times and start to pray. He had a long standing and well developed pattern of such behavior.
I have never met a person who has such a pattern of behavior that can not deal with adversity. Since I formed such a habit I have more peace of mind, serenity and confidence in the future. I recommend the exercise.
Thank you, Sammi. Lovely what you say. Your parable reminded me of an experience I had in Nepal. One day a group of us went to the Katmandu prison to bring gifts to the prisoners, many held there for unjust cause.
We stood outside a hovel as each prisoner came out in turn. Each looked worse than the previous, with ratty hair, filthy skin and torn clothing. They were starved and desperate.
But suddenly a man appeared who literally gleamed. It was as though the sun shone from him. We learned that he was imprisoned for preaching in the streets. Clearly prayer had kept him sane and whole. It was an epiphany for me in my early spiritual walk. I will paraphrase my spiritual teacher, Sri Gary Olsen, when he says, Nothing moves the dweller in spirit.
Your article is Divinely timed…what isn’t?
One of The Beautiful things of Truth Lovers is how fast they friend one another as if they’ve known each other all their lives. In this way a compliment is as simple as happily sharing a moment of silence before The Beloved.
You already know how I view your artistry with words. I wish to emphasize you are a wonderful example to me from The Beloved.
Siempre con amor…:-) <3
Thank you, Logan. Your artistry impacts me as well, so deep and resonant. What you say about a compliment is sweet and true. Words are secondary to the vibration we hold in every moment, especially with those close too us. Love and blessings to you, dear soul.
Beautiful story Leslie!
Call on the beloved
Let her sit by your side
Fill you with blessing
Empty your pride
Till you are radiant with beauty
Fresh as a flower
Filled with the spirit
Speaking truth to power.
Nelson, what a song you so often sing. This is a lovely poem that could become one of your melodious songs. Thank you for bringing it to us. “Empty your pride, Till you are radiant with beauty.” Yes!
Triumph! This is a wonderful story.
Lesley:
This is the spiritual journey! This is the fight that the Bhagavad Gita talks about. Thank you for in an American way showing that it is possible to transcend these lower body tendencies while walking through our karma. We are the path and are working towards our Mastership. It’s sooo funny how we have such romantic illusory ideas/concepts of the spiritual journey. It is quite amazingly beautiful, but not in that sense. In a completely different way and you have conveyed that here so beautifully. thank you for channeling this great power in your unique way.
Blessings and Love radiant being!
Debra
Debra, what you say is true. The mind does think of the journey as sparks of light and soaring, which truly happen inside. Meanwhile on the outer, we are standing up and BEING our true selves, whatever that means in the moment. I see you doing the same in your beautiful life, dear soul.
I just had a similar encounter with a promoter who didn’t pay me for four hours of hard work, performing, etc. It was not the amount of money that was important, it was the fact that if I didn’t take a stand, the man would have boondoggled other musicians and cheated them, too. After three weeks of non-payment I finally decided to let the world know of this agent’s ways…so I posted on Facebook and didn’t mention names, only the “agent” that books this particular venue. At a jazz show last night, the man was there and approached me. I told him to procure the funds he owed me and I would mention it on Facebook, alongside my other post (everybody reads Facebook now). After delaying and stuttering before my unflappable stance, he promptly went to his ATM and got the money, delivered it to my table in cash. I have, in turn, mentioned the same on Facebook without malice. Take a stand when you know you should…leave the results to the Great One. Thanks Lesley…we all MUST AND WILL face encounters and challenges such as yours in this world. Builds character and wisdom!
What a great story, Al. Congratulations on your victory. Our job really is to bring in the Beloved and let the truth pour forth into our lives, and that resonates across so many others’ lives. In your heroic act you were a champion for many, I am sure. Blessings to you, dear friend.