For the first time I felt like I fully understood Christ's teachings. I lost all interest in myself and in material possessions, and only wanted to help others. I was ready to give away everything I owned, and even tried to give away our personal home and our family company (that's another funny story). I was living in the kingdom of God, and happy as a clam giving money away anonymously, visiting people in the hospital, trying to improve people's self esteem, encouraging people, and having lots of interesting interactions with people. While in this extraordinary state of mind, I thought about my mother. Both of my parents had always been deeply religious, but my mother was the most vocal of the two. I knew that she was hurt that all of her children had left the church, so I could hardly wait to tell her about this wonderful thing that had happened to me. She now had a son who was just as interested in spiritual matters as she was! I was sure that she would be overjoyed to hear about my enlightenment experience. Ha ha! It makes me laugh just remembering my state of mind at that time. Carol did not share my enthusiasm, and she asked, "Are you sure that your mother will appreciate what happened to you?"
"Of course," I replied. Religion has always been my mother's biggest interest, and now it's also mine." I therefore invited my parents to visit us, so that I could share my wonderful woo woo experience. Well, it was a total and complete disaster. They concluded that I had joined a cult, or maybe gone psychotic, and they had absolutely no reference for understanding what had happened to me. I, of course, was very surprised and saddened by their total rejection of my enlightenment experience. Ha ha!
For at least two weeks I drove around wondering what I could have done differently to help them understand that what had happened to me had been a wonderful thing that allowed me deep insight into Christ's teachings. I thought to myself, "They don't really understand what Christ was pointing to in his teachings, but I have no idea how to help them understand." I pondered this issue for several days, and then a fiery anger arose inside me and a different line of thought sprang up out of nowhere. I thought, "This is a bunch of crap! Screw 'em. I had the most powerful spiritual experience of my whole life--the only authentic and direct spiritual experience of my life--and they rejected it. They're just like the pious close-minded Pharisees!" I didn't get angry; I got monumentally enraged (and I'm not someone who gets angered easily). I became totally pissed!
I owed my parents some money at that time, and as soon as this anger arose, I rushed to the bank, took out a loan, and sent them back their money. I wanted nothing to do with them, and I certainly did not want to owe them anything. When they got the check in the mail, my mother immediately called me, and I wish that I had a recording of her voice that day. She was bristling with hostility and wanted to know why I had returned the money. I said, "Because I don't need it anymore." During that conversation I realized that our relationship had dramatically changed forever.
For a long time I remained angry and had very little to do with my parents, but from that time forward they treated me like an adult, and I treated them like adults. I eventually realized that they couldn't help how they had been conditioned, and I forgave what they couldn't help. Our relationship improved steadily as time went by, but I never again put up with any crap from my parents or shied away from being who I was. Our relationship may have been a problem for them, but it improved dramatically for me.
Today my mother is 97 years old, and I am her primary care giver, but I do not pull any punches with her. I am very direct in my communication, and we treat each other like adults. Although she is still a fundamentalist Christian, she will occasionally joke about my Zen background, and the other day she said, "You'd be proud of me. In a crossword puzzle today, I knew what the word 'koan' meant." Ha ha. No one is ever too old to learn and grow. She still has a lot of close-minded opinions about things, but I do not hesitate to challenge her prejudices if or when she voices them.
I was talking to a woman two weeks ago who is almost sixty years old and cringes when she is in the presence of her judgmental mother. I told her that she could change their child/parent relationship if she wanted to, but she would have to be willing to face her mother's rejection and anger. I could tell that she is not yet capable of doing that. Her mother still makes disparaging remarks about her clothes, makeup, hairstyle, and behavior because her mother still thinks of her as a child and is very controlling. Even at the age of sixty this woman is deathly afraid of her mother's anger and opinions, and until she can reveal who she really is to her mother, and deal with the consequences, their relationship will probably not change.
This is why I often tell people that the path to truth is a warrior's path. It is a path that requires being true to the truth, no matter what the consequences, and the path may lead beyond family and friends to a wholly new and unimaginable life. A warrior must be fearless and able to stand alone on the solid ground of honesty and truth.
Someone wrote to me about a year ago and said, "I have two good friends who shared the spiritual path with me for almost ten years, but when I decided to leave the comfortable world of the known behind, neither of them were willing to come with me. This is not always the price of truth, but it can be.
I tell these stories simply to point out how unpredictable the spiritual path can be, and to illustrate how friends and family can often feel threatened or angry when someone steps out of a an old familiar role and begins to stand in their own truth, calmly, fearlessly, and powerfully.
There is a TV reality program currently on air about Amish families who totally reject children who leave their faith. The children grow up in a close loving community, but the love is highly conditional, and is based on a belief system that must be shared unquestioningly. When some of the children decide to go into the outside world and leave the Amish belief system, the entire community shuns them as if they were dead, and will not even speak to them or acknowledge their presence. This is incredibly painful for the children, and the reality show features this tragedy as its core issue. The children have to choose between the belief system and freedom.
Gay people have to face the same kind of potential ostracism. Some of them have parents who are totally uncompromising and closed-minded, so it takes extreme bravery to say, "This is who I am," and be willing to accept the consequences.
"Of course," I replied. Religion has always been my mother's biggest interest, and now it's also mine." I therefore invited my parents to visit us, so that I could share my wonderful woo woo experience. Well, it was a total and complete disaster. They concluded that I had joined a cult, or maybe gone psychotic, and they had absolutely no reference for understanding what had happened to me. I, of course, was very surprised and saddened by their total rejection of my enlightenment experience. Ha ha!
For at least two weeks I drove around wondering what I could have done differently to help them understand that what had happened to me had been a wonderful thing that allowed me deep insight into Christ's teachings. I thought to myself, "They don't really understand what Christ was pointing to in his teachings, but I have no idea how to help them understand." I pondered this issue for several days, and then a fiery anger arose inside me and a different line of thought sprang up out of nowhere. I thought, "This is a bunch of crap! Screw 'em. I had the most powerful spiritual experience of my whole life--the only authentic and direct spiritual experience of my life--and they rejected it. They're just like the pious close-minded Pharisees!" I didn't get angry; I got monumentally enraged (and I'm not someone who gets angered easily). I became totally pissed!
I owed my parents some money at that time, and as soon as this anger arose, I rushed to the bank, took out a loan, and sent them back their money. I wanted nothing to do with them, and I certainly did not want to owe them anything. When they got the check in the mail, my mother immediately called me, and I wish that I had a recording of her voice that day. She was bristling with hostility and wanted to know why I had returned the money. I said, "Because I don't need it anymore." During that conversation I realized that our relationship had dramatically changed forever.
For a long time I remained angry and had very little to do with my parents, but from that time forward they treated me like an adult, and I treated them like adults. I eventually realized that they couldn't help how they had been conditioned, and I forgave what they couldn't help. Our relationship improved steadily as time went by, but I never again put up with any crap from my parents or shied away from being who I was. Our relationship may have been a problem for them, but it improved dramatically for me.
Today my mother is 97 years old, and I am her primary care giver, but I do not pull any punches with her. I am very direct in my communication, and we treat each other like adults. Although she is still a fundamentalist Christian, she will occasionally joke about my Zen background, and the other day she said, "You'd be proud of me. In a crossword puzzle today, I knew what the word 'koan' meant." Ha ha. No one is ever too old to learn and grow. She still has a lot of close-minded opinions about things, but I do not hesitate to challenge her prejudices if or when she voices them.
I was talking to a woman two weeks ago who is almost sixty years old and cringes when she is in the presence of her judgmental mother. I told her that she could change their child/parent relationship if she wanted to, but she would have to be willing to face her mother's rejection and anger. I could tell that she is not yet capable of doing that. Her mother still makes disparaging remarks about her clothes, makeup, hairstyle, and behavior because her mother still thinks of her as a child and is very controlling. Even at the age of sixty this woman is deathly afraid of her mother's anger and opinions, and until she can reveal who she really is to her mother, and deal with the consequences, their relationship will probably not change.
This is why I often tell people that the path to truth is a warrior's path. It is a path that requires being true to the truth, no matter what the consequences, and the path may lead beyond family and friends to a wholly new and unimaginable life. A warrior must be fearless and able to stand alone on the solid ground of honesty and truth.
Someone wrote to me about a year ago and said, "I have two good friends who shared the spiritual path with me for almost ten years, but when I decided to leave the comfortable world of the known behind, neither of them were willing to come with me. This is not always the price of truth, but it can be.
I tell these stories simply to point out how unpredictable the spiritual path can be, and to illustrate how friends and family can often feel threatened or angry when someone steps out of a an old familiar role and begins to stand in their own truth, calmly, fearlessly, and powerfully.
There is a TV reality program currently on air about Amish families who totally reject children who leave their faith. The children grow up in a close loving community, but the love is highly conditional, and is based on a belief system that must be shared unquestioningly. When some of the children decide to go into the outside world and leave the Amish belief system, the entire community shuns them as if they were dead, and will not even speak to them or acknowledge their presence. This is incredibly painful for the children, and the reality show features this tragedy as its core issue. The children have to choose between the belief system and freedom.
Gay people have to face the same kind of potential ostracism. Some of them have parents who are totally uncompromising and closed-minded, so it takes extreme bravery to say, "This is who I am," and be willing to accept the consequences.
