I decide today to be aware of my Whole and Holy Self working within me, expressing through me. As I move through the affairs of my life, with an open mind and empty hands, I look first to my Whole and Holy Self for guidance. My only decision today is to be aware of my Whole and Holy Self—all other decisions arise out of this, in conjunction with my Self.
The Holy Self has perfect access to Divine Mind and Divine Will. By looking to the Holy Self while setting aside expectations, that access becomes available to the individual mind. My Whole and Holy Self is the Self of me. It is not outside me, it is not even within me. It just is me.
But trying to hear my Holy Self and be directed by it is like trying to hear a cat by the fire purring at a crowded banquet from across the room. People are talking, dishes are clanging, music is playing—and I should try to hear a cat purr?
I stand up from my banquet table to try to see the cat. Craning my neck, on my tiptoes, twisting to see around this table, that person, that waiter—there! By the fireplace, on a red velvet cushion, curled in a ball, thoroughly contented, completely oblivious to the noise and bustle in the room lies the cat. I can’t hear it purr, but it looks so warm and snuzzly that I can only imagine it must be purring. If I get closer, I bet I can hear it.
The person next to me asks, with increasing urgency about what I am doing, because suddenly my attention is no longer on her. She tugs my sleeve; I glance down, wave her away distractedly, look back to the cat and excuse myself. Now I’m on a mission, totally focused. I need to find out if the cat is purring. And if it is, I need to hear it.
I start walking, trying to keep my eyes on the cat. Someone stops me—stands right in front of me—and asks how my job is going. I don’t want to be rude, but you are in my way. I try to look over his one shoulder then his other, because I can’t see the cat with him standing right in front of me. Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something? I give a weak smile, nod my head, point to the other side of the room and say, “Excuse me.” and wiggle past him. I don’t much care that that perplexed you…I’m on a mission.
Distracted, I almost run into a waiter…more people wanting me to stop and talk…music playing, oh, I like this song, so many things trying to pull me away from hearing the cat purr! What the heck? But I stay focused and slowly make my way across the room. Now I can feel the warmth emanating from the huge brick fireplace. The cat certainly has a nice place for itself!
Walking right up to the cat, standing over it, it doesn’t move…and I still can’t tell if it’s purring or not. I don’t really want to disturb it, but…I need to know! I get down on my knees, still can’t hear the purr. I touch the cat’s head, it opens its eyes sleepily and looks at me like, “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you.” It does a little flip-turn, so that it’s now looking up at me from almost on its back. I scratch its chin—I can feel the purr-vibration, but I still can’t hear it. I bend down, put my ear to the cat’s chest and…yes. There is the purr, strong, solidly reverberating against my ear, communicating contentment.
All that…all that it took to hear the cat purr–waving away distractions, not getting caught up in the music, being (almost) rude…even when it was right in front of me I still had to get closer and make that last little effort to really hear.
Yeah, that’s what it’s like to hear your Holy Self. There are so many potential distractions and things that might veer you off course, but if you stay the path, keep focused, make that last little effort, it smiles up at you like, ” There you are. I’ve been waiting for you.” And it brings you into the thoroughly comfy, cozy world of complete contentment.