GettRinaginObvoewr the A n I n n er Lo o k a t Our Outer Differenc es
K. Murray
Katherine Murray 1
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Getting Over the Rainbow An Inner Look at Our Outer Differences
© 1992 Katherine Murray Indianapolis, IN
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Table of Contents Introduction ................................................................... 6 Chapter One: Understanding Rainbows ............. .............. 9 Needing Rainbows............................................................10 Seeing Rainb ow Express ions .............. ............. .... 12 Chapter Tw o: Seeing Personal Rain bow s .............. ......... 1 8 Rainbow Materials ...........................................................19 Building Our Rainbows ..................................................20 Cloaks of Rainbow Colors ..............................................23 Releasing the Cloak ...........................................................26 Chapter Thr ee: Seeing Our Ow n Rainb ows ............ ........ 3 0 Building Our Rainbows ..................................................30 Rainbow Inspection..........................................................35 Chapter Four: Letting Go and Loving Color ............ ........ 4 3 Changing Perspectives ....................................................45 Letting Go.............................................................................45 Shining in Stillness............................................................47 Getting Past Fear ...............................................................50 Chapter Five: G etting Past the Past ............ .............. ...... 54 The Hold of the Past ..........................................................56 Arm's-Length Closeness .................................................60 Forgiving Our Selves ........................................................62 A Path of Forgiveness.......................................................64
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Chapte r Six: Weathering Storms ............ .............. ......... . 68 Understanding Misunderstanding .............................70 Healing and Helping .........................................................77 Being the Source .................................................................79 Chapter Seven: Some Uncoloring Exercises ............. ........ 8 2 Erasing Ourselves..............................................................83 Origins of Light ..................................................................86 Spreading It Around.........................................................89 Chapt er Eight : The Illusion of Becoming ............. ............ 9 2 The Trap................................................................................94 The Effort of Becoming .....................................................97 Being.......................................................................................99 Chapte r Nine: Lett ing Other Rainbow s Shine ............. .. 102 Not Being Right ............................................................... 106 Respecting Rainbows.................................................... 108 Chapter Ten: Seeing Beauty in Rainb ows .............. ....... 112 Beauty and Newness..................................................... 114 Seeing Real Beauty ......................................................... 115 From the Inside Out ....................................................... 119 Chapter Eleven: Raising Rainb ow -Fr ee Children .......... 124 Before Labels .................................................................... 126 Preserving the Light ...................................................... 131
Chapter Twelve: Celebra ting Light ............ .............. .... 134 Celebrating Connection................................................ 136
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Celebrating Sameness ................................................... 137 Endings ...................................................................... 141
Dedication To Grandpa Dave, Because you remember...and love...and smile. :) Love, Kath
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Introduction There are lots of us out here in the world wondering why. Why is the sky blue? Why are the trees green? Why do birds sing? Why are we born? Why does our existence seem to be monopolized by an endless string of annoying details? What is the key to final, lasting happiness? Why do we have such a tough time understanding ourselves? Questions are understandable. Questioning is addictive. The deeper we look into things, the more we look at ourselves; the more we look at ourselves, the more the quest may seem both endless and pointless. Sometimes even hopeless. But eventually, no matter what we ’t work) the way it are questioning—why our government works (or doesn ’s so does, why our teenagers are slipping beyond our grasp, why there
—we are eventually turned around to see much violence all around
ourselves. The answer begins and ends with us. Did you ever get the feeling that we sometimes make life harder than it has to be? We program ourselves to believe that nothing in life is easy—that happiness doesn’t just happen—that good things come only to
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those who practically work themselves to death. Or get really, really lucky. It’s not true. Why do birds sing? Perhaps ’its because they don’t have anything to do all day except fly around, visit birdfeeders and gardens, and sing ’t analyze everything with joy. Whatever the reason, they probably don
they do, sizing themselves up against other birds, evaluating their performance. They just are. And they’re true to their nature. There’s a lesson there for us, too. Nature provided us with all the direction we need to make sense of our lives. And the lessons we learn from the world around us are not complicated and esoteric and available only to an intellectual few. They are as straightforward as an honest smile. How many times in your life so far have you seen a rainbow? —color sweeping You can probably remembe the last rainbow you saw
across the sky, reaching from one horizon to another, all within the scope of your very own sight. Rainbows are part mystery, part miracle, part
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completely explainable science, but they never fail to bring awe when they paint themselves across our skies. And rainbows follow us like the moon, did you ever notice? As we move, the rainbow hangs there in the sky, a creation relative to our perspective. This book uses the amazing and awe-inspiring image of the rainbow to explain the beautiful, striking, and amazingly varied expressions we create with the energy we bring forth in our lives. The idea is that the light at our center—love, essence, spirit —is not the color we see and share, but that there is a way to connect and love all the beautiful masterpiece we are when we stand side by side. We can learn to relate, communicate, forgive, and even love from that deeper place of light and —
love within us, while seeing the colors for what they arebeautiful expressions of divine light.
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Chapter One
Understanding Rainbows My daughter st umbled out t o the end of the sidewalk, hav ing eaten a few mouth fuls of a br eakfast sh e really didn't w ant , struggling to force the slee py look from her face before the scr eeching of bra kes and t he hushed whoosh of a door opening announced the ar rival of the school bus. She stoo d there, sta ring vacant ly down t he road, with her purple bookba g, her b lack, pink, and y ellow leggings, and her b right b lue sweater. She was a rainbow. And from t he moment she w oke up t his morning, she was an emotional rainb ow, too. Grumbling and grumpy at first light. Calm and quiet eating breakfast. Te nse and irr itab le when searching f rant ically for her lost Science book. Affectionate when she kissed me goodbye. Smiling when I reminde d her that Grandma a nd Grandpa w ere coming later. She's also par t of a bigger ra inb ow. Once she boar ded the school bus, she meshed with a la rger r ainb ow of humanit y. Kids of all ages,
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different sexes, numerous religious heritages, different ethnic backgrounds, var ious economic groups comprise a much larger ra inb ow at h er elementar y school. And the group of kids at her elementa ry school each r epresent t heir own r ainbow , par t of the bigger school rainb ow, and part of a much bigger rainb ow -- the rainb ow of all child ren across the world.
Needing Rainbows Confusing, isn't it? When w e st op to think o f who w e are, what groups w e're part of, where we fit, w e see that t he more we loo k, the more w e see. We mold and sh ape and lump and gr oup ours elves, making sure tha t we belong somewhere. We do n't want to b e floating out there, unat tached to any gr oup, while the rest of world lives in communion. We join clubs a nd groups and r evel in our ethnic diff erences. Underneath it all, we w ant to make sure w e fit so w e won't b e alone. So w e join r ainb ows on a societal level and feel some sense of comra dar ie and unders tanding. At least in t his group w e've joined, or in this family, or in this church, there are pe ople who unde rs tand us.
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Yet a conflicting par t of us tells us w e mus t b e individuals, too. Yes, we need to j oin thin gs, but we need to r etain our independence. You wear your ha ir sh ort, so I 'll wear m y ha ir long . He just b ought a tr uck, so I'll buy s omething di fferent. We begi n cr eating our ow n rainb ows, out of litt le color la bels w e stick on ou rselves. We nee d to b e different, but we need to b e the sam e. Our lives b ecome a cont inual s tr uggle of individuali ty and unif ormity . We w ant to b e alike enough to unde rs tand each other, but not s o much alike that w e lose our selves. After enough pra ctice, we get used to our ow n rainb ows and operate within t hem w ith lit tle tr ouble. See? We're finished. We're independent, and we're part of a group. We f it and we stand out. T he perfectly ba lanced life. Except that we're living o n th e su rface. We're only looking at th e rainb ow, not th e light underneath. When you and I u nderst and tha t underneath all t hose "needs" (the need to belong , the need to be individual), there is a s pirit that needs nothing. It's our selves tha t w ant. Our selves cr eate identities an d add lab els to fulfill our need s. The spirit just loves.
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"There's no one like me on the face of the ear th," we'r e used to say ing. We th ink w e ar e unique. We look different from oth er people. We sound different . We hav e different experienc es, families, feelings, goals. But underneath, the sameness of us all gleams softly, w aitin g to be discovered.
Seeing Rainbow Expression s What is a rainb ow? Not colored light, not cur ved light; just light . The colors of the r ainbow ar e simply dif ferent ex pressions of that same light. All those dif ferences t hat seem t o make us dif ferent on t he sur face are just that: on the surface. They don't change the ide ntical Godlight t hat exists in all of us, in th e quiet, all - lov ing place of the spirit . Our exterior s don't chan ge the r eal us. All our st ruggling to show how independent and unique we are doesn't h ide the fact tha t w e're connected by something much de eper than any outer char acteristics could show. Those char act erist ics come and g o, but they don't define us. Those chara cteristics- -w hether y ou're talk ing about physical attr ibutes li ke
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skin color or hair color or int angible chara cteristics like envy or hope- are merely express ions of our spir it, of our light. For example, suppose that y ou've had a r eally r ough day at the office. You're on your w ay home wh en you realize the car is almost completely out of gas. You don't t hink y ou have enoug h t o make it t he last few miles t o your house. You stop at t he closest gas s tat ion an d wind up wa iting--five minute s, ten minutes, f ifteen minutes- -as the elderly la dy in front of you figures out how to use the gas pump. A s the seconds tick aw ay, you find yours elf gett ing more and more f rustr ated. Finally, w hen you g o insid e to pay, the cl erk is in no particular h urr y t o rin g you up. You're mad. Does th at m ean you're an angry person? Will you carr y t hat lab el wit h you every day of your life , defining yours elf with it ? Of course not. It w as one simple incide nt in a lifetime f illed with zillions of simple inc idents. Perhaps you reacted more str ongly t han you usually would, but so w hat? You w ere stressed and you 'd had a ba d day. T hat
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doesn't make you an angry pers on. That an ger was s imply an expression of your energy, and it fade d aw ay as quickly a s it ca me. That anger didn't make you any different. It w as j ust h ow y ou expressed your self in that instant. In th is sam e way , the things w e do in our lives, the label s w e use to define ourselves, are sim ply expressions of what we really are . They ar e just litt le part s of us that come an d go. They do not define us. How m any expressions go acr oss y our face in a single d ay? Thousands, proba bly . Wh en your husba nd asks w hen you are go ing to the store, your expression may s how t houghtfulness, peacefulness, or irr itat ion (or any number of o ther things) . When your daughte r shows you her report car d, a difference expression cr osses y our face. Like these facial express ions t hat come and go , other expressions of the self are fleeting. Emotions ar e easy t o see as t emporar y -- we experience so man y of them in the cours e of a day . But it's more difficult to underst and t hings like se xual pr eference, skin colo r, an d mora l va lues as expressions w hen they se em to stay w ith a person f or an entire lifetime.
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Many years ago, when I was w orking as an ed itor fo r a large publish ing compan y, a new editor j oined the depart ment. She was quiet, gentle. I was draw n to her. She and I became good friends v ery quickly, and w e bot h acknowledg ed how connected- -under th e sur face--w e felt. Outw ar dly, our r ainbow s mat ched in many ways : our philoso phies, our humor, our individual like s and dislikes made us seem m ore alike than we wer e different. After we'd been good friends for fou r year s, she told me she w as a lesb ian. I nodded and s miled. "So?" I asked. "Did you a lready know?" s he w ondered. "Oh, I don't know. I suppos e so," I answ ered. "Why didn't y ou ever a sk me?" "It didn't make any difference," I said. She had tr ouble underst anding w hy, if we were so connected , I had never as ked her about her s exual preference. I had no answ er then. But now I do. Her sexuality is j ust a n expressio n of her spirit. And it's her spirit that I know; that's where the connection is. Her sexual preference does
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not ch ange the w ay I love her at her essence. T he sexual prefe rence of a person is just the outside, the phy sical s elf, like one facial expression showing an inwar d truth. The same can b e said for t he color of the skin. Now , gra nted, the differences in our skin color can not go undetected for four y ears . Our s kin tones ar e no surpr ise. We know inst ant ly w hen someone belongs to a different eth nic group than w e do. It's t oo bad w e can't get to k now t hem in spirit first, so w hen they sa y, "You know, I'm b lack" (or w hite or w hatever) we can sa y "That doesn't make any difference." We put so much emphas is on w hat we see. We live lifetimes making judgments b ased on our ow n perceptions. W e group people together by race, by s ex, by r eligion and then w e place a mental sta mp on the w hole group. We wr ite entire populations of f as inferior to th ose who match ou r own r ainbow s. We even apply this visual judgme nt to ourselves. When wa s th e last tim e you looked at your self in the mirr or and loved what you saw ? Few of us are happy w ith our phys ical
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appeara nces. Even fashion models continually diet, chan ge their hair color, worr ying about t heir muscle to ne. Why do w e do it? Why do we hurt ourselves? If we und erstood that what we are judg ing is th e rainbow , not the light, w e wouldn't fee l th e need to mold ourselves and s hape ours elves and tr y to live up to some body else 's int erpretation of be auty . If we understood that the us we are looking for is not s omeone w e can see with our eyes in a m irr or b ut someo ne we can fe el all around and w ithin us, we wouldn't place so muc h importan ce on wh at w e look at w ith these human eyes. And may be if we could be more loving wit h our selves and the physical fo rm s w e inhab it, we w ould be mo re loving wit h every one around us. And the rainb ows would fade.
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Chapter Two Seeing Person al Rainbows
All the d etachme nt we see in our socie ty is a mir ror of the detachment w e feel within ours elves. When w e say "People don't unde rstand each other," we'r e really saying I don't understand me. "You can't find an honest pers on any more" become s I'm not honest
with myself. "There's so much violence every where" is really I use violence to
motivate my self. Healing start s w ith us. T hat's why it's importa nt t o get a feeling for t he rainbow s w e repre sent personally bef ore we loo k at t he multit ude of ra inb ows existing in our w orld. Chan ge your self and change the w orld, so the say ing goes. But "change" in this sense, is not some action w e perform , some spir itual exercise we pr actice to make o ur
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muscles str onger. Real change is a nat ura l process like grow ing that happens only when w e free our selves. An opening up. A blooming o f our inner na tur e.
Rain bow M aterials From the time w e are small, w e go thr ough our lives putt ing litt le colored lab els on our s elves. These labels hav e nothing to do with the light w e are in th e center of our spir its . The labels serv e only to help us identify ours elves, to build our selves up, to ma ke ourselves something. The lab els are our pr otective answ er to the nee d to belong and the need to be sta nd out. Each lab el has a color of the rainb ow. Like this giant t agging system, each chara ct erist ic we claim as "ours" st icks to us, defining our sha pe, molding our identit y. Perhaps you play ed footb all. You could hav e accurat ely said "I'm a footb all play er." Add a red label. But that w asn't all you w ere.
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You took on other la bels as well. "I'm no good at r oller skatin g," or "I love to w atch t elevis ion." Blue lab el, purple lab el. Perhaps y ou didn't like to dra w but you loved music. You l iked to w ear cow boy boots. You didn't like tennis shoes. You hat ed Chinese food, but preferred Mexican to any other. None of these individual prefe rences summed up the t otal y ou. They w ere litt le pieces of color t hat added to your r ainb ow. You accumulat e these labels until y ou have a cloak of magnificent color, completely enshr ouding you, prot ecting you, giving you something to look at in t he mirror . But th e ra inbow is an illusion. I t's w hat we see on the outside. It points to beyond. You ar e not t he cloak you're w earing. Yo u are much more than that .
Building Our Rainbows It seems t hat it is pa rt of our DNA to lab el ourselves. O ur lab els give us r eassur ance that we "fit" somewhere. I'm a skier, I'm a painter , I'm a w riter, I'm a mot her, I'm a w ife-- what do all these labels do? They
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serv e to define a pers on by her act ions. None of these lab els ar e correct. Each of these labels is only a n expression t he person in h er essence , her spirit. We build the se little co stumes t o w ear t hr ough our lives, w oven of different colors and fibers . Wh en I wa s small, I considered mys elf an artis t. I played wit h dolls. I rode my b ike. I roller skat ed. I made silly faces. I danced ar ound the dinner t able putt ing napkins on my head and acting stupid. When I got older, I man aged pet st ores, I wr ote a litt le, I played guitar, I had too many anima ls, I drove a beat -up Mustan g, and I had tr ouble tr ustin g people. Then I became a w ife, a st ep-m om and a r egular mom, adopted more dogs, tur ned into a housek eeper, a nur sery school teacher, an editor , and a freelance writ er. Then I was divor ced, the mother of tw o, the owner of a house , the driv er of a Bronco, the careta ker of a dog and a cat , a st udent, a busine ssow ner, a wr iter, a musici an, a tr uthseeker, and a r apidly nearing-the-ed ge-of-insan ity ty pe A personality.
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Who am I? Light. Each of the role s I put on co ntrib uted another lab el to the garment I w as m anufacturing. I t w as a costume o f great colo r, a r ainbow rob e, and it fit me as w ell as a ny fab ricated coverin g could. But one day a seam r ipped. And another. And another. And the ra inb ow r obe fell aw ay, leaving nothing e xcept me in my essence. Just light. Same as y ou. The same as eve ry pers on you mee t a t t he libr ary , at t he stor e, at the gas st ation. Each pers on you see on the evening new s. The same as th e president. The same as every homeless pers on on the street. The sam e as each new infant s tr uggling for life in a pediat ric intensive care unit. Look at your ha nd. In t he center of that hand, no mat ter w hat the color of the flesh, th ere's a glimmer of lig ht. And in t he ar m, and th e chest, and the he ad, and every other pa rt of the mechanism w e call the body. Inside that hand is t he same light t hat is in Mother Teresa, Ghandi, and Martin Luther King . In t hat hand is t he same li ght shar ed by all the greatest an d most notorious peo ple ever bor n.
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The rest is all rainb ow.
Cloaks of Rainbow Colors If you give most peopl e a blank sheet of paper w ith t he wor ds "Wh o Am I?" at t he top, they'll w rit e you a br ief resume of past accomplishments.
From a CEO: "Chief Executiv e Officer of So-a nd-So Corpora tion, 4 years. Vice Presid ent of This- and-That Corporat ion, 12 years. Annual sala ry 1.2 million. Prim ary r esidence on Long Island, secondar y residence in the Cayma n Islands. P riv ate j et. Graduated H arv ar d, with honors, 1962."
From a college professor: "Professor of English, Lo yola Universit y, 198 4-present. Memb er of seven adj unct commit tees, co-ch air of Panel for Integrit y in Education. Pu blish ed in ma ny academic jour nals . Mother of thr ee children, age s 14 , 12, and 9. Live in Bo urb onnais, Illi nois, and driv e an Audi."
From a mother:"I'm 30 years old and I've be en ma rr ied seven y ears. I have tw o children, Nic ole and Roger, wh o ar e five and t wo. I attended I.U. for a w hile, but didn't finish. I am s tart ing a sma ll editing busin ess
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so that I can w ork at home, br ing in some inco me, and still st ay home with my children." These people are r ight, of cours e. Their b iogra phies accur ately repr esent s ome of the outer s ta tist ics in t heir lives. Those are the people they see in the mirr or. But they ar e also muc h, much more than t heir biogra phies can tell us. Who ar e the people beneat h the cloaks? What do those faces show when they hav e no facial e xpression? The bio graphie s w e weave ar e no more than a sum t otal of o ur expressions. O ur list of past accompl ishments and fail ures at tach to us, colored labels on ou r cloaks. We wr ap th em a round us and de fine ourselves w ith t hem. We know we're someone. We know we belong. There's no har m in hav ing these cloaks. We do have realitie s t o deal w ith, after a ll. Our ch ildren nee d us. We hav e paperw ork to do. The dog has a v et appointment. Life calls.
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The only har m w e do to ourselves happe ns w hen w e think that the cloaks ar e all w e are. We're so much more than t hat . We're peace, in our essence . True, unconditional love. Those rainb ow colors ar e just one expression that show s its elf to the ou tside wo rld. They ar e something tangible or identifiable, some thin g we can hold on to and say "This is me. I'm a w rit er." But I fool myself. I'm not a w riter. I'm a spir it w ho w rites. I'm not a mother. I 'm a spirit who mothe rs . Are you o verw eight? No you're no t: y ou're a spir it w ho inhabits a shell larger t han socie ty 's thin st andard. Are you near- sighted? Nope, just a s pirit who exist s inside a body th at needs glasses. The costume s w e wear are manufactured by our m inds. They a re cloaks of ra inb ow colors w e put together ours elves, thr ough the cours e of our lives. All those things that disappo int y ou about yourself-- that 's not you . That 's j ust a la bel you've stuck on your ide ntity cloak. It can come off as easily as it was put on. T here's a s pirit inside there that t he lab el can never touch. The spirit is perfect.
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Releasing the Cloak The feeling of being more is b oth fr eeing and comfor ting. Finding our spirits beyond the limite d vision of our minds is a process that eventually happens to everyone, when they ar e ready . The spirit leads so silently t hat you don't know y ou're being l ed, until one day y ou look in the mirror and know t hat's n ot all there is. Those wr inkles ar ound your eyes that w eren't t here ye sterday. That s ingle gray hair that keeps grow ing back. Yo u see y ourself aging, on the surface, but inside you don't feel any different. You don't feel any older th an y ou did w hen you w ere in high schoo l. But t he exterior is grow ing older, looking more mat ure, more sett led. Why don't we trust that feeling we ex perience on the inside ? We're not gett ing any older. Not t he real us. O ur ph ysical bodies, these strange gangly mechanism s, are show ing signs of overuse. But the spir it has no age. "Seeing is b elieving" has been a cliche th at ingrain ed itself in our br ains like no o ther. How do w e know we're not gett ing any older? Can
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we prove it? Is there some k ind of a scientific test t o prove tha t t he spirit doesn't age? Umm....no. How can w e believe th ings w e don't s ee? How do we know, if we take off these rainb ow cloaks, if w e allow all expression t o fade from our faces, that we won't wither a nd die? If we aren't Mom and W ife and Student an d Employee, who ar e we? Can w e take the r isk of letting go of the protec tive pe rs pective if we don't kno w what w aits for us on the other s ide?
Faith. We have pr oof all ar ound us, proof from before we w ere even born . There ar e arms to uphold u s. There is an eternal por ch light gleaming, w aitin g for y ou to come home . Remember t hat look that Gra ndma used to gi ve you, like you were the best child ever b orn? Or a gleam from a friendly teacher? O r a smile from a str anger? Those w ere the ar ms embr acing you .
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Remember black days of co nfusion and tur moil that were suddenly shot t hrough w ith a single, unexplicab le bolt of hope? There's tha t porch light, shimmering br ightly in the night, g iving you direction. But we w ant it in w rit ing. We don't have a lif etime writ ten contr act w ith our hig her power t hat w e will alw ays b e safe. Or happy. Or contented. We want something to see , to hold, to touch, that say s "This Is Tr ue." The spir it doesn't need assur ances. Only t he self- -t he mechan ism with t he capab ilities of seeing, holding, and touching -- want s proof. But our spirit s know those arms ar e there. And wh en we st op try ing to uphold our selves, wh en we let our spirits shine throug h those restr ictive rainbow cloaks, we get t o truly feel those arms for t he firs t t ime. And w e all nestle toge ther in those ar ms, free of our colors, free of our judgments of each other. We're all e nveloped in this giant b ear -hug of humanity , radiating lig ht and loving e ach other. W hen w e can shr ug
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off our r ainb ow cloaks, the love c omes pourin g out. And by a llowing ourselves to be e mb ra ced, we can embr ace our selves and our planet. And all we nee d to star t w ith is t he single flicker ins ide us r ight now.
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Chapter Three
Seeing Our Own Rainbows My son slee ps under a ra inbow bla nket I crochete d wh ile I was pregnant . During th e night, he wraps h imself in it s o completely I c an't tell, from the bunch ed-up str ips of color, w hich end is his head and which is his fe et. Often I stan d over him for the last few silent moments before he aw akens an d think about th e different identit ies he alr eady has. Nintendo player. A rt ist . Cat lover. B unny lover. Outdoorsma n. Friend-to-everyone (except his sister). Grandpa's boy. And he's only fo ur. He already fills up all the prima ry colors of his ra inbow , and the n some.
Building Our Rainbows When we're born , we haven't y et begun assembling ou r rainb ows. We do n't do things. We aren't tr ying to be anyb ody. We cry, and someone br ings us a b ottle. We cry again, and someo ne comes to hold and r ock us. Nice.
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And the n one day w e realize that w e're somebody. Somebody separ ate from Mo mmy . Somebody who can t hrow things. So mebody who can w alk. We're independent. W e're capable of see ing a toy w e want and w illing our fat little le gs to carr y us over t o it. Our h ands reach for t he obj ect of our desire. We can make things happen. There comes a tim e when our aw areness of our selves chan ges from self-discovery to self-identit y. Okay , so w e've got th is w alking thing do wn pat. W e've lear ned the bas ics about v erbal communication and the do 's and don'ts of te mper tant rums . But w hat, exactly, are w e? Are w e a good basketb all play er, like Mike, or ar e we b etter a t m usic, like Ludwig? Are w e more like Daddy or Mommy ? Where do we fit? In th is proce ss of try ing on va rious role s, w e adopt and thr ow aw ay m any different colors of the rainb ow. If you've bee n ar ound children, you know the process. F rom the time my daughter w as t hr ee, people would ask he r what she w anted to be w hen she g rew up. "A garbageman" w as her first answ er. After t hat, her car eer goals change d as often as h er moods. A t nine, she sett led in t o being a w rit er like her mom (notice me sw elling wit h pr ide). The next st ep was t o wr inkle her
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nose at the thoug ht of writing and say "No way ! I'm going to be an artist!" (see me deflate). In the middle of these career decisions came a staggering ran ge of personalit y ch anges, emotional uphe avals, and moral iss ues. She was seeking to define her self. Try ing on roles, like a child tr ying on he r mother's dresses. In our mid- to late teens, this play ing becomes more serious. We feel the pr essure of lif e, the pressur e of our friends, and t he press ure of our par ents' ex pectations w eighing down on us. What will we do with our lives? What ty pe of people will w e become? We star t clutch ing at ans wers. Labels st art flying ar ound us; some st ick, and some don't . Good student. Troubled teen. Drinker. Good girl. Christian. Athlete. Musician. Druggie. Things b ecome even mor e confusing wh en our sexuality gets in the wa y. Now not only are w e tr ying to d efine who we are and wh ere we fit, but now we're exp eriencing ho rm one shifts that classif y what we are. Str ongly male. Timidl y female. (Or v ice versa .) Heterosexua l. Bisexual. Homosexual. For most of us, th e desir e is t here and t he av enue
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we follow (and the labels w e adopt) stick with us t hroughout our lives. Promiscuous. Frigid. Aggressive. Shy. Macho. Sensitive. The really horr ible thing about all this label- adoption is that while we are tr yin g on all th ese lab els, every one else around us is doing the same th ing. Our par ents hav e alread y accumul ated their st ore of lab els. They've go t t hemselves fi gured out a nd all w rapped in co lors (or so it seems t o us at the time). But most of us d on't w ant the lab els our par ents ha ve chosen, even thoug h th ey seem to w ant us to follow t heir lead. We w ant to b e ourselves. We r each for independence. We look to our friends. As our most accurate mir rors of what's really goi ng on inside us, our friends help u s pick labels th at suit us on t he surface. "Man, y ou look cool in long hair " encourages us to leave our hair longer tha n usual. "Who needs to w ork?" another friend says , insert ing the seeds of nonconform ity t hat our par ents m ay no t b e happy w ith. Do w e know what we are und erneath all this label ado ption business? Our spirits do.
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And our s pirit s allow us to pick up all these multicolo red labels and st ick them on our ra inbow cloaks, coverin g up any litt le bit of space thr ough w hich t he light could shine. We line up lik e kids in t he school cafeteria lunch line, those mauv e tr ays before us w ith t he five separat e compar tments. And we walk thr ough the line, one after anot her, allow ing the cooks to pile lab els and labels on our plat es. Som e we'll take in, other s w e'll leave. Then one day we wa ke up and w e're mar ried, and we have a nice car , a nice house, and a couple of terr ific kids. Life is sedate, co mforta ble. We've picke d a pr ofession, w e've piled up b ills, and life seems t o be accelera ting at a n alar ming ra te; but w e're coping. And we w atch the news at 6:00 and w e see people rioting in the str eets. We rant and rav e about t he inj ustice d one to minorities. We discuss w orld issues w ith our college friends. We all seem to agree that the w orld is going to hell in a handb asket. And we drive by the home less familie s on our w ay to w ork and look the other w ay. And we tell ou r children not t o play w ith t he "rough" kids down the b lock.
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And we see how different w e are from each other a nd think th e world w ould be a b etter pla ce if only people were more lik e us. But w hat about us? No, not t he us on the sur face; the us underneath. Beneath that ra inb ow b lanket. Beyond those labels. Wha t ar e we doing, so silent, hidden way down there?
Rainbow Inspection We all go thr ough this pr ocess of label- adoption. As far as w e know, everyone has , since the day Adam a nd Eve covered themselves in the gar den. Meta phorically speaking, they put fig- leaf-colored labels on themselves. We're just continuing the trend. We cover our essence , the light, w ith b its of color. We think in order t o be special, we must b e unique. How can w e be the terr ific people we think w e are if we're just like everyb ody else? No, we need to st and out. Make that blond hair b londer. W ork on t hat bust line. Trim the waist . Be sma rt er th an an yone else. Succeed. As w e begin exploring t he idea of colored labels, w e tend to look for t heir point of srcin. You may w onder w ho put the labels on you.
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Wh ose idea w as it that you take L atin in high scho ol? How in the w orld did you end up ta king computer science? Origins ar en't import ant. You may tell you rs elf that y ou went into bus iness because your par ents "made" you or you adopted the "good girl" label because of your pa ris h priest , but w onderin g why a nd who and wha t only takes you furt her aw ay from losing the label s. You can j ust dr op them, at any moment. You c an fall back o n t he real y ou, the light, the spir it. Once you g et used to it, t he cloak slid es on and off easily . The firs t t ime you let it fall is the har dest . You know, w e have to have a sense o f humor ab out our pas ts. Boy, there w ere some things in my life I really mess ed up. Decisions I really b lew. Financia l moves tha t sh ould hav e sunk me. Emotional decisions ab out business events . Business de cisions ab out emotional events. So what? Those skeletons in y our closet. Wh at's t he big deal? Every one has them. Don't b e afraid of them. Laug h at t hem. How silly they look, tucked aw ay like they hav e some sor t of power over y ou. Just a pile of bones.
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Those are your skeletons, anyw ay. They b elong to your self, that person w ho appear s sleepy -eyed in the mir ror every mor ning. Do you think your spir it ma de those mistake s? The past is gone. The futur e isn't h ere yet. Now is the only moment there is. In this moment, ar e you Mom, Wife, Husb and, or Fat her? Are you Employ ee or Employ er? Are you Wh ite or Bla ck? Are you Libera l or Conserv ative? Are y ou Student or Teacher? So n or Daughter? Brunette or Redhead? Young or Old? These are not multiple choi ce questions. The ans wer is no. You, in y our essence, ar e not an y of those things. You de fine your self with t hose colored lab els. The person y ou represent in ph ysical form adopts t hose labels so th e mind has some sense of knowing its elf, some sense of being d ifferent fr om every one else. But the you we're talking ab out here is the r eal you, in spir it. The essence that is not different from any one. It's the sam e light th at pa sses th rough you and everyone in e very corner of the wor ld.
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By t he time adulthood hit us (and most of us give in grudgingly), we find we hav e at least th ese labels: A wor k label A relationship label A sexuality lab el A political la bel A talent lab el A social issues lab el And numerous preference lab els The paperb oy has his ow n set of labels. Yo ur m other has a nother set. Your children hav e anot her set. We d efine ourselves -- and unders tand each o ther -- bas ed on the co lors w e show to the w orld. Let's adopt a ficticio us person and na me her Ellen. She's a t hir ty tw o year old sing le mom, living in a city in the midwest. The ra inbow of labels she carr ies w ith her on a daily bas is might loo k like this: Work:
Support role in lar ge company
Relationships :
Divorced but dating Mother of one child
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Sexuality:
Heterosexual
Politica l:
No one looks good enough
Talent s:
Talking to people Wr iting poetr y Tennis
Preferences:
Love stories Fiction Classical or Jazz music Quiet dates Living in the suburb s
Social issues:
Contr ibut es to funding for homeless Recycles Cares ab out envir onmental issues
These, of course, are b y no means all t he labels E llen ha s adopted thr ough the years . There is anoth er level of lab els; these only s een by Ellen hers elf. They ar e the little voice s of ins ecurity tha t play inside her mind w hen she's feeling fear ful of a situa tion:
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"I never could talk in fr ont of a group." "I'd be a bett er mom if I'd sta yed mar ried." "I'm not a tt ra ctiv e enough." "I'm not intelligent enough." "I'm n o good at relat ionships." "I don't know how to t ake car e of mys elf." "What I do doesn't make a difference." The litt le, pointed inside labels hur t more tha n the ones of the outside. They ar e total fabr ications of the br ain, not th e spirit. If Ellen could silence the br ain for j ust a min ute, she would f eel th e love and peace bub bling up from w ithin . The light would make itself known, if only sh e could still that inner st ruggle for t he slightest moment. The labels don't matter. They're nothing. They'r e fiction. Just illusion.
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You are perfect in spirit, just the w ay y ou want t o be, more than any thing you dar ed hope. In your spir it, you are light, simply love. Complete, all-encompass ing, unconditional love. Our minds conv ince us w e're someone. Our m inds suck up all these labels like paper clips t o a magnet. We grab and hold these labels to convince o ur m inds-- that independent ego--tha t we are somebod y doing something important. What would happen if we le t go of our lab els? If Ellen let t he w ork lab el fall aw ay and st opped being an Employee for one silent moment, w hat would happen? She'd probab ly star t b eing Mom. Wh en she stopped being M om, she'd be the Te nnis Player. A nd w hen that was over, she'd be the A dvocate for the Homeless. But w hat if Ellen, one day, allow ed herself a sw eet few moments of silence, when she w asn't tr ying to be anyone? The labels fall aw ay, hav ing lost their pull to the magne t, and she stands t here, revealed. Almost.
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Now t he inner la bels st ar t st inging. "I should be doing something," she tells he rs elf. "I'm not accomplishin g any thin g just sit tin g here." I'm not being somebody doing something. The mind is very uncomfort ab le not b eing used. It w ill push us and prod us and f inally say some re ally aw ful things to us in a n at tempt to get us m oving again. But Ellen is not Mom or Tennis Player or Homeless Advocat e. She's a spirit who mothers, plays tennis, and bef riends t he homeless. When Ellen can unders tand t hat her mind is not lig ht, tha t her br ain doesn't know t he recipe for peace, th at h er lab els do not define her at h er essence , she'll get her firs t glimmer of that pla ce over th e ra inb ow. And that tiny little shaft of l ight will shoo t around inside her, bouncing o ff those inner lab els, tr yin g to find a w ay out thr ough th e gaps in her ra inb ow cloak. She'll feel it in ther e, zooming around, changing her perspectiv e. And she 'll w ant more.
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Chapter Four Letting Go and L oving Color So we reach this point where we ar e beginning to und erstand tha t w e've man ufact ured our selves. The self that r ememb ers to get th e oil changed and th e tir es rota ted is much dif ferent fr om the spir it t hat shines in the midst of those activit ies. The person w e see looking ba ck at us in the mir ror is j ust one express ion of the light in our essence . The fact that I have blue eyes and y ou have brow n is seemi ng less import ant, someho w. The reality that we all look in the mirr or and see o nly a fragment of what we truly ar e brings us a fe w steps clo ser toge ther. Can w e really let go of the labels our m inds ha ve produ ced? If we let t he rainb ow cloak fall from ou r shoulders, w hat will we find underneath? The kids run in . Your daughter 's friend had a w reck on her b ike and skinne d up her kne es. She's sit ting in th e driv eway cry ing. Wha t a re
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you going to do? You can't s ay "Sorr y, but the me you're loo king at is only one expression of my spir it," and r efuse to help them. Of course y ou want to help. You grab s ome ba ndages and a couple of wet paper tow els and hurr y out to the victim. You patch th ings up, wash aw ay t he tears , and w atch pr otectively as she w alks her bike down the str eet to he r house. Simply b ecause we exp lore our spir ituality doesn't mean w e won't live in the real world anym ore. Wh en we let our ra inbow s drop for an instan t, it doe sn't mean w e won't pick them b ack up. If means only that once we see the labels w e wear, w e unders tand t hat t here is an alternat ive pers pective available to us. I t's just w aiting f or us t o see it. Things tha t b othered the ou tside us don't r uffle us any more. We begin forgiving ours elves for the little human goof-ups w e experience every day. W e begin t o feel more tolerant , more accepting, o f others. Once we see wh at we are in our essence , we can understan d what others ar e in th eir essence . And we'll se e that we're all th e same.
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Cha nging Perspectives When you let go of your r ainb ow, you ar e really releasing its hold on you . You ar e no longer a capt ive of a one- dimensional w ay of thin king. You see fart her. You see anoth er dimension to t hings, to relationships, to society. Will this cloak-droppi ng change your life ? Often w e worr y that a shift in our perspectiv e may radically cha nge things. Will you feel the need for sw eeping change ? Will you give all your w orldly possess ions to the poor and chan ge your nam e to something no one can pronounce? Dropping the ra inb ow does nothing exce pt free you. You aren't obligated to cle ans e your self or live according to any new law s. You aren't r equired to just ify y our a ctions, your mora lity, your spirit uality. You're simply aw ar e that there is a deeper level yo u've bee n miss ing. That level e xist s w ithin each of us and every pers on w e meet.
Letting Go As w e explore the po ssibility that we are muc h more than the sur face "us" w e've created, we feel draw n to know more. A cra ving for
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silence begins elbowin g its w ay into our consciousness. Lif e suddenly seems s o busy. When do you have tim e for quiet? Exploring the spirit beyond th e lab els can be as simple as a br eath, as quick as a blin k of the eye. One minute your m ind is sear ching for an ans wer, and then ne xt -- there it is, within r each. You can expe rience tha t m oment of sile nce any tim e you're not talking, listening, or b eing any one. And you don't ha ve to go sear ching for it. Wh en you're ready, it comes to y ou. The moment can be uncomfo rtable. For s ome of us, it's downr ight t err ifying. Most of us spend the maj orit y of our day s filling tim e. We schedule appointments, we plan events. We work through relationship prob lems. We need to be doing something. While w e're doing the something w e're doing, we're thinking of the somethin g we'll do when we finish. W hile wa iting in th e doctor's office, we make plans fo r t he weekend. In the middle of the weekend, w e prepar e for t he week. We're uncomfortable with silence.
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Because in silence, what ar e we? If we'r e not fully inv ested in our colors , if we're not b eing Dad or Husb and or Golfer, w ho ar e we? If we hav e no action to def ine us, will w e cease to exist? It's in th e stillness th at t he light b egins t o shine. But most of u s fear that stillne ss, avoid ing at almost a ny cost t he moment where we hav e nothing to do, nothin g to thin k, and no one to be. Our m inds push us into ac tivit y, but the spirit w aits patiently. Yo ur spirit knows y ou'll find it w hen you need to.
Shining in Stillness You find yours elf looking for opport unities t o be q uiet. Perha ps the kids ha ve gone to play a t t he neighbor' s an d, on impulse, you tur n off the TV. The ho use is ba thed in silence. Sure, the laundry needs to b e done, but it can w ait a few min utes. You sit down on the couch. You're not b eing anyone's Mom, an yone's W ife, or any one's Employee. You feel a w ar m something spread ing throug h y our stomach, your chest. Yo ur breaths come easie r. Peace.
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And then your son comes scr eeching in from the ya rd. His sis ter hit him with a stick and he 's cr ying for j ustice . Your daughter is close on his heels, pr eparing her defense. What did that feel like, a moment ago? And then -- zap-- as quickly as the peace came, it goe s, and y ou're st uck right in the middle o f being Mom. Those of us w ho are invest ed in our lives and th e relat i onships in those lives ca nnot exist in silence, in peacefulness, all t he time. We probab ly w ouldn't eve n w ant to. It's easy t o be enlightened sitting on a mountaintop with no schedules, no strings, no responsibilities. But living i n th e real world give s us opportunity to let t he love flow through us. To o ur kids, to our neighb ors, t o our spouses, to our par ents, to people we don't even know. It's an eternal challenge, to keep ours elves aw are that we ar e more than our labels but to le t th e labels come and go as t hey must . It's all us. We need to love it all.
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Let's just not sh ortchange ou rs elves any more. Let's r emember that we're more than phy sical bod ies, that w e're more than a mass ive sys tem of organs that live in reaction to de manding world. Seeing that w e have l abels is the impo rt ant par t. We can let go, when w e want to. We can understand our lives, our selves, and e ach other. W e can br eak down t he bar riers of co lor we set up b etween our selves. When it's t ime to put th ose labels ba ck on, w e can do it. But underneath there's now an unde rs tanding that the labels are only one part of us-- one little e xpressio n of the re al us -- that exists in the lig ht. That m oment of understa nding comes slowly t o those of us w ho feel insecure doing nothing. We're afra id to let g o of the labels, because we feel th at those colors a re w hat makes us goo d people. "I'm a bett er housekeeper t han any one I know." "I had more sale s last month t han a ny other salespe rs on." "I was pr omoted three times in tw o years." We need to underst and tha t by out-competing other peo ple, we don't make o urs elves better. W e're not good because of what we do. We're good because of what we are. Wha t m akes us b reat h, love, hope,
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help? Spirit . We don't n eed to feed our egos. We don't n eed to b e the best looking, th e most successful , the highest paid. We don't need to accomplish a ten- item To Do list every day in order t o be fulfilled. We're alr eady fulfilled. We're alr eady w hole. We're alr eady perfect. We just n eed to let it s hine thr ough. So the next t ime a potent ial moment comes t o you, take a deep br eath. That 's a ll. Nothing else. Just br eathe. Let a couple of lab els fall aw ay. For t hat moment -- even if it's t he tinie st s and- speck of time-allow y ourself to feel that y ou ar e much mor e than y ou ever ima gined. Know that in your spir it y ou already kno w every thing, unders tanding everything, are everyt hing. In spirit w e ar e all comple te love, and w e when take off those r ainb ow cloaks t hat we think make us "different ," the light of love comes pourin g thr ough. It's a na tur al process. We ar en't
trying to b e loving. We ar en't trying to be compassionate. We are love and compass ion, and it s hines from us unhindered.
Getting Past Fear We all hold on. We clutch t o unhealthy relat ionships. W e keep platform shoes and old ty pewri ters a nd 8-t ra ck tapes. We prote ct our
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bad habit s; we stay in jobs where we're mise ra ble. We keep playing messages w e received as childr en over and over in our heads, long after we've reached adulthood . And we carr y all this b aggage ar ound wit h us because w e're afraid. What would life be like wit hout t his b aggage? Like a set of multi colored luggage, they'v e all b ecome color lab els, of one sort or anoth er. Our br ains tell us w e need them. "If I quit m y j ob, how w ill I act? Wha t will I do all day? " or "I know I should get r id of this old st ereo, but what if I want it b ack some day ?" When we're talking about something as impo rt ant as t he very way we unders tand ourselves, changing our pers pective can b e frightening. There's a big split betw een phy sical and spir itual life. We make the spl it b igger than it needs to b e. When you und erstan d that you are much more tha n someone's Mom or someone 's W ife, you don't s top those relationships, you just understand yourself differently, more truly. Wh en you unders tand tha t y ou are not a Te nnis Player but a spirit of light who plays tennis occasio nally, your pers pective change s.
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Lett ing go of labels do esn't m ean w e won't use those labels anym ore. It j ust means w e stop kidding ourselve s -- short -changing ours elves--int o thinking that t hose labels represe nt a ll w e are. We come to love the labels w e've adopted. We emb ra ce them, because they a re part of the sur face "us," pers onas w e needed to help us along this w inding path into our ow n spir its. We see those parts of our lives not as roles w e play but gifts, opport unities, to shar e the love inside us. In y our essence, you ar e not someone's mother , but being Mom gives you a tr emendous outle t for shar ing the li ght tha t w ells up w ithin y ou. What happens w hen we allow t he silence to fill us up? We may be afraid of the unknown . Those "wha t ifs" get prett y t hr eatening, when our b rains run r ampant thr ough our conscio usness. Remember the baby w ho wasn't tr ying to do any thing o r be any one? The ba by just w as. And when he cried , someone came and took car e of him. Someone chan ged him a nd fed him a nd rocked him. Those arms ar e still there.
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When you stop being some body doing so mething and allow the silence to bub ble up wit hin y ou, you feel those arms, support ing you, rocking you. Your spir it is s o glad to finally meet y ou. Close your eyes and let y ourself feel the love all ar ound you, run ning thr ough you, freeing you of your lab els. See tha t t he love is light. And unders tand t hat this is the point w here the he aling be gins.
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Chapter Five Getting Past the Past As far a s w e know, we humans ar e the onl y cr eatures that ha ve time- based peripheral v ision. We can b e standing in the prese nt, flash back to th e past, and make projections of the f utur e. Our act ions r ight now depe nd on w hat our m ind shows us a b out w hat w e've done before and what we might do tomo rr ow. Let's take an example. Suppose your friend calls and w ant s you to go to a movie. In th at m oment, you think "Well, I just w ent to a movie yest erday ," and beg off. Or perha ps y ou're planning to go to a movie this weekend, so you say no. Your mind play s back wh at y ou did yesterday and w hat you might do next w eekend, and so, even t hough you really like the friend and would enj oy t he movie, you de cline. Animals, our sim pler counterpar ts, seem to do none of that . They live, they eat, t hey s leep, they s mile (it's in t he eyes). I've y et t o see our dog Trix ie convince herself to d o any thing. It's only a guess, but I would
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wager t hat she doesn't think "Hmmm m, I just w oke up from a nap fiftee n minutes ago , so I'd bett er w ait t o take ano ther nap for at least an h our. If I sleep this afternoon, I mig ht not s leep t onight." To Trixie, there is no fifteen minutes ago, no tonight. There's only now. How can we be ali ve in this m oment if allow the mome nt to be laden wit h pas t mist akes an d futur e fears ? How can w e ever get clear enough t o hear our own voices if w e car ry all this b aggage ar ound w ith us? Almost every moment w e live is a mixt ure of past and future. We g et upset w ith our spouses because they always give us th at look when come home late from w ork. We get frus tr ated with t he kids because they never listen to us. Alway s a nd neve r ar e based o n past and futur e. We're upse t because not only h ave t hese people not liv ed up to our expec ta tions in the past, b ut t hey're giving us more e vidence that they w ill fail to do so in th e futur e. If we were living in th e moment, we'd be able to see the b ehavior, or experience, for w hat it is. It w ould wash over us like the first t ime it
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ever happened . We wouldn't fe el the frust ration of "know ing" it w ill happen again in the fu tur e and th inking boy, will we be upset when it does! Being here in the moment sets y ou free of reactions t hat pile up on you like dust on fine w ood. In each moment , we can get t hat dust cloth out and w ipe those reactions aw ay. W e can b e new and fresh in th e experience. We can deal w ith people and experiences honest ly w ithout the filters of the past or futur e to interfe re. So what does this h ave to d o with ra inbow s and lig ht? Everything.
The Hold of the Past Before we underst and th e difference betw een th e rainb ow a nd the light, w e tend to think of o ur s elves as the sum of all our expe riences. Our biographies provide u s w ith a history of events we've ac complished or goals w e've met. We lo ok in the mirr or and w e thi nk of how we've changed and w onder w hat we'll look like in th e futur e. But there's o nly now .
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The past is a memory and th e future is specu lation. Rememb ering and spe culating ar e tw o favorit e past times of the mind. They ha ve nothing to do with t he spirit. The spirit j ust loves, in this m oment, tr uly. When, forgetting spir it, w e think of our selves, we refle ct b ack over every thin g that has h appened to us to get us here, as t hough th e past events are still a p ar t of the curr ent us. We c ar ry the past w ith us, allowing it to de fine the way we are, contr ol the way we act. We e ven use the p ast to proj ect h ow other people will act a round us. But th e past is j ust a s eries of stepping stones, stretched out across a w ide, rippli ng str eam. The sun shines down thr ough the leaves of the tr ees along th e bank. In some spots, the st ream is deep, in others, sha llow enough to see the moss -cover ed rocks and g old-b rown pebb les along the bott om. Uneven stones divide the f low of the str eam as it rushes tow ard a waterfall hund reds of yar ds beyond. You step f rom one stone to anoth er, try ing to keep your b alance, as you move f rom place to place.
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One rock is slippery and uneven. It hurt s t he bott om of your foot. You bolster y our courage and move to another r ock. This one seems safer. Yet a nother r ock up ahead lo oks ominous, but y ou know you hav e to tr y it . There's no w here to go but onw ar d. You would never th ink of picking up those rocks and car ry ing them w ith you. They would knock you off balan ce, of course. And y ou really co uldn't car ry more than one or tw o. The rocks w eigh y ou down as y ou try to navigate the new r ocks. The rocks sa p you of your energy a nd freshness and r ob y ou of your chance for healing. Leave the past in the past . Those rocks w ill serv e as st epping stones for s omeone followin g you. You don't n eed them a nymore. Our past experiences ar e--a nd shoul d be--s pecial to us as w e come to a deeper meaning of our s elves. Looking back is okay , comfort ing, even-- unless w e get st uck there. Unless we look back and say "I should have been a b etter m other," or "I never sh ould hav e quit that j ob." We do the best w e can in t he moment.
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And then w e step to th e next st one. If we're carry ing roc ks wit h us, we w on't be able to balance o n the new one. We're piling the odds agains t ours elves. We can love ourselves and see ourselves and unde rstand ourselves w ith all t hese rocks st acked on top of us. The more time we spend i n t he past, the more we att ach ourselves to th e experiences t hat happened there. How m any tim es a day do you thin k back to somet hing you did , or some wa y y ou acted, or some situat ion that flattened you, and r eplay it? In th ose moments , you are back there, in the past . You don't see the birds flying ar ound you. You don't feel the sunlight . You are r einforcing t he experience you ar e tr yin g to get aw ay from (or get b ack to, as t he case may b e). The more energy y ou inve st in th inking about the past , analyzing it, w ondering about it, the more you make it imposs ible for mir acles to happen right now. The roc ks you carr y with y ou aren't going to chang e simply because you're carr yin g them. They only w eigh you down a nd make you weaker in this moment.
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Those ar en't your rocks any more. You're new, right this inst ant. Like Trixie, you don't h ave to w orr y ab out w hat y ou did five year s ago, five day s ago, or five minutes ago. Let w hat ever's coming in t he next five year s ta ke car e of its elf. In this moment, you ar e not y our past . You ar e not your lab els. You're a spirit of Light, w ith n o limitations, no restrictions, and no flaw s.
Arm's-Length Closeness On a large r s cale, car ry ing the past with us separat es us from ourselves and each other. We allow t hings w e didn't live up to i n th e past t o haunt us. And by allowing them to sta y w ith us, they ex ert contr ol over the mome nts we live now. Those skeleton s can hur t only t hat person w e see in the mirr or. But until w e know we're more than t hat pers on, the skeletons s tand in the w ay of tr uth in our relationships, real me eting among spirits . When w e feel th e need to hide something in our pas t, w e never feel "real" wit h other people . Whether w e hide that something because
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we're afraid they w ill think badly of u s or b ecause we're try ing to prot ect them from a pa inful experience we've endured , it only ser ves to separa te us. "What will he think of me?" is a thoug ht that's gone thr ough every one's head at one time o r another. "What will they sa y if I do that? " we wonder. We live in a sh ell of prot ectiveness, try ing to hide the "real us" from other people. And this prot ective shell req uires an incr edible amount of control on o ur par t; w e find ourselve s w atching w hat we say, do, and t hink. The more we contr ol ours elves, the more w e find tha t w e need to contr ol. And one day w e wa ke up and realize tha t w e're not contr olling anything; the shel l is contr olling us. We've buil t it so w ell and so tightly that even our outside rainbow colors a re cove red up. All because we're carr ying stones that are too he avy for us. Stones w e don't hav e to carr y. And even th ough w e truly love those around us, we fe ar showing them w hat we think w e reall y are. Our image o f ourselve s is tr uly st uck in th e rainb ow, forgett ing the lig ht at its essence. And w e push oursel ves and pr od ourselve s a nd tr y to furt her control ourselve s
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into bei ng what we want t o be. We set a future g oal that w e try , time and t ime again, to live up to. And we beat our selves up when w e fail. And w e forget one vital, free ing thing: The re is no past and no futur e. There is only now . In this m oment, the best w e can do is enough. And w e move on to the next st one.
Forgiving Our Selves So we understand th at t he past keeps us from living f reely in t he moment, allowing ourselves to ope n up to the lig ht b eyond the rainb ow. How do we get fr om here to th ere? Is there some magical pr ocess that can w ipe aw ay the years of guilt and self- persec ution that skew our pers pectives in this moment? Yes there is. It's called forgiveness. In thinking o f our past experiences as s tepping stones that hav e helped us get w here w e ar e now , we can accept th at t hey happened for a reason. We can also beli eve that we did the best w e could with t he
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situa tion pr esented us. I've yet t o meet a person w ho, at a cr isis point in her life, said "I want to ma ke the decision th at will hurt the most people." Often t he decisions w e are forced to make see m t o hav e no solut ion. On the sur face, invest ed in our ra inb ows, we make the best choice s w e can with t he reso urces available to us. When I was t ry ing to p ut my daughter's b unny, Hopscotch, back into t he cage, he kicked his feet w ildly (not w ant ing to be corr aled) and scr at ched my wrist . Did he feel remor seful? Did he feel the need to apologize for cutt ing me? No- -he kicked har der. My injur y wasn't intentional, nor did it change the w ay I feel about th e bunny . Life happens. Some tim es w e get bum ped and b ruis ed and it's n obody's fault, it j ust h appens. Every person on the face of the ear th has unw ittingly hur t someone without t he intentio n of doing so. Forgive your self. You made all the choi ces you made f or a r eason, to br ing you to this moment. This is t he more impo rt ant moment of your life . When y ou can b e free of the past and unfearful of the futur e, you can live th is moment honestly .
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And you r light will beam thr ough.
A Path of Forgiveness As w e escape the limited perspectiv es of our ra inb ows a nd lear n to unders tand the light, there's no nee d to go any where. Finding a litt le corner of sile nce alwa ys helps, but there's no ne ed to do any thing special or w ander off to th e nearest mounta intop to feel contemplativ e. One day, w hen I found my self car ry ing so many st ones I couldn't move, I happened upon a kind of med itation that helped me get free of the past . It w as January and the sky w as spitt ing big, wet snow flakes. I sat in my car in the parking lo t of a hotel i n Indianapoli s an d w rote in a sma ll, dog-ear ed notebook. This w as t he first weekend in ten y ears I'd been a "s ingle" person; the first weekend since I'd become a mother that I was not w ith my child ren. I was w ra cked with gui lt. I wa s frozen w ith an ov erpow ering feeling of doom.
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And, in th e midst of my w rit ing, as it often h appens, a little shaft of light c ame to me in t he form of an idea: "I need to forgiv e mys elf before I self-destr uct." "Okay," I said int ernally , "I forgive my self."
No, said the voice. Really. Look inside yourself, look at what's hurting you, and forgive youself. What else did I have to do? I wa sn't supposed to pick u p the kids for six m ore hours. I did n't feel like shopping or calling any of my friends who w oud comiserate w ith me. I put the car and gear and beg an driv ing, following r oads I'd know n all m y l ife. It w as early on a Sund ay morning so there wa s no tr affic. I drove without t hinking, and found mys elf in front of the apar tm ent w here I had grow n up. I was am azed at how sma ll it looked. "All right," I said al oud. "I'm game." And I took a deep breath. "I forgive my self for all t hose times I pouted and car ried on. I know I didn't give my s tepdad a chan ce and I now forgive myself f or that . I know I pract ically drove my mom cr azy with t he reli gious st uff I
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used to preach at her, and I 'm sorr y t hat it w as s uch a painf ul time for us both. But I w as doing the best that I could then. I forgive mys elf." And then I drove to my high school. And by my best friend's house. And to the place I lost m y vir ginity (really, I did). And to my first apart ment. I went to every place that held a painfu l memory still active, for me, in t he present. And in each place, I said aloud tha t I knew at that time I'd bee n doing my b est and I forgave my self for not living up to my own expectat ions. Especially I f orgave my self for all t he times I hur t m yself, and put m yself down, and lost h ope. And in each place, I felt as t hough I w as leav ing little st ones, putt ing them ba ck in the past, w here they b elong. At th e same time, I felt I was gatherin g mys elf to my self, pulling pieces of me ba ck that I had lost in th ose places, allowin g mys elf to heal, to be w hole again. In the y ears since th at experience, I've never picked th ose stones up again. By now , of course, I hav e others, an d I periodically hav e to go thr ough the process of putt ing them b ack. The fact tha t I act ually w ent to th ose places and sa id the forgiving w ords aloud had some signif icance
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for me, as t hough I knew that this was t he one and only t ime I'd need to do that in order t o forgive mys elf for t hose events . But wh ether y ou tr avel to the plac es on this eart h w here the hurt ing occured or y ou simply allow y our s pirit t o heal you by bubb ling up the forgiveness and lo ve that flows from you natur ally, clear ing your self of the past s ets y ou free for t he present. When you are accepting and loving and w hole your self, you can be accepting and loving and co nnected wit h others . And you'll be living the l ight, not the rainb ow.
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Chapter Six Weathering Storms
My daughter w as furious with me . She stormed u p the sta irs, st omping her feet as l oudly as s he could, her footst eps proclaiming he r frust ration even w hen her mouth could not. The door slam med shut, punctuat ing our disconnected ness. I stood at t he foot of the st eps, looking up, gra ppling w ith my image of myself. Had I been w rong? Had I tur ned into t he kind of par ent I didn't w ant to be? Did saying "no" in the w rong moment tur n my affectionate, fun daughter int o a ra ging pre-adolescent mess ? I comforted myself with t he thought that in spirit, I wa s okay. Outside, I wa s shaking. Confrontations a t our house are f ortunat ely r are. But w hen those storms er upt, sometim es they include hail and w ind str ong enough to
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knock you over. So metimes life with an a lmost teenage daughter is ana logous to April in I ndiana; you might hav e suns hine and smiles on e minute and hail storm s and tears the next. My self wasn't unders tanding he r. Her self wasn 't underst anding me. The people we were could n't connect at t hat moment, even though in spirit , we w ere fine. In spirit , we weren't hur ting. We lo ved each other beyon d wor ds. We underst ood without s peaking. But, as I watched he r small frame sta mping u p those stair s as though her a nger was b urst ing throug h t he soles of her feet, I knew that we were so wra pped up in o ur ow n emotio nal r ainbow s t hat we couldn't s ee each other. Once we reach the und erstanding that we are much more than the rainbow s w e represe nt, how can w e exist in a storm -r idden world? How ca n w e hold on to that peace when w e are faced, almost every minute, with t hings to react to, e motions to de al w ith, s ituations to man age? Is it possib le to be in touch w ith t he Light and st ill live in th e rainbow?
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It's n ot easy . But it's possible . No matt er how far you've co me in your que st for spiritual unders tanding, you w ill undoubtedly be f aced with moment s of tr ial. Wh atever you f ear- -y our boss, your mother, the I RS-- will, sooner or later, be br ought forw ar d for y ou to co nfront. I n an y relationships, we'll experience misunders tandings, disagree ments , or t imes of disco nnection. As long as w e inhab it human b odies, ther e will be a chance that w e'll be misunderstood. And feeling misun derstood is one of the crumm iest feelings t here is.
Understanding Misunderstanding When we are living i n the ra inbow , dealing wit h the ins and outs of our daily lives, w hy is it so terr ible t o feel misunderst ood? Lack of agreement . Lack of compass ion. When s omeone disagree s w ith us, w e feel alone.
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When someone has no compass ion for us, w e feel unlovab le. In spirit , we know we are ne ver alone . In spir it, we kno w we are love. So w hy does t he fear of being misunderst ood hav e such power over us? From the time we are very small, we assemble these rainb ow cloaks t o identify our s elves and give us some means of explaining our selves to the w orld. When you mee t someone new and tell them w hat you do for a living , how many children you hav e, where you w ent to school, etc., they understandyou. They look i nside th emselves and find similar happenings in their ow n lives. T hey kno w where you' re coming from. You feel unders tood. When you have a fi ght w ith y our lover, you tel l your b est frie nd. Your b est frie nd has had similar tr oubles in the past and can empathize with y ou. You're unde rstood. When you're co nsidering changing jobs and don't know what to do, you ta lk to a friend w ho has b een th rough a r ecent job change. His insight helps y ou deal w ith y our sit uation, and you f eel bett er, know ing someone unders tands what you're de aling wit h.
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In understanding, we fe el joined wit h someone else. We're prov ing to our selves that , even in the midst of our prob lems, we're not alone. The pers on in th e mirr or needs t o know there's someone else standing right there beside her. What h appens w hen we're misund erstood ? You forget to call your girlfriend when y ou said you w ould. You've done it t hr ee times in t he last m onth. She's pissed. She's convinced that y ou're tr yin g to tell her something. Yo u're convinced you just forgot. She doesn't understand you. Wha t do you think? I'm a bad person.
I'm irresponsible. I don't deserve to be in a relationship with someone as good as her. You quit your j ob as a st ock br oker to w ork on y our uncle's farm ra ising cows . All your s tock br oker friends ar e making Big Money an d continually put y ou down for y our decision. You tr y t o explain your reasons fo r leaving and t hey all b egin mooi ng and talkin g w ith a southern t wang. They don't understand y ou. How ar e you feeling? Boy, I must really
look stupid to these guys. I guess it is pretty ridiculous, leaving Wall Street to raise
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cows. Maybe that was a bad move for me. I sure would've made a lot more money if I'd stayed where I was. Maybe I could get my old job back... We'll do almo st any thing to make o urselve s fit, wh ether that means t otally ch anging the wa y w e feel inside or ly ing to ours elves or going against our b etter j udgement. In the middle of a semest er, I decided to leav e college. There was a book bur ning in my s oul that I had to le t out. Wh en I st arted to wor k on my ass ignments, the b ook would come o ut. I couldn't get a nythin g done except th e book that wanted its w ay w ith me. I told my a dvisor a nd tr ied to explain the de pth of my conv iction. She lectur ed me for t hir ty minut es, explaining the irr evocable damage I was doing to my futur e by not completing m y degree. She didn't underst and me. What did I say to my self? Jeeze, they
must think I'm a fanatic or something. I guess I could try to finish the work...if I really put my mind to it and forced myself. I couldn't stand to be mis unders tood. I needed the people I car ed about to meet me wh ere I was, to underst and my experiences, to know who I was in the center of my b eing.
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And you know w hat? They alr eady do. Whether y our girlfrie nd or y our m other or y our b oss appe ar t o agree or disagree wit h you on t he surface, in t heir essence, in t he Light, they unders tand you. They are you. We'r e all connected , deeper t han words, beyond co lors, beyond labels. Their s elves-- those pe ople in the mirr or -- might appe ar to disaggree. Those litt le legs st omping awa y from me on th e stair s didn't show that t hey underst ood me. But the spir it, the light ins ide those legs
knew. The professors who shake the ir heads a nd lament th e wast efulness of my academic career th ink I've done a really st upid thing. But here 's a valuable insig ht t hat proves itself tr ue time and time again: People only agree with y ou to the point t hat y ou mirror them. That's w orth say ing again:
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People think you're right only if you reaff irm the choices they'v e made in their lives. If, in a letter t o my advisor, I say -- even j okingly- -"I don't t hink God car es much a bout college degrees", tha t college advisor isn't going to like the co mment. ( Grant ed, that wasn't a r eal sma rt thing fo r me to do .) Of course she's not goi ng to be comf ortab le with a s tat ement like that . She's in vest ed her w hole life in the impor ta nce of college degrees. A comment lik e that t hreatens her . If all of a sudden you quit your high- pay ing manageme nt j ob and star t w orking at a nur sery s chool, your cohorts b ack at the of fice are going to talk ab out how cra zy you ar e. Of course they w ill. They need to stay emotionally r ooted in th eir place. Seeing y ou take the f lying leap of faith is t hreatening for t hem. It makes th em question their ow n choices. It s hows them tha t s omeone they know h as given he rs elf perm ission to do what she wants. What a terr ible option to have. Most people don't r ealize they hav e it.
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Similarly, w hen we star t gett ing over our r ainbow s, people are going to look at us funny . The guys w e used to hang o ut w ith w ill sta re at us if we do n't j oin in all the ethnic pu t -downs we used to part icipate in. As w e star t adopting a mor e gentle, accepting att itude about differences in people, the people who were used to us being totally invested i n our r ainbow s w ill star t feeling unc omfortab le. "Wha t a re you now, some humanitarian or something? " "Who do you think y ou are, Ghandi? " You're misunde rs tood. What ar e you thinking ? They will only
agree with me to the point that I mirror them. Their spirits know that my spirit is finding it way out through all my labels, and it's scaring them. The put- down s of your fr iends no longer hur t y ou or cha nge you. You don't find yourself seco nd- guessin g your decisions or longing to change back to t he wa y you "use d" to be. Yo u simply understan d that your new per spective touches some chord de ep inside them t hat makes them uncomforta ble. Some litt le ray of light flic kers inside them, and they don't k now w hat t hat flic ker is.
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Simply because you're in touch wit h t he Light, their ow n rainbows star t t o fade.
Healing and Helping Just as other pe ople agree with us w hen we mir ror their choice s, we agree with others w hen the ir lives echo our ow n. When we tr y t o solve peoples' prob lems, w e find it difficult t o br eak out of our own experiences. Suppose you hav e a friend you'v e been close to since college. You plann ed your w eddings together. You had your childr en at th e sam e time. You go to the sam e church. You work out at t he same club. One day , she pauses long er t han usual in t he dressing room. H er eyes ar e red. "I'm t hinking about leaving Paul, " she say s. What do you do? All the memories of your connected ness come zooming into y our br ain. You realize that y our familie s w on't get t ogether for cookouts any more. You remember t he time anoth er friend left her hus ba nd and made some ter rib le choices. You fear for your friend. You fear for
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your self. If she's making this choice, the next tim e you and your husband hav e a rough stor m to face, will you begin thinking of that a ltern ative? Will you meet her w here she is, or w ill you unco nsciously encoura ge her t o affirm your own choices? The best opinion is no opinio n. In sit uations where peopl e are dealing w ith h urt ing life-a ltering dec isions an d ask for guidance, the words they nee d most to hear come from that pers on beyond the mirr or. The only w ords that will ring tr ue, the onl y w ords that will heal anyt hing, are the one s they can whisper t o t hemselves w hen they ge t in touch w ith thei r spirits. It's har d to see a friend in pain. When w e've been thr ough simila r circumstances, the te mptat ion t o jump in an d make things b ett er is almost overw helming. We think we kno w how to handle the situatio n. We know what they should d o. We know t hey'd be happier if o nly they 'd look at life the wa y w e do. But, as r ainbow -invested pe ople, we forget that pain is only a sur face ailment. Our spir its feel no pain. O ur s pirit s ar e only love. Even
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though your friend loo ks misera ble, cries, and ago nizes over h er situation, the pai n isn't hurt ing the real he r. If any thin g, the pain might b e helping. Because at t imes of great pain , we look in the mir ro mor e than others . We w onder w hat 's going on inside u s. We feel the shi fting in ou r lab eling sys tem and st ruggle to put it all t ogether again so it fits comfortably. That 's a great opport unity for lett ing go. A great opportunity for faith. In those moments of deepest, dar kest despair , we hav e a sur e shot of feeling those arms wra pped ar ound us.
Being the Source When we live in the rainb ow, being mi sunders tood is a dangerous th ing. Being misunde rstood means being alone, isol ated, unloved. Being misunders tood may even mean b eing wrong, which makes a question the very "rightn ess " of our being.
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Once we get in touc h w ith our spirit s, we kno w we can never be misunders tood. Although our conscious minds t ell us otherw ise, the spir it needs no explana tions, no analy sis, no und erst anding. The spir it has everyt hing it n eeds. Only our b odies, our m inds, feel misunders tood. Only our mouths hav e trouble co mmunicating. Only our hands ha ve trouble reaching out. The spir it is love. When we tr uly underst and the difference betw een self and spir it, we can be our ow n source of understanding. The fun ny looks w e get from our par ents w hen w e tell them w e're going to skip the f amily Thanksgiving dinner an d voluntee r at the local homele ss s helter slide of f us, unstuck. We know that they 're questioning o ur j udgement, our love for t hem, and our commitment t o the famil y. W e also know that our choice--do ing what's r ight for us -- show s them that they can do the same for thems elves. So, to some degree, we might b e frightening them w ith our fr eedom. On some level, they might feel compelled to do the sa me thing.
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But w e no longer tur n t hose looks inside ou r selves and fee l misunde rs tood. We kno w that in spirit , we ar e connected. We know we hav e underst anding. We underst and our selves. We don't nee d to convert other people to our w ay of thinking; we love them and appr eciate them for th e choices they' ve made and live free in t he light of our ow n. And we can turn that unders tanding o ut and apply it globally, to all people we encounter, all groups w e face, all factions of society tha t stan d against us. The light is in there. We unders tand each other. The faces t hat look back in our mirr ors in t he morning are covered with delusiv e lab els that b lock the light. But w e're shining, inside . And, sooner or later , those ra ys will come out.
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Chapter Seven Some Uncoloring Exercises
We are beginning to understan d that w e are more- -literally- than the eye c an see. We're more than our minds can grasp. W e're mo re tha n our limit ed perspectives of our selves hav e allowed us to understand. We're more than t he color of our skin, eyes, or hair . More th an our sexual pr eference or religious affiliat ion. More th an the st ring of experiences t hat have sha ped our outw ard lives. This sense of l ooking beyond appeara nces may br ing up new feelings as you sta rt to explore pers pectives previousl y unav ailable to you. You may que stion w hether you're taking this s pirituality thing a bit far. Yo ur frie nds may w onder w hat's up with you. The best t hing abou t gett ing in touch with y our s pirit is th at it doesn't change you; i t m akes y ou more you, the you in y our ess ence. You
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feel more centered. You stop thr ash ing as much th rough your everyday life. A sense of peace and general every thing's -okay- ness st arts t o heal the frant ic hurt ing places ins ide you. When y ou begin explorin g spirituality and allo w yourself to open up to th e possibilities your ow n spir it ca n offer y ou, the real chan ge happens dee p inside. Once we've come to t he unders tanding of the dif ference betw een self and spir it in our selves, w e can underst and t he difference in other people. The individ ual r ainbow s w orn b y others ar e less impo rt ant now . You begin t o enjoy the outer differences y ou see in other people because they no longer threat en you. You do n't feel compelled to change them, or ch allenge them, because they ar e different from you. You know they a ren't different from you. I n th e essence, where it mat ters , we're all the same.
Erasing Ourselves In this first exercis e, you sett le in to a feeling of ra inbow - lessness. Sure, you've been reading about it for several chapt ers, but w hat does t he light r eally feel like? Let's take a shot a t gett ing ther e together.
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Consider where you are right n ow. W hat's the positio n of your body? Are you sit ting or ly ing down? In a chair , in bed, or on t he floor? Run th rough a menta l checklist, from t he top of your head to the soles of your feet, finding out how you ar e feeling. You may find y ou hav e a headache, tight ness in your neck muscles, so reness in y our ar ms. The forehead, eyes, mouth, an d ja w usually st ore up quite a b it of tension as w e strain t o unders tand what w e're reading . Perha ps you're sitting i n an uncomfortable position. You don't need to ma ke your self more comforta ble. You don't need to r elax or force your tightened muscles to loosen. Just b e aw are of any t ension or discomfort your b ody is feeling a t this moment. Know that each feeling and thou ght tha t pushes its w ay thr ough our br ains has its ow n color. Envision yourself , sitting there as y ou are now, str iped in br eathtaking rainb ow colo rs that seem to shine f rom an internal light source. Imagine the colors getting brighter and brighter.
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And brighter and b righter, until you almo st can't look directly a t them anymor e. And just as t hey get to the moment of the most painful brightness, the co lors ar e overta ken b y a b eautifu l w hite Light. Now, as y ou sit th ere, the li ght of your s pirit is blazing ou t beyond the co lors of your r ainb ow cloak. The ra inb ow fades into the light from w hich it came. Your form , without it s headache, its m uscle tensio n, its gras ping brain, sits there right n ow, hold ing this b ook, bathed in r adiance . It's th e real you. The light is s tr onger t han t he rainbow , but as an item of true strength, it does not hav e to exert it self over th e delusions of our m inds. When w e look, we find it. Wh en we allow ourselves to ope n to it, it shines automatically. W hen w e let the r ainbow cloaks fall f rom our shoulders it s hines out unrestr icted. Our bodies ar e our only r estrictions. But th ings w e claim define us also limit us.
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As light, you ar e more than y our body. As spir it, you reach out beyond the length of your arms, out past the scope of your vis ion. The love that shines from y ou touches people near and far. Like a st ring of dominoes, the love that st arts w ith us t ouches someone close and they , feeling loved, touch someone e lse, and th at person, bene fitting from the same love, touches other people. The light lives on, pass ing thr ough th e rainb ows of countless people, eventually cir cling back ar ound, just w hen w e need it, and touching us.
Origins of Light Does the light begin w ith us ? When w e get in t ouch wit h our spirits and allow the light to shine thr ough us unhinde red by our rainb ows, can w e take credit for the love that s hines t hr ough? Depending on your religious beliefs (which are one expression of your r ainbow ), you may have different v iews from mine on this matt er.
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Some philosophers will tell you that God is spirit that exists in each pers on, that t he thought of a God separat e from humans is a myt hological adaptat ion of Western t hought. Some theologians w ill tell you that God is a my stical somet hing beyond de finition, making him or h erself known t o man in t hree different underst andab le personas : Father, Son, and Holy Ghost . Some learned scholars will pooh-pooh th e idea of a pers onal God, say ing that we as a socie ty ar e looking for an eterna l fath er figure to handle our pr oblems for us. I underst and th e light, our light, to be part s of individual Godlight. We do not def ine God any more t han we can define our selves. But I feel God as the greater something I cann ot compr ehend, all loving, all know ing, all comf ort ing, the sum of all th e tenderness a nd gentleness in a s eeking univers e. The source of the light within me is th e great er light, the Original Lig ht. This Light flows through all living t hings, not just me, not j ust y ou. It's the natur al proce s s of our s pirits to be cond uits for tha t love that cy cles th rough our w orld on both surface and spiritual
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levels. Wh en we drop our cloaks, the love cycles th rough us unr estr icted and w e have beco me aligned with our purpose o n t his eart h. But that's just my underst anding. And intelle ctual underst anding is a fu nction of the br ain. Which is part of the rainb ow, not the l ight. So w here does t he light come from? Am I talking in circles? Not intentionally. Whether y ou believe in a Bigger Something that is th e sou rce of all light or you believe tha t w e are each par ts of that Bigger Somethin g and it does not exist apar t from us, u nderst anding the cyclical natur e of the light is the impo rt ant part . It's in our nat ure to gi ve love. We are love, in our essence, and w e feel best on th e surface when w e allow the love to find its w ay t hr ough us. The more labels w e put on our selves, the thicker our cloaks, the har der it is to give love. Underneath , the less love we're able to give, the wor se w e feel ab out ourselves. A nd, a s t he amount of love we give aw ay dwindles, w e find ourselves r eceiving less an d less love from t hose around us. It's a cy cle.
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We allow love to fl ow thr ough us becau se that is our nat ure and we feel best when we're being true to it. B irds sing. G ras s grow s . Stars shine. We love.
Spreading It Around The next tim e you're in a room w ith oth er people, you can t ry letting some o f your light out a nd w atch w hat happens. Witn essing the automa tic pass ing-on pr ocess affirms t he concept w e've been exploring. For example, suppose that you're in a cr owded restaur ant. Colors, odors , sounds sw irl ar ound you. Your senses hav e an incr edible var iety of resources to choose from. In a m oment w hen you'r e not involved in co nver sat ion, allow y ourself to look around the room. Firs t notice as m any differences as you can among th e people you find there. Skin ton es. Eye color . Hair . Expr essions . Gest ures. Some people are reserv ed and quiet. Others are animat ed. A range of emotions w ill meet your eye. Happy , silly, s ad. Angry, t ense, affectionat e. You'll see all kinds of relat ionships. Friends, lovers, relativ es.
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See how individual peo ple make themselves. T hat one wear s bright pink, while another w ear s b row n. This one smok es flamboyan tly, while another holds her cigarett e at t ab le level. This o ne laughs loudly, while ano ther m erely s miles. Feel your light gleaming s tr ongly in t he middle of your chest . As you scan the r oom, allow your self to sense the lig ht in th e middle each of the people you see. Their gestur es, their dr ess, their exter iors a re only expressions of their inner light. I t's in th ere, even if they don't know it . Suppose you hav e a sur ly w ait ress . She's feeling bad ab out herself, ab out her place in her life, ab out her j ob in general. She's t ired of being ordered around, undervalued, and underpaid. She goes to each table, spreading her negative ene rgy ar ound. After you finish eating, you leave an extra ordinarily lar ge tip for her. She returns to your empty table to retr ieve the tip, see s th e amount , and is sur pris ed. Something inside her loosens. "M aybe I do a bett er j ob t han I thought," she thinks, and her self-concept impr oves j ust a b it. "Mayb e this isn't s uch a bad j ob after a ll," she say s t o herself. "There ar e still s ome nice people out t here." And she goes t o the next t ab le feeling a litt le better ab out hers elf and her
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position. And e ach of the peo ple at t he tab les she visit s b enefit from her impr oving feelings ab out hers elf. And those peo ple go out int o the w orld spreading their feelings of goodness around. The giving, not t he money, is the point. When you become a conduit fo r t hat love to come thr ough you, it goes w here it need to. It circulat es and cycles t hr ough people, going from one to another unnoticed. By embr acing our light, we can r elease our ra inbow s.
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Chapter E ight The Illusion of Becoming
My son learn ed to w alk suddenly. Oh, the process ha d several very definite st ages. There w as t he Ican- pull-my self-up st age, in w hich he'd clutch at t he arm of the couch and, with a w hite-knuc kled death grasp, pull his litt le round bod y into an upr ight position. Then, pleased w ith his n ew per spective, he 'd squeal and r aise one ar m over his h ead, want ing every one to see. Then-- plop-- down on his b ottom he'd g o. After that , there w as the Look-I-can-move-w hile-I'm-hold ing-on stage. He could hang on to th e couch, more secu re now on h is t otter ing legs, and move a st ep to the right or a st ep to the left. One day he got t ired of the couch. He wa s, I assume, fed up with watching all the other huma ns in th e house walk around unaide d. He tur ned, set his sights on th e middle of the living room, and let go.
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He was w alking. One minut e before, he hadn't know n how to w alk. We fool ourselves into t hinking that becoming is a gradual process. Someone might a rgue that my son w as pr eparing to w alk- bec oming a w alker-- since the f irst day he tr ied to craw l. Or from t he day he was born. But no mat ter h ow we look at it, the change re ally ha ppens suddenly. One minute you weren't y et born. (Yo ur mother probab ly remembe rs that moment very well.) The next , there you w ere, pink and squalling and probably mad as hell. One minute, you hadn't graduat ed from high school. Yo u st ood in line, with t hat h ot robe and the hat t hat w ouldn't stay on right, and waited ne rv ously for y our name to be calle d. Wh en you he ar d your nam e, you cr ossed the st age and accepted your diploma. Just a few seconds b efore, you hadn't gr aduated. No w, you had. Every change can be tr aced to a s ingle moment. Wh en you plant a seed, it r emains a see d until that firs t green, tender shoot part s t he
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ear th an d shows itself. Now it's a plant . You may not have bee n ar ound in th e moment it ha ppened, but it did happen in one precise moment. There was a single micr osecond in wh ich the gree n grow th firs t poked itself thr ough the moist dark eart h. Understanding, lik e all other change, happens in one single instant. You may t ell yourself that it is a process; that alleviates y ou from feeling press ure to look for t he chan ge too soon. But unde rs tanding, loving, reali zing w hat we truly ar e takes no time at all. In the time it ta kes to read one word, take one br eath, or hug one person, you cou ld be illuminat ed by your own light.
The Trap When we are stuck in our ra inbow -constr uction process, we are eternally caught in th e trap of be coming. What do you w ant to be when you grow up? What will you do wh en you get out of school? What is th e next step in y our climb up t he corpora te ladd er? And then w hat?
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It's a w idely accepted belief that h umans a re continually grow ing and learnin g anim als. In fact , I made the rat her b old st atement in a paper I w rote upo n my return to college that a person not grow ing would die. I meant it figura tiv ely, of cours e, but I meant it. A person n ot exploring, not learning, not seeking, would have no purpose, I thought. A person not becoming somethin g, bett ering herself, achieving a new unders tanding, st riv ing for a deeper spir itual b ase, would e venta lly turn pale l ike a plant w ithout sunlig ht and w ither aw ay. Boy, w as I wr ong. I didn't kno w then that is is the sel f in the ra inbow that is neve r content. Lif e becomes a consta nt process of self- r efinement, selffulfillment, self -sat isfaction. Wh en you're full y in vested in y our ra inb ow, you feel this continual push of a hand in the small of your b ack, causing you to loo k for t he next s tep. You jus t can 't s top. In college, you look forw ard to t he day you gra duate. Then ther e's a j ob. A new car . Then a relat ionship. The f irs t house. Kids. Dogs. A bett er car . A bigger house.
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On a different level, you may sear ch for meanin g. You read. You att end w orkshops. You go to church. You try var ious a venues of enlightenment. You're becoming a m ore spiritual person, you think. Hmmmm. That's what I thought. My own search fo r enlightenment w as driv ing me crazy . There was something, somewhere, I just wasn't unders tan ding. There was some philoso phy , I thought, that someone pra cticed some where in the world tha t w ould sum up my h ope for humanit y, my love of God, my frust rat ion w ith t he game of Us- and-The m play ed by seemingly everyone ( including the tr aditional Chris tia n chur ches I'd att ended). I was consum ed by my quest. I read a libr ary full of spir itual b ooks. I went to w orkshops. I saw a psy chic, tw ice (don't as k). I sav ed my money and tr aveled half-w ay ar ound the world to visit the mou ntaint op man sion of a popu lar New Age leader. "What in the w orld ar e you doing?" my m other as ked.
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"I'm b ecoming more aw ar e of my spir itualit y," I told her. S he mumb led something ab out hav ing me committ ed and never mentioned it again. I was becoming. I felt, somehow , that I wa s almost "t her e." The hand in my b ack was pushing harder than ever. I didn't r ealize that it w as my own hand.
The Effort of Becoming There are se vera l problems w ith b ecoming. The first a nd most obvious is that by setting your sights on the f uture (and w hat y ou'll be when you g et t here), you totally lose c ontact w ith w hat you are now. Right th is minut e. And this min ute. And, now , this minut e. The second problem is tha t y ou have to exe rt a lot of effort in order t o become. Wh at will you do w hen you get out of co llege? "Oh, I plan to b ecome a teacher." That means y ou'll mold your s elf and sh ape your s elf and do what ever you hav e to do to turn y ourself into a memb er of a pr ofession
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called teaching. You 'll do all the paperw ork and t he legwor k and the emotional w ork you need to so that y ou can live up to socie ty 's pr eset guidelines. And that's okay. It's a nat ural part of every one's ra inbow a ssembly pr ocess. But w hat if someone told you that y ou don't hav e to become anything? You alread y are. But life would be so much easier t o live if we knew that in our spirits w e were already eve ry thing we w anted to be . We wouldn't push ours elves so har d. We would n't hurt ours elves by continuing to set our goals on th ings jus t outs ide our r each. We wouldn't put off our ow n happine ss until w e could just get t o that a ll- elusive moment w hen we're rich enough, or s ecure enough, or fulfilled enough. We're everything enough, right now . And we'll f ind that unders tanding is w aiting f or us, any time w e choose to see it.
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Being My husban d and I drove t o our favorite book store, which w as 50 miles aw ay, w ith t he full inte ntion of br inging home wa y too many books. In our quest for spir itual unders tanding, we'd accumulated q uite a collection of Ne w Age, Chris tian , Zen, Buddhist , and Taoist texts . We wa ndered the philosophy an d religion aisles, pull ing out books, reading sample page s, loading up. About t hir ty minut es into th e experience, I started feeling out of sorts. I looked over at him a nd he knew I wa s b ugged. "What?" I grumb led. "Oh, I don't know." We went b ack to looking. Several m ore minute s pass ed. My irr itation w as getting intense . It w as unlike me, the me I knew in my ra inb ow cloak, to get a gitat ed for no apparent r eason. He looked up. "Do you w ant t o go?" I didn't w ant to b e difficult.
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"I don't know," I said. By th e time we got to the car, I was t ruly a ngry. I had no explanation of my feelings; my husban d w as a t a loss in tr ying to fig ure out w hat had ha ppened to me in th e stor e. He asked me a few ra ndom questions an d tr ied to chan ge the subj ect by suggesting I pick out a place for dinner. I shr ugged and said noth ing. He looked at me, bew ildered. "Do you hav e any idea wh at's bother ing y ou?" I glar ed at t he ba g of books betw een my feet. "I don't know ," I said. And then I did k now . I was tired of becoming. I was s ick of sear ching, of looking, of longing to be w hole. The idea t hat I would have to r ead thr ough y et
another pile of spir itual b ooks w as m aking me furious. I was beginning to suspect t hat even after I poured over each of those books, I would s till not have the answ ers I so ught.
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And in tha t moment I had a sense o f my spir it I'd never felt before. The light reached up and shot out t hrough all the ra inb ow la bels and t he becoming tra ps I'd place d upon mys elf. I wasn't becoming anyth ing. I already w as. In that moment, I was light. My s pirit w asn't reaching . My spirit wasn't looking for any thing. My rainb ow, my mind, had convin ced me that in order to keep grow ing, I had t o keep searching. The sear ch is an illusion. It's all right t here, insid e you, ri ght now .
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Chapter Nine Let ting Other Rainbows Shine
Several year s ago I had a dog nam ed Lar ry . Larr y was a sh eepdog, big and hair y, w ith one unse en b lue eye and one br own. I'd alwa ys wanted a shee pdog puppy, and my m ind was filled wit h expecta tions of a hug e anima ted teddy bear , my b est buddy, a lovab le companion. Larry wasn't playing alo ng. He'd been the biggest male in t he litter , and from th e firs t t ime I'd seen him , he'd been forging his r ole as the b ully of the f amily , pushing the othe r puppies ar ound, rolling them aw ay from their mother, jumping o n t hem and biting their ears. "How cute," I said. Nine months lat er it wasn't so cute.
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Larr y had beco me a bully in our family. H e was the dogequiva lent of a cocky eighteen year old b oy, full of himself, s ure of his str ength. When my daug hter -- then five--w ould tr y to play wit h him, he'd tr eat her lik e he had his litt erm ates. I was gett ing worr ied w ith his aggressiveness. So I enr olled him in dog tr aining s chool. We showed up the f irs t night to an in credibl e mix of dog species. Each dog stood o r shook or paced near its owner. Yorkie s an d Rotw eilers and everyt hing in-b etw een. The owners a ll stood regarding e ach other nervously. A huge rub ber mat lined the outer edges of the room, encompas sing us all in a big b lack oval. The obj ect, we were told, was to begin w alking w ith our dog s ar ound the mat. The i nstr uctor b lew his whist le and w e all began wa lking counter -clockwis e, dragging our canines along wit h us, like we w ere part icipating in some o ddly conceived cake walk. Larr y w asn't ab out to coopera te. For that matt er, most of the dogs w eren't either.
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The instr uctor t ooted his w hist le and shook his head. "No , no no, people," he said. "You ar e supposed to contr ol your dogs. Your dogs don't contr ol you." And he procee ded to show us w hat he meant. He wa lked up to a w oman t imidly holding the le ash of a tiny Westie. He held the leash tight ly in h is ha nd, said "Heel!" and y anked on the leash so har d tha t t he puppy's fee t ca me clean off the ground. T he own er st ood by , blushing. He wa lked tha t dog once ar ound the ring, very fast. The rest of us stood silent w hile our dogs figett ed nerv ously, sniff ing at each ot her. When he reached the point w here he'd begun, he sw ung the leash car elessly ar ound to his other s ide, dra gging th e animal like it w ere a toy duck on w heels. After frightening the anima l into s ubm ission, he f lashed a smug smile at t he rest of us. "That's how you do it," he said. I looked down at Larr y. He wa s hopeless, I knew. I was hopeless, I knew. I couldn't force m y dog to comply t o such a r idiculous pra ctice, no matt er how ill-behaved he was. I couldn't fo rce him to w alk around some stupid ring and l earn appr opriat e people behav ior and jer k his
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leash s o hard his eyes w ould roll . Why was I involve d in this relationship wit h this dog? Was it to contr ol him, to tur n him int o the Perfect Dog I saw in my head? What about hi s own nat ure? Why wasn't I resp ecting that? As people, we often t ry t o get ot her people to w alk ar ound out little rubb er m ats. W e jerk the l eash. We b ark commands. We te ll ours elves that it is for their ow n good. When w e live in th e rainb ow, we need to be convinced o f how "right" w e are. Wh en we discu ss r eligion or politics, we're no t w anting to be enlightened by someone else's point of view , we're w an ting to convince o thers t hat w e're right. When we w alk away from a discussion in which w e've made our point, we thin k " My, that was a good talk." When w e leave a discuss ion wh ere we feel tha t oth ers disgree d with us, w e hav e this hur ting, Nobody -list ens- to-m e kind of feeling.
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Not Being Right The world continues to ope rate on a level that is bey ond right and w rong. The sun shin es, the flower s bloom, str eams flowing into other str eams. Animals liv e and die. The ear th goes t hrough its cycles of bir th and death. Stor m clouds gather, expe nd th emselves, and t he sun comes back out. None of this has anyt hing to do with w ho's right and wh o's wrong. As people, as rainbows, we ar e invest ed in our ar guments. We take sides (Us-a nd-Them) and f ind evidence to support our positions. When you g et in touch wit h y our light, you realize that there is nothing to ta ke sides about. All the disagreeme nts tha t ha ppen on th e sur face begin to see m a litt le silly. You find yourself le ss willing to take sides, less eager to st ate your ca se on any given mat ter. It's not as importa nt t o be right.
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And it's not a b ehind-y our- eyes "Oh th ese people don't r eally know w hat they'r e talking about" kind of feeling. More of an accepting "What ever they believe is r ight for t hem" und erstan ding. You don't h ave to point fingers at people anym ore. Or lab el them wrong. Or spend co untless hour s and energie s tr yin g to convin ce them of their err or. You star t to unders tand t hat, on th e surface , you'l l only agree with peo ple to the poi nt they mir ror your dec isi ons. A friend feels s tr ongly ab out ecological iss ues. "You should be recycling," he says . "I know," you say . "And how come you st ill use XYZ pr oducts ? Don't you know they pollute the envir onment?" "I forgot," you mumble. "And what 's t his spr ay can of ve get able oil d oing in y our cab inet? Don't y ou care about our envir onment?" You put your h ands on y our hips. "Y ou're r eally t urning into a fanat ic about this," you say.
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And so a heated de ba te ensues. He didn't m irr or y our choices, obviously . And you, feeling th reatened (and may be a litt le guilty ), could not mirror his. Who is going to walk whom ar ound the rubber m at? What a w ast e of a good evening! W hy be right and lose the moments we have now in disagre ement? Underneath all our r ainbow s, ther e is no cause to fight fo r. There ar e no ba tt le flags to w ave. In spirit , we ar e love pouring th rough. Love that is not t hreatened by differin g opinions. Love that does not w aver because an individual, a group, or a society does not mir ror our r ainbow s.
Respecting Ra inbows As w e come to a sense o f true love wit h ours elves, w e open up to that possibility in others. When you realize
that you are more than y our
ra inb ow r epresents, you find an unconditional acce pta nce waitin g for you. Other people are more than they a ppear .
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They ar e not t heir s kin color, eye color, or sexual pr eference. They are not the opinio ns t hey offer out. They are not the cause s t hey represent. We know them on a deeper level, in Light. Only our outsides ar e different. When w e meet w ith people one-on- one this sense of unders tanding usually forces itself into our consciousness, whether w e are living f ully in the ra inbow or ar e awa re of the light. Consider tw o people on differing sides of a v ery emotional iss ue. Each person b elongs t o a group that has organiz ed against t he other. Each person w ill heatedly def end her posit ion. Each person is convinced that t he other is to tally w rong. There may be demonstr ations and mar ches. There may b e sit- ins. There may be flag-w aving and name-calling and o ther s howings of force a nd violence. But one day t he firs t pers on goes for a walk in the woods. Unknown to her, the other person is doing the same thin g. The birds
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sing. The br eeze puffs at t he buddin g leaves. The people meet, independent of their causes, and, smiling, say "Hello." We are not our opinio ns. Simply because o ur r ainbow s don't match doesn't mean we don't mat ch. We can allow other peopl e to have their opinions. We're le arning that voicing our opinio n only star ts a n action to which th ere will inevitab ly b e a reaction. It's b asic cause- and- effect. You say something, I say something. You believe in one cause, I believe in something else. That doe sn't m ean w e can't discuss things or that we have nothing lef t t o talk ab out. Talking, perhaps unfort unat ely, is one of the few methods w e have for b ridging the perceived gap from ra inbow to rainb ow. It's a proven f act t hat w e communic ate w ith each othe r without opening our mouths , but , from year s of tr aining, mouths pop open almost un bidden. Words come out. We want to be under st ood. We want to und erstand othe rs . Just r ealize that t here is more beyond th e talking. Words ar e only symb ols tha t point t o a mean somewh ere deeper. Emotion th at gets wra pped around words -- like when I raise my voice in a sh ow of force to
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make you underst and me-- is simply the fear the ego has of being misunderstood. See it for w hat it is . And feel the light shinin g inside. The light tha t does not ha ve to just ify itself, that does not hav e to explain any thing, that h as no opinion o n th e sur face issues of li fe. Then w e can throw aw ay our mats.
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Chapter Ten Seeing Beaut y in Rainbows What is it a bout dande lions th at is so annoying? The pass age of winter in to spr ing in Indiana is n ot a sm ooth process. One glorious day and th e sun is shin ing hotly in a br ight blue sky. You wander outside in your tr aditio nal April garb -- sw eatpant s and a sw eatshirt -- and are amazed to find that it's shor ts w eather. Yo ur heart r aces as y ou rush upsta irs t o find those summer clo thes that have been packed aw ay for mont hs. The day is filled with t hat exuber ant feeling of an early spr ing, of the promise of retur ning summ er. Get out the ba seball b at. Find the frisb ee. And the ne xt day, it s nows . Not a litt le snow, either, but a b ig, stick ing, wet -sn owflake snow. April is an e ntire month of S prin g-t ease. And the firs t mornin g you see that gleamin g yellow head of a dandelion in your y ard, you ar e extr emely h appy to see it. Long before
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the grass gets gree n or t he tree s hint that they m ight eventually b ud, a dandelion gat hers it s nerv e and st icks it big bold head up i nto the fickle spring breeze. Dandelions a re a sign tha t spr ing really w ill come. Eventua lly. But th e closer spr ing comes, the more signs ther e are. One morn ing I aw oke to a pink sunrise and a y ellow ca rpet completely surr ounding the hou se. It was b reatht aking. But soon th ose yellow sundials gr ew long, thin necks and puff y white heads. The wh ite st uff made me snee ze. The kids t racked dandelion guts all t hrough t he house. They weren't b eautiful any more. They w ere an eyesore . An ir ri tat ion. Now t he dandelions w ere no longer a sign of a soon -t o-b erealize d spring but a germ that polluted the continui ty of the law n. What is it in us t hat m akes us j udge things and wa nt t o weed thin gs out? Who w as t he firs t person t o call the dande lion a w eed and decide it needed to b e dug up, w hile w ild violets should be a llowed to stand?
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Beauty and Newness Appar ently, time has something to do with w hat w e view as beautiful. The firs t t ime you see something, if it r epresents s omething you really w ant, y ou're lik ely t o think it's b eautiful. But after a while, after seeing tha t something for a cert ain length of tim e, you become desensit ized to it. I hav e a friend w ho moved to Kauai ma ny y ears a go. She wa s able to purchase a small house right on the oce an, su rr ounded by palm tr ees an d exotic tr opical plants . It had been her dream for all of her adult life to get ba ck to Haw aii (she'd lived there as a small ch ild). Of cours e, she w as overcome by t he beau ty . She spent almost every free waking moment on th e beach- -for a w hile. Two years later, she wa lked by the ocean on th e weekends and sometimes picke d up tr ash t hat touris ts would leave there. F ive years later, she visited the beach -- her b each, right in front of he r house-- only once a y ear , when she had her annua l Fourth of July par ty . Even in par adise, she'd become de sensit ized. Think ab out someone you love. When you w ere firs t gettin g to know her, do you
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rememb er th inking she was b eautiful? And now, after forging a relationship with the pers on, after a ll the u ps and downs and little insights you've gained into each other, your perspectiv e chan ges. You see beyond the physical now, and b eauty , in its outw ard sense, may not occur t o you as it once did. Once we get to know someone, or someth ing, or some place, intimat ely, that infatuat ion with b eauty gives w ay t o something deeper. You can apply this "beautif ul newness" conce pt t o any thing or any one. Your new car ast ounds you, at first . It's so red, so perfect, so fast . All the gadgets inside excite you. Every time y ou w alk across the par king lot and see i t w ait ing, you tell yours elf what a good decision you made. But eventually t he car gets olde r. You get used to driv ing it every day . The newness w ear s off and you f ind yoursel f stuck with t he day -in day out r outines of dod ging downtown t raffic, havin g the oil check ed, filling the tank, and all the o ther ho -hum a spects of car ownersh ip.
Seeing Real Beauty Why is it that we are so awar e of something 's beau ty when w e first see it? Wh y does t hat b eauty -- or our aw ar eness of it- -fade?
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The process of becoming desensit ized can only happen w hen w e carr y b its of the p ast around wit h us. When e ach moment beco mes new, when we're not car ry ing those stones of guilt or j udgement w ith us any more, every thin g around us becomes beautiful . We find ours elves living in a st ate of continual w onder. Why is the rainb ow so touching ? No matter how much ou r adult minds tr y t o explain it aw ay, it s till see ms like some so rt of magical aura encircling o ur lives. We can see the beauty in the ra inbow each time it appears , perhaps because it happens so r arely. If you aw oke every morning and saw a rainb ow outside your w indow, would it cease to be beautiful? No, but it w ouldn't be such a b ig deal, either. We can find tr ue, indescrib ably beauty a round u s every moment of our lives. Our senses w ould be overw helmed, of cours e, but the potential is there. When every moment is n ew, we can mar vel at the compl exity of our w orld and th e divers ity of creat ion. We no longer see a pid geon and call it a flyin g rodent (quote from a friend, not my own) because w e don't
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feel compelled to judge it or fit it int o some kind of Good or Bad category . Simply that it exists, that it is dif ferent from all other b irds, is miracle enough. We look at people in our lives a nd ar e aw estr uck b y how unique and beautif ul and mar velous th ey ar e. The ra nge of chara cteristics in the human anim al, in human r elationships, is st aggerin g. His sense of humor is so different from yours, but you tw o understan d each other. Isn't that a mir acle? Her skin is many shades li ghter t han y ours, but you tw o connect in a pla ce much deeper tha n skin. Amaz ing. The only t hing w e need to do to reach th is perspectiv e of beauty is to allo w every thing to be ne w to us in this m oment. Wh en y ou walk in and see your kid s play ing Nintendo, don't look at them as t he parent you've bec ome over t he last t en y ear s; look at them t hrough a visitor's eyes, as t hough you're seeing them fo r t he firs t t ime. Notice their hair , their eye s. The way they smile o r frow n. The way they t alk to each other and t o you. The gest ures t hey ma ke. Any par ent has the continual pul l to loo k at t heir children as extensions of themselves, thin gs th ey can m old and shape, pe ople that
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directly reflect w hat they've b een taught. T his t urns my son's b eligerent remar k to his sist er "Hurr y up, Butt head!" as something I 've failed to teach him ab out compassion and tole ran ce. By witnessing that a s a par ent, I immediately take it in to m yself and feel th e need to cha nge or corr ect it. By w itnessing that as a v isitor, I can see the behavior as something he's doing, not s omething I've done, and I feel the st range wonderfulness of the rainb ow s hining ar ound me. That doesn't mean I won't tr y t o guide that energy into a mor e acceptab le form of communication, but it does mean t hat I will no lo nger take hi s ourb urst s personally . I know t hat h is expression do esn't ma ke me- - the li ght-- anyt hing. It's simply par t of his le arn ing proc ess that needs a litt le more love. That is what gett ing over t he rainb ow can do for y ou. In realizing that y ou're not t he sum of your lab els, the pl ayer of a par t, you get in t ouch wit h th e light at y our essence . You can see others a round you not as t hings that m irr or you but as par t of a w onderful, sw irling, beau tiful r ainbow of humanity . You can leave b ehind your pas t
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judg ements- -of both yourself and others -- and live truly in this m oment, freeing you t o th e experience o f love in th e here and n ow.
From the Inside Out It ma y not s ound practical. Or possible. Or sane. But w e can live in peace. A ll of us, toge ther. W ith our unending mix of ideas a nd causes and passions a nd commitm ents. Wit h our differing lifestyles, r eligious b eliefs, t ax br ackets, and educations. Being different isn't ba d. Because we'r e not different, not w ay down deep, where it matt ers. Al l the r ainbow labels and expe riences an d biographies y ou creat e serve only t o help you id entify y ourself to the outside wor ld. They give you purpose. The y prov ide meaning. They fill time. But underneath it a ll, we're Light. Simply b ecause our minds disagree d oesn't make us any different in our center . Anyw here you go you'll me et people. Wheth er y ou go up to them and speak or simply glance at t hem and look aw ay, you'r e meeting them.
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Each of those peopl e you see is br eathing, jus t like you. They ar e thin king, just like you. They hav e lives and biograph ies. They car ry stones of guilt w ith t hem. They have little f ear s t hat inhibit t hem on a daily basis. Those people are you. And me. They ar e just us in dif ferent rainb ow cloaks. Nothing le ss than our r eal ident ical tw in housed in dif ferent packaging. But w e can't make the m see that, can w e? We can't very well walk up to another person w ho is hurt ing us or j udging us because of what w e wear or how w e look. We can't fo rce that person w ho won't give us a j ob b ecause of the color of our skin t o see an "enlightened" view point. We can o nly heal ourselves. Even w hen w e're the victims of repression and discrimination, even w hen we're the w itnesses-- or w orse, recipients -- of violence bec ause of the world's separat ion w ith its s pirit, w e can find healing. We can h ave peace. We don't hav e to vie w the w orld as frighte ning.
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Or unfair. Or hopeless. Because the wor ld exist s w ith in us. Our families ar e a micr ocosm of the w orld. We, in spirit , are the same spi rit that flows t hrough every person on this ear th. As w e star t to heal, a tiny s peck of consciousness become s fr ee. Our healing pass es to our families, to our employer s, to our church es, to our s chools. Healing spreads, like the sickne ss tha t preceded it, into ou r businesse s an d into our go vernment. But healing can only b e done in the spirit . And our agencies- -governm ental, social, relig ious, educational -can pass law s, can adopt new guidelines a nd tr y to r educe the injustices within t heir limited scop e, but h ealing begins w ith people. With us, no t our instit utions. We can't wait for an enlightened elected official t o come into office and m ake every thin g right. We allow things to r ighten, within ours elves. When we find who and w hat w e really ar e (and aren't), balance comes natura lly.
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Our govern ment w on't v alue people until we value people. And we won't v alue people until w e realize that t hey ar e more than the colors they represent. Oh, w e'll put up w ith people and t heir differences, and w e'll call ourselves ope n-m inded. But really valuing people, lovin g them b eyond their w ords, seeing them beyond th eir surfaces, living in aw e-str uck wonder at t he indescrib able rainb ows w e see, is more than being open-minded. It's open- spirited. The differences w e see on the surface do n't threat en us. We don't need to invest our selve s in b att les of whose right and w hose wr ong. We can b e at peace and love the incredible number of hue s w e see cast acr oss our skies each and every moment of every day. Even in th e midst of darkness, w e can see the Light shinin g underneath. The wor ld is not go ing to hell in a ha ndba sket. The world is healing , slow ly. And the more t roub le we see manife sting itself o n a sur face level, the more time w e'll spend looking at our selves in the mir ror.
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And sooner or lat er, w e're going to see that glimmer of light beyond the rainb ow.
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Chapter Eleven Raising Rainbow-F ree Children My son ma de his firs t ethn ic distinct ion at a ge three. He stood before me, looking up, sma ll an d reddened from his exposur e to a ra ther unseasonably harsh October wind, sniffled, and said: "Mommy , I let the chocolate b oy r ide my b ike." Hmmm. How to ha ndle tha t? I smiled, of cours e. And alt hough I knew at s ome point I would prob ab ly need to corr ect his ter minology, I nodded and said "That 's okay , honey." When you're three , you don't th ink of thing s as unimpo rt ant as nam es wh en you've found someone new t o play w ith. True to his age , my son didn't t hink to ask his f riend wha t h is name w as. They play ed in the san dbox together. They pushed the Big Foot
ctr ucks around in the
dirt. The y picked up rocks from th e drivew ay and thr ew them as far as their lit tle arm s w ould allow . Shar ing. Fun. What mor e do you need from a relationship than that ?
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Thr ee-y ear- olds ha ve freedoms tha t y ou and I do not. They don't have the wor ld-view unde rs tanding to k now w hat a put -down is. The y don't hav e the comma nd of the language tha t y ou and I hav e, so they don't fill their t ime wit h meaningle ss conv ersa tion. They j oin forces in an imaginative w orld of unlimi ted adve ntur e; they b ecome par tners in fanta sy. They can't analyz e and scrutinize and j udge the actions of others like we can. T hey don't car ry with t hem past expe rience that tells them to sta y aw ay from t his group or th at group. They only know how they feel in the moment. To a th ree-y ear- old, life is right n ow. Consider, from a t hree-year -old's perspective, how ridiculous our labeling syst em sounds: black, white, yellow, red. Gay an d str aight. Christ ian, New Ager, Jewish, Hindu, Taoist...the list goes on an d on. Black people ar e not b lack. Whit e people are not w hite. Gay people seem as h appy as every one else. And w hat else could "st ra ight" mean exce pt someone who wa lks wit h good postur e?
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Before Labels We can acce pt th at children are born w ithout labels. Labels are creat ed by the mind, the ego, as a means of identifyin g us and others w e come in contact with. Lab els don't st ar t t o stick until w e reach th e age where w e ar e aw are of ourselves thin king. Thoughts, as adults, come to us in th e form of w ords, a kind o f internal t alking to ours elves. As you read this b ook, your eyes scan over t he wor ds and some thing very much like a voice -- your ow n v oice--is reading them t o you in your head. We can capt ure the thought as t hough it is b eing spoken to us. We can hear ourselves th inking. At t hree, my son did n't realize what thinking was. Not like you and I. He didn't a naly ze things. He didn't h ear t hat sma ll intern al thin king voice in his h ead. When he saw freshly b aked chocolate chip cookies sit ting unguarded o n the counter, th ere wa s no voice in his h ead to say "Wait a minute, ho ld on. Mom w ouldn't w ant you to sneak those without asking." He saw , he wan ted, he took. Only thr ough progra mming do we teach our childre n t o hear that separate, inne r voice that cautions them to g o against t heir inner natur e.
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As an adult, have you e ver t ried to return t o the wor ld of pretend? It prob ab ly didn't h appen. As a kid, I spent hour s an d hours pretending in a drain age ditch close to o ur a par tment. We lived i n a world surrounde d by concrete and asphalt, so tre es and gras s and w ater were things t o be cherished. M y friend and I worked diligently to clean up the area, digging up discar ded Coke cans, pulling up w ads of paper that got s tuck in t he rocks an d the tr ickling str eam carr ied them ou t of the apar tm ent complex. We called it our Secret Cove . I rememb er th at place with a certa in aw e-lace d love and wonde r. No matter how many tr uly b eautiful nat ure- filled places I visit as a n adult, I don't th ink the feeling can mat ch th e one I felt sit ting on the ban k of that d itch, w atching the w ater rippling alo ng. My son has close to a millio n toy cars of var ying shapes and sizes. (Okay, I'm exag gera tin g. But it seems like a m illion w hen I'm th e one picking th em up off the livin g room floo r.) W hen he gets those things out and st arts pla ying, he goes aw ay, menta lly. He becomes the car he's pushing around.
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"Beep beep! Look out! The monst er t ruck is going to sq uash you!" the monster r olls over my little car, smashing it into the carpet. "Call the ambulan ce! Anybody in t here?" His v oice changes to b ecome the amb ulance. "Let's get him t o the hospital!" The voice goes b ack again t o the mons ter tr uck. "Look out, you litt le car s, I'm coming ba ck!" And w hat do I do? I play a long. I use different voices. My ca rs go to the groce ry store, to the gas sta tion. My red car ge ts washed in the pretend car wash . I use the Lincoln Lo gs and t he Legos t o build garages and oil-cha nge places. But y ou know w hat? I'm aware that I'm pretending. Chris topher zooms ar ound, unconscious o f the fact tha t he's a
boy, not a car . He has n o idea, in th is moment, tha t he's par ticipat ing in a game know n as make-b elieve.
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And that is w hat I think happe ns t o us when w e begin to listen to our thin king and st ar t gather ing labels. I think we cover ours elves up so that w e can't be the experience any mor e. "I'm an a dult," I think. "Wh at if Doug sees me play ing th is? He's going to make fun of me." Or, even w orse: "Mayb e I should use this t ime wit h Christ opher to teach him something." And outw ar dly I say "Chr istophe r, w hat colo r is that car? How man y b lue car s do you see ?"
Wrong. I should be le ar ning from him. I need to t ake my Pa rent lab el off for a moment a nd see how seamless he become s w ith t he experience . There's no litt le voice inside him sa yin g "I look silly" or "I should b e watching cartoons right now." T here is no I. There are no lab els. He's living in this m oment, true to the e xperience , not car ry ing around judg ment or lab els or fears or restr ictions. He is Light . He's w hat I w ant to be w hen I grow up.
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When w e can allow ours elves to open to the pe ople we were before lab els, we thr ow open a door for endle ss possib ilities. Honest y. Trut hfulness. Love. It's this sa me cloaking process t hat keeps you and I from t ruly loving and tr usting e ach other. W e hear ours elves think. We carr y the labels of judgment pas sed down, perhaps, by our parents a nd their par ents before them. We can't meet each other lik e tw o thr ee-y ear olds looking for s omeone to play with. Our lab els w on't let us . There's too much to think about, too much to fear. Our labels entw ine themsel ves into this b ig rainbow cloak that s epara tes us, you and me and every one else w e'd like to play with. But w e know it's under ther e. We did it once. We were ab le to get by- -very happily, than k you-- without the p rotective se lf-identity labels we now use on a daily bas is. We w ere able to bec ome fully j oined with our experience, whether w e were playing c ar s or Bar bies or any thing else. When we can beco me that car , you and I will truly mee t at the point beneath o ur ra inbow s. Our skins, sexe s, experiences, and opinions w on't m atter.
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In th at moment, they w on't eve n exist.
Preserving the Light So when w e look at par enting f rom th is pers pective -- that our children ar e closer t o that something w e need to find for ours elves -par enting becomes le ss a job of teaching th an it does one of protecting. They a re bor n w ith an unders tanding o f spirit. T hey already know how insignific ant thin gs like skin color, hair color, and other outw ard differences ar e. Those thing s ar e only as importan t as w e make t hem. Whether we openly discuss t he superiority or inferiority of ethnic groups, our children w ill absorb our prejudice s. Whether w e point t o people on t he st reet an d make fun of them or keep our comments to ourselves, our children w ill know . When we get ov er our own rainb ows, our child ren w ill lear n t o do the same. It's a na tura l process. But is it possib le to r aise a child wh o goes th rough life with no labels?
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Probably not. Labels aren't b ad in themsel ves, and labe l-adoptio n is par t of the normal s elf-identity cycle. As w e grow , it help s us adapt t o our changing world if we know w ho we ar e and where we fi t. On a purely sur face level, knowing tha t w e're not alone is comfort ing even in the w orst of times. However, it is possible to te ach our children that t here is more beyond the col ors w e see with our eyes. The y ca n know, from t he time they b ecome cars a nd Barb ies and kings and qu een, that they ca n know thems elves and other s on a deeper level, a level that needs no j udgment and calls no names. We can ce lebr ate our ethnic heritage s w hile still ho noring the fact t hat we are celebr ating the ra inbow , while the Li ght gleams softly underneath. Our kids can grow up w ith a love and w onder dir ected at all colors of the ra inb ow, not choosing o ne and judging the rest , b ut accepting them all as similar yet different expressions of the same Lig ht. And when our kid s go thr ough tha t tim e of cris is -lab eling, as they a pproach t heir t eens, w e can help them f ind a sense of peace in th e
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knowledge that they a re more tha n t he people they see in the mirr or. Their hair just isn't t hat import ant. Being in the "i n" crowd isn't t he end all. Going to t he best college doesn't guaran tee any one success. And success do esn't guara ntee happiness. Most of all, we can show our kids, by the w ay w e live, that happiness is r ight now -- not a few second ago, not b ack in the good old days, and not in t he future; as s oon as we get t hat new car , new house, etc. Right now . They see us mov e unhindered from one mome nt to t he next, loving each other, und erst anding each other , car ryin g no st ones and fear ing no horiz ons. And w e'll be r aising a gene ration of centered, spir itual childr en. And in each moment, th e world w ill heal a li tt le more. God, I'd like to see that.
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Chapter Twelve Celebrating Light
Depending on the make-up of your par ticular family, you ma y hav e some experience with family reunions. Unle ss it 's a h oliday or someone's b irt hday , family r eunions usually fall on the hott est, most humid day of the year . The day all t he flies ar e revved up wit h extraordinary enthusiasm, landing on the exposed potato salad, perching on the ha ndle of the spat ula Uncle Herb uses to flip the bur gers . And there 's alw ays that lime jel lo with the pine apple chunks that Aunt E dna mak es-- part icularly at tr active to gnats. When you're young , family reunions a re th e wors t. You sit around and list en to the old people talk ab out the w ay things used to be. Your older cousins pick on you. Yo u hav e to eat thin gs you don't like . You listen to r elatives you hav en't seen in y ears t ell you how much
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you've grown. They ask prying questions about boyfriends and dating and bra s ize. But, underneath it all, there's something tha t's kind of comforting. These are your people. Your great a unt w ith t he moustache. Uncle Charlie who drinks too much and then alway s w ants to play softb all. Your cousin Raym ond who's t ra ining for t he seminar y. Your cousin Erica who smokes pot b ehind the picnic shelter h ouse. As st ra nge as t hey look on the inside , there's something tha t connects y ou to them on t he outside. Something ab out genes or b lood, they t ell you. Blood is thicke r t han w ater, or so the sayin g goes. But w e've come to und erstan d that the something isn't blood. Or w ater. Or genes. It's light. And you r aunts moustache? Part of the ra inbow . That wandering eye of U ncle Eddie? His ow n var iation of ra inb ow light. As is the bellowin g claim of Uncle Char lie tha t A.J. Foyt is the greatest r acer of
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all time. And his b rot her's s houting voice claiming Al Unser in numb er one. And all th e eye- rolling and head-s haking of the w omen sitt ing in the sha de of the shelter house. What y ou feel is th e light. What y ou see is the rainbo w.
Celebrating Connecti on As y ou get older, you come to appr eciate these connections mor e. The holidays b ring an oppo rt unity -- yes, an oblig ation, but also an opport unity -- to see those people with w hom you claim a g enetic, ethnic bond . Our different heritage s br ing us dif ferent tr aditio ns that we wr ap around ou r families, bonding us furt her. These tr aditio ns -- whether it is Thanksgiving dinner at G ran dma's or H annukah at t he in-law s in Texas -- grow w ith us an d help preserve our unde rs tanding of our family connectedness. Where is that tr aditio n for our bigger family, the hu man race? What kind of family r eunion is ava ilable to us?
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We are so invested in our diff erences t hat we seem to be lacking any kind of outw ard cele br ation in w hich w e can co me together a s a whole. We can't b ase our celebr ation on a similar ity in religious beliefs, certa inly. Or on sexual persuas ion. Or on any of our exterior characteristics. What , then? What do we all do, all experience, all shar e? If we can't claim t o be bonde d by genetics or ethn ic herit age, how ca n w e outw ar dly celebr ate our connectedness?
Celebrating Sameness There are, of course, some very b asic t hings w e do eac h and every day of our lives. T hese things ar e the ba sic mar k of a huma n being, and w ithout them, we co uldn't pr ove to anyone that we were actually living. We br eathe. We slee p. We aw aken. We eat. (So me of us not as often as we should.) We shar e. We love.
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Most of these ar e basic functions of the human an imal. There is a light behind o ur eyes-- whether that light flashes in ange r or gleams in love. It's th ere. We shar e it. Cert ain poig nant times in our lives can be felt, tr uly, by others. The empathy we feel w hen someone describ es a spirit ual experience-like the birt h of a chil d-- or a heartb reaking reality -- like a debilitat ing illness-- is an expr ession of the light. We've all go t it . We're more alike than w e are different . Inside, where it ma tt ers , we're the s ame. But nothing e xists in our society to celebr ate tha t s ameness. W e live in a tim e when our governm ent, our b usinesses, and ou r m edia is convinced the cup i s ha lf empt y. W e overlook the o verw helming similarities of o ur s pirits and choo se instead to concentr ate on the r ange of fleeting outw ar d chara cteris tics t hat make us appear dif ferent . When you w ake up in the morning, make that firs t opening of your eyes a cele br ation. Feel that people all over th e wor ld will b e having tha t same exp erience at some point during thei r day. Wh en you speak to a str anger on the str eet, recognize that other people everyw here
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are doing the same th ing. When your kids get your goat and y ou feel your self huffing in frustr ation, know t hat you ar e linked to every par ent everywhere. You are no t j ust y ou. You are not alone. When you're stuck in tr affic, remember tha t it 's you in each of those car s. And in me. And in your par ents. And your children. That light gleaming, right dow n th ere in the center of things, waitin g to be asked out. And when you spe ak harsh ly to another person, k now t hat you are speaking to yours elf. And if your hand ever r aises in an ger, unders tand th at t he anger is in you toward you. When that ra inb ow cloak falls aw ay, you find a filling sense of peace that answ ers all the q uestions y ou've ever ha d. It w ipes aw ay frust rat ions-- with yourself and with others -- that ha ve been forever present. The l ove that finds it s w ay out of you is st aggering and freeing. Understan d that t here may be times when the w orld is thr eatening, and your r elationship isn't working, and your kids are
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driving you crazy . There will be days you look in the mirr or and see nothing but frizzy ha ir and t ired eyes and a w orn -out ex pression. You may doubt t hat t here is such a thing as Li ght. That's ok ay . Because you'll be shar ing those sam e human doubt s, frust rat ions, and tr ials w ith eve ry pers on who eve r lived. That's pr etty good company. And the fact is tha t no matt er how screw ed up we think the world is, no matt er how invested we ar e in our r ainbow s, no mat ter how m uch our society , our govern ment, and o ur selves de ny t he trut h beyond the rainbow , the Li ght shines on.
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Rainbow
Endings
There's alw ays a piece of me that feels incomple te until I say goodby e at t he end of a b ook. Writ ing for me is a mys tical proce s s-words and image s appear in my br ain and my fingers ty pe in a frenzy until th e energy is r eleased, as a ccurat ely as possib le, into sentences and paragra phs and chapte rs t hat appear almost magicall y on my computer. B ut t he best t hing about w riting is t hat I feel like I'm j ust sitt ing on my front porch, w atching the moc kingbir d, talking to you. Yes, you- -r ight now , right ther e, reading. You who are the mixtur e of ra inb ow a nd light, just like me. Our connection f eels ver y r eal to me. The only reason w e have f or gett ing over th e rainbow is the healing availab le on th e other side. We step out of the game of Us -a ndThem. We shar e the love at our essence from a point t hat defies mer e sur face qualities. But gett ing over t he rainb ow, we open ourselves to unlimited potential for giving an d recieving lo ve. And wh en we ourselves begin to he al, the wor ld around us star ts its ow n healing process.
K. Murray
141
Rainbow
And one day, w hen you and I pass each other on t he str eet, w e'll look beyond our s kin color and eye co lor and hair color. W e w on't j udge each other b y our sexual pref erences or economic backgrounds. We'll look in each other 's eyes, and sm ile.
K. Murray
142
Rainbow
