Oatmeal Simplicity

I have come to the conclusion for myself that there is a myth being told of Spiritual Slogging (maybe a word I invented). It is the story of the long arduous journey towards enlightenment taken by spiritual seekers.  I don’t want to minimize these Herculean journeys as I know all journeys have beauty and symmetry.

But do we have to “slog”?

Do we?

I’m throwing this up for consideration.  Imagine a world in which enlightenment was taught to us as math addition is taught to a first grader. Imagine Spirit shown to us with the effortlessness that playing make-believe is for a child.

Imagine if Spiritual texts were comic books with simple illustrations and bubble comments.  “Hiya Divine!” “Hiya back cha, sweetheart.”

What have we done to what should be as easy as falling off a bike for us? 

We have made it brain surgery. We have placed the goal on the highest mountain in the world. We have embodied success in orange robes and housed them in a remote Tibetan monastery. We have put one hundred Marathons between us and the finish line and 40 years of study between us and the Degree necessary.

I feel we need to relook at this. What if this tale of spiritual slogging is false?  What If it’s a lie to keep us immobile and stuck?

What if we could open our heart as easily as a flower blooms in spring? What if we could feel the presence of God as easily as we feel the wind or the sun when we step outside. What if spiritual truths were so very simple that five year old’s teach us?

I think it’s time to question what some people have come to believe about the spiritual path. I think it’s time to acknowledge that we are all in this path already, not a select few. It’s time to separate God from the concept of eliteness. It’s time to come to know our own awesome divine nature like we know our oatmeal that we eat for breakfast.

Folks - I don’t think it needs to be this hard.

Next time the words come to my mind “this is hard” or “why is it so complex?” - let me step back and look again from the point of view of my five-year-old self. And let me re-explain it to myself … I bet I can.