Hidden in the center of each human heart dwells a great spiritual secret. Left undiscovered, as it often remains for most of the masses, its presence causes the soul that harbors it to spend its days on earth seeking it knows not what, finding what is never enough, and then starting out all over again. But once this secret tells itself, the truth it reveals opens the heart that is its home, and leads the weary seeker to a whole new and higher relationship with life.

What is this great spiritual secret that we are created with, and that we must come to know if we are ever to end our wanderings and realize that peaceful strength we long for? The relationship our heart longs for already exists. Yes, it is true; in spite of our unending sense that something is missing from our lives, the strange thing is that most of us already have had some experience with the truth of this great secret. We have felt its peaceful presence like a consoling whisper whenever we look up and witness an open-ended starry night or whenever good fortune lets us catch sunlight dancing on shaded leaves. And who hasn't felt the comfort that comes in taking silent notice of a mother loving away the fears of her small child?

In moments such as these we are touched - however briefly - by a life that somehow seems greater, more whole than our own. And in these precious, passing moments we are reminded there is something eternal, something ever green and good, as near to us as our own sensing of it. In this fulfilling instant, we are transported beyond ourselves and, all too briefly, find our aching heart and restless mind quieted. There is nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one who needs more than what this moment reveals. But because we don' t yet understand the actual nature of this sublime moment -- how it appears and from where it goes -- it becomes the seed of our discontent. We then spend our days searching for ways either to relocate or otherwise re-create the heaven from which we feel we were unjustly cast. And as we all know too well, nothing we can do is enough; nowhere we know to turn leads us back to that peaceable kingdom. What we don't know is why this is so. Here is the reason: In our unconscious certainty of what we should be looking for, it hasn't yet dawned on us that we don't know where to look!

In a certain sense, living as we do in our state of spiritual sleep, we are not unlike a titled nobleman with extensive properties who - having fallen from his horse and striking his head - stumbles into a huntsman's hut located on a distant part of his own property. Having now forgotten his real identity, he settles in and takes to believing that he must be the huntsman, and therefore he just assumes that small, gated yard in front of his hut must comprise the extent and range of his holdings. And just as we might assume this nobleman would feel a sense of limitation created by his accidental circumstances, so do we feel the constraint of our own captive consciousness. The sole purpose of truth teachings is to reveal and release us from these self-imposed restrictions. Follow the next few special insights to freedom:

In those more contented times when, for the moment, we are at rest with who we are because our gaze has fallen upon a secret corner of some world bright and brimming, we have not peeked into a place residing outside us. Not at all. The reason we see that timelessness in the night sky, or feel that fleeting brush with the gentle touch of goodness, is because we have just looked into and touched a small corner of the unknown universe of our Self. This revelation can be summarized by saying that we are what we see, and that our brief bliss in these magical moments is the reward of coming into relationship with Real Life. St. Francis, the illuminative wise man and Christian mystic, intones the truth of this same important self-discovery:

I never think upon eternity without receiving great comfort. For I say to myself: how could my soul grasp the idea of everlastingness, if the two were not related in some way?

What this saint tells us is that right within us, as an unseen aspect of our True Nature, resides the entire range of relationships that the universe has to offer. Think of it! But through the eyes of our present understanding, each time conditions grant us this fleeting sense of a brighter, broader order of existence, we attribute these expansive feelings to our participation in an event greater than ourselves. This perception is one supported by the sense-supplied "fact" that this moment is the effect of an event taking place "outside" of ourselves.

But our actual experience in these moments is not outside of us. The better explanation of these brief illuminations is that we, ourselves, have been momentarily transported outside the limited range of an unconscious set of internal relationships. The best way to explain this new idea is to paint a picture we can all recognize.

We all know that when we really see a breathtaking sunset, we feel it; we take part in its vibrant colors. But we couldn't possibly share in this beauty before us if the essence of this painted sky above us wasn't within us. In other words, the depth of this beauty -- and the inner delight it elicits -- are actually aspects of our own consciousness. If we can begin to see the truth of this discovery, then we are prepared for our next step in how to realize Real Life through relationships.

The world of people and events we see spinning "around" us is, in reality, a kind of special mirror. This interesting idea helps shed light on why all of the great and timeless world philosophies have called the world an illusion. What is the purpose of this mirroring world? It is to show us . . . us! Which brings us to another key point of this study.

As we realize the truth of ourselves, that who we really are (including all that we can come to know about ourselves) already exists in this one great relationship from which we are never apart, so do we realize Real Life. Let' s examine this important finding using our personal experience to prove its validity.

More than simply identifying, we've all seen that it's possible to suddenly "know" what a child feels opening up a gift, and how in these moments our pleasure is as good as his own. Most of us have been surprised to find ourselves "knowing" (beyond mere anthropomorphism) what's going on in the mind of our dog or cat, and what a kind of delight there is in sharing these unique sensations. The point is that we can't take something into ourselves that doesn't already have a counterpart in our consciousness, else how would we recognize this quality, let alone savor it?

We are now very near being able to see, for the first time, the real stumbling block before us in our search for happiness and contentment. Allow all that we have discovered to bring its light to bear on these next few ideas. Our sense of self-limitation, of feeling ourselves incomplete, is not a result of our relationships with the world revolving around us. The real problem is that we have been living from an unconscious part of ourselves incapable of relating to anything outside the limited range of its own conditioned content. The following explanation should not only serve to bring this last inclusive insight to life, but reveal, by its light, how we can begin using all of our relationships to realize Real Life.

In days long past, seekers of Truth spoke of a mysterious "lost chord." Perhaps you are familiar with this timeless spiritual idea? Roughly speaking, the search for this lost chord centered on an idea not too dissimilar from the one that drove seekers to try to find the legendary philosopher's stone. If someone could discover, group, and then intone certain musical notes together -- at the right time in the right setting -- the sound of this celestial chord created by certain planetary tones would elevate that person's consciousness.

Just as it was then, and is today (with all forms of scripture), instead of realizing that this idea represented an internal process, people made this spiritual principle a literal, physical quest. But the real meaning (which can't be stated, only realized) in this idea of a lost chord might be spoken thus: Each of us is created as a special kind of instrument whose purpose is three-fold -- to "sing" the notes of the celestial universe, to act as a sound board for other songs and, in this resonance, in this relationship with the reality of life, to know Real Life.

Imagine for a moment that a young child, whom we will name Christine, is given a harp-like instrument on her birthday. Further, that in her first few days of playing with it, maybe due to her reach or hand size, she is able to stroke and sound out only five of the harp's one hundred and eight strings. Now let's say that Christine grows increasingly identified with just the tones of these five strings and decides, accordingly, to play only them in their various configurations. With this image in mind, see how the following outcome would be an inevitable one for Christine, giving her an almost constant but undetected sense that something is missing from her life.

Each time Christine plays the five strings she perceives as being the harp's entire worthwhile range, she also hears -- though barely audible -- the instrument's remaining unsounded strings. Why is this true? It is a universal law that they must vibrate in sympathetic tones. Sometimes their resonance delights her. Other times, depending on the grouping of the strings she plays, their tones trouble her in their dissonance. And that's not all!

Then there are those days when Christine's friends come to visit, bringing with them their instruments. More than likely, because of the world in which they live and the ideas with which they have been inculcated, each of her friends has chosen a slightly different set of three to five strings to play. Some of the tones struck by her visiting friends naturally harmonize with the ones Christine plays and enjoys, while others strike an immediate discord. It's no wonder why each child goes back and forth between praising and blaming the music of each other's instrument for being the cause of how they feel. We could keep going with this illustration, but the point is already well made.

We are all notes. We are all the notes of the Kingdom. We have proven this by revealing how each of us is able to resonate with things we would never dream could produce either such a soothing or scary resonance in us. What should be evident in this fact is that when the "sound," or manifestation, of someone else sets us off and sends us into a fit, it is not their vibration that vexes us and makes us a "victim." What really disturbs us is the internal vibrations of a few of our own unknown strings as they sound off (within us) in a natural sympathetic response to the dominating tones of the moment.

Our recurring resistance to these undesired moments, to such people and conditions as create in us this discord we mistakenly blame on them, keeps us from learning how to utilize these relationships in order to realize their true purpose for us. For instance, say there is someone at work who tends to irritate us. Our usual approach is to avoid this person, as our errant thinking tells us that being out of sight is out of mind. The only thing is, as we have all come to experience, we cannot escape the sound of our self; so if it isn't that person we dodge at work, surely someone else will come along and strike a similar chord, "making" us hear those same sorry sounds of self again.

What is the answer? To realize deeply, personally, that we cannot outrun any one of these sounds of ourselves anymore than a piano can move out from under the strings by which it plays; and, as an integral part of this new self-understanding, that we need not, must not, resist some unpleasant note of our own, or that of someone else. These notes, whatever their tone, do not define us unless we make the mistake of identifying with their sounding. The false sense of self that each such sound produces within us is just that: a temporary self that is, itself, little more than a passing effect of the blending of these sounding notes.

To change our relationship with life, to realize its unlimited song, we must bravely learn what it means to hear all of ourselves. Here is the key to this new relationship: Our quiet awareness of any one sound of ourselves, regardless of its bright or dark tone, is the field of relationship and not its sole content. What does this mean? When we see a spring pasture, our pleasure is derived from seeing the whole of it -- all of it colors, each of its shapes. Imagine judging a field of flowers by picking out one weed.

As we learn how to listen to the sounds of life within ourselves, as we open up to life's endless relationships by becoming aware of them within ourselves without limiting their sounds simply because they don't agree with our present five-note self, then we begin to realize our Real Life. We hear at last within ourselves the lost chord that has always been our True Self.

© Guy Finley
Life Channels Contributing Author
All Rights Reserved

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